Raining on my head.

Life keeps raining down on my head. At times, its a sprinkle, other times, I feel like I'm drowning. Just when I think that the rain has stopped, the clouds gather round again. It thunders in the distance. Soon I'm engulfed in the storm that never ends. The thin line that seperates living and dying is the thin line that seperates my mental security and my insanity.

LIfe is Short

I know that we are put on this Earth for a reason, and as I'm going through school studying English, I'm wondering to myself, whats the reasoning behind it. Throughout the years I've been the singer, the musician. I thought that this was my calling in life. Did I think wrong? Why am I here in Houston, Texas of all places, getting my degree in English? What can I do with that, besides the obvious, being a teacher? I feel like I'm wasting time, but I know that God has his reasons for making me yearn for this subject. I just wish I knew what I was suppose to be doing. My mom went through the same thing when she was on her path of becoming a teacher. I can't count the number of times that I saw her crying and praying for answers, for the reason. I can't say that I've been much different. Constantly, I wonder, and ask for answers. Instead I just have that feeling in the back of my mind and in my heart to continue and do well. I guess my point is, life is short. Stop looking for the reasons. What happens is what is suppose to happen. We only have but a second on this earth before we are gone. We are like cut flowers; we are slowly withering away. This is why I stress that we must live each day to its fullest, or at least try to. Don't worry about what the next day brings. Enjoy every moment you spend here. Look at it like a blessing. Look at each moment like it could be your last.

I can't believe that it has been two years! That is such an accomplishment. Eli is such a wonderful partner to have. I'm so glad that I get to spend the rest of my life with him. I know that this is cheesy, but it's really special to have someone who will get you what you want even though he shouldn't, someone who will try so hard to have a good time even though he feels terrible. I would not trade my husband for anything or anyone in the world. I enjoy having someone who loves me the way I am (I know...cliche). I hope we get to spend many, many more wonderful anniversaries just as good as this one or better.

It's amazing seeing the small joys that God brings to us daily. I really think that with out these small reminders of his presence I could not get through the week. It's things like wildflowers on the side of the road, or the intense color a sunset leaves on the rolling, green pastures. The laughter that comes to us by the smallest act of kindness is yet another example. Good things are always there. My attitude has changed over the weekend. Just the viewing of the happiness on my best friends face when she was married this weekend leads me to believe that there is someone bigger than all of us who wants us to be happy. Now I just need to find a way to keep others as happy as I have been and still am. My only "words of wisdom" for the day are to enjoy the small pleasure that life brings you and to remember who puts those tiny beautiful things into place.

What to do....

It's really hard trying to figure out what I'm suppose to do in tough times. I know everyone goes through these times, and I know that most everyone finds their way out. I've been trying to understand why my life is so different from the rest of the crowd's. It's like I'm in a boat with two rows that won't coordinate with one another and therefore I can't go anywhere but in a circle. This never ending circle that I'm in right now is getting bigger with each revolution. How do I tell someone that I feel offended by her actions? . I do understand what she is going through, but at the same time, I made it a point to not offend anyone. Wow, what to do, what to do?? I know it would probably be best for us all if I go, but I don't want to be alone. All of this comes back to the topic of my husband hating my best friend. Had it not been for this hatred, none of this would have happened. See? Like I said, I giant crcle that gets bigger and bigger. Hopefully things won't get heavy and cause the cirle to warp. Then I'll be stuck revolving on an oval, and that means that it takes longer for things to turn around. Woe is me. Help.

Beer, Benadryl, and Beaches

It’s around 12:00am, and for some reason I can’t fall asleep. I open the mini blinds at the head of my bed, and look out into the night. Everything is still. I can see eight stationary cars. One of the only times cars are still. There is no sign of life, not even the single quiver of wind through the leaves on the trees. The only movement I see is that of an airplane moving in the opposite direction of myself. All I can think about is the beginning of my book, and how the words just won’t come to me. I feel like I’m alone, and writing normally helps that feeling, but tonight its not. I have other things on my mind.
I turn over and try to fall asleep. Insomnia is a monstrous thing. I can hear noises in the other room. I could drink a beer or two, and that would help me to mellow out, and eventually fall asleep or I could take a Benadryl or maybe three, and hope that maybe that does the trick. I pull the covers up to my eyes and pretend that I’m a turtle, now I’m hiding, and I’m beginning to cry. Why is everything so stressful and so chaotic? All I want is to be able to go to sleep without worrying about the damn book, about the damn house and the damn husband. I wish he was home. Of course, duty calls, and that means that the man is the driving force in his life right now, even if THE MAN, puts him on the other side of the world. Damn it! Why can I just not think about him?
I think that sometimes we go through these alone times, these….stressful times, in order to grow both mentally and psychologically. But with the coming of all these womanly changes, I don’t see how I can grow much more. I’m a middle age woman and all I’ve ever wanted in life is a love, some kids, and a home by the ocean. Luckily I’ve got two of the three, but it’s not the two that most people expected me to have. I guess, because I have the personality of a ten year old, and because I love kids so much, everyone...Mom, Dad, Grandma, all knew that I was going to be a great mom. Yeah, well, that didn’t happen. After trying to get pregnant for 3 years, we finally decided to get tested. Let’s just say, it wasn’t him.
All of these things, good and bad, are going through my head tonight. I turn back over and look out the blinds some more. There is life out there! A cat, gray and white, exploring the night life. I remember doing that, back when I could fit in my size 6 jeans, and when my hair was long and blonde. Now, I’m lucky if I can fit into a size 10 jean, and my hair is short and gray. It’s amazing how a cat can remind me of 15 years ago. Huh, yeah now that I think about it, I know why I can’t sleep. I’m a 54 year old woman, in a queen size bed, with no one to hold me, touch me, or make love to me. Honestly, I don’t know that I still could make love if given the opportunity! Shit, why am I damning my house, my husband and my book? I should be damning myself. But why do that? I didn’t do this to myself! I didn’t make myself to be this horrible old hag, who sits up night after night, trying desperately to put her life back together. Whose fault is that? Now who do I blame? Give me someone to blame, damn it!
Oh great, now I’m crying and I’m mad. I look at the night stand beside my bed; the clock now reads 2:30 am. Ok, so I should try the beer and Benadryl combo, and if that doesn’t work, then…I guess I’ll start cleaning up the house or maybe I will go sit of the back porch and watch the tide go out. The tide sounds more promising.
I sit up, I uncover my body, and I turn, then place my feet on the cold floor. My nightgown drapes to my knees and hangs loosely on my body. I don’t think that sleep is an option and I don’t think that the beer and Benadryl combo is such a great idea tonight. I don’t want to kill myself right now, so I need to do something that will make me feel like there is a bit worth living for. I really believe that crying and bitching over spilt milk makes me feel better for a while, but in all honesty, I know that come tomorrow, the mess will still be there and will still need to be cleaned up.
Instead of sitting on my porch, I decide to go and sit on the beach. My cat looks at me curiously from around the corner of the living room door, wondering what all the commotion is about. As I’m putting on my gray sweatshirt, my running pants, and my shoes and socks, I see that the noise I had heard earlier was the cat knocking over the empty beer bottles. Well, I also see that they weren’t all empty. Of course, leave it to me to throw my journal on the floor next to the computer. All of it covered with amber beer, all of it ruined. Maybe it’s a sign. How do I start fresh and new? I grab my beanie and walk down the stairs leading to the beach from my back porch.
It’s just a little chilly out here, but the air revives my skin and I feel refreshed. It’s amazing how just looking out the window left me to believe that the world was dead. I go to where the water meets the earth and sit down. The sand is damp, and it feels comforting to my feet. I look at my watch, and I realize that the time has really gone by quickly. In an hours time the sun will begin to rise and life will begin venturing out again, reviving the earth.
I sit on the beach, watching the tide lay its hands on the grains of sand. I watch the earth cleanse itself, exfoliating its dead skin. One by one the grains lose sparkle as water rushes over them, each time bringing new earth to replace the old. The entire coastline is white and pure. I forgot how just being near the ocean can be so rejuvenating. I feel the cool air of the coastal breeze caress my face, as a mother does her child.
The waves are smaller now. I feel like the shore is growing. Where I sat on the edge of the foam line upon my arrival, I now see it has gone away from me. The sea tries to stay on the shore, reaching as far as it can each time. The earth is thirsty, leaving the beach bare. I feel comforted watching the tide move out. I see that even though it is losing ground, it is still fighting to be heard and seen.
I remember as a child, my mother telling me stories of why the ocean moves away from the land. She always said that it might go away, but it always comes back to us. My mother held great wisdom beyond her years. How was I to know that her words would be echoing in my head in the wee hours of the morning? The ocean holds the many hidden answers to all of the queries of my insomnia.
The colors begin to change quickly, as the sun begins to rise. I wilt onto the sand as I grow weary. As the earth wakes, I lie my head down in the sand. It is time for rest, but I don’t want to leave this placid place I have found. I should go back to the house, crawl in bed, and go to sleep. I think sleep has found me now. I wander up to my back steps; the sun is shining into my bedroom. Maybe I have found my answers. I’ll try them out and see.

Mecca

I watch him.
He prays to his god,
On his hands and knees.
To the god that makes us hate his nation.

He prays…
Knowing that people look at him and he prays
To the god that makes us hate his nation.
Loyal is he who takes the shit for the god that does not exist.

Knowing that people look at him and he prays
Anyway. Regardless. Towards the East.
Loyal is he who takes the shit for the god that does not exist.
Everyday towards the holy city

Anyway. Regardless. Towards the east
He meditates in a state of mind higher than mine.
Everyday towards the holy city
He prays, with the stares of terrorists that kill his mother country.

He meditates in a state of mind that is higher than mine.
To the god that makes us hate his nation
He prays, with the stares of terrorists that kill his mother country.
I watch him.

Forgotten Title/Unforgotten Subject

I wash my hands of the ashes of my dad,
and pray for my death to be quicker.
The lingering of this disease made an unforgettable killing.
Only, he didn’t know it was unforgettable, did he?
I only hope that now things are better,
And that in heaven he can remember me.

I remember when we played, him and me,
and I remember turning flips in the arms of my dad.
When I was sick and needed dad’s care, his smile always made me better.
And he prayed for my illness to go away quicker
when I told him that I felt like I would never be better.
That’s my dad. I love him unknowing that he
is the prey of this unforgettable disease, killing

him. And the day, I was 15, and I made him cry, killing
his heart because I said that he didn’t love me.
I remember that day. He obviously did, and he
kept me home from that party just the same. My dad
knew what was good for me, and to make the night go by quicker
he took me out on a date. I was Daddy’s little girl and it was all better.

Then came my senior year, things had been better
Break-ups, heart aches, friends killing
themselves. I guess they thought that this would be quicker
than to tough it out. I thought about that option for me
because nothing could ever be as bad as this. Dad
understood things were tough, though he

never down-right said it. Still, my dad, he
helped with losing friends, and said that my life would be better
when I graduated and got my mind off boys, and who said what. Dad
always new just what to say to make my day easier. He knew killing
the terrible memories would make me stronger. He knew me
better than I knew myself. With his help, things went quicker.

Now I’m here, praying for my own death to come quicker
than his. I know dad wouldn’t want me thinking like this. He
always said things happen for a reason. He would want me
to live for a very ripe old age, and have a life better
than he could hope for. I hate this disease for killing
my heart, this horrible thing that took my dad.

Dad, please remember me….
Please God, make it all better, as quickly as possible.
It’s killing me to let go.
He’s the best dad you’ve ever made.

-For Dad and for the day I hope we wake from this nightmare.

Splatter:

Today is the day when I admit that I want to die.
Everything in my life has gone awry,
with tables placed before me that,
call me out from underneath what
would have been a sanctuary for my mind.
But how am I suppose to go out and find
what it is that I want? What do
I want in my future, my loom-
ing horizon? I want not to be married,
to the failure that didn’t care if I carried
his child or someone else’s bastard
son. You’re the failure that wasn’t around enough to muster
enough courage to ask me anyway.
With all this emotion lodged up inside of my
mind, I want to yell, that I did it!
I cheated! And I loved every minute!
But I can’t face the man who held me close
before all this nonsense came to pass.
So I’m lying on the floor with our brains on the door,
without so much as telling you more of
why. Today is the day that I took my life,
today I stop being your wife.

Beauty

Beauty lives in a cottage.
She hides in the faces of clocks,
and shows no sign of age.

She stays hidden among the sage
bushes that sleep beneath the locks
of luxurious golden wheat beside the cottage.

She watches through the pages
of old books as a mother begins to rock
her child. Drifting to sleep, age

does not matter, for the page
that rides horses. They talk
to the boy while he sleeps in her cottage.

Does beauty have a name? Or did some mage
curse she who is lovely with endless walk
ing of the earth? Is she cursed to not age

and therefore must watch life cage
what she held dear? Does the cock
that crows in the morning on top of the cottage

frighten her? On the cliff’s edge
she waits for the sun to set, and to lock
her into yet another night in the cottage.
For the sun has abandoned one – beauty—who does not age.

Homework Sucks!

All together now,
we will tell you how

No longer will we do the work!
Why don't you put a cork

in it and and screw it in tight
and make sure that it's secure for the flight

that you will be taking across the universe
to the moon I will send you! Curse

your hide to the depths of hell
and don't come back until

you take away this shit
that takes us to our wits

end and makes us spew
at the thought of you.

No longer will we take it!
No longer will we fake it!

This homework is history,
and your disapearance is no mystery

to the class that banned
research and canned

you,teacher! Forever yours truly,
Your class, unruly.