Saturday, March 31, 2012

My Voice

My Voice
I have been hiding
It is crying to be heard
Pained
Sorrow
Grief
And yet there’s still Joy.
My voice
I want it to be heard
I want to be respected
I want to be understood
I want to make a difference.
I can’t make a difference
If all I do is manipulate
Other people’s words.
What I have to say is important
I don’t want to be invisible anymore.
My voice
My thoughts
My opinions
I want to be heard
What I say matters
Don’t keep stepping on my toes
Don’t keep shutting me out
Don’t keep telling me lies.
Your voice counts too
If only you were honest with yourself
Your voice and my voice
Are loud angry silent
We just can’t hear each other
I don’t understand why?
It could be different
But you don’t want to try
All you do is stifle
What I have to say
Misconstrue my words
Mock my opinions
And say they are unimportant
But your indifference is volatile
(flames, vengeance, hot, back up, get away, it is just survival now)
And I only lose my voice
And you in the same.
My voice doesn’t matter because
It can’t be distinguished through the flames
The heat has cooled
Comfort swells
Through the pain
Once again I am
My own.
I too can feel again
I can almost speak
Again
Will any one care?
I need to raise my voice
To find out
I regain my breath
I am standing up tall
My voice is amazing
Heard from the mountain tops
And still I don’t fall.
Ringing across the plains
The Empire State Building is my trophy
And still I don’t fall.

Dandelion

My children loved Lisa Atkinson’s Tickle the Fish album. We first had it as a cassette tape and then later bought it as a CD. My girls have long since grown up and they still enjoy listening to the CD. I, recently, had to retrieve it from them. I would listen to Tickle the Fish many times over when I was feeling defeated by life. Lisa’s uplifting songs brought me back from many a dreary day. One song in particular, “Dandelion”, I would listen to over and over again. “They’re as special as you and me.” Lisa had the ability to look at life through a child’s eyes simplifying it and making it still worth living.
So on this fateful day, early in the morning, I noticed a dandelion on the lawn. I rejoiced, feeling it was just for me. Later in the day, the seeds had blown away. “Awwh,” I thought, “They’re gone already.” But really the seeds went off to grow and multiply. That evening, I found out from a friend that Lisa had died earlier in the year. It was like the dandelion told me. Like the dandelion seeds spreading everywhere, Lisa spread joy through her singing which grew and multiplied.
Sometime later, amid yet another crisis, I was walking around my neighborhood in the middle of the night trying to sort things out. When I finally returned home, there on the corner of the grass was a single dandelion. As I cried, I looked up to the sky and said, “Thank you Lisa,” I now could go back inside for some much needed sleep.
The next morning the dandelion was still there standing strong. My problems weren’t solved, but with the affirmation of the strength of the dandelion, I knew I could be strong and carry on and embrace life as it should be full of dandelions….“They’re as special as you and me.”

The Art of Being Positive

I think I lost my happy attitude
I used to be such a positive person
Don’t worry, be happy
Isn’t what it is cut out to be
What they say is to surround yourself
Around positive people
So what if the people bringing you down
Are your family?
I think I lost my happy attitude
Oh where, oh where can it be?
Trying to think positive
I think I can, I think I can
Look always on the bright side of things
It’s a happy day
Well, I’m working on it
Happy to be standing on my two feet
Sound positive like a Kaiser commercial
Live, Thrive
Still trying to think positive
My mind is drawing a blank
It’s a happy day, again
Sonrisa en Espanol
Smile, you’re on Candid Camera
I’m sure it will work out
Every problem has a silver lining
When one door closes, a window opens
Something good comes about when bad things happen
Remember the great positive thinkers
Norman Vincent Peale and Pollyanna
I think I’ve found what I’m looking for
Like McDonald’s, “I’m loving it!”

Legacy

I don’t want to leave anything behind when I leave
Leave the earth, leave this world
There are many things I never captured along the way
Those I can’t leave behind
I only wish to leave memories of the love
I gave to my children, my grandchildren yet to be
I feel for my daughters having to sort through
My precious things
Who wants what
Or nothing al all
They’ll find my journals of what I was
Alone in my writing
To be read
Or just tossed away
Words left meaningless on paper
They only mattered to me as I wrote them
As a rule I never re-read my journals
They are private moments that at times
Sprung stories, poems and plays
Many words were of loss and frustration
Did I capture my happiness? My gratitude?
Though I write to remember later
Where I was when I was what I wrote
I never go back to find out why
I only move forward to each new day
Every new beginning not to a journey’s end

Monday, March 26, 2012

Song- The Shopping Cart Blues

Oh woah, oh woah, the poor ole shopping cart
Oh woah, oh woah, the lonely shopping cart
There’s one, there’s one
There is another
There’s one, there’s one
There is another
Red, green, yellow, white
How do you keep them out of site?
Oh woah, oh woah, the poor ole shopping cart
Oh woah, oh woah, the lonely shopping cart
Always to be found
The landscape changes when there’re around
Oh woah, oh woah, the poor ole shopping cart
Oh woah, oh woah, the lonely shopping cart
Why do I care?
They are every where to be seen
What makes me a shopping cart?
I always knew it from the start.
I am lost and lonely just like them
Abandoned and no place to belong
Discarded from my homing place
Oh woah, oh woah, the poor ole shopping cart
Oh woah, oh woah, the lonely shopping cart

Friday, March 23, 2012

Monday's Limerick

Vanessa's Limerick

There was a fine girl named Vanessa
Who went to the black and white ball with Contessa
Everyone got up to dance
They started to prance
And she ripped a big hole in her dressa

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Famous Drinks, Chatter #423

Have you ever noticed there are drinks named after famous people? The ones I’m most familiar with are the Roy Rogers with coca cola, grenadine syrup and a cherry, the Shirley Temple with seven-up, grenadine syrup and, also, with a cherry, and the Arnold Palmer with tea and lemonade. The Arnold Palmer used to be called the half and half. Around the golf clubs, it became known as the Arnold Palmer because he drank it all the time and the name stuck. One day at a self-service drink bar I mixed lemonade with ice tea. I liked it, so I started ordering it at restaurants. One day the waiter said, “An Arnold Palmer.” I said, “A what?” He said, “They call it an Arnold Palmer.” So I’ve been ordering it since and the waiters know what I’m talking about.
When I was married my husband didn’t drink the Arnold Palmer and neither did I. When joining him for lunch years after we were divorced, I discovered we were both drinking Arnold Palmers. I thought it was curious that now we both liked the same drink.
It is interesting that Roy Rogers and Shirley Temple didn’t care for the drinks named after them. I liked seven-up better than coca cola, so when I was a kid, I enjoyed ordering Shirley Temple’s because they were so sweet and they made me feel grown up drinking a mixed drink The cherry added to the all grown up feeling. Funny that the drink that made me feel grown up was named after a child actress.

Sunday, March 18, 2012

My Sunday Morning Poem

Always looking
Always watching
Nothing escapes me
See the dog hanging out
Look there’s more
Looks like people talking to themselves
Or talking to their laptops
A baby strolling in a carriage
A loving warm embrace
Including a dog in a friendly hello
Hear foul mouth talk
And the grumbling motorcycle
Shuffling feet break my concentration
Cars passing sound like the surf
With its ebbs and flows
A whiff of coffee awakens my nose
The air feels crisp and fresh
The sun filtered in through a haze
Lots of people come and go
I like the constant movement
All this on a lazy Sunday morning
It brings soothing comfort
A huge sigh like I had been holding my breath

Thursday, March 15, 2012

The Cell Phone

My cell phone “fell off the cabbage truck.” At least that is what my mother used to say when something just showed up. Where? We never knew. It just showed up. I actually believed her. I could visualize the truck rumbling down the highway and something falling. This time an iPhone for me.
I feel kind of embarrassed that I have a smart phone either way on the spectrum.
For my friends who still have a flip phone, I am embarrassed that I have a much more expensive phone. I apologize and say it was given to me by my daughter. Where she got it, I wasn’t sure why or how? Thus, it fell off the cabbage truck. I was embarrassed that it made me look richer than them “It is really nothing,” I would explain away my good fortune.
For my other friends who have the latest version of the android, blackberry or iPhone, I am embarrassed because mine is so slow and doesn’t have the newest features. Again it fell off the cabbage truck. So you take what you can get. I worry that they’ll think less of me because I’m not on the tech fast track.
Why am I so concerned with “keeping up with the Jones?” I don’t know.
That was something else my mom used to say.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

How Do You Slip on a Banana Peel Gracefully?

Have you ever slipped on a banana peel and fallen on your ass, said a minimum of three cuss words, and, perhaps, even broken a tailbone? Have you seen someone else slip on a banana peel and laughed your ass off until you realized they were hurt? Don’t worry. You are not an asshole for laughing. It is human instinct to react so thoughtlessly. I had to learn this in graduate school. Well, falling is funny. Have you ever seen Charlie Chaplin slip on a banana peel? My business card says, “I fall down for a living.” There is no joke about it. My most dramatic falls have been on stage or in a theater which has netted me a broken arm, a blown out knee, and, yes, a broken funny bone. The first time I shared my MS story on stage, I purposely tripped and dropped my walking stick. This stuff really happens to me and I wanted to show on stage what has become routine in my life. Well, my open mic friends didn’t know I had MS and were overly sympathetic. I started laughing. “It is all part of the shtick. Haven’t you seen Steve Martin fall?” I thought they were going to hit me. I am sure they felt manipulated. They have since forgiven me and let me back up on stage.
My favorite true falling joke: What goes bumpity, bump, shit? Mother falling down the stairs. When I told Jon, he laughed his ass off. Thanks Jon!
So how do you fall gracefully? You don't. The recovery is what is important. How quick can you get back up and save face? Sandra Bullock shows this well in the movie Miss Congeniality. “Okay, I’m up.” Sometimes, it is not so quick. Often, a bruised ego hurts more than the broken bone. When I fell in the theater, the students laughed. I am glad it was dark, so they couldn’t see my red face. That was the problem. Note to self: Don’t walk around in a dark theater. You never know what goes bump in the night. ME!
The ego can take longer to heal than the bone. OUCH! This is a new acronym I heard. LMF- Love My Faults. Learning to love oneself is a life long lesson. I had to learn how to forgive myself for my vulnerabilities, physically and emotionally and be gentle with myself. I had to learn how to trust again that the ground would rise up to meet me when I take that next step. My wish for you: The next time you put a smile on someone else’s face will be because you smiled first. By the way, I have forgiven Jon for LHAO and let him buy me a margarita. Salud!
More chatter…
I still walk around in the dark. I love it and have done it since I was a kid living in a creaky house.
My other true falling down joke: How many Mexicans does it take to change the battery on a smoke detector? Two. One to climb the ladder and get electrocuted and fall off the ladder, and the other one to call 911. Glad my daughter is an EMT. In case you didn’t figure it out, I am the Mexican in the joke.
This story is dedicated to Jon who has had his share of banana peels.

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Our Destination

Our destination is fixed on the perpetual motion of search
Fixed
Fixed
Fixed
Motion
Motion
Motion
Do the two go hand in hand?
Is it about stops and starts?
Is it about two roads to take?
Questions
Always questions
I write about
More knowledge
Other people’s thoughts
Other people’s words
Share them with me
I want to know more
Where does that land?
Did I meet my destination?
Or somewhere in between?
It is not a beach or a harbor
It is not a place within my head or heart
Maybe it is a place inside the two
The destination is where I am not
But I always keep moving
Where do the roots grow and take place?
Can we blossom in shallow land?
More like a butterfly going to and thro
More like a flitting bee searching every flower
The humming bird with its gentle whirl
How about a stone set in sand?
It withstands the movement of the waves
It is solid while the world swirls around it
It is fixed and motion

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

The Memory of a Kiss

The memory of a kiss
More perfunctory in a hello or goodbye
Expected
Without meaning
Many of those I have given away
Even the sloppy kiss on the lips from
The guy at the bar
A greeting only
No romance
Romantic is a little more fun
Near the water
Sparkling lights across the bay
In a dashing silver bullet Porsche
Yes, more fun
Higher expectations

Monday, March 5, 2012

Old Habit

So what's my old habit? I went back in time and remembered I took what wasn't mine. Everyone else did, so I thought it was okay. I was working at a drug store and decided to take a pack of cigarettes and smoke them. The pack lasted a whole month and by the time I got to the last one it was pretty stale. I then decided not to continue smoking, thus, I saved myself from picking up an old habit.

Friday, March 2, 2012

Kleinfeld's

Kleinfeld's, to Kleinfeld's we went to buy a wedding dress. To buy a wedding dress, you say? Yes, a wedding dress we bought. They were so fluffy and beaded and yards and yards of lace. It was hard to choose. At one point there were two brides wearing the same dress. Cute as a picture, but no photographs allowed. Many Kodak moments, but it is only the memories that were captured buying a wedding dress that we will hold dear.