"behavioral" poems
Ah, the season of gifting.
Antagonist of year-long thrifting.
Tradition sadistic,
Materialistic,
Four quarters in pockets worth sifting.
This year I hereby proclaim
I shan’t be consumed by the game.
Cycle of curse
Purpose perverse
The namesake, an oversight became.
Christ’s birth did in fact begin,
Holiday distracted by sin.
Misguided it be
To forget idly
The sacrifice He made for all men.
We naively regard generosity
As holiday’s behavioral piosity.
But if dollars and cents
Are the tools of offense
Over shadow favor luminosity.
Water in Africa is *****
American child in poverty.
Politics aside,
Convenient homicide,
To enable the ills of society.
In the global economy we flaunt
Wealth by comparison, bitter taunt.
First world problems abound
Pass the turkey around
Central heating and air, what a jaunt!
What if this season we decide
To extend two palms open wide?
Sacrificing ourselves
Rather than stocking our shelves
Dying whispers echo true: “we tried.”
Don’t spend your money on me this year.
Not iPhones, not tickets, not Blu-ray or beer.
Instead know you can
Distribute more than
A snort, a lie, and a tear.
(optional conclusion to assist interpretation of last line)
Snort of derision,
Lies of provision,
Tears, even true,
Hardly subdue
Anguish deprived of tradition’s revision.
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 5:25 PM UTC
she is
a very naughty girl
she never follows
policy to the letter
she always
does the wrong thing
she needs some discipline
she's proficient
at defying the law
she knows not how
to get the message
she doesn't
listen intently enough
she fills many charge sheets
with her misconduct
she is a girl
with a streak of wickedness
she has all the hallmarks
of someone who is naughty
I speak of Ursula
in the above list of bad deeds
and there is a hope
that her bad deeds
can be quickly remedied
the hand of an authority figure
will bring her back into line
as she has too often
strayed from that line
whence appropriate corrections
are implemented
all her behavioral problems
shall be circumvented
then and only then
a change will eventuate
and she'll no longer
be showing her bad traits
really naughty girls
such as Ursula
can become more like
a pleasant seaside peninsula
watching her radical transformation
shall be a sight to see
so we'll keep our eyes focused
on what Ursula shall soon be
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 6:13 PM UTC
Genderqueer contesting histories climate apocalypse social activist make a tax-deductible donation today starting at the advocate level inextricably to reexamine his legacy linked black gender-ambiguous social and political struggles behavioral economics Afro-futurist vision of decolonize this text white boy spear-heading queerphobic witch-hunt singular surrealities queer Shabbat dinners dialogue this trope diversity Rawlsian diagnosis basic earth cooperative existential Marxism for our times starting at the advocate level inextricably to reexamine his legacy linked black gender-ambiguous social and political struggles behavioral economics Afro-futurist vision of decolonize this text white boy spear-heading queerphobic witch-hunt singular surrealities queer Shabbat dinners dialogue this trope diversity
BAM! BOOM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BOOM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BAM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BOOM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BAM! BOOM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BOOM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BAM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BOOM! THUD! SNAP! BURN! FACT! S.T.E.M.! CRUSH! SNORT! SCHOOLED! WHAM! OWNED! BAM! BOOM! THUD!
Feb 18, 2019
Feb 18, 2019 at 4:53 PM UTC
The worest pain of all pains
The unreasonable hatred of persons
The blined conclusion of a grudge
That eats you in and outside
The ailment that weakness the strong
And weights a person by the color of the skin
The insolent behavioral catagory of human
The foreboding labeling that robes person's greatness
Which I call this
'RACISM.'
Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 4:16 PM UTC
We live in a society that is reluctant to hold individuals accountable for their actions.
They did this to him because of his smile.
They did this to him because he was in the bar bathroom a long while.
They did this to him because of his clothing style.
The environment can create stimuli and stressors which trigger predispositions.
Predispositions of behavioral tendencies to make bad decisions.
They did this to her because they saw it on TV.
They did this to her because nothing comes for free...
or at least easy.
They did this to her because of how they were raised by mommie.
However, at the end of the day, you have ****** autonomy.
Physically responsible for your own actions,
you have damaged another human...
being.
You don't want to accept you could do something so heinous to another human's ****
or ******
Morally responsible to actively educate,
yourself.
How to live in a world with other humans whom differ from you.
People who you may not completely understand.
She said no, but things happened so fast.
Kept go-ing on, not for long he didn't last.
He might have been interested at the start of the night,
but wasn't trying to be perceived as putting up a fight,
resisting what his assailant created, his forever tragic night.
I'm not big on the concept of 'deviant behaviors' or 'social taboos.'
Certain things however, you should know what to do.
We violate others' rights, freedoms, privileges, happiness, mental stability, and personal well being.
And For What?
It doesn't matter if you're gay, like metal music, or get drunk, because
We can't blame the color gray.
not tomorrow nor today.
Don't sit, just stand, get up and say.
Advocate that **** is wrong every innocent second of each precious day.
more clearly defined, not merely social constructs within a particular society.
Long story short; **** is Wrong. Get and Give Consent. Be Safe as well.
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 1:46 PM UTC
Imma write her a lullaby
Like twinkle twinkle you ain't a star
Hit me to chill isn't that situation bizarre
Cause you broke it off
And you still struggle
How many dudes you call since me just to come over and "snuggle"
Bugga boo, I'm so far into
So far gone
The gambling man would bet that she ain't got a clue
Stuck to you like glue
I rather feel the pain than be attached
Rip it off slow just to be gone and detached
Imma make you realize what 3 years cost
A paycheck, a man...oh yeah and a boss
Undateable..you think that's a natural reaction?
Stop looking for others to blame for ya behavioral actions
Like "sorry ms Jackson" you ain't an outcast
A king need a queen not a piece of unloyal ***
(nice)
Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 11:04 AM UTC
Do not squeeze
the life
out of your life
trying to follow
someone else's
principles of right
and wrong.
~mce
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 7:02 PM UTC
i spent a week
in the behavioral center
psych ward
mental hospital
they said three to five days
they said they wanted to monitor
i spent a week
simplistic routine
group and rec therapy
all so they could see
why
i was feeling the things i felt
asking questions
getting personal
i spent a week
new medication
new friends
new experiences
new diagnosis
all from the psych ward
i notice it everywhere now
why i do the things i do
bipolar
a simple word that explains
EVERYTHING
it all makes sense
the decisions i make
that i wouldn’t normally make
it all makes sense
the racing thoughts
twenty four seven three sixty five
it all makes sense
the excessive shopping
with money i don’t have
it all makes sense
my mouth and my brain
racing
but not on the same track
it all makes sense
i spent a week
in the psych ward
-k.l.
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 9:22 PM UTC
This divided society
putting most of us in poverty
but can't do nothing 'bout it
cause the computer cuts us too neatly
Still upholding the divinity of Austrian economic theories
when for the last hundred years
the rise of the dollars been all about
demographics & behavioral science
Capital is nothing more than a natural resource
I don't care that you got there first
The aquifer runs wide
please don't poison mine
Profit is nothing but an unpaid cost of labor
Cause I agreed to a certain pay
I must work the rest of my hours as a Wage Slave
Yeah, you could say it was consensual
but don't have much choice
when I got mouths to feed, a checklist of other needs,
and no extra dough to risk buying
exclusivity rights to plunder a piece of Earth
Human Beings: We call ourselves advanced
when we never been closer to death
Human Beings: We fear the government
while proprietors with most control grab up more
Human Beings: I get more joy buying things today
than playing with the things I bought yesterday
Human Beings: Millennial pessimists, riding out the apocalypse
instead of promulgating progress
Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 9:10 AM UTC
Let’s face it: we’re not all George Clooney.
Most of us need a little help scoring with chicks.
Our dicks—the archetypal genital signal—
Are hidden from sight, &
****** wagging
Will get you arrested.
Perhaps, pheromones may be the answer.
Dr. Winifred Cutler’s Bio:
(As read by Don Pardo, postmortem).
“Biologist and behavioral endocrinologist Dr. Winifred Cutler was the first to establish the presence of human pheromones in 1986 when her team removed sweat from human underarms and found that only the odorless materials that contained pheromones remained.”
Blessed are the
Underarm Sweat Removers,
A Labor cohort
Soon to be SEIU smorganized . . .
Organized, smorganized. | Karen Koedding, Productivity ...
https://www.linkedin.com/.../organized-smorganized-karen-koe...LinkedIn Organized, smorganized. Jan 7, 2015. 209Views; 11Likes; 3Comments. Share on LinkedIn; Share on Facebook; Share on Google Plus; Share on Twitter.
Ka-Ching.
Ka-Ching.
And Andy Stern’s suggestion,
Probably the best for anyone
Searching for a new mate, or
Wanting to move up,
Move up to a new relationship plateau,
Move up to a higher class of ******
Open your nostrils.
Take a deep breath.
Bio continues:
“Dr. Winifred Cutler
Founded the Athena Institute in 1986,
Selected that name
Signifying the mission;
Helping women increase
Wisdom and skill,
Relative to
Their Bodies,
Their Health,
Their Wellbeing.”
Why not a Nobel for Dr. Cutler?
Testimony follows:
“Pheromones magnify my mojo.
I wear the love potion that makes
The most gorgeous gal in the bar--
That kind of gorgeous gal,
Usually out of my league—
Makes her look my way.
Welcome, my fingers
Touch her siren shoulder.
She turns,
‘What do you want?’ she asks coyly.
‘Um, want to dance?’ I manage.
She grins, looks me
Up and down—
Mostly down—
And says, “Not really.”
The verdict?
Apparently, the scent of pheromones is
Still overpowered by nerves.
Let’s face it:
Women can smell fear.
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 4:57 PM UTC
They sent me to a place far away through time and space
Deep in the woods where there was nothing safe
They told me it would fix me, program me to behave
I'll never be able to hide the scars that place gave
Locked away, beaten, berated and abused
It wasn't until later that it came out on the news
Only then was it shown that the horrors were all true
It helps to explain why the survivors are so few
They set us up for failure; set us up to lose
For most of us death was not a hard option to choose
I remember when Karlye hanged herself inside
A bathroom all alone and the staff left her to die
The behavioral modification was nothing more than just a lie
In a land with no liberty anything would fly
They flashed horrifying images rapidly up on a screen
While we listened to audio of tortured souls that screamed
Nothing there was ever what it seemed
Stuck inside the hell of Spring Creek Lodge Academy
Solitary confinement for days on end
Watching in horror as they beat your best friend
Within an inch of his life, again and again
From that day on you didn't want another to begin
They broke my mind to pieces in that place
But not matter how they tried my soul they couldn't take
Others weren't so fortunate; I've been to so many wakes
So much pain came from that place it would be impossible to fake
I hope this is the result you were looking for
When you had two men come in the night and take me out the door
I didn't talk to you for months, I came back forever changed
Like an animal, self destructive, angry and deranged
It didn't program me into the robot you wanted me to be
There is a reason over half of my fellow prisoners won't be seen
A suicide rate like that is so high
I don't blame a single one of them
Though you tried to take away their rights, they had the right to die
The only question left to answer now is why?
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 4:50 PM UTC
Banal, **** Retentive, Introspective Denial
Induces a Passive Aggressive Behavioral
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 3:48 PM UTC
You know that old saying
"Actions speak louder than words"?
Well, I've learned to observe
the behavioral patterns
of when our conversations
become a burden.
I am a professional at
reading the signs
of unamused eyes
and you just stare
right through me.
I guess that is fair play.
After all, I used to say
too much
and you cared
when you could.
Foolish of me to think there would
ever be a middle.
We left on words
misunderstood
and nothing more
would follow.
You had a boundary
that I overlooked.
I guess
"hello"
was all
it
took.
Nov 23, 2019
Nov 23, 2019 at 12:02 AM UTC
They live as a clan in the stone fortress
Barricading themselves from diversity in humanity,
They accumulate all manner of weaponry for strong reasonlessness,
They primitively accumulate arrows, Swords, simis or pangas,
Machetes, clubs, trunctheons and poisonous harpoons,
In full tribal and ethnic neurosis of amok level hatred,
Their behavioral fibres finely tuned towards killing massively
All those of different clan, blood, names and tribal earlobe tattoos
On their misfortunate happenstance of crossing the land
Of collective paranoia; where all but strangely doubts a visitor,
From inside their tribal cocoon they hate without knowledge
They detest all those of alien confession, they hate and doubt,
In stupid fear they believe that sons of foreign land are jeopardy,
We must **** them ere they step on our ethnic comfort.
Your paranoia makes you blind to natural truth
Barely open in the diversity of fauna and flora
On both land and oceans, air and below the earth,
For the bird extant are all but varied; eagles and kites,
Wild beasts are only a myriad of differences,
The trees in your mother’s woodlot are not homogenous,
Life in the seas and oceans is strange variation,
The variation which makes life worth its worthiness,
Rise above the folly in your collective paranoia
Pedestalled on the neurotic fear of human diversity.
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 7:00 AM UTC
Inconceivably generous. I am deliberate. ill-chosen, splintered, and imposed on. As a degenerate, I summon the Master's actions to justify my behavioral grit. My consciousness is as mixed as a Montrachet, yet my heart is as bold as a cheap Malbec.
What is so gently placed before you
Is a hideous manifestation of my world views. Skip the introductions-- pas de deux let's rendezvous into a drunken abyss of "I love you" and when I call to say something is missing-- it's been about 6 shots of regret and a couple of packs of loneliness.
I am like the tear in your sheets. I can make you feel warm until your body meets the open seam. Like that scarf you had around your neck that did not quite hide the marks that I left.
I am Inconceivably generous. I am deliberate. ill-chosen, splintered, and imposed on.
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 4:12 AM UTC
**Can't explain, your lack of concern
Shallow mind in the shallow gutter**
With all the other dark souls warm from their own light
They scare you; you can't help but lock the door and overheat
*Keep yourself away from these ugly people
So you can only lose it on yourself
I'm your Quasimodo dancing on stage with no music
Because I'm the music and it makes us all sick*
With all their behavioral token and superior thoughts
You smile hatefully and spit in their eyes
**You walk so high and you think of yourself
You think you're a prophet to everyone's problems
You are comic relief but you are not pain relief**
*I'm a problem to everyone and most especially you
I'm a ******* and I want you to know that
And that I'm always your low-life Apocrypha
Also know that suicide is the hardest place
for the living and breathing
And that sinners laugh below in a Heaven without actors
Because they know how hard they try*
No you don't
*So they perish
They don't ask for help
I waste everyday I try with myself*
I give all my energy for you
*You tell me who I am like I am
your holy bible*
You're pathetic
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 12:25 AM UTC
i want to be an aspiring nothing
senseless i know
i dont like getting socially acceptable answers, just to not seem weird
why cant people answer me with answers that reflect their true selves
i used to wonder if disorders were characterized by emotional and behavioral problems
and if meant to be's were planned by people
and not by God
i'd be challenging opinions on the challenged and
what do they base humans on?
chaos and not believing in the "right"?
i used to want to be "intelligent"
then i found out to be intelligent i had to meet environmental demands
i dont think i'll ever be intelligent,
and i dont think a person should be set to a title
i grow up daily, and im a variety of things
to be something in particular, there's limits
i'd rather be nothing and do all
than to be something and do one task
i used to adore the word of God,
with pain in my heart
now i get rich from less of the influential, and everything that is taught with no teacher to teach
i used to sin and wait for consequences
now i sin because Jesus Christ died for them
i used to measure my so called "intelligence" by using big words,
later i found out it didn't matter if i used big words in my simple sentences
what mattered was the meaning behind it
i used to wonder what God really meant
i used to think he wasn't significant because of the 3 letters, I was 5 years old
now thanks to beautiful printed letters in the bible i know that he's an option to believe in to be happy
"and when you pray, do not use vein repetition, as the heathen do. for they think they will be heard for their many words." (Matthew 6:7)
i guess that's why im alive, i prayed to die for me repeatedly
my selfish self didn't want to feel pain when someone i loved, left me
i guess purpose grows, and in time i'll know
until then
i'll be nothing but an expression
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 9:38 AM UTC
The spiraling snakes would now like to devour the entire World; nuclear fission may increase the actual value of mortalities in the eyes of "some" - of course as unnecessary collateral losses -, a white condensation trail inevitably passes over a person's head, left by some luxury private plane while reaching Earth orbit. The rule of the constantly suspicious sentries that remain open still returns now and then.
At the last moment, perhaps after five hundred years, the Cyclops-brained titans enriched with testosterone, who have deliberately forgotten the proper manners, the conditions of behavioral codes, the eloquent ins and outs of compliments, will also become extinct; anniversary rings are driven through broken or white diamond wedding rings, because fewer and fewer of them can only truly experience the feelings of the Universe, which alone reside unnoticed in the depths of beating hearts.
They grow respectable beer bellies not only It's pounding, but it's quite a lot, gentlemen Pál Pató, and while the great gentleman's party-dario, bolsoly-babysitter is going on, it's as if everyone is no longer able to bear the enriched, concentrated half-hearted appearance-happiness.
- The city of Nineveh, which has long surrendered to partying, is thus becoming an increasingly sinkable Atlantis, a tiny island of nowhere, which at any moment - if they're not careful - can be swept away by the moving Danube. It would be better to head straight in the opposite, more vulnerable directions, because now everyone is considered a bit of a good actor in fair-boy comedies; what is failure and success at the same time was actually a lesson and a make-up exam! One day - in any case - he will be forced to take off his mask and become a shameless clown!
Sep 24, 2025
Sep 24, 2025 at 12:33 AM UTC
Like tiny cracks in the cement that spill out on the sidewalk her smile.
Like chinks in these metal plates reminding me of here intentionally placed flaws.
She is a melody of unforgettable lullabies that sing me to sleep.
Or usher me to greatness.
And I'll never forget her small nods to nothingness that are behavioral, habitual, silently eloquent beauty.
Her hand gestures that splatter on paper like ink.
Violently she covers her face when she's shy like the waves covering the ocean floor.
And her mysteries speak louder than the voices in my head.
That's why when she speaks all I can ever think about is her attention.
Swooning
Lashing out like a child who can't get a second glance on his elementary crush as he moves cities.
I just wish I could move into her heart.
Because her simple nods of beauty.
Her simple eyelashes that quiver when surfaced against her cheeks.
I'm not awestruck.
I'm awe stuck.
Its not her beauty on her skin.
But the beauty that lies within.
And she wears these emotions like a cursive tattoo on her skin.
I'm in love with the simple gestures and habits she may think are natural for everyone else.
Because her small beauties.
Are what makes her most beautiful to me.
Make my heart warm again.
Apr 3, 2017
Apr 3, 2017 at 12:40 AM UTC
My boyfriend is my lap top computer
Yes he exists
Yes I have met him
I have met him time and time again
touched his face, tasted his sweet lips, and heard him humming me to sleep
I have done all of that
and I have had him ripped away
across rivers
and mountains
and state lines
State lines carved in our hearts deep as French, German trenches
and as wide
as that song they keep playing on my Pandora
and I would walk five hundred miles...
So
My boyfriend
is my laptop.
When I cannot see his face
there are his photos
and a few youtube videos.
When I cannot hear his voice,
skype sends itself to me.
And when I long to hold his hand,
I can push up to my laptop
and feel the whirring warmth
of a hot hard drive.
Is it the same as his chin on my shoulder?
How he's shorter than I am
but he still rests there
with a little difficulty
and so much love.
Can I feel a laptop
breathing softly on the back of my neck at night?
Can a laptop
stop my nightmares?
Surf the roaring waves of behavioral disorders?
Or even really hold my hand?
No.
It is not substitute.
So I will wait.
I will wait for my love
just until I have the time to last up my shoes
I would walk 500 miles...
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 5:06 PM UTC
at this point in my life I still haven't figured out my purpose yet. Some of my friends act like they do, but probably don't. Some of my worst flaws is my obsession with escaping reality which usually causes problems, but who can blame me? Nobody will ever understand how difficult it is to live the way I do, everything I try I eventually hate. I haven't been proud of myself since late 2014 for taking a step towards my pursuit of happiness which got me out of the rut I'd call depression and suicidal tendencies. It's been two years without a suicidal thought and honestly life is great, however The difficulty of living for me is truly my anxiety and probably undiagnosed behavioral issues I probably should seek guidance on but, who knows. My anxiety isn't a crutch for me to build excuses for my actions, it's far worse. My anxiety causes me to feel tense constantly and causes my constant paranoia, it makes me skip meals, and eventually ruins just about everything for me. It causes me to constantly complain and it causes me to never truly rest. My anxiety is the devil on my shoulder and I just can't get him to leave. It truly digs the deepest when I am confronted about the issues it causes for me because I too want to change those things about me that it brings out but I can't, and that's what scares me. I can't figure out how to fix these flaws. Most recommend medication and prescriptions for it but prescription dependency is too much of a dark road for me (not that I've ever had an addiction problem). Some people think anxiety is an excuse but it's not. It's the reason I haven't had fingernails since I discovered biting them off helped me not shake. It's the reason why the inside of my cheeks have abrasions since i constantly chew on it when I get nervous. It's the reason why I can't figure out what my purpose is, Because that devil tells me everyday, give up.
*This devil
Ball and chain
A key made of addiction
that only works temporarily
I want him to go away
But I'm scared of him
And what he would say
His hands clenched tight around my neck
But left no mark
His tail drew a trail
To lure me in the dark
I wish he'd tell me everything is alright
But he won't
Because if he did
he'd eventually just tell me he's lying.
I want this devil to leave
I want this devil to let me be
I want this devil to give me my thoughts
I want this devil to stop*
***Disclaimer: this isn't a cry for help, this isn't woe is me. These are my thoughts. ***
Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 2:02 PM UTC
though strictly Fermi, and oh...(en Rico) plus sun
dre other parvenues, a rapture
surges thru me,
when audibly communicating, enunciating,
and speaking English words
as if hi ken run
a marathon, or zip to the moon,
(take as cheesy tong in cheek)
from this pun
gent, who relishes reading for my eyes and ears
asper myself, which purported nun
sense ink reese sees learn'n
den earn an award,
especially wash'n black board
den breathing intelligent dust
from eraser head could awk cord,
I utter Hieronymus Bosch, bing enamored,
and aye actually confess
tubby a model United Nations chimp
pan zee, and/or other
type of survey monkey hook can huff ford
Old Rotten Gotham horde
sliding down into the behavioral sink...
exclaiming "oh me jack lord"
and getting rescued then getting less on,
sans get'n taut how (muss elf George Eliot)
tubby comb moored
flossed, milled, and taut
tubby trained for Operation Ready Date
by a coop pull oof oot standing chap,
named Adam West, who poured
salty epithets (reminding me, as they roared
that life iz brutal, short and nasty),
part tickly ne'r the end
wharf hew scored
and majority got de toured
until emotionally, physically,
and spiritually enlightened
By Rabindranath Tagore and Burt Ward.
Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 2:11 AM UTC
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Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 12:15 PM UTC
I was a preemie.
Fate tried to **** me
Before I was born.
My poor beleaguered mom
Fell off a chair while pregnant
With me... thus did I come
Into the world.
Beat up from the feet up
And lookin' like a prune...
My childhood was horrific.
I have huge holes in memory.
I can only tell you I was
Starved of love and terribly
Neglected. Mercifully
I don't recall the molestation
And assault I know I endured.
It wasn't my parent's fault.
My father worked 16 hour days
And mom had blinding migraines.
And undiagnosed behavioral
Health problems. She is bi-polar.
But what I remember most vividly
Are the trips to visit my mother's
Sister and her family.
In the Sangre De Cristo
Mountains of New Mexico
Up above Taos.
My mind touched furred mountains
And inhaled the aromas
Of sounds... aspen's disc leaves
Sibilantly soughing
And the Red River flowing
Through resplendent green.
Indian paintbrush and columbine
Sparking on the verges of roads
And nodding their soft blue heads
Respectively.
Once we took a hike to
Horseshoe lake, and
Caught flashing trout,
Their scales making rainbows
To grace their silver sides.
We ate well that night!
On the way home it rained.
A cold, piercing downpour
That soaked our clothes.
All the other kids cried.
But not me.
I was in fairyland.
Coming from the
Sonoran desert I've always
Loved the rain...
The rest of my life I fared
Little better as far as fate
Meted me out a VERY tough
Hand. But I remember
The long hikes on Venice Beach
boardwalk... I walked 8-10 miles
A day. And lost a total of 138 lbs.
I've had to fight like Muhammad Ali
For every square inch of joy.
But I still float like a butterfly...
... and I really try to put a cap
On my stinger. I have one.
But I want to go through this life
As wise as a serpent... gentle as a dove.
Because now I know that
all I've gone through
Had a definite purpose.
I'm a Blues Brother's sister...
... on a mission from God.
*But it's never about ME.
IT'S ABOUT
H I M.*
SoulSurvivor
Catherine Jarvis
(C) September 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 6:29 PM UTC