If I broke the bubbles in the bath with a sledgehammer , I thought myself a murderer.
When I break my own heart, I feel like a loser in the gutters of East Toronto. What is the difference between smashing up other peoples lives instead of your own? What makes guilt fight conscience? What makes you live so poorly so intentionally unpotentially? You know there is more out there for you then sucking bubbles down your throat trying to drown your sorrows, as if air could do that anyways.
Posted in Choices, Happiness, Journal, life, Living, love, me, Pain, People Tagged always, growth, human, life, living, love, person
The sun is just around the curve; whispering this to you, The Sky. Back lit and caressing all that is seen, with a strong subtlety of grey purple. The world is still quiet here pyjama shuffling slipper feet, and I smile. Today is choices and availability to do and to be purposeful, just the way The Grey Purple of the Sky- the chance at another Day, tells me to be.
Posted in Choices, Creation, Happiness, Journal, life, personal, Poetic Tagged dawn, earth, life, living, ontario, silence, sky, world
Like cat or baby sitting on our lap, and how often we have to pee or grab the kettle but we share that moment with our heart and our head and we sit still. We don’t get up because to disturb the beauty would be oh so unsatisfying.
Posted in Creation, Happiness, Journal, life, Living, me, Motherhood, People Tagged calm, happy, leaving it be, life, living, love, moment, people, stillness
do you ever feel crazy? Like you’re a living condition of clear and of dizzy? You’re that walking Motherboard of all your own thoughts and service and that you aren’t always living with what you’d call purpose. Drifting in the luxuries of ignorance and time a royal game of powder glam and you’re just in the corner making strawberry jam.
Posted in Choices, Creation, Happiness, Journal, life, Living, me, People, personal, writing Tagged crazy, life, living, words
What a wild we are.
my heart parts all wisdom whacked. how in this world
are we supposed to be apart?
how in any other
are we not to survive ?
Posted in Dating, Happiness, Journal, life, Living, love, Pain, Relationship, Relationships Tagged choice, dating, desire, happiness, love, relationship, relationships, you
You’ll feel scared but you won’t express it. Because you haven’t thought it over to understand why you’re scared.
And when you figure out why,
you won’t express it
because now you have figured it out
you are not scared.
Posted in Happiness, Journal, life, Living, People, Relationships Tagged communicating, dating, expressing, fear, feeling, friends, people, silent, understanding
Tell the ones in the hills,
in the far across mountainous range. The sky is flat here, and flat ribbons across the blue clouds of fury and a calm and of silk.
These are the days the sun waits for
pounces on a puff and gets taken away. She doesn’t have to drive, just take the ride watch everything float away.
Posted in Choices, Creation, Happiness, Journal, life, Living, Poetic Tagged high, life, living, me, person, Poetic
“Can you wind message me?”
he asked, with pre-drip eyes. I was leaving, he knew at the next sunrise.
I smiled so softly
even teddy bears would be proud, as I blundered on a “yes “, a “for sure “; to him this I vowed.
And so I would kiss the air
every evening and day, wipe my miss tears on feathers “I love you “ I‘d say.
to have the leaves wiggle back, a grin on my cheekbones, two feet on one track.
It wasn’t long after,
when the journey was done, he smiled a thank you “for the whispers “ dear Mom.
Posted in Choices, Creation, Happiness, Journal, life, Living, love, Motherhood, Poem, Poetic, Relationship Tagged love, mother, poem, Poetic, son
And I’m sitting in a couch chair and my feet don’t touch the floor cause I’m all the way back in it, and I feel like I’m all of 13 and a half age years oldyoung.
Posted in Creation, Happiness, Journal, life, Living, me Tagged adult, life, living, old, silly, young
Candy coated sugar kings,
we tell ourselves our own jokes by looking in the mirror. Would I rather be tin man and rust, instead of feeling these highs and lows? Maybe I just sit on my gold chair alittle longer each time, waiting out the anticipation of falling into mud again. Is happiness more for the good people?
Posted in Ache, Choices, Creation, Happiness, Journal, life, Living, me, Motherhood, Pain, Stability Tagged happiness, highs and lows, jokes, life, living, sadness