stefaniasanfillipo - Hello Poetry

the way it percolates driving us mad bringing tears to our eyes often heavy and sad my neighbor claims karma an act of simple fate laughing i drove off his words unaware of my morning escapades an affair with a man married in state his wife wears a crown of the knight that she made his heart, may be heavy his head overwhelmed his pain numb inside mine a throbbing shell under the dripping trees of the Old North State our lips met while our bodies sought fate tangled were our limbs no judgment we laid onlookers know not their ignorance in spades my jealousy gripping like the pulse and the pain our tongues lapping up what others disdain hands clenched together a night full of waves guilty some may cry but please save your rage i have no time for your misdirected pain we work and wonder our daybreaks heavy and claimed years have gone by what have we paid mountains don't move not like thrashing seas nor do carolina skies or the heavy florida heat where will we be when the clock strikes time beneath a hammock of oak or a splintering of vines tobacco barns in sight the owl's swift decline curving roads leading rabbits fly by empty nest for one the other full and spry moments of sanity spared by lucidity medication blurred thoughts windows to the world veins pumping heavy words turned to swords heal we must but how do we know if this is the pain of the stay or the pain of the go anonymity for one, me, i don't care i have no shame for my truth no guilt left to spare my journey, long, spirited and cold my hands pumping blood meant to eventually go

0

Jun 13, 2018

Jun 13, 2018 at 6:02 PM UTC

pain

the way it percolates driving us mad bringing tears to our eyes often heavy and sad my neighbor claims karma an act of simple fate laughing i drove off his words unaware of my morning escapades an affair with a man married in state his wife wears a crown of the knight that she made his heart, may be heavy his head overwhelmed his pain numb inside mine a throbbing shell under the dripping trees of the Old North State our lips met while our bodies sought fate tangled were our limbs no judgment we laid onlookers know not their ignorance in spades my jealousy gripping like the pulse and the pain our tongues lapping up what others disdain hands clenched together a night full of waves guilty some may cry but please save your rage i have no time for your misdirected pain we work and wonder our daybreaks heavy and claimed years have gone by what have we paid mountains don't move not like thrashing seas nor do carolina skies or the heavy florida heat where will we be when the clock strikes time beneath a hammock of oak or a splintering of vines tobacco barns in sight the owl's swift decline curving roads leading rabbits fly by empty nest for one the other full and spry moments of sanity spared by lucidity medication blurred thoughts windows to the world veins pumping heavy words turned to swords heal we must but how do we know if this is the pain of the stay or the pain of the go anonymity for one, me, i don't care i have no shame for my truth no guilt left to spare my journey, long, spirited and cold my hands pumping blood meant to eventually go

66

today today, what about today? tomorrow tomorrow, drenched in heartbreak or sorrow? tonight tonight, my phone rings softly and i see the light. sowing in the earth resists grinding rocks bloodied fists who knows how many hearts have tried narrow fields stitched with pride rage or passion seeds do grow setting out across the snow winter passed, spring anew i wander alone so do you we greet and hold hands so tight lovers by morning starry-eyed nights echoes we recall a summer it came morning called you whispered my name deep and melodic the back of your throat inside of a capsule we scribe you drove heavy weight fibers of news do you know how i write about you i cringe and quake missing the turn your steering quicker than my ability to learn damaged and broken my rims are all bent seedlings of hope washed away and spent flying from above like a diving demand your hand reaches out it carries the sand a tiny piece of earth you watch from so high my drowning demands my inability to pry barking i save for the hollows of night the moon a virginal witness my massive plight when will you set when will we grow seedlings we scattered so long ago some days there is green if i glimpse in the light the turn of your hand from softness to right empty shells some no blooms they will deliver but nothing is certain not in the cold winter my body the forest my heart the sky your love the earth through my simple mind’s eye wind me up set me down please just don’t let these seeds die in the ground

0

Apr 24, 2018

Apr 24, 2018 at 5:09 PM UTC

seedlings and the ground they cover

today today, what about today? tomorrow tomorrow, drenched in heartbreak or sorrow? tonight tonight, my phone rings softly and i see the light. sowing in the earth resists grinding rocks bloodied fists who knows how many hearts have tried narrow fields stitched with pride rage or passion seeds do grow setting out across the snow winter passed, spring anew i wander alone so do you we greet and hold hands so tight lovers by morning starry-eyed nights echoes we recall a summer it came morning called you whispered my name deep and melodic the back of your throat inside of a capsule we scribe you drove heavy weight fibers of news do you know how i write about you i cringe and quake missing the turn your steering quicker than my ability to learn damaged and broken my rims are all bent seedlings of hope washed away and spent flying from above like a diving demand your hand reaches out it carries the sand a tiny piece of earth you watch from so high my drowning demands my inability to pry barking i save for the hollows of night the moon a virginal witness my massive plight when will you set when will we grow seedlings we scattered so long ago some days there is green if i glimpse in the light the turn of your hand from softness to right empty shells some no blooms they will deliver but nothing is certain not in the cold winter my body the forest my heart the sky your love the earth through my simple mind’s eye wind me up set me down please just don’t let these seeds die in the ground

71

the line between the conscious and unconscious self; how easily i eek by and walk it like a tightrope, a never-ending circus act that defies the laws of physics and psychology all in one. studied and rendered, the darkness is forever intrusive and limits the layers of light as they fight for ownership, my spirit and soul far too heavy for a world gone mad with the weight of ego. insecurity, maybe an aimless plight, its acknowledgment hardly anything new but still just as disarming. i watch myself cross the room, moving in direct proportion to the molecules that fill the space and i wonder how much of it i consume, where exactly do i begin and end. how much more can i become without becoming nothing? laughter, a gift; an art form; a defense mechanism, merely a guise to hide what falls below and leaves empty space between. i don’t make others laugh, though i wish i did, could, knew how. instead what i do is force them to think, to draw back, to discern. myself a mere vehicle, never the driver, though often wishing for the opportunity to direct. love is in there too, it brews like tea leaves, ghostly images fallen to the bottom of the cup. no one knows how to read them really, not even me. i am forever in the processing, the guiding, the questioning, the limitless bounty of loss that has plagued this span of existence. i know how to love, but like the winter, my snow suffocates the seeds and forces them into hibernation. a girl without a garden, not one she knows how to tend alone anymore. my back more ache than muscle. my ego, an ant crawling up the side of a mountain. hubris once the feared fall no longer in the picture. think, think, think. too much though. always too much.

0

Apr 24, 2018

Apr 24, 2018 at 5:07 PM UTC

in the processing

the line between the conscious and unconscious self; how easily i eek by and walk it like a tightrope, a never-ending circus act that defies the laws of physics and psychology all in one. studied and rendered, the darkness is forever intrusive and limits the layers of light as they fight for ownership, my spirit and soul far too heavy for a world gone mad with the weight of ego. insecurity, maybe an aimless plight, its acknowledgment hardly anything new but still just as disarming. i watch myself cross the room, moving in direct proportion to the molecules that fill the space and i wonder how much of it i consume, where exactly do i begin and end. how much more can i become without becoming nothing? laughter, a gift; an art form; a defense mechanism, merely a guise to hide what falls below and leaves empty space between. i don’t make others laugh, though i wish i did, could, knew how. instead what i do is force them to think, to draw back, to discern. myself a mere vehicle, never the driver, though often wishing for the opportunity to direct. love is in there too, it brews like tea leaves, ghostly images fallen to the bottom of the cup. no one knows how to read them really, not even me. i am forever in the processing, the guiding, the questioning, the limitless bounty of loss that has plagued this span of existence. i know how to love, but like the winter, my snow suffocates the seeds and forces them into hibernation. a girl without a garden, not one she knows how to tend alone anymore. my back more ache than muscle. my ego, an ant crawling up the side of a mountain. hubris once the feared fall no longer in the picture. think, think, think. too much though. always too much.

5

inside of my mind where no one else goes darkened and shady brilliantly posed flowers run wild while fears plant their seeds i quietly sit spaced out and relieved empty voices speak notes too high to hear other times louder than a scream to the ear windows glow yellow the moon sometimes too mostly alone, unless i think of you i’m walking down roads alone and afraid an empty hand a shovel-less ***** toxic is the blood that feeds off my thoughts memories and wishes destroyed and distraught a kiss far too much an embrace miles away waking and sleeping night turns to day victimless mind how quickly you fall under the spell cast by the call

0

Apr 24, 2018

Apr 24, 2018 at 5:06 PM UTC

when i think

inside of my mind where no one else goes darkened and shady brilliantly posed flowers run wild while fears plant their seeds i quietly sit spaced out and relieved empty voices speak notes too high to hear other times louder than a scream to the ear windows glow yellow the moon sometimes too mostly alone, unless i think of you i’m walking down roads alone and afraid an empty hand a shovel-less ***** toxic is the blood that feeds off my thoughts memories and wishes destroyed and distraught a kiss far too much an embrace miles away waking and sleeping night turns to day victimless mind how quickly you fall under the spell cast by the call

31

follow right down the way soft and lush gardens lay tender day borrowed brush the feeling of hunger the feeling of love my steps so silent coy and light wandering whispers trees at night golden glow sun’s silky glove chirps like gossip high in the trees me on the ground heart skinned like knees pain sufficient tender touch carpeted forest floor where we rush underfoot, i surely run catching up the rays of the sun but who does wait beyond the trees trampled paths fallen leaves find my step stay in line don’t wander from the path gilded lies rings of age too many to count your heart swollen down to pounce wake me when it’s safe to leave my footsteps behind amongst the trees

0

Apr 24, 2018

Apr 24, 2018 at 5:05 PM UTC

where i leave my footsteps

follow right down the way soft and lush gardens lay tender day borrowed brush the feeling of hunger the feeling of love my steps so silent coy and light wandering whispers trees at night golden glow sun’s silky glove chirps like gossip high in the trees me on the ground heart skinned like knees pain sufficient tender touch carpeted forest floor where we rush underfoot, i surely run catching up the rays of the sun but who does wait beyond the trees trampled paths fallen leaves find my step stay in line don’t wander from the path gilded lies rings of age too many to count your heart swollen down to pounce wake me when it’s safe to leave my footsteps behind amongst the trees

40

maybe you won’t like what i have to say maybe it’ll only serve to scatter the remains maybe you’ll shun me violently turning away truth and honesty not always easy prey a manufactured truth tucked away honesty spoken by my heart every day dawns full of words nights often grey being mindful respectful, far away but love doesn’t care distance no moat what road did you wander not the one that we wrote simplicity in terms vulgarity despised my heart the gauntlet trapped behind lies someday’s are forever never to appear time melted long ago your purpose its peer what have you left what have you to give where are the makings the markings the sieve filtered out safe enough to breathe air open, closed lungs dead leaves winters passed, summers too spring always the death of me and you we fight and we flounder the blooms everywhere except for our hearts our heads our chairs i’ll sit and wait i’ll saddle up for the ride simplest of terms no one can describe barbaric torture namely my own fits of weakness life turned to bone find me i demand hold me near end what you suffer embrace what you fear scattered blossoms crepes turned to white willows that weep far off and out of sight fold up the papers toss them about let go of the plundering give up on the doubt once in a while we are given the chance the honesty of love the long forgotten dance so wrap me up tight or silently let me go without justification i’d rather be snow

0

Apr 24, 2018

Apr 24, 2018 at 5:03 PM UTC

truth tainted by honesty

maybe you won’t like what i have to say maybe it’ll only serve to scatter the remains maybe you’ll shun me violently turning away truth and honesty not always easy prey a manufactured truth tucked away honesty spoken by my heart every day dawns full of words nights often grey being mindful respectful, far away but love doesn’t care distance no moat what road did you wander not the one that we wrote simplicity in terms vulgarity despised my heart the gauntlet trapped behind lies someday’s are forever never to appear time melted long ago your purpose its peer what have you left what have you to give where are the makings the markings the sieve filtered out safe enough to breathe air open, closed lungs dead leaves winters passed, summers too spring always the death of me and you we fight and we flounder the blooms everywhere except for our hearts our heads our chairs i’ll sit and wait i’ll saddle up for the ride simplest of terms no one can describe barbaric torture namely my own fits of weakness life turned to bone find me i demand hold me near end what you suffer embrace what you fear scattered blossoms crepes turned to white willows that weep far off and out of sight fold up the papers toss them about let go of the plundering give up on the doubt once in a while we are given the chance the honesty of love the long forgotten dance so wrap me up tight or silently let me go without justification i’d rather be snow

74

come home to me leave the past behind all of those pains and scars dead you keep them breathing and alive feeding them filet and lobster with that they'll never tire who could the ground spins in retrospect and nothing moves quite as it should the tree limbs shake and crumble the weight unbearable even under the owl's watchful eye broken and lying on a bed of leaves walking the night moon high us too tears fall hard and we shout louder you say but i've no voice left my shouts died with my last hanging hands once soft and loving now placed around my own throat strangling out the silence muting my words my work, unfiltered but only on walls that won't see the daylight scars stitched haphazardly opened up, projected violent rage of reason i am not the driver, nor the guidance system my direction a vague notion upon a nautical spread while you loop tires spinning on dusty roads the valley calls but the signal always fails silence the end note to my questioning

0

Feb 13, 2018

Feb 13, 2018 at 2:10 PM UTC

run away

come home to me leave the past behind all of those pains and scars dead you keep them breathing and alive feeding them filet and lobster with that they'll never tire who could the ground spins in retrospect and nothing moves quite as it should the tree limbs shake and crumble the weight unbearable even under the owl's watchful eye broken and lying on a bed of leaves walking the night moon high us too tears fall hard and we shout louder you say but i've no voice left my shouts died with my last hanging hands once soft and loving now placed around my own throat strangling out the silence muting my words my work, unfiltered but only on walls that won't see the daylight scars stitched haphazardly opened up, projected violent rage of reason i am not the driver, nor the guidance system my direction a vague notion upon a nautical spread while you loop tires spinning on dusty roads the valley calls but the signal always fails silence the end note to my questioning

38

birds take flight on a windowless night but the crows continue to gather nosy beaked wings, oil-streaked they have no business among us watching our eyes laughter silences our lies and the den grows quieter faster without the heat stalking pointed feet one falls prey after another stolen eyes long gone dry the widow reaches for her master gun in hand sleeping sand the crows do finally scatter

0

Feb 12, 2018

Feb 12, 2018 at 2:28 PM UTC

valentine's eve

birds take flight on a windowless night but the crows continue to gather nosy beaked wings, oil-streaked they have no business among us watching our eyes laughter silences our lies and the den grows quieter faster without the heat stalking pointed feet one falls prey after another stolen eyes long gone dry the widow reaches for her master gun in hand sleeping sand the crows do finally scatter

21

wandering, lost rugged highway vines aloft simple sails ragged nails heart's a'torn mourning bourne forest night naked morning light withering grass rolling sass southern nights warbler's flight winter-thatched spring to hatch only here, no where near go away foggy sway willow bend arms to lend nightly swoon that ******* moon

0

Feb 2, 2018

Feb 2, 2018 at 7:19 AM UTC

simple soul

wandering, lost rugged highway vines aloft simple sails ragged nails heart's a'torn mourning bourne forest night naked morning light withering grass rolling sass southern nights warbler's flight winter-thatched spring to hatch only here, no where near go away foggy sway willow bend arms to lend nightly swoon that ******* moon

23

it doesn’t seem that long ago that i was a young woman with a baby in my arms, little fists fitting neatly into my own, breath of my breast and an infectious smile that appeared early. of course to say it wasn’t long ago is a bit of a lie, as it’s been nearly eighteen years. today, nearing my mid-forties and a very different person, i find myself in-between dimensions. time seems to have sped up and i am facing my own mortality as if it were a lover. i have fallen so many times in the years between my baby’s midnight cries and his approaching graduation that i’m not even quite sure if i’ll be walking there or crawling. but i do know i’ll make it, whether it’s under the light of a southern sky or from behind the cover of a darkened and eternally masked visage. my journey from then and there to here and now has been bumpy. i’ve grown and shrunk, fit in and stood out, fell down and climbed over; basically i’ve turned myself around more times than a spinning top in the hands of a wild-eyed youngster. disappearing, that has been different, less climactic, quieter, more revealing, yet terribly isolating. my actual self, a shrinking figure in a mirror hung so long ago i can’t remember why it was even chosen, its shape too small for any person to do much mirroring. like the mirror, i can hardly recall who stands before it most mornings, my body, bones mostly with very little extra flesh to speak of harshly. untouched, sacred, THIS body has only been seen by my healthcare provider. no man has seen me disrobe and i can only laugh at what i spent years trying to achieve through the repetitiveness of running finally realized at the hands of a long-term love affair with darkness. food, always the enemy, not so much anymore. i don’t spend a lot of time thinking about it, eat only when i’m hungry, and refuse to deny myself the pleasure of ice cream because of extra skin hanging at my waist or thighs. those days have passed. the thoughts still exist, the what if’s: what if i get fat again, what if i can’t fit into my size 2 skinny jeans, what if i have to wear a real bra again? i try to push them away as often as possible but they lurk, triggers in the land of odd. when i gave birth to my son i weighed almost 200 lbs. i’m only 5' tall. i was a round little thing with hardly any love for myself. today i weigh nearly half of that, have a healthy bmi and feel pretty good about my body. you’d think that would equate to happiness; wrong. rather than stretch this out i’ll tie it up, neatly. the smaller i become the less there is of me to hate. shrinking away from everyone and everything, quickly initially, and then slowing down as the years have passed, i’ve found that if i can just squeeze into the tiniest of spaces i won’t hurt so much. there isn’t much of me left to lose and i’m quite cognizant of that, while also keenly aware of the abilities my tiny frame provides, like climbing trees, running at break-neck speed and disappearing in a flash. eventually i’ll find the shape of my elderly aunts in that ******* mirror, but for now i’d rather grow invisible, tiny, forgotten.

0

Jan 31, 2018

Jan 31, 2018 at 7:01 PM UTC

how i disappeared

it doesn’t seem that long ago that i was a young woman with a baby in my arms, little fists fitting neatly into my own, breath of my breast and an infectious smile that appeared early. of course to say it wasn’t long ago is a bit of a lie, as it’s been nearly eighteen years. today, nearing my mid-forties and a very different person, i find myself in-between dimensions. time seems to have sped up and i am facing my own mortality as if it were a lover. i have fallen so many times in the years between my baby’s midnight cries and his approaching graduation that i’m not even quite sure if i’ll be walking there or crawling. but i do know i’ll make it, whether it’s under the light of a southern sky or from behind the cover of a darkened and eternally masked visage. my journey from then and there to here and now has been bumpy. i’ve grown and shrunk, fit in and stood out, fell down and climbed over; basically i’ve turned myself around more times than a spinning top in the hands of a wild-eyed youngster. disappearing, that has been different, less climactic, quieter, more revealing, yet terribly isolating. my actual self, a shrinking figure in a mirror hung so long ago i can’t remember why it was even chosen, its shape too small for any person to do much mirroring. like the mirror, i can hardly recall who stands before it most mornings, my body, bones mostly with very little extra flesh to speak of harshly. untouched, sacred, THIS body has only been seen by my healthcare provider. no man has seen me disrobe and i can only laugh at what i spent years trying to achieve through the repetitiveness of running finally realized at the hands of a long-term love affair with darkness. food, always the enemy, not so much anymore. i don’t spend a lot of time thinking about it, eat only when i’m hungry, and refuse to deny myself the pleasure of ice cream because of extra skin hanging at my waist or thighs. those days have passed. the thoughts still exist, the what if’s: what if i get fat again, what if i can’t fit into my size 2 skinny jeans, what if i have to wear a real bra again? i try to push them away as often as possible but they lurk, triggers in the land of odd. when i gave birth to my son i weighed almost 200 lbs. i’m only 5' tall. i was a round little thing with hardly any love for myself. today i weigh nearly half of that, have a healthy bmi and feel pretty good about my body. you’d think that would equate to happiness; wrong. rather than stretch this out i’ll tie it up, neatly. the smaller i become the less there is of me to hate. shrinking away from everyone and everything, quickly initially, and then slowing down as the years have passed, i’ve found that if i can just squeeze into the tiniest of spaces i won’t hurt so much. there isn’t much of me left to lose and i’m quite cognizant of that, while also keenly aware of the abilities my tiny frame provides, like climbing trees, running at break-neck speed and disappearing in a flash. eventually i’ll find the shape of my elderly aunts in that ******* mirror, but for now i’d rather grow invisible, tiny, forgotten.

7