Old Wounds

Standing here 
on the edge of Earth 
watching the water 
splash the dirt, 
I am reminded 
of how the world 
has worn me down 
and left me 
with deep wounds. 
Then I look up 
at the cloudy sky; 
There is an opening 
and the sun 
comes streaming down 
showering me 
with God's warmth, 
and I am reminded 
of how I was forgiven, 
and my wounds 
were filled with love.
(c. 2000)

Note: This was written on a retreat with the Life Teen Youth Group from my church, All Saints Catholic Church in Dallas, TX. I distinctly remember standing at the edge of the lake on a stormy day and these words bubbled up inside of me. Definitely a memorable day and a happy poem.

Satan's Gift

I am nothing but a dirty human- 
with human fears, human tears, 
problems,and a past to let go of. 
I have a human future, 
and even human desires. 
So how could an angel, 
so pure and fine as God, 
have loved me like you did? 
Your wings like snow; 
Your beautiful golden halo. 
My dirty hands; 
My red blood and mortal soul. 
When I cried my salty tears, 
You lifted me up 
and carried me to grace where I was happy. 
I then returned to mortal Earth 
and all these earthly problems. 
Why have you left? 
That sweet taste of heavenly love 
has left me aching for more of you.
(c. 1998)

Note: This was written a few years after the end of a relationship with the first boy I ever loved. It took me a long time to get over it. I chose to title it this way because it felt as though the relationship had a been an evil gift: something short and fleeting, nothing more than a tease. It was also written long enough after the end that it started to feel like I'd never love another person the same way. The religious themes are there because they were a big part of his life and mine. So this is for BP.

Lord, I'm Tired

Help me, God. 
I don't know what to do. 
She is a sword 
stuck in my side. 
Much like what happened 
to Your Son. 
She twists and turns 
to wring more blood 
from my weak body ... 

I need your strength, 
I need your patience. 
I can't do this alone. 
I need you to guide me 
and I need your steady hand 
to hold my weary heart.
(c. 2002)

Note: I'm not really sure which "she" I was referring to. I have a pretty good idea because there was only one girl who really made my life miserable enough to warrant this kind of poem. Suffice it to say she was out of my life quickly and hasn't made another appearance. To my relief and probably hers as well. I do believe this is for KP.

Almost

When the pain 
strikes this deeply, 
it's more of a time 
to think 
than to cry. 
Because I wonder, 
'Why does it hurt 
to much to make 
my soul bleed?' 
You almost stole 
forever; 
You almost stole 
my dreams 
and smashed them 
at my dirty feet.
(2001)

Note: This was another poem written for RM regarding our almost relationship. There was almost something, almost heartache and almost pain. But it never happened. I was trying to figure out why it hurt so much when it was only ever almost.

Real-Life Hero

You sat me down 
and cleaned my dirty feet. 
Like Jesus 
you turned around 
and took my breath away. 
You showed me mercy 
and perfect love. 
You, like my Savior, 
gave me a reason to smile. 
What a friend 
to mend the hole, 
to sew up the tear 
that you made. 
What a friend ... 
and for all you are, 
I love you.
(2001)

Note: This was written after I graduated high school about a guy I'd gone to school with for years (think 3rd grade through graduation) and he played piano at my Catholic church but was not Catholic. We had many great discussions one summer and I came to realize that I loved him very much. He told me that he'd had a crush on me for years but as we got to know each other he realized that we were not meant to be together in any way other than as friends. He handled it very diplomatically and was very sweet about it. He's just about the only person I've ever met who is capable of that conversation! So this is for RM.

Run

Where is the joy, 

Where is the grace,
in hell?
What did I do,
Where did I grow wrong?
Did I really earn
this hell?
In the darkness;
No light,
but I feel
your warmth
flow through me.
Almost there;
The finish line
fades away
into neverwhere.
How do I know
if I win?
How do I know
if you lost?

(c. 2000)

Note: This was written for my boyfriend of the time. I gave it to him and he loved it (Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman was the name of one of his favorite books). It's about the hell I thought my life was and how he gave me hope even though I had no idea where either of us was going. This is for SM.

Oldies But Goodies... Maybe.

Over the next few days I'll be posting some of my old poetry. When I say old, I mean old. It's all over ten years old and it shows. When I found them again recently and was reading over them, I was slightly chagrined at the naivete involved. However, as the years pass we all learn new things and improve upon our skills. I hope my new stuff shows progress and is better developed. I have a clear style when it comes to my poetry and it's easy to distinguish.

During this trip down memory lane, I hope you enjoy the words and emotions expressed. I also hope you express some words and emotions with me. Nothing makes me happier than feedback, but do please keep it appropriate.

Catch you on the flipside....

The One Place

Clothes on the floor

Trash overflowing

Toys strewn about

Meals easy going.

We yell back and forth

The dog barks back

The kid throws a tantrum

And dirty dishes stack.

My hair’s a mess

And your shirt has a stain

The kid is naked

But there’s no blame.

There’s only one place

Where this is all okay

There’s only one place

Where I want to stay.

(Simple Rhymes-No Title)

Radio’s on, music blaring

Sunglasses on, the sun is glaring

Alone in my car

I won’t get far

Not enough gas

And not enough class

Broke as a joke

But I light another smoke

My kid’s not around

So I don’t want to be found

Driving aimlessly

Mind turning pointlessly

My life is not what

I thought it’d be, but

I’ve got 50 miles left

In the tank before I’m bereft

Next week will be

The same old story

But the days between

Are the days I need.

Note: All I can say is that I love my son.

Young and Full of Fire

Young and full of fire,

I wrote my dreams and fears;

Penned vengeance and forgiveness.

I knew with foolish certainty

The future would be brighter.

I thought nothing could be worse

Than the hell I was living through.

So many clichés

Are flying through my mind

Showing just how ignorant

A teenage girl can be.

Pains of the heart

Are no less painful

Than pains of the body

And the pains of responsibility.

But as I look back

With time shaded eyes

I see the simple life

I could have lived

If I’d stopped wishing.

Note: My life is still hard but in a different way. I am definitely much happier than I was as a teenager, but that's what perspective and experience can do. It has allowed me to search out and appreciate the good in my life despite the bad.