Rahama

Jun 2018

Hannah Marr

My poems are pretty nice, I know
These premeditated thoughts I type up
To show you a sliver of me
But you haven't met me in person

On the other side of this poem
The other side of the screen
I'm just another high school student
Plodding along with the rest

I have a few people
(like, one or two)
Who I talk to occasionally
So I can call them friends

I have a loving family
There are seven of us in the house, though
So it's a bit crowded
And crowds stress me out

I'm a bit of an introvert
So even though I hate to be lonely
I don't really mind being alone
Prefer it, actually, most of the time

In person I'm small
And a bit quiet 'till you know me
Won't talk till you show interest
Then talk your ear off in excitement

I do tend to ramble
This shows in my poetry sometimes
Mostly because I don't have chance to practice
Normal conversing behavior

I talk too fast, and too much about myself
I'm a bit annoying, to be honest
And I'm pretty absent-minded
Forgetting to eat or go to bed on occasion

In person I'm sarcastic
A bit sassy too
But I'm always scared I'll hurt someone
And at the slightest confrontation I clam up

I favor silence, and solitude
As (unhealthy) coping mechanisms
Because I hate bothering people
And will withdraw if I think I'm being irritating

In person I'm shy and solitary
In person I'm too needy and excitable
In person I'm a bit naive and lonesome
In person I'd rather die than hurt anyone

So you know my poetry—
A bit sad and fierce
With a few encouraging works thrown in—
But you haven't met me in person

h.f.m.

Jun 2018

Sjr1000

Emotional Weather

Obstacles/Problems/Pain
Contraction or Expansion
Exhaustion or Inspiration

86400 seconds a day
Hmmm, how's it going to be spent?

Difficulties are about what we care about

Our thoughts are a tool
Mind hates to be present
Evolved to keep us safe

My thoughts, my fears, my past experience
pasted to my face
Covering my eyes so they are all I can see,
While my dogs and cats
The fish the birds
they are all laughing at me.

Self is contact
Self is content

Swimming in a sea of thoughts
Emotional weather always changing

Tug of war, to and fro, trying to make the anxiety go

If I spend my 86400 seconds a day
trying to make the pain go away
No time
to live my life

"Pain is inevitable
Suffering is optional "

Showing up for my awareness

If I'm not living my life
I'm living my fear

Old life
Old values
Living the life I care about now

Compassion for others
Self compassion

Feelings and thoughts are like the weather and
The wind it just blows everywhere.

"Pain is inevitable..." has been attributed to Buddha, however the minimal research I did says he never said that and it appears to be from A.A.
This poem is based on the concepts of Acceptance Commitment Therapy. Many thanks for the language and inspiration to John and Jamie Forsyth.

Rahama Jun 2018

The Trek

He first saw her from across the street
She was arguing with a vendor and from the smile that adorned
Her beautiful face he could tell she'd won
Her igneous personality attracted him to her
There was no way he could not get attached
He was keenly watching all her movements
Committing to memory all that made her dissimilar to others

Her steps were fainéant
Like she had all the time in the world
He was beguiled by the way her hips swayed when she walked
He could not not follow her
He could not not know her
He followed her at the same pace
The thrill of hearing her voice for the first time made his heart race
But that could wait
For now he was content with watching her tread

She switched paths and walked into a building
A dance studio
He felt giddy just thinking of watching her dance
He knew she'd be great at it
The lightness in her steps hinted at it

He entered the building slowly
He was bubbling with anticipation as he searched for her everywhere
He walked into a room and found her
She was facing the door
She looked like she'd been waiting for him to come

"I've been stalking you for awhile
You might need to get a restraining order"
He smiled sheepishly

"I know"
She replied
Her smile promised no restraining orders in future.

Thank you for reading

#trek #love #first #time #relationships #entranced #enthralled #steps #stalk #dance

May 2018

devante moore

I don’t care

Hate me if you want
Judge me if you can
Your thoughts of me
Crumble like the gingerbread man

May 2018

Mary-Eliz

Like a Whisper

He was just thirteen,
still a child,
when he lost his leg.
A tent pole from
a church revival
crushed
the life out of it.
I remember hearing
stories...
gangrene,
doctors having to wait
too long...
something about my grandfather...
they couldn't find him
or
he wouldn't sign
papers.

I'm not sure.
The memories of the stories
are fuzzy.
I just know
my daddy had a wooden leg.

It was his right leg...
I think.

We took it for granted.
It seemed so normal,
his prosthesis.  We never
called it
that...
prosthesis.
It was his
wooden leg.

You might not expect it,
with a wooden leg and all,
but my daddy was
a great dancer.
Light as a whisper.
When he danced,
nobody knew...
about his leg.
And those who did know
forgot.

I can see him gliding
around the dance floor
with my mom in his arms.
They were as one,
swaying and moving
with the music.

Sometimes...

I got to dance with him.
I remember it so well.
I can close my eyes
and
feel the smooth
polished floor
under my feet
and
my daddy's strong
arms around me.

When I danced
with my daddy
I was secure
and
confident.
I felt graceful
and
flowing.
He guided you,
smooth and easy,
so natural.
I can still feel the lilting rhythm.

Now

I'm not a great dancer,
though I'd like to be,
but
when I danced
with my daddy
I could dance.
I was agile
             and fluid
                    and free.

I skimmed the air.

'Cause even with
a wooden leg,

my daddy,

he sure could dance.

This is a "rerun" but some things I've been reading and writing made me think of my daddy, feel nostalgic. He's been gone a good while as he died too young, but I hope he and my mom are still dancing somewhere!

#family #daddy #dancing #woodenleg