Expect that you won’t know what to do from one moment to the next.
Expect that people are going to say stupid things like comparing losing your father to join a club.
Expect that you won’t be able to sleep or you will over sleep.
Expect people to treat you different. Or like nothing at all happened.
Expect them to tell you it will be ok, when it never will be ok again.
Expect others to share with you quite moments of their own grief or moments where your loved one made them smile.
Expect there to be moments when you smile and think of them.
Expect beauty to return in drips and drabs until rainbows shine like they are the first rainbow ever created.
Expect to think of them everyday, sometimes with a smile and sometimes on the edge of tears.
Expect for friends who love you to mess up when they are trying to talk to you.
Expect that the sun will continue to rise and set and you can be angry and sad all at the same time.
Expect that there is no guide to what you are going through that will ever be enough.
Expect to smile and laugh again, but not always when society deems acceptable.
Expect that your life has changed and your new reality will be something you never imagined….
I’ve wanted to be seen
for such a long time
that I beg for attention
work myself to death
push myself to be
perfect for everyone’s every
millisecond of the day
I’ve wanted to be seen
all my life
that I never stopped to
to be myself
Up with the throbbing head again
No wine to blame
stumbled out the door
into the world
locking myself out
meandered my way back in
set to work
putting things here and there
walked the dog
recycling to the bin
dishes to the sink
clothes to the hamper
litter to the bin
walked the dog again
finished the dishes
then off to bed
little moments building a day
A good man died today, or maybe it was yesterday.
News of his passing just reached me today
A good man died
And in his honor I’m drinking some whiskey
Some sweet Jack that he would have liked
My heart weeps and my world quakes
But its foundations still hold firm
I may weep and I may wail
But my world has not been shattered.
My grief does sting , but it cannot, will not eclipse
That of those
Who held his heart their hands
Who lost their sun and moon today
To them and for them
I hold my glass up high
And weep still more tears
For grief, I cannot comprehend.
I will miss you, Chris. Be at peace, you are loved. You are remembered.
Every nine weeks, my students write a new I-Am poem to help build their writing portfolio and so they can see how they changed over the course of the year. It is interesting to read them because often times even though they know that their poems will be read by me they confess little truths about themselves. The format is simple and can be altered easily to let them express themselves more freely. Tonight, I decided to write my own to get my creative thoughts flowing.
I am tired and burnt out
I wonder if I will ever cease being living in a state of permanent exhaustion
I hear the not so quiet sounds of students working
I see myself getting older and wondering where all the time went
I want to do so much more than I am
I am constantly working to find a way out
I pretend that I have it handle, but I’ve never really been good at this game
I believe there has to be a way, a better way than the one I am living
I touch the brace on my leg and count the days until it is off
I feel the pain between my shoulder blades taunting me
I worry that there will never be another book and the thing my body has become will be permanent
I cry too often
I understand the cycle and know that tomorrow or tonight I will find my fight again.
I am myself and this is only temporary
Turn Back Now
A Trap Lies Ahead
is filled with all the things you want
and not enough time or money
to do them
Paying all your bills
becomes the greatest thrill
Wacky or Tacky
with your little Hitler hair cut
and your 99 cent discount attitude
What you want to do
What you want
always at the cost of
what others need.
Sometimes Momma can’t be there do
what others say needs to be done
sometime she became a mother to young
or Papa walked out
or gotta brought up on charges
Or found a job three states away
Sometimes the way the dice roll
Momma isn’t there to meet the bus
Or the check isn’t enough for
groceries and rent
Qso we eat in the car
and slept in the back street
Sometimes Momma can’t
And that’s just the way it is
But she don’t love any less
Sometimes Momma is afraid
Of the noises out side the apartment
of riding the buses every where
so she makes it a game and there’s play in the bus depot
An adventure everyday
Sometimes Momma can’t but she always does
There you were
keeping it cool
while your fingers
ran over and over
the cash in your palm
the hard earned benjamins in your pocket
You knew it was close
you tried to do the math
all in your head
figure it out
In the end,
you were one jar
of double chocolate
You didn’t even sigh
or make excuses
just looked at the totals
and had the clerk take it
You apologized with your eyes
saying sorry for your lack of cash
sorry for the condition of your financials
sorry for something you didn’t have control of
in that moment of time
I wanted to yell
Have you cease your apologize
and pay for that jar
of double chocolate
But you were out the door
before I could find the words
out of the parking lot before
anyone had a moment to
consider who that jar was really for
or why you were apologizing for
something beyond your control
I am sorry because I have been there
and might be there again
sooner than I like to think
and know how hard it is to keep all the numbers
in your head
making sure the tax is included.
How the dialogue goes in
your head as the numbers keep adding up
and one decimal up
one can of tuna fish
or bagels too much
and you suddenly feel the need to explain
why you only have
$31.00 in your pocket
and bank account to back you up
When reality comes home to roost
dreams lose their shine
and the grass is instantly greener on the other side
Langford Park 2014