Concrete Towers

War’d weathered feet, come stomping sideways up the green cliffs.
We didn’t think to find the solemn giggles here.
The cave puffs’ it’s ignorance, so shallow in the cove.
The flighted breath under canopy , from clouds to the throne.
Sweet dragon roll momentum, the blue plate something to peer for.
Royalist ground pepper fits underneath the sticks; so humble to be tuned.
Dialed with crumb fingers and dry mouth, the worth beaming from concrete towers.

For You

I’d break open each pistachio in the whole bag for you.
I’d crack open your 11 cans of beer, I’d,
I’d travel 73 blocks to grab you your favourite Thursday night chew.

I’d rub your back and your feet any night of the week.
You see, I would care for you in such a way, that I would believe it.

You Don’t Have To Know What You Want

It’s okay to not know what you want.
You may be under the impression that you are supposed to know. That knowing will make your life feel like it has some sense. That you have direction and a focus, a purpose.
And since all of the above is true when we really do know what we want, I think sometimes we fake it. We choose something that is similar, something that is more obtainable to us then the real thing. We want for the wrong reasons.
Sometimes we may even begin to believe that it is what we want.

That gets scary. And weird. Your whole being is off and you may find you are more unhappy then not. Maybe it is more subtle then that and you feel uneasy or hesitant to make decisions. Maybe you stress over conversations you’ve had in the day or are uptight about how you can’t crack an egg properly for the lives of you and your house mates.

Sometimes pulling a few minutes from your closet and sitting with just that and your heart, you’ll find it’s telling you something. Sometimes it’s things we don’t want to hear. It may be difficult to admit that you’re not really chasing what you want but more the idea of it or so someone else doesn’t get it.

It is better to conclude you really are uncertain about what you want in life -or on a smaller scale, situations -then it is to push on in a direction that isn’t reflecting your heart.
It won’t work that way.
That is one of the many things experience has taught me.

If you don’t know what you want, that’s okay. It doesn’t mean your life is pointless or flawed. We learn things at different times in our lives. Everyone has there own space and time and flow.

So just go with that.

Even when it surprises you.

Because believe it or not, your life is always flowing. Even when you feel stuck.

 

 

 

 

Why I wanted a boy

I was always able to have girlfriends if I wanted them.
I just remember them being meaner. Pickier. Gossiped a lot.
I was shy and didn’t care for that.
I kind of was a tom boy. Up until 8 years ago.
I disliked the colour pink and cried when my Mom made me wear frilly dresses to church.

Over the years I could tell I related better to the boys.
Yeah, it had the extra bonus of attention of the opposite sex, but I didn’t even think like that at the time.  It really did make more sense for me to be around the ones that were more like me.

I’m not like the woman on the tv show ‘ The Bachelor’ who all the other ladies hate. No, no, no. By far not the case. I’m likable. I will say that girls have felt jealousy towards me-  even my own two best friends ( who are still my best friends ( not jealous anymore though   ) ) and that most of the time, I didn’t realize this was so until after the fact.

I feel more comfortable and at ease with a male.
But Not so much today. In fact, I am trying to branch out and get my feet better suited for female grounds. For I know in my next relationship I will only have female companions. That’s what I want.

So this swings back around to my desire to birth and raise a boy.
I feel like I understand them better. I’m more familiar and attuned to them.
They make more sense to me.

Having a girl actually scared me. I feel that I wouldn’t have been as good of a Mother, had I had a girl. Truly. I feel like I would have had less patience and been more mean.

Now I’ll be okay with having a girl.
I feel very very fortunate to have had the boy I so very much desired.

Thank you egg and sperm and timing and whatever else the heck makes up the sex of a child.

 

 

Idiot Hope

Let’s name our child Fucker and hope that he doesn’t get made fun of.

Let’s put a red balloon in a room and hope it doesn’t touch one of the thousand spikes that line the walls.

Let’s build our house with sand and hope it never rains.

Let’s buy 3 dollar shoes from some second hand store and hope they last us through a week of hiking mountains in South America.

Let’s go to Las Vegas and hope we don’t lose 10 bucks on the strip.

Let’s hope as soon as we step in front of a camera we’ll be the next Leonardo Dicaprio.

Let’s eat all the burgers, chocolate and sour and sweet candy we can and hope we don’t gain weight.

 

 

Let’s hope we’ll get back with our ex in the next year.

I’ve got to believe it’s idiots hope, if I’m ever gonna let it go. 

But how you supposed to let the hope go, if you truly believe in it?

Is that what makes it idiot hope?