My Exhausting Affair

I have a deep rooted love affair with language. I am mesmerized by the way words can be tangled and weaved into something amazingly beautiful. I could spend hours sighing over the colorful arrangement of letters and sounds. My secret "little black book" is a list of literature I plan to read or have read; a list of previous love affairs tucked discreetly in my purse. I get carried away sometimes with the simplest quote or witty statement. It sweeps me off my feet. Shakespeare in his time probably could've had his way with me.

I'm a word connoisseur, my cruelest critic. Nothing ever seems perfect enough. Nothing is ever finished. I can't even find the perfect prose to describe this exhausting affair.

"Look at you fumbling over the right things to say... and you call yourself a poet." I mumble to myself.

Sometimes this blog forces me to create and other times it forces me to "publish" what I believe to be intolerably flawed. I read it over and over shaking my head. My heart jumps as I push the POST button. Instantly it appears on my blog. I want to take the words back again, like a call you wish you had never dialed.

Emily Dickinson was once told, "Your poems are quite as remarkable for defects as for beauties and are generally devoid of true poetical qualities."

I often speak the same words to myself.

However, the passage of time turns literal crap into beauty. When I read something I wrote five months ago, I'm transported to that exact moment of emotion. I can feel exactly what I was feeling when I first wrote those words. That is why I keep punishing myself with this love affair. By carefully building word and phrases, I can make something meaningful. It helps me remember. It makes me stronger.

Vomit Haiku

It's three thirty-five am,

Why did I order calamari?

Head in the toilet.

Promises Forgotten

Packing up leftovers from Sunday afternoon,
Cold potatoes and promises forgotten.
It's so easy to get lost.
I used to be confident in myself,
In my relationship with God,
In my inner beauty.
I promised myself that wouldn't change.
I've promised God so many things...

Maybe in the fury of being a great co-worker, friend, wife, and mother,
I lost the stillness and quiet that brings me closer to God.
My meditations used to be of higher things then bathroom floors and roasted chicken.
Where do you go to bring you back to yourself?
Do I make another promise, or do I push on and hope that at some point,
I'll be able to take time for self-reflection and happiness?
I wish there was a recipe to bring me back to the woman I want to be.

Havre de Grace

Everyone occasionally plays the fool. No matter how careful we are, there is no escaping it. Not even vast wisdom can save us from our own folly. Even Solomon was a bad father with a weakness for women. I never got an epiphany of wisdom. What are my chances? It is easy to lose face and even hurt someone when you don't want to.
Can you forgive my mistakes? Even when I get lost at sea, you pull me into your harbor; tie me down and keep me steady. I am accepted and even loved; not in spite of myself, but because of myself. Somehow when you kiss me, the world rights itself. The storm calms and I am bound again in your harbor of grace. So kiss me now, the way you have a hundred times. With a light hand on my chin, you say it all: even in my foolishness and stupidity, you love me.
We've both made mistakes. We both have regrets. When we are together it is as if our inadequacies fulfill us. Together rights are wronged. Maybe you are my epiphany of wisdom. You always know how to put me in my place. You are my Solomon, my love.

"Place me like a seal over your heart,
like a seal on your arm;
for love is as strong as death,
its jealousy unyielding as the grave.
It burns like blazing fire,
Like a mighty flame.
Many waters cannot quench love;
rivers cannot wash it away."

-Solomon

In his eyes

Everything is amazing in my son's eyes. Small, simple things excite him. Little, silly things make him laugh. Sometimes I wish I could get a glimpse of the world through his eyes. He delights in the way pebbles feel when his little feet walk across them, then he'll spend 30 minutes inspecting and sorting the same pebbles. He marvels at a pile of tiny ants. The other night he ran over and kissed a tree for no reason. Sliding down a slide is never boring. Puppy kisses are never disgusting. Feeling a mist of water in his face is pure delight. My son stops to smell the roses and then he will smell them again and again. I am so glad he is in my life. Even though going his pace can make things a lot slower, it makes me take the time...

to sort rocks,

and kiss trees,

and giggle.

Anything is Possible

And so it is June.
All the possibilities of summer are at our feet.
I feel as though it is already slipping through my fingers.
Let's grab all the goodness of summer,
Suck it up with the squishy strawberries and keep it warm in our bellies all winter.
Let's go as fast as we can and breathe as slow as we can.
Let's feel everything that is possible and still have the opportunity to feel nothing at all.
I wish I could steal June away like a hostage.
It could be like the bathroom sign we once stole on vacation: a secret souvenir to make me smile.
I wish I could keep Summer in a drawer somewhere,
I could pull it out whenever I needed to feel like anything is possible.

Things I'd love to say

It is a common joke around my friends that I say whatever is on my mind, no matter how embarrassing or ridiculous. This is not entirely true. I am much more guarded at work, then I am around my friends (for good reason). I'm learning to be guarded about what I say around my son. There are tons of things I want to say, but my better judgement holds me back. Despite what my friends say I do somewhat guard my words. I may put my foot in my mouth, but I try not to be rude. It's hard to hold back. Sometimes it builds and I have to push my lips together so the things I want to say don't slip out.

So I am releasing all these things I've held back in one strange post, to clear my jumbled head:


Please just leave me alone.

You really deserve to be with someone better.

You've gained a lot of weight, girl. Do want to borrow my exercise DVD's?

Your kids are completely out of control!

You are kind of creeping me out, dude.

This tastes disgusting!

Don't call me "sweetie or "honey" you chauvinistic prick. (accompanied by a heal grind into his instep)

At the risk of sounding corny, our relationship means a lot to me.

You should be nicer to your wife/husband.

Oh yeah! I totally beat you! I am the queen of the universe. Wooo! In your face!

Don't take this the wrong way, but you are so hot!

Sorry, I am right and you are just plain wrong.

Palease... Get off your high horse!

I love you.


Ahhh.... I feel better now! I can now go back to being polite and slightly guarded. Hopefully my moment of uncensored purging doesn't make you think less of me.