I talk to myself

I talk to myself and that’s okay cuz

I like myself

I know what to expect from myself

I’m never ever rude to myself

Or even a little bit sarcastic with myself

I have been known to deceive myself

And do occasionally surprise myself

Though I can usually predict

What’s going to happen with myself

Every now and again I let myself

Down

But that’s to be expected as myself

Is only human

So when it is necessary

To get a grip on myself

I set aside

A little time

To

Talk to myself




...To The Things That I've Learned Along The Way
Carla Marie 2011

It seems that after
Thousands
Of words
Hundreds of thousands
Of expressions
My fount has
Finally
Dried up
Maybe it’s hormonal…
(cuz this happens)
Or
Maybe I’m depressed… and
Need some ice-cream
(cuz ice-cream always makes things better)
But
I just don’t feel like writing anything at all…
No thing inspires me
To expound upon it
Can’t even seem to write
A bad poem
Unless I count this one
And I don’t
But I do admit
It is bad
So I will re-start
This bad non-poem
And not talk about
Hormones or depression or ice-cream
(even tho ice-cream always makes things better)
I’ll not expound upon
How I am un-inspired
To ever again
Wax poetic…
But will instead merely query~
Has my fount
Truly
Dried up?

It appears that I am now
At that age…

The age at which
The older folks of my youth
Shook their heads and talked softly together and
Pat-hugged each other and held hands with sad eyes... and
From the corner of my young ear
Without full comprehension or understanding~
“If there is anything I can do…”
Or
“I’m so sorry for your loss…”
Or
“Bless your heart…”

Then time got away … and
Here we are… and
Somehow surprised to be…

At the age at which
Every other body’s
Mom or Dad or Parents
Are merely needful
Or dying
Or dead… and
We are now the
Caregivers… or
Caretakers… whether
Primary or In Addition To…
Enthusiastically or Reluctantly… it is now
Our turn…
With
Every other body
To shake our heads and talk softly together and
Pat-hug each other and hold hands with sad direct eyes and
Complete and Profound understanding~
“If there is anything I can do…”
Or
“I’m so sorry for your loss…”
Or
“Bless your heart…”

For sadly
We are now
At
That Age

There is no magic potion
Or Spell or Hex required
No Doctrine 
Or Approbation
Or Degree to be acquired
There is no formula or recipe
Modus Operandi 
Ritual or Rite
No red tape 
No routine
No code words to recite
You can bring your baggage 
Or leave it
Or I can help you to retrieve it
And unpack it
Or unload it
Me of mine
You’ll help relieve it

It’s just love Baby…

It’s not so hard to do
Just to me bring 
The very thing
That I convey to you

Just love me Baby…

It’s not so hard to do
Just to me bring 
The very thing
That I convey to you

You ever get that sudden surge?
You  Don't know where it came from
A salty pulse behind the eyes
That swells
Then leaves your skull
A smell
A taste
A tune
A movie
A wave from those
That have gone on
A hail from heart to brain
From where
They now belong.