ice maiden

Sometimes? It's just too damn cold.

**************************************

i am
clenched hands
slow feet
chattering teeth
held together by strings of yarn
wrapped and wound in knots and knits
shuffling in mimeodance through
snowdrifts
small scale
still drifts and drifted by wind
cutting cross cheeks and chin
dwarfed in immensity
stars icechips in frozen sky
moon a slice of lemon pie
did i rhyme
the chill must be affecting my brain
tears sting my lashes
if they freeze
will i become the ice maiden
crystallized in hoar frost white
bound to earth in winters grasp
and when they come searching
will the warmth of my beloveds arms
free me again
or will they chip me away
mount me on a pedestal
display me in climate controlled conditions
for all to see
and ooh
and aah
over ice made flesh
or was that flesh made ice
the one made the other
i cannot recall
or was that forecall

perhaps
i am too close to nature tonight
for i cannot tell
where winter leaves off
and i begin

weakness

This is how I generally feel when I'm outside these days. I'm such a wimp.

********************************

snow frosts the branches in icing swirls
candy coating chocolate bark
my mouth waters
instantly freezing and i wince

i am weaker than i thought
thin skin and thinner blood
knives of air lancing my lungs
i shudder

my days of youth were spent in tropic sun
warm torrential rains or
my lungs sliced by dry heat instead
fifteen years ago and still

i find the gingerbread images before me
tastier to see than feel
struggling to find beauty in all my senses
defeated by the cold

i shrug and wonder
perhaps my lesson today
is my weakness in the icy face
of winter's austere strength

Inner Child

I was, by all accounts, a bright, outgoing, bouncy, extroverted child. I was the chubby-cheeked darling who toddled up to another child, whom I had never seen before in my life, in some European airport and flung my arms around him as though he were my long-lost bff. I was bright-eyed and adventurous, making friends left and right with people young and old.

It changed around age four or five. It all blurs in my memory. The timeline fuzzes over and I can't remember whether certain things happened before or after or during kindergarten. I don't know which events slammed me first and set me up for others. I don't know when the walls started going up, or how fast I built them, or all the reasons why.

My therapist wants me to create the timeline. She wants me to through it in my mind, step by step. She also wants me to find out what else might have been going on in those years, aspects of my environment that may have had more impact on me than I know: the sort of things that would be internalized by a bright, emotionally sensitive child and become a part of her without anyone ever dreaming she even noticed.

What is it, she asks, that convinced you so long ago that you would never be good enough?

I don't know how much I can dig. I'm aware of certain elements, and facing those are hard enough. I'm not sure whether I even want to know what else might have been going on, what else might have happened. What I do know is that when I think back to those years, I'm swept away by a wave of grief and anxiety.

I've been talking a lot to my closest friends lately about the nature of my relationships. It's anything but coincidence that I do not have a close girlfriend who lives close enough to be a part of my daily life. I have a couple who live within driving distance, but such is the nature of life and metropolitan suburbia that we rarely see each other and mostly settle for chatting on the phone.

The three girlfriends who are currently my most intimate friends? The closest lives an hour away--forty-five minutes if there aren't cops around--and the other two lives states away. One I've only seen face to face once in our friendship. The other I haven't seen in fifteen years.

It's safer that way, you see. Let someone be intimately close AND be a part of your daily life and the emotional risk becomes too great. If something goes awry in the friendship or someone moves, there's a deeper loss. And even then, be careful what you say. Be careful just how much of your naked, raw, and oh-so-tender inner self you let anyone see. Keep everyone at an arm's length, for protection.

MTL is the first person I've let all the way in.

I knew it would be a risk. I knew that if I was going to let him in at all, it would have to be all the way. All or nothing. He wasn't going to settle for less. And deep down, I didn't want to either.

I didn't know how much of a risk it would be. I didn't know how unprepared I am, from a lifetime of walls and numbing myself down and disconnecting myself emotionally, for both the joy and the pain. Because it turns out that when you love someone enough to let them all the way in, everything becomes brighter and stronger and sharper. It means when I hurt him and he hurts me, whether intentional or otherwise, the pain is agony. It also means that the joy is bigger and deeper. Thankfully, the joy far outweighs the pain and is far more common, but...

But.

Here's where I'm flung back to that five year old self. Here's where I sit and realize that deep down, despite everything, I still don't believe I'm deserving of love and joy. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. I keep waiting for him to wake up one day, realize that I'm not worth it, and walk away.

Because deep down that little girl is huddled in a corner, whispering that everyone leaves. And they leave because that is what she deserves.

I don't know how to talk to her. I don't know how to face her pain. I don't even know all the reasons she's there.

*****************************

"little girl"

little girl
sit quiet in your corner
veiled in plain sight
shield yourself from
anyone
who might see what's there inside
know what's inside

little girl
put on all that armor
fend off every look
protect yourself from
anything
that might break through to your heart
might break your heart

it's pain that teaches you to hide
fear that teaches you to run
never reaching out
never reaching in
always in flight from the unknown
that which you can't control

little girl
who tore out your heart so long ago
and told you you'd never be enough
for this world
who made you crawl into
the walls of your own mind
the armor of your own skin
the shield of invisibility
for those without the will to see
and they never get to know

this little girl
little girl
with a heart full of possibilities

and now you're grown
and still hiding
still building walls
and donning armor
only allowing those you choose
to climb over
and behind
and into your world
little girl
with a heart full of pain

i've always been afraid

of letting imperfections show
cracks behind the mask
porcelain fractures
lying my way through complications
situations
til truth becomes a stranger

of risking heart and mind
fears of failure
imperfect perfectionism
hiding my way through challenges
changes
so walls become my safety

of letting go
letting in
letting out
letting be

because they may not
                       (but they might)
and if they don't
                       (and if they don't?)
because some will not
                       (but some will)
could i bear the pain
                       (the shame)
yes the shame

and so am trapped in fear
                       (and so are trapped)

unless i let go

thanksgiving rain

i'll sit here a while
and breathe
patter of rain on sodden ground
window streaked
not yet chill enough for snow

i feel the miles tonight
between me and those for whom
i yearn
and still
cannot break through this barrier of silence
my words lie dormant
winter seeds untouched by autumn rain

holidays are mixed
always
joy and pain
love and loss
what is and what was and
what never shall be again

i would not go back
even to do childhood over again
i would not change
what led me to my now

and yet
and yet

i turn from the window
blink away my rain
and walk toward warmth
and love
and gratitude

blind

Justice is blind today
not as as she is intended
(to race gender creed
wallet)
but to Truth
they are strangers here
in a system no longer bent
on protecting the innocent
punishing the guilty

she must be lying
they say
apparently a marine is incapable
of crimes like this
he fought for his country
and therefore is infallible

we all know no military man has ever raped a woman
it's unheard of

and because he did not break and beat her
physically
(the damage to her soul and psyche
doesn't test in a forensic lab)
she must be lying

she must have wanted to endure those hours
of questioning
probing
swabbing
repeating again and again
the words she could barely force through trembling lips

she must have wanted to rip apart the only home she had
lose her friend
the sister closer than any of dna
lose the father figure who only hours before
had sworn were she a year younger he would adopt her
lose it all
when they could not choose between her
and their flesh and blood

she must have wanted the pain

i saw the emptiness in her eyes
i heard the story of those days
i felt the reality of her words
(as did the officer who wrote them down
i saw his eyes too)
my stomach churned
bile rose to my tongue
a stench like sulfur and brimstone
the work of hell in a suburban home

but now
out of his hands
out of mine
others make the call

and she
lost
broken
beaten
abandoned by family again and again

has given up
called it off
walked away

Evil once more has won

and i
i have lost my faith
(or rather
my naivete)
in a system so broken
so biased

so blind

home

i wasn't looking for you
didn't know
for sure
that someone like you was even there
i hoped
dreamed
without even understanding what
might be possible

this collection of pieces that make up
you
yourself
ingredients combined to create
this man
whose being calls to mine with echoes
of self and not-self
complementing and contrasting

like the puzzle pieces
in that song
shaped by our lives
and the hand of God

you asked where i have been
and i made you laugh with my reply
but here's the reality behind the words:

God knew what He was doing
keeping us apart til now
i wasn't ready to meet you before
too broken
too lost
my edges were too rough
they would have snagged and caught against yours
rather than sliding smoothly into place
snugged tight
firm
like completion
like peace
like coming home

pieces

woman came from man's rib
so the story goes
created to be helpmeet and companion
but absent, left man with less armor
to protect his heart

plato proposed we were once octolimbed creatures
split by zeus's anger at our presumption
and defiance
now doomed to wander life in search
of our missing halves of soul

either way

one is part of the other and vice versa
and combined
create a larger whole
puzzle pieces from the clay

which do not always match
snug in some regards
rubbing raw in others
and when we are broken
as in this wounded world we often are
our edges catch and rupture

but sometimes
when fractures have healed
and lessons have steeped
and signs have led
and roads have met

we find the companions of our hearts
and finally come home

new

This poem was originally written back on March 19th, but I didn't feel comfortable posting it here until now. Credit my love for e. e. cummings and the influence of a muscle relaxant (my back was BROKE, peoples) for the slightly unusual style.


i screamed openmouthed in terrorwise
link    ed to you despite sp ac e

strung like pearls on rope  made of
lies
i am
not wondering where you are
closeor                          far
i sang my sorrowsong already and look over
there
is the note against the sky
a bird poised like music on linesofcommunication between
you
and me

i am exempt from your pain

tattooed my denial of despair on skinsmoothsilk
flash my hope at every
one who glances at my feet

theyve trod many a broken path and been worn down to
cracked and bleeding remnants of memory

been there before
been there again
wandering in circleslikestuck

and c   u   t the ties finally broke the chains
though bound by life we made
and now the screams have vanished and I sing
new
love like sweetness on the tongue after bitterhate
i am newtoo
and will not coat my heart in nacre to hide the wrong
with  in

no
i shine like diamonds

mea culpa

i find myself welling with anger
so easily
so quickly
the snap of a finger at a single word
no patience left
the well is dry

"i see stupid people"
he writes
and i can only agree
yet wonder if perhaps i see them
through a glass tinted darkly
my own shadows taint the light

the road has been long and weary
and although it draws to a close
uncertainty clouds the finish line
not in whether it was the right road to travel
but whether the end lies as close as it seems

so much could go wrong
still
concealed tripwires
unseen holes
camouflaged stones that may yet bruise my feet

i am worn
yet taut with strain
counting the hours
while knocking on wood
fearful still of Murphy and his thrice-cursed law

so find myself snapping
stretched thin and angry
throttling the words that threaten to erupt
from a throat raw with tension

forgive me
even though i know what i do
extend me grace
beyond what i have given you

and perhaps
tomorrow
perhaps
perhaps

"my prayer": a mother's day poem

my precious child
you grow so swiftly
so soon beyond what i have known
racing through each day
a brilliant flame of pure and vivid life

i stand
and watch
and since i cannot halt these fleeting moments
i bow my head
and pray

i pray for you strength
of spirit as well as body

i pray for you mercy
for self as well as others

i pray for you friendship
of soul as well as play

i pray for you success
in mind as well as pocket

i pray for you wisdom
in small as well as great

i pray for you joy
in hardship as well as ease

i pray for you faith
in God as well as humanity

i pray for you love
in friends, in family, in future beloved

i pray for you
all the blessings of this life
and eternity in the next

and that you should always know
the depth
the breadth
of my love for you

Reheated Coffee

For various reasons, I'm reposting this poem (sorry Lauren, I know you aren't fond of my poetry) from November 17th. This event was real. This is a conversation I've had in various forms with a far larger number of people than any of us would like to think over the last year. It's a far too common story.

"one night over coffee"

you werent the only one
she said
and gazed out the window at the sun
dying in crimson glory on the horizon

i knew there was a reason i was drawn to you
a similarity of pain
our scars are sisters in formation
her mouth twisted a moment and then

her face was blank
no one looking at us would know
we spoke of secrets held for decades
not forgotten

never forgotten

but stuffed beneath our breasts
in pockets of poisoned past
lives we lived in another space and time

perhaps her eye glistened a moment
as did mine
but there was no breaking down
in tears or gasping sobs
that too lay in the years gone before
shut away by minds well trained
no breaches of security
for public curiosity

i cried in the shower the other day
i said
my lips moving in subdued confession
it just happened
i found myself on the floor
with water beating on my back
and tears streaming down my face
and didnt know how i got there

she nodded
ive done that too
but not in a while
it catches me by surprise sometimes

did you ever tell
i asked
and knew the answer before she spoke

i tried
but the only ones who believed
were the other ones they did it to
our parents didnt want to hear
didnt want to believe
because of who they were

im lucky
i said
my parents didnt know
but at least they believed me
and they are mourning now

i looked over her shoulder
at the older man sitting behind us
his eyes kept flickering to my face
to her back
and i wondered if he could hear
the murmured words

his eyes were avid
almost hungry
for what i wondered
salacious stories
of ancient pain
and modern wounds
or confirmation that
he too was not the only one

or had he been one of those
who had torn and ripped away
someones innocence
in the long or not so long ago

too many stories
too many sides
too many scars
and ours will not be the last

climbing

you climb so high
stretching limb and limb
grasping handholds
slipping a moment
then triumphant
stand tall at the summit

i stand in wonder
memories wisping through my mind
not long ago each eight inch stair
from first floor to second
was too much for your chubby legs
you clutched my hand
strained in determined effort
you could climb
but not alone

now you and your brother
race each other floor to floor
my heart in my mouth i issue warnings
not on the stairs
don't play on the stairs
someone could get hurt

yet here i stand below
this wall of fiberglass and plastic
higher than my head
and watch you clamber vertically
poised to catch you

should you fall

you reach the top every time
small and slim and seraphic
your joy contagious
i feel another string stretch and snap
my hands are empty of all but applause

i watch you turn away
run toward another adventure
and wonder when the next step will come

-----------------------------------------------

It's FlogYoBlog Friday. For those of you who haven't, check out MummyTime and her lovely blog, and check out some other blogs too! And for those of you visiting me, I don't write poetry all the time. Just when the inspiration strikes. Welcome!

Beware the Teachermommy, My Readers! The Eyes that Glare! The Brows that Rise!

I am a dork. I am a geek. I am even, upon occasion, a raging nerd.

Monday night I saw the new Tim Burton Alice movie, the one with Johnny Depp...

--Side note and SPOILER ALERT (kind of): this is the second Alice-based movie I've seen this year (the other being the two-part mini-series the syfy channel did this fall, which was also quite excellent) in which the Mad Hatter was selected as the love interest for Alice. Hmmm. What do you think? Make sense? Discuss!--

...and was struck very quickly by its inspiration from the marvelous Lewis Carroll poem "Jabberwocky". I do so love that poem. In fact, it is displayed in poster form on my classroom wall. I mean, how can you not adore something like this:

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought--
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

Not only is it just plain FUN, the grammar geek in me LOVES that the poem is grammatically correct despite containing numerous nonsense words. I have used the poem in the past as a grammar exercise for identifying parts of speech.

And here's where I am proven a true nerd: just for fun, and because I'm a freak this way, I am in the slow and laborious process of diagramming the poem.

Oh yes. Cuz that's how I roll, peoples.

(And holy cow, it's been a while since I've diagrammed. And of course I'm doing it with something as complicated as this. THIS IS NOT EASY. I mean, there are elliptical phrases all over the place, not to mention complex sentence structure. Oy. And how crazy am I that I'm getting really excited about this? My students are mocking me. So are other teachers. And friends. IT'S OKAY. I EMBRACE MY INNER FREAK.)

Just for you, and because I love you, and because I am, after all, a teacher, I have underlined and numbered the nonsense words in the poem. My challenge to you: correctly identify the basic parts of speech used (select from noun, verb, adjective, adverb, or interjection). You get bonus points for correctly identifying additional roles in the sentences (select from subject, action verb, predicate adjective, direct object, object of the preposition)! I may even come up with some Actual Prize (TBD) for the winner.

`Twas brillig(1), and the slithy(2) toves(3)
Did gyre(4) and gimble(5) in the wabe(6):
All mimsy(7) were the borogoves(8),
And the mome(9) raths(10) outgrabe(11).

"Beware the Jabberwock(12), my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub(13) bird, and shun
The frumious(14) Bandersnatch(15)!"

He took his vorpal(16) sword in hand:
Long time the manxome(17) foe he sought--
So rested he by the Tumtum(18) tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish(19) thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling(20) through the tulgey(21) wood,
And burbled(22) as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack(23)!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing(24) back.

"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish(25) boy!
O frabjous(26) day! Callooh(27)! Callay(28)!'
He chortled(29)* in his joy.

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

GO ON. I DARE YOU.

Oh, and darling Heidi (who is also a language nerd and therefore chomping at the bit) says there should be a deadline. She's right. So let's say...submit your work before midnight on Friday (this Friday, the 2nd). And it occurs to me that you should probably NOT do so in the comments, because there may be some DIRTY DIRTY DIRTY CHEATERS out there. So EMAIL them to me: teachermommyblog [at] gmail [dot] com (or click the "Email Me!" button over on the left there), then leave a comment letting me know you entered and, well, commenting. Or you can just comment if you don't want to enter and instead want to praise and/or mock me.
--------------------------------------
*Yes, I know we now use the word "chortle" for realsies. Here's the thing: this was the first place that word existed! It's a real-life demonstration of how literature directly affects language. Carroll created this word. Almost a century-and-a-half later, it is a legitimate part of our language. I LOVE THIS STUFF.

letting go

you strip away my armor
peace by peace
i find myself exposed in raw newness of skin
anticipated pain instead soothed
by understanding

you know me well
as though my mind is linked to yours
i should fear this
i do not do vulnerable well
but you smile
your eyes on mine
and
i cannot help but trust you

so i release the reins
loose the chains
and step forward into this new day

chains

trust does not come easy
when it has been misplaced so often
and though i wish
and yearn
to break free of these chains of doubt

my mind and heart cannot quite agree
they battle for dominance
debate my reality
and just when i think the argument done

switch sides
and i am left adrift in the seas of uncertainty

your intuition is strong
said a woman of wisdom
not so long ago
she gazed across the table
into my troubled eyes
you secondguess yourself too much
and must learn to trust that voice
it speaks truth
and when you learn to listen
you will not go astray

but what is intuition
and what is the emotion of the moment?
they are not one and the same
not always
too often i have responded in the moment
with the emotion of the moment
and found myself down a path
i did not wish to tread

so i sit here in this moment
this chain of moments i see as Time
and listen
trying to hear the voice
wondering if
maybe if
this time i can let go

journey

we wander through this life
never knowing
who
or what
will come our way
and change us for all time

i used to fear the unknowing
of what was to come
(truth be told it scares me still)
but am finding adventure
in what lies next
around the bend

tears may have been my yesterdays
and may yet drench my tomorrrows
but today i laugh
and line my soul with delight

for sorrows fade with memory
even pain dulls its edge
when moments of joy become
frequent visitors instead

discovery

it hit me out of nowhere
and confused
i stared about as if to say
what on earth is this
and where did it come from

then looked inward
since that's where it lay
shimmering gently as if
the cold new england skies
had opened new vistas of soul

it should have been the worst of days
misery and pain and loss
like last year
when my anguish was too great
to contain and so i spilled

and poisoned those around me
too difficult to be around those
who hurt for me
but did not hurt like me
and could walk hand in hand

a mere year later
there has been more pain
there has been more loss
and only days ago i found myself
in tears upon my bed

the darkness of yesteryear
was thick and dense with few
if any glimpses of light to come
i struggled to wade through it
tangible in its weight as it was

but the darkness of today
is wisps of cloud across the sun
burned through by light and love
too quickly gone to lay upon me
like a shroud

i cannot stay within the pit
for too many hands are there
waiting for my grasp
ready to pull me out to safety
poised to hold me tight

and within my own soul i heard
the sweet song of hope
and newly minted from the fire
i caught a glimpse of
Joy

absence

i miss you
your smiles and giggles
your chuckles and sly glances
snuggling in bed on lazy mornings
while you climb and wrestle over me
on me
i am your playground

sometimes i lie there and listen
while you talk and play and fight
in your room
knowing that all too soon
you will no longer be content
with such small things
some books
a train
a dragon
some bears

and find myself torn
between longing for
and fearing
those all-too-soon
not-soon-enough
days and years
when you will be grown enough
to need me less

i fear you leaving me
and yet
know that is what you must do
someday
if i have done my job

and on these days
when the distance is real
the absence already here
i bury the ache
push the loss to the back of my mind
busy myself with all the things
and people
who fill me up in other ways

today
this moment
it's not enough
and i cannot deny
even to myself

yes
i miss you
and always will

[im]patience

patience is a virtue
true
but i'm not that virtuous
and instead sit gritting teeth
clenching fists
eying the heavens to ask
when?
it doesn't seem much to ask
just a deadline
not even an hour
just a date
june 21st
for example
and then i can exhale and say
all right
i can hold out until then

i'm sure this is all very
character building
this uncertainty and fear
lessons i sorely need
in patience and reliance on others
and yes
i know i need to
let go let God
release it all and
take it day by day
all those old cliches
and aphorisms
and maxims
that are rooted in truth

but knowledge
and application
are two different things
i think i may be lacking the gene for patience
so i asked a friend to pull in her contacts
and see if they could splice me one
you see?
i'm already asking for help
and that's better than i used to be
when i thought i had to do everything on my own

maybe they'll earn a nobel prize
for genetics
by decoding a patience gene
and helping me out

until then
i sit here on the couch
remind myself to breathe
think a bit
pray a bit
and quell the urge to catch time by the throat
and throttle some certainty out of it