Mary

To think of her in the silence,
head in hand,
eyes fixed on nothing,
the light changes,
ordinary door frames glint with star spasms,
like looking at Christmas tree lights in a dark room.
The water burns,
submerged in salt,
a thrill sting,
a tickle in my nose
gratitude smacking with desperation of longing.
The miles are so far,
the phone so static,
so plastic.
Not at all like her smile.
Unless she's being sarcastic,
pure plastic and I find more joy there,
camaraderie in a world of strangers.
The lack of sounds invite laughter,
previous moments where I cross my legs hard,
beg her to stop,
a jug of gatorade for a dry spell -
dehydration always a result of good times,
whether party or puke fest,
take your pic,
we do.
She is my respite,
sun on a cloudy day,
reason of nonsense,
horse always fighting my cart.
In a moment like that one,
this one just now passed,
I see her face in the door frame.
She sparkles as always,
sipping red gatorade between
upturned cornered lips,
her brown bangs frame the perfect picture of my home.

Emily

So....
I have like five seconds.
I have so much to say and absolutely no time....
Ugh the story of my life.
My best friend lost her dear friend last night, another death to deal with - my heart weighs heavy that I cannot hug her.
Distance sucks.
My poet is in over drive - all I want to do is write poetry and catalog every moment of my life,
cause yeah it's fleeting and it's all so beautiful - even the shit.
But alas, I sew red hearts for my Halloween costume, neglect my studies and continue to rub swollen eyes that never get enough shut.
And, like today, go to work and feel like I am wasting precious time on something less important than my thoughts and the other zillion demands I will not meet.
I feel very Emily Dickinson lately - the Emily in me wants to recluse up in my bedroom and write poems - stanza after stanza, accounts of what was, what is and what will or will not ever be.
If only I could go unnoticed in hiding....
And that's folks is all she wrote.
Have a blessed day.

Providence calling.

Dense desire cloaked,
molten sweat.

Weather man says “it's gonna be a scorcher out there,”
it’s all good.

Reticent touches,
words,
syntax,
verbs,
anagrams.

Posy caked vanilla,
Panted saturation.

Push
harder – harder
good,
Alleging future mutuality.

Blues imbue in green hues,
yours and mine.

“Red is the color of the sun with my eyes closed”
Patent,
not pending.

Historically archived
‘The glowing age’
First Ladies always first.

B is for BEAUTIFUL
E is for Eventual
D is for dumb not to.

(James Morrison sings orange ipod)
‘Til then I’ll wait to see you again in my dreams.’

Resolute annual granuals.

In between darkness and the light.

Good Morning blog land - I know right? I have been so MIA....
I have a myriad excuses, but I won't bore you with those - I barely care about them so I imagine you would feel much the same.
I find myself in a place lately that is less than desirable.
Confused, overwhelmingly contemplative - maybe even a tad depressed. I dare say, maybe all that tinged with a little bit of anger too - not a good place to say the least.
My best friend Mary's dear friend Inge, has suffered a cardiac arrest and has been laying in a coma for over a week. The prognosis is bad, as brain damage seems evident on her scans and questions are swirling about in the minds of those who love her, 'what will she be, if and when she wakes up?'
Inge is not my friend, merely a concern by association, but those of you who know me well, know that even those scenarios are enough to send me into an emotional tale spin. I don't have to be your best friend to have your plight ruin me.
Plus, this situation is hitting incredibly close to home considering the issues I have faced with my Grandparents.
The whole role reversal - child to health care proxy, Granddaughter to advocate, "pumpkin" to life and death decision maker - no fun, honestly, the worst time in my life.
There have been a few years between the adrenaline of living it, which somehow in the moment sustains you and keeps the emotions at bay so that you can function under such pressure - I find, talking to Mary, considering Inge and her children, the space between me and my Nana's stroke, my Grandfather's suffering, has given me time to absorb the emotion and now it is surfacing and I am full of feelings I don't like, not one bit.
My Nana had a massive stroke - she too was in a coma - she too suffered brain damage and paralysis - she lives on....In a state that I never ever want to get to.
In the process of her long deterioration, so many questions arose.
Do we put in a feeding tube, or let her starve?
Would she want that, she is Catholic?
Do we call the priest for last rights?
Do well sell the house?
Do we keep the casserole dishes or donate them to Goodwill?
This part of life sucks - sucks so bad that I allow myself to FEEL the emotions surrounding the events that have long since played out, I cry - always cry - cry to the point that my chest closes and my guts hurt and I rage inside, fight against a role reversal that has forever changed what my Grandparents were, stained my previous memories of them for the rest of my life.
When your Grandfather begs you to help him (meaning kill me) and you cannot release him because it is illegal - me and him at the bowling alley when I was ten, gets pushed back to the recesses of my mind which is instead burned with an image of his desperation - and worst of all, lack of dignity.
I am sad and angry and stressed.
These events (for the time being) are inactive. My Papa died last year and my Nana is in a nursing home in Boston, far from my advocacy - and yet....I am considering these issues for myself, my own future, my own mortality.
I decided long ago, that when I begin to legit decline as an elderly person, I am taking a big ass bottle of pills and chugging it back with a bottle of good patron - going into the big sleep on my terms, never ever chancing my kids having to change my diaper, or feed me pureed food.
But, the scary thing - like with Inge, is that very quickly - illness and injury can steal away that control, negate every living will and leave you in a limbo - out of the clear blue sky.
One day you are fine, the next day - coma.
I hate it. Hate it with all my heart - it frightens me in a way that I cannot articulate, but especially on a work day morning when I am running out of time.
This is one of those situations, that unless you have lived it - cannot understand.
I have lived it - Inge's kids are living it now.
It changes you - changes your perspective, alters your resolve, brings your own death into a clear focus that at my age, serves as a bitter distraction when I need so much, to be productive and present.
I am in a fog - caught between darkness and light - between life and death.
I am miserable.
And....I am taking shitty care of myself and hating myself for it - feeling really angry at me for the lousy ass care, especially in light of all my concerns regarding health.
The sensible me, screams 'take care of yourself Deb, you know exactly how to do it' But the pissed off and sad, unreasonable me counter screams 'well don't bother, you'll drop dead from a heart attack and the kids will never have a choice to suffer through - smoke up!'
There is a battle waging inside of me, it's ugly and is stealing my brain power.
I am basically unplugged from school this semester - sigh
I have written six essays for the writing contest (that I won last year) and don;t know that anyone of them is a winner.
I cannot make it through a paragraph of any of my text books and retain a word, a theme, a meaning.
I'm not doing well - ugh and I am pissed off about it.
I keep making 'new start' commitments - today I am going to do all my homework.
Today I will limit caffeine to two cups. Today I will get up at 5:30 and go for a walk.
Blah blah blah - yadayadayada...
Instead I rub my tired eyes until my eyeballs throb from the friction and sit with my head in my hands, remembering things I don't want to remember and consider things I don't ever want to come to fruition....
This is the hardest thing about aging - losing loved ones that came before you and preparing to leave behind the ones that came after.
sigh.
And now I must leave this comfortable spot at my kitchen table where I could sit all day and write poetry to empty out my angst, but instead I must go to work and pretend to care about clothes and jewelry, read my text book at lunch and live....
Sorry to be a downer - it's just where I am....
Peace.

I'm coming slow but speeding.

Good Morning blog readers and Happy Birthday to me....
I am sitting in my kitchen feeling stiff and old which seems absolutely appropriate on this forty first birthday morn.....
I am not complaining mind you, I have waited for this one for a longgg time. Those of you who read me, or know me well, know that #41 by DMB is my life anthem - this is my my #41 birthday - so yay for making it this far - Look DAVE I did it.
The stiffness and elderly feeling is not just because I am middle aged either - it is because this last week has been quite monumental, to have survived it one piece is a miracle.
My dear friend Rebecca got married and I was in the wedding.
A lot of people are bridesmaids you are thinking - what the big deal is???
Well, when you are a Mom to a zillion kids, a full time college student, have a demanding job, and are in a wedding and expected to partake in all kids of festivities for days and days in a row - well holy shit - big deal.
I think red wine has replaced red blood in my veins. I feel like I may be hung over for all of eternity.
And you know what they say kiddos? - I am not as young as I used to be.
Really, minus the tiredness and the permanent state of pain my petite little feet may be in from my hot ass heels I wore (all day and night long - without taking them off once), I am feeling quite blessed today - have been all week.
Somehow I managed to end up with the very best people in my life as best friends.
And with those best friends, I got the best families as a bonus - so great to be included in precious moments like you are precious to the moment itself.
I was pretty much ecstatic all week long.

My friend Becca began as my hairdresser.
I walked into her shop a million years ago for a cut and ended up with a BFF.
She is priceless to me, one of my many champions - someone that I can always count on, someone that Loves me exactly the way I am and tells me that I should never ever change or compromise who I am.
Funny how hairdressers are the female version of the mans bartender....
I tell her everything.
In whispers below the hummmm of hairdryers - we chat about all the big, important stuff.
And boy, have we been through a lot together.
Our lives always seems to be working in unison - her kids are making her crazy - my kids are making me crazy.
Her life is upside down - my life is upside down.
we are always in it together and for that, I am grateful beyond what I can express here.
Years ago when we were gym rats, we saw each other alllll the time - now that I am in college and she has Ben,
we see each other a lot less and I miss her.
I am so happy for her though, that the time we spent working off out stress at the gym, is now spent laughing and smiling with her man, Ben.
Her Husband Ben :)
Since he came into her life, she has been lit from within and glowing - looks content and happy and settled.
I am so happy for her, I just cannot tell you - so happy.
It helps that I adore her husband too - would it be wrong of me to suggest that he is a male version of me? Well he is....
And I love him for it - he is hilarious and loud and a good guy - a genuinely good guy.
It helps when you love your BFF's hubby - definitely is a good thing.
So... I am tired and the joints are inflamed, but all for a good cause - all for a great time and a beautiful memory I can add to the bank.
It was a perfect weekend, the fact that it is Tuesday and I am still recovering - well that is an indication of the level of perfection I am speaking of.....really fun perfection.
And so....it's my birthday.
Hmmmmmm what to say about that?
Well - I am #41 FINALLY - I feel pretty good about it.
The events of this weekend tell me, I still got it....
Middle aged and still can rock the sexy.
I like that, not giving up on that - gonna be sexy til I croak - watch me.
Middle aged and still can shake my money maker - a dance floor and I, still get it on.
Like that too - never gonna stop dancing either.
Really, I feel pretty darn good for middle aged and in nine years I will be fifty - what what? Wow...
No really I do, I feel pretty good - really happy to be alive and to have made it this far, not complaining one bit about being where I am on the time line - like a cute boy I used to know, used to say - "it's all good."
Yes yes it is.
And with that - I am off to school - crazy - school on my 41st birthday - who would have thunk it?
Peace out peeps and love...

Thank you to my boys from the band, especially to my one true Dave - and to Leroi, for giving my soul sounds a voice with his sax......



Come and see
I swear by now I'm playing time against my troubles
I'm coming slow but speeding
Do you wish a dance and while
I'm in the front
The play on time is won
But the difficulty is coming here
I will go in this way
And find my own way out
I won't tell you to stay
But I'm coming to much more
Me
All at once the ghosts come back
Reeling in you now
What if they came down crushing
Remember when I used to play for
All of the loneliness that nobody
Notices now
I'm begging slow I'm coming here
Only waiting I wanted to stay
I wanted to play,
I wanted to love you
I'm only this far
And only tomorrow leads my way
I'm coming waltzing back and
Moving into your head
Please, I wouldn't pass this by
I wouldn't take any more than
What sort of man goes by
I will bring water
Why won't you ever be glad
It melts into wonder
I came in praying for you
Why won't you run
In the rain and play
Let the tears splash all over you

wash your mouth out with soap.

Good Morning Blog readers...
Can I just say that the school bus arriving at any street corner at 7am is just too f'ing early? My poor kids - zombies, every damn day no matter what we do to make the morning smoother. We all fall completely apart - melt down - chaos - teeth not brushed nearly long enough ugh - damn the school year - I WANT SUMMER.
Okay now that I got that out of the way - to rant....
Last night before bed, with one eye on NOVA (about King Solomons mines - really cool) and the other eye on the computer, I attempted to write a letter to the editors of the Cville and the Hook (for those of you not from VA - those are our local free newspapers)
and having said that, I probably should send one off to the Daily Progress too - but I sideline.....
I am pissed off about the going's on, on my beloved downtown mall and have had it, literally - like head explosion imminent if something does not change and ASAP.
See the thing is this - I have worked on the mall for fourteen years - is anyone can lend perspective I believe it's me - although I have not been there long enough to be considered "historic" like the mall and the buildings - 14 years is some kinda time to spend in one location.
I have seen a ton of changes - a ton.
What I am so pissed off about, is the behavior of those who have made the mall their place to squat. I have real issues with this.
And keep in mind that I am not really so judgmental - I have a lot of sympathy for those down on their luck.
I am not even necessarily speaking to the homeless or the pan handlers either - mostly I am talking about the assholes who sit around all day running their pie holes at volumes that surely violate the noise ordinances each and every time they open their mouths.
Oh and is downtown Cville our version of Los Angeles? Cause it sure looks to me like there is some gang activity going on....?
Oh and I would be remiss not to mention the drug dealing that goes on in front of Christians - the cars that slow down, roll windows and exchange money and hhhmm other stuff as they peruse through, well they couldn't be more obvious.
But really what I am most upset about, is the atmospheric change - I remember a time when I would not think twice about eating an expensive meal on an outdoor patio - or taking my kids to chaps for an ice cream.
I still will, but now I think twice about it -
wondering, what disruption will there be? what foul language or behavior will I have to witness and worst yet, what about the kiddos?
Will they hear "Motherfucker" repetitively? Probably so.
Grrrr it makes me mad as hell.
In my letter - I recounted a story from my own life - I will give it to you here in short.
I was saying good morning to Mike and Jada (a homeless man and his dog) - he asked me for prayers as he was interviewing for a job that afternoon. We hugged and i said "of course" - then, a young man standing nearby asked me to pray for him too.
"okay whatchya need?"
"I need a job and to get out of the halfway house I am in"
Okay - add that to my list and on my way to open my shop.
About two hours later the same young man was on a patio in front of my store screaming his head off at his girlfriend.
There were all kinds of "Bitches, Assholes, Fuck you's and the mall fav, mother fuckers" spewing from both their mouths.
I was startled to say the least and went to the door to see what in the hell was going on.
Before I knew it - a high back iron bar stool got kicked across the patio and I heard all about how he was a low down cheating bastard and she was a lazy bitch.
I was so mad my head nearly came off - an older more mature type customer from out of town asked me,
"Am I safe here in Charlottesville?"
WOW really....
Thanks you losers for scaring away our out of town visitors - our paying customers - our livelihood and my job security as the country suffers through a recession.
THANKS FOR NOTHING.
Later that afternoon I ran up the mall to my other store on an errand - the same young man with the mouth and a prayer asked me casually - playfully - you pray for me yet?
I stopped in my tracks and thought - well, here is my opportunity to make a difference.
My response was this (not verbatim obviously but the gist)
"Look around you"
Pause look of confusion on his face.
"No really, look around you"
I motioned to behind him with my head - towards a child maybe three - looking in the window of the toy store about two feet from him.
"You think that child needs to hear your disgusting potty mouth?"
Blank expression - turns to shock....
"Because I don't think he does - I don't think that is fair to him or his parents"
Shock turns to guilt.
"thing is, maybe you need less prayers and more self contemplation - maybe you need to think about putting out into the world what you want to get back. You want a job? Well then don't ruin my business by running your mouth with vulgarity that drives customers right off the mall and ruins local economy, there won't be any jobs if you keep it up - you want good luck to come your way? How about some behavior that earns you that payback - you need to stop and think about you and what you put out in relation to what you get back."
I was mad and said it all (way more than that) in my angry Mother voice.
He looked truly afraid.
So yeah, how about them apples???
Everyday of late it is the same on the mall
"MOTHERFUCKER THIS MOTHERFUCKER THAT"
Do these people not see the kids???
Not see the elderly???
Not see that there are people around that don't enjoy being exposed to the gutter?
I have had it.
Pretty quick I am going to start using my Mother voice on all of them - thing is....
I am kinda afraid and that is new for me - I have never felt afraid on the mall.
And don't get me wrong - I don't mean like walking to Eppie's - I mean if I were to challenge one of these assholes, was to speak out, I feel as though I COULD pay a price.
Not happy, not happy in the least.
What the hell is happening to our world that people have so little respect???
I find it appalling - am I alone in this?
I want my mall back.
I want respect back.
Values are lost, ugh...

slow dancing in a burning life.

Go cry about it why don't you?
well at least I cry,
you taunting asshole.
Its not just the room or the dance that burns so hot, I say.
You laugh smugly.
It is this life, I scream.
a slow burn,
a rapid one,
a backdraft which will blow you the fuck over when you least expect it.
One whatever day,
in a whatever moment,
you will go to open the door to wherever
and Bam - thrashing flames, you'll be burnt all up,
left nothing but a glowing ember barely holding onto the light.
AHHHHHHHHH I scream.
Is it so hard for you to see?
And why is that?
Why do some of us see the dance card needs to be full - fill it,
do the cha cha
dance the waltz
tango for Christ's sake,
this life is slow burning and there is no way out you dumb fuck,
so dance.
You're a bitch because you can,
but really because you can't.
I am the only light you ever saw.
Dark like ashes,
flaky wet amidst the rubble,
damp from the rescue squad.
Don't for a second think,
I won't pick it up,
smudge it under my eyes like war paint,
and dance the ritual dance.
Because I will,
and I will cry about it.
Long after your silence has quieted.
I will hear my music,
slow dance in my own burning room,
do it sultry with dark weeping eyes,
and laughter.