Tag: loneliness

My Child Self (still there, inside, waiting)

On By MiCoIn changes, childhood, courage, darkness, family, fear, growing, heartbreak, hope, love, love poetry, pain, past times, poetry, sadness, sweetnessLeave a comment

 

Sad little girl,

Come, sit with me.

Let me hold you, dry your tears,

Kiss your sweet little face.

I know you are hurt, I understand, I see her,

I see how she is, how she treats you.

Come and sit close, you can trust me,

I will protect you; there is no hurting here.

I know you are too little to understand, and

Too innocent to see the shame and fear she holds inside.

All you know is the pain of her betrayal.

I know and see how hard you try to please her, yet still she is hateful and mean.

I hear her tell you daily that you are not good enough, are funny looking and how she wishes she had never given birth to you.

I see and feel your pain and frustration, and

It breaks my heart to watch this happen to us.

I have learned and grown while you have waited and now the time has come

For me to come back in time to you, to a time when we were one.

Look for me and don’t be afraid, come close and I will read you a story,

I know she never did.

I will hold you like my baby and sing your sorrows to sleep,

She didn’t know how.

I will show you that you are better than good enough, and

I will prove to you that there is nothing wrong with you, in spite of what she said.

You will never be alone again,

The wait is over.

Trust me my child-self,

I have enough love for both of us, I pinky-promise.

 

 

After re-reading this post it has finally dawned on me why my anger and hurt at being neglected is still so strong… that was my punishment as a child for not being what my mother wanted me to be…. first she would yell at me and then she would ignore me, not speak to me for days at a time, and when she finally did, it was only to affirm how worthless I was… my husband treated me the same way, and so did other men in my life… unbelievable… so wrong and so sad for that little girl who still lives in my heart.

My Mind

On By MiCoIn changes, courage, darkness, dreams, faith, fear, hope, Joy, light, love, love poetry, pain, peace, poetry, sadness5 Comments

 

My mind has become my enemy,

One that shares this space inside of me but cares not for my well-being.

It turns night into day, lust into love, wants into envy,

Truth – my truth – into lies.

It whispers in my left ear, words

My right side, it knows, will reject.

In the beginning, my human beginning, my mind

Was my friend, my ally, my confidant, but no more.

 

So I spend my time sitting and focusing on my

Return to that initial, eternal being,

 

And when that process is complete,

My mind will return to its natural state as my life navigator and soul companion.

Its taunting will stop, its search for drama will cease,

Its creation of a hundred hurtful scenarios a day will end,

And once again, as it was in the beginning,

It will become my friend.

 

A Play of Stillness

On By MiCoIn changes, courage, darkness, faith, fear, god, hope, Joy, light, love, love poetry, Man, nature, peace, poetry, poetry changes, seasons, spirit, sweetness, Uncategorized, Woman, Writing, Zen5 Comments

 

I sit on the stage.

Darkness surrounds me.

The audience, if there is one,

Is silent.

There are no props on the stage

Only layers of black curtains.

I don’t remember auditioning for a play,

But here I am.

It’s odd there is no music or

Other players.

I sit in my darkness for what seems like forever

But there is still no sound, no movement, no life.

Just stillness and a mild sense of confusion.

I feel the space in front of me more than see it.

I sense it is there, curtains in a circular shape

A boundary perhaps but between what and where?

The other side is unknown and unknowable

Until the show begins.

But will it begin?  Still no script or players,

No music or lights.

I run my hand through my hair to prove to myself that

I am still real in this sensory deprived place.

But what is real about an empty stage, a wordless play,

A playerless story?

I begin to realize that

None of those things matter.

All is stillness and non-separate.

The “show” never begins and never ends.

The circular curtain and empty stage contain eternity

And this space is an empty place within me.

There will be no play, no script,

No lights, no audience.

This story is mine, the darkness my stillness,

The only witness, me.

Just me as part of the universal consciousness

Acting out a play of well-rehearsed lines without ever saying a word.

Each player a part of the whole

Never separate from the others.

All joined in the cosmic drama

Of existence.

The curtain rises on one story, one actor, one consciousness

In an act that never ends.

Just Look

On By MiCoIn candles, changes, dance, dreams, god, hope, Joy, light, love, love lost, love poetry, Man, nature, peace, poetry, poetry changes, seasons, Uncategorized, Woman, Writing5 Comments

I saw the stars last night,

Didn’t even have to get out of bed.

They were so bright in the cold, dense,winter air

That they shown right through my lacy bedroom curtains.

I saw it as a reminder of what is still there and always will be,

And to find it yet again,

We just have to look through the holes one more time.

The Yellow Room

On By MiCoIn changes, courage, darkness, dreams, hope, love, love lost, love poetry, Man, peace, poetry, poetry changes, spirit, sweetness, Uncategorized3 Comments

I am not a quitter but there comes a time

When the fight is lost.

They say to resist is futile, as some things cannot be defeated

And may not need to be, so,

I have taken the advice given and

Have made the decision.

I have gone to the room,

Cleaned the cobwebs out of the corners, painted the walls yellow,

Arranged the flowers on the table and freshened the bed with clean, crisp linens, after all,

He deserves only the best.

It is a south facing room,

I know he likes the sun and heat.

I looked at all the other rooms – all unoccupied,

But none were quite as nice.

I don’t think he will be lonely there as

I will always be with him.

I’ll have to find a safe place to put the key;

I know I will use it often.

Especially at first,

I know he will come out a lot.

I’ll have to hold him gently in the palm of my hand,

Put him back in and lock the door each time; there is no other way.

I know I’ll complain about the inconvenience,

But it really will be my own fault, as I’ll still think of him too often.

They say in time I’ll see him less and less.

I’m not so sure of that, but I hope they’re right.

But right now I can take no more; he refuses to leave so I have no choice

As he comes uninvited into my thoughts daily.

So when those thoughts and feelings overwhelm me,

I will hold his essence in my hands and send him back.

And when I send him back, he will need no direction

As he knows which room is his.

It’s the first one on the right,

The only yellow room in my heart.

 

I Wonder Where He Is…

On By MiCoIn courage, dreams, faith, hope, light, love, love poetry, poetry, sweetness, Uncategorized, Writing8 Comments

I wonder where he is?

I feel him; I can taste his mouth,

Smell his skin, feel his touch.

He is strong and kind,

Passionate and silly,

 Light hearted and honest.

He holds me in the night and kisses

My eyes awake each morning.

Our souls mingle in the darkness of early morning sleep

Where yesterday and tomorrow meet and

Blend together into the now.

I have known him since before time existed.

There is no separation between he and I

As we are two halves of a whole.

He is my anam cara, my soul mate, my life.

I wonder if he exists…

A Valuable Part of Two

On By MiCoIn candles, changes, courage, darkness, dreams, earth, faith, fear, garden, god, growing, hope, light, love, love lost, love poetry, nature, pain, peace, poetry, sadness, spirit, summer, Uncategorized2 Comments

The heat of a summer day softens and slips silently

Into evening twilight.

The shifting shadows and cooling breezes of evening chill my being and

Bring an acute awareness of sorrow and emptiness to my state of mind.

This subtle, soft twilight is lonely and empty now

But was beautiful at other times and under other circumstances in my life.

Twilight holds tenderness and acceptance of love in times of loving but

When love is missing or withheld, twilight is punishing in its loneliness.

A solitary stroll through the garden is a waste;

There is no joy in relaxing in the rocking hammock alone. 

Light sadly leaves the landscape and drains the world of color

Just as this lost love drains my soul and heart of color.

The trees along the edge of the clearing blend into a fortress wall,

Locking me out in my loneliness.

Fireflies blink on and off but evade my eyes behind the fortress of trees

and the stark cold moon light accentuates  my solitude by throwing only one shadow behind me.

In better times, when I was not alone, the deepiening twilight was a magical time,

Full of love and acceptance.

 We walked the garden paths together, basking in the glow of the moon

 And soaking in the softness of star-shine.

Our shadows moved willingly behind us, hand in hand,

And fireflies lit our way home.

I want to go back to that time, back to being a valuable part of two,

Back to the times of softened days that faded into loving nights of passion and acceptance.

I need you take me back there, please…

Always Alone

On By MiCoIn changes, darkness, dreams, earth, fear, god, hope, nature, pain, poetry, sadness4 Comments

 

I’m lying in a hammock,

Sideways,

Staring at the canopy of trees above my head.

Their branches interlaced like the fingers of lovers in an act of passion.

They sway with the gentle breeze,

Each variety with its distinct leaf waiving and dancing to its own tune.

Above and beyond the boughs lies a deep blue sky, dotted with plumes of soft whiteness

Each drifting and changing with every second, never the same from moment to moment.

I watch this scene as the sunlight slowly turns to dusk.

The sun-powered breezes fade and the forest yawns and folds in on itself and sleeps.

I should do the same

But the magic of the transformation of day into night fixes me to this spot.

All form is erased, sky and forest become one, stars twinkle above and fireflies twinkle below as reflections of one another like sky in water.

Buzzing insects sounds are silenced and

A different cast of characters takes over the night shift.

An owl awakens and his hooting echoes between the sleeping trees,

Others answer in kind.

I hear the fox’s footsteps through the dry leaves and

Goosebumps cover my neck at the sound of his bark.

Less vocal creatures slink and stalk through the forest night

Taking their turn at life.

And me, I don’t fit into either cast,

I exist equally in both worlds but am not a participant in either and

Therein lays my sorrow.

I am only a watcher and always alone.

 

The City Sleeps

On By MiCoIn darkness, dreams, fear, poetry, Uncategorized2 Comments

Its passageway’s are dark and deep

The city sleeps.

 

Traffic stops in the late night hours

Leaving the tunnels and passageways empty and echoing.

 

The statues that adorn the bridges and street corners stand in silence,

Their presence as forgotten as the craftsman who carved them.

 

Does anyone ever see them?

Does anyone ever care?

 

Buildings sit inches away from each other,

Built to use every bit of space,

 

None is wasted

None is.

 

They build closer and closer

Taller and taller until the sky is blocked out leaving no reminders of what is real.

 

The bus I ride from the airport to South Station navigates the empty streets, turning and sliding past the emotionless statues, the empty tunnels,

 

Past the tunnel doors that lead to nowhere and follows the

Streets and turns made just wide enough to fit through, does someone actually plan these places?

 

Or do they grow by themselves, out of each other

In layers and layers of cement and iron bars.

 

I feel the need to be silent in the dark empty city night.

The bus interior is dark except for my reading light

 

A tiny light illuminating

Just what is below it – me and my pen and paper.

 

Am I the only one who is really here

The only on paying attention …

 

All else fades to darkness in the back of the bus

The end of the tunnel, the dark and abandoned South Station.

 

It is an odd sensation thinking of the millions who lay sleeping all around me. As wildlife sleep at night, hidden out of sight in the forest.

 

The city draws the millions to it, holds them here, caught in the rush and sorrow of a life of illusion, but too busy to notice.

 

It is only in the dark of early morning that

The beauty and truth of this place is revealed.

 

Minus the noise, crowds, exhaust fumes and indifference,

The city glows with a knowing internal presence.

 

I feel its sadness like the bridge and

Street corner statues feel it.

 

They and I recognize each other as the neglected and forgotten ones.

Only alive when noticed but only noticed by each other

 

And only when the city sleeps.

 

MC 5-20-16

 

“I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch

Love is not a victory march

It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah”

Leonard Cohen