September 30 2013

Curious Flowers

What If

What if we stood now

On an empty stage

In the silhouette of a former fame

In a theater long vacated,

What if this life were naught

But the echo

Of a former incarnation

And those that passed

Had simply recognized the farce

Do I stand now on the precipice

Between two worlds?

A ghost at twilight mourning?

*

What if this life were training

For an interstellar war?

What if I suffered now

That I might later serve

Some heroic purpose?

What then would be the reward

Or would it exist solely

In the eminence of my deeds?

Why must we receive

In order to do that

Which is natural to our hearts?

Is love not its own reward?

*

What if there was a heaven

In which only

The most curious flowers

Bloomed

Would I find shelter

In such a curious garden?

Or am I ash…

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Imperishable

I came into this world scarred

Impressions copied from a hostile womb

A child knows when they are unwanted

When love is continuously withheld

For lack of compensation

*

I came into this world impoverished

My parents were beggars

They wanted only

For their immediate needs

I wasn’t a priority

Was it a conscious neglect?

A premeditated omission?

Or had I ceased ever to be?

*

I came into this world fully armored

A nuisance in times of truce

An adversary in times of war

The salt of accumulated miseries

Left me parched, inhospitable furrows

Lined the seams of both mind and heart

There was no time for poetry or dreams

No well in which to nourish a muse

I was too busy sewing shadows

Into the soles of my shoes

I wanted to be imperceptible

Imperishable like darkness

Growing Pains

Every lesson I’ve learned

Has come with expenditure

I’ve eaten

Of sorrow’s lurid fruits

I’ve wiped sweat and tears

From a shadow-woven visage

I’ve suffered

And in the nucleus of strife softened

I’ve worn the faces

Of countless women

And the shoes of fellow drifters

I’ve faced both mirror and metronome

With a resolve to live and become

I’ve wasted and cherished

Chased laughter through open fields

Loved as if gripped by contagion

Sinned and served

Morals for which no law

Need profess and for which no law

Could deter if I determined

The deed in circumstance just

For I have the sense to know

Without threat or damnation

The ethos which governs my soul

I know that rebellion is essential

When governing bodies oppress

That true peace conceals

Neither arsenal nor agenda

I have failed

Despite endeavor

And in failing

Surpassed limiting contractions

Like can’t and won’t

I have survived

With the inconsolable notion

That survival

Is not enough

I have struggled forward

Knees, elbows, nail beds

Unclean

Every triumph

No matter how infinitesimal

Stacked on a foundation

Which I have built

Prompt 23 Anais Nin Quotes

This weeks challenge is quotes by Anais Nin. I will offer five here but you are welcome to use others. Please specify either in the comments section below or somewhere in your post which quote(s) you used for inspiration. The quote can be a part of your piece or strictly the inspiration. As always you are free to submit multiple entries and as always you are free to express yourself in whatever method(s) you prefer. There is no length restriction on entries and I will read your entry no matter the length but I cannot guarantee that every participant will do so. That said I do ask that you read and comment on as many entries as possible. If you want to use multiple quotes that is perfectly fine. If you want to do a tribute piece to Anais Nin by all means free. You do not have to do a tribute piece and in fact do not have to mention her name anywhere in your piece aside from giving credit to her in your chosen quote(s). I do not censor and I do not ask that you censor your work but always make a note about rating or content if you feel it necessary.

On to the quotes

1

“Each friend represents a world in us, a world not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.”

2

“I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naive or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman.”

3

“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”

4

“Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.”

5

“There are very few human beings who receive the truth, complete and staggering, by instant illumination. Most of them acquire it fragment by fragment, on a small scale, by successive developments, cellularly, like a laborious mosaic.”

Diary Entry September 27 2013

Mute. Vulnerable Given to collapse. My heart lies diminished. Having peeled back too many scars, too many layers I am raw, besmirched, and not yet itchy. There is no comfort in expectation. In the opposition of neurons corrosively overburdened. I think too much. I succumb too easily to lawless sleep. To anti-realities and dissociations. Hours pass more quickly than minutes. Minutes are impatient. Minutes add up but hours reduce. It’s a long time waiting for the sun to drop. Waiting for my responsibilities to undress and settle serenely into the arms of a generous lover.

*

I am exhausted. Minutiae are threatening mutiny. I scurry, kaleidoscopic, through rooms on the verge of collapse. The Gilings are on the rise. I’ve arrested the latest pathogen  and all I really want is to lie on the sofa with a swatch of velvet thrown over my icy limbs. I want to dream, idle dreams, that require neither compliance nor consummation.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————–

Gilings just means dust but it sounds like some type of creature doesn’t it? I am emotionally and physically exhausted and yep I am getting sick. Also I want people to write letters real pen to paper letters. I keep telling myself I will write letters but to whom? My hand-writing is atrocious and I’d drive myself crazy worrying about it. I wouldn’t even have very much in the way of concrete things to say. Maybe I should write post cards lol I absolutely love post cards.

Diary Entry September 26, 2013

Today I am fuchsia. Appalling and implicit like dried blood. My hopes are theatrical and metaphysical. They rise like wildfire. Spontaneous. Devastating. Essential. Today I spoke of my childhood, about what it means to grow up in a world governed by pathogens. Today I spoke of survival. Of breaths furiously drawn and tenaciously held. Of a life where silence kills. Of a life where silence is the only means of survival. I spoke of a protracted suicide played out meticulously in the bowels of a wounded psyche. Today I found the strength to express my incarnation of the Devil.

*

I have survived, an Ouroboros. Needs unheeded and unmet, I existed at my own expense. Sometimes I wonder if there is anyone left inside of me? But in my heart I know that I am inexhaustible. Tenacious. A weed. Greeting the sun somewhere between concrete and infinity. No man of flesh and blood has ever scared me quite so much as myself. What potentiality nests inside these tainted genes? What demons lie in opposition to my sanity? The quintessential soldier who endures because an ill-timed exhalation is synonymous with treason. I know how to survive. My defenses are honed and well-articulated.

*

Living is imperative. A gift long unopened for fear of termination and now here I sit with a box full of unspoiled minutes uncertain of the worth of my tentative schemes. What does it mean to be alive? To be human? What does it mean to forgive oneself? When that self has grown so accustomed to guilt? I am not strong, these confessions, for which my survival now depends are the means by which I withdraw the venom. Left to fester I would die from within, every hollow exponentially expanding, every teardrop, a vestigial sea intent to swallow.

Envy

Cesar Santos “The Moth and the Lamp”

A butterfly born

Likewise in eclipse

May

With the morning rise

Why can’t I taste

With impunity

The same pride?

*

In shadows a beauty

Unseen and misaligned

Lachrymose

These jaundiced eyes drip

Do not speak

Of instinct

As if delirium

If I am mad

Then upon

My breath I vow

That you

Suffer decorously

But suffer

Nonetheless

*

Why must I abide

In darkness?

An anathema

This rivalry

This bias

That forbids

Fruition

*

Say that you

Do not understand me

For are we not all

To some archetype

Enslaved?

Do we not all

Seek that which we

Perceive deficient?

*

For Magpie Tales

10 Blogs You Should Check Out

This list is not all inclusive! My intention is to do this periodically as a way of showcasing blogs that I love =) If your name isn’t on this list it doesn’t mean that I don’t love you or that your name won’t appear on a future list.  I did not limit my selection to other wordpress sites.

In no particular order

1. who could know then

http://whocouldknowthen.wordpress.com/

2. Warning The Stars

http://warningthestars.blogspot.se/

3. Lisa A. Williams

http://law-poetry.blogspot.se/

4. Reowr

http://reowr.wordpress.com/

5.  Tarnation and Eudemonia

http://beijomacio.wordpress.com/

6. Color me in Cyanide and Cherries

http://olorielmoonshadow.wordpress.com/

7. B.G. Bowers

http://bgbowers.com/

8. Elia Bintang

http://eliabintang.me/

9. Helen Valentina

http://helenvalentina.com/

10. Arkadia

http://maryazilberberg.wordpress.com/

She Sings?!! (howls?)

Before the horrible singing I have 2 poems just so you have something encase you dare not listen to my singing or do listen and need consoling and you will need consoling so please have something pleasing for yourself prepared afterwards. The singing is part of my do something out your comfort zone week of tortures ahem fun.  Singing in range of others is WAY out of my comfort zone! As a child in school plays I was always told to lipsinc, yep it is that bad.

Hunger

I’ve tasted hunger

The avarice of your mouth

Pirating my breath

Failure

Through your vacancy

My failure is imparted

These poems are yours

Authored under confinement

Soaked with aqueous humors

*

At your own risk! You can thank Nessa for this as I was inspired by her courage. I have always loved singing but alas it was never meant to be. I had a lot of ear infections as a child and thus I have a lot of scar tissue. Unfortunately I have trouble hearing mid range sounds. I can hear high frequencies decently and low frequencies the best. I often try to sing low because I can hear it but I don’t have a low voice so that right there is a problem lol The bad hearing is an issue in and of itself. I sound something like a cat whose been trapped inside of a washing  machine with a coyote. My voice is all over the place, it is very bizarre, disturbing, painful kind of voice. My speaking voice is fine but the moment I start singing it is spontaneous puberty. I have warned you on the upside after you listen to this you will feel like a rockstar in comparison =)

http://vocaroo.com/i/s0ZRESIf1CCs

Bully

Moths know the rapture

Of which I speak

The fixation

On an unattainable aesthete

She was above penance,

An insatiable tease

I fell upon her edicts,

Servile, naive

*

I understood

Humiliation,

It did not offend me

I wanted to expand

My isolating margins

To belong,

Even at the risk

Of acquiring a new self

I did not want

To become cruel

To become consumptive

In a defenseless rage

I avoided confrontation

By asserting humanity

In those hearts

Most craven

Good surely exists

The default

In us all

*

She coerced me into attendance

I took great pains

In preparation for the dance

Ecstatic and delusional

I miscalculated her savagery

A coven of histrionic harpies

Subdued me

My deepest insecurities

Slipping from greasy lips

Once presumed

Guileless

I understood humiliation

That night

It defined me

*

I hid in my room

Under the guise of illness

My mother was indulgent

But she was not deceived

*

It occurred to me

That my nemesis

Was just a little girl

Same as I

A hurting, vicious little girl

The external component

Of my internal war

I returned to school

Sat beside her as before

My life was not hers

To lead,

I moved forward

And lost track of her

Entirely

=

When I was in 4^th grade I was being bullied by a girl in my class. The bullying didn’t bother me that much because as you know my social skills are very poor so I was incapable of fully understanding the situation. I knew she wasn’t nice but I saw no reason to be mean to her and in truth I was intrigued by her because she was my opposite in so many ways. When the school dance came around she invited me and I went. I brought another friend and we dressed up. I thought I looked quite nice and I was very excited (I was hoping a boy would ask me to dance). As soon as I arrived I was swarmed by a group of girls (she was the ring leader) and they started making fun of me. That was the first time she really hurt me, all the other petty stuff hadn’t bothered me too much. I stayed out of school for several days and my mom didn’t have the heart to force me because she saw how hurt I was. After my realization I felt much better. I went to school and when she realized she couldn’t get to me she left me alone or she didn’t but if she didn’t I didn’t notice anymore. After that if people teased me we would just end up joking and on friendly terms. I found out that I am actually pretty good at disarming people.

Okay now for different part of today’s post

My Advice: Don’t let another person define you

My solution/suggestion: This is not comprehensive and it is naive keep in mind I spend 95% of my time in my own world lol

Every school should have mandatory classes on communication and conflict resolution. In college my major required me to take such a course and it was absolutely invaluable, probably the most relevant course I have ever taken. Communication is essential in all areas of life, listening is part of communication, learning to express your feelings in a healthy way is part of communication.

There are two types of people (generally) those who internalize their feelings and turn their negative emotions inward and those who externalize their feelings and lash out at others. Both types can have difficulty expressing themselves in a healthy manner. All human beings have a fundamental need to express themselves. Children especially can lack the ability to communicate complex feelings. I have a  5 year old daughter and I have found that just punishing her does not work. When she acts out it is often a result of stress or emotional struggles. While it takes time talking to her and asking her questions and giving her an opportunity to vent works wonders. After a good talk her behavior improves dramatically and she isn’t just behaving for fear of punishment, she is behaving because she feels good inside. There is a huge difference!!!!!! There are times when punishment is necessary of course but punishment without conversation is ineffective. Positive reinforcement is much more effective than punishment. Rarely do we acknowledge our children’s good behaviors both teachers and parents should be more mindful in that respect.

Speaking of outlets physical exercise is a healthy way of dealing with stress (PE should be fun and safe not violent and competitive the way I recall it). I also think art classes and creative writing are great ways for kids to express themselves. We need to talk more to our kids and if teachers to our students. All to often we get in this mind frame I am the adult what you have to say is not as important. We often think of children as fickle and so we think their feelings aren’t real. Their feelings are REAL and IMPORTANT!

Kids caught bullying should have to spend time with the school counselor I don’t mean just for a few minutes but for a couple of sessions. If at that time the counselor decides additional therapy is necessary the school needs to help with the arrangements or have a psychologist on staff to help children who may not have the financial resources for outside counseling. If during the counseling session abuse is suspected then the parents of the child need to be evaluated.

Teachers caught bullying and discriminating against a students based on race, sexuality, athletic prowess, academic performance, religion etc. should also have to undergo counseling and they should be punished. If the problem persists they need to be fired because it is completely unacceptable (depending on severity and if there was physical assault involved they may need to be fired right away). Likewise teachers who tolerate or encourage bullying in their classrooms should have to undergo counseling. Teachers will also be required to have communication courses and attend workshops.

Bullying should NOT be ignored and it should be talked about!

Well that is just some of my ideas on the subject.