hanging half moons of expectations.

this thought came to me a little while
ago while having a conversation about
expectations this week…

maybe to some level, placing over-sized
expectations on people is akin to trying
to hang an unfinished moon in the sky.
it looks lovely, but there is no love for
the origins of it, and there’s a bit of
restlessness and impatience wanting it to
be better. we do that to each other all
the time in one form or another. and it
causes a lot of pain. more than we need
to add on in the first place.

think about it. how many times have you
wanted someone to be a storybook romance,
or to remain an easygoing, cool person?
how many times have you done or said
something to that person because they
weren’t being who you wanted them to be?
and doing this in spite of the fact that
people are who they are and change how
their life needs them to, not because of
your narcissistic whims? yeah. we have
all been there. and that in essence lies
at the heart of a lot of the sickness in
society. we act and think a certain way,
and while we have come to the conclusion
that people know better, they don’t act
or demonstrate that they do. and while we
should accept that, more often than not
we don’t. and that non-acceptance causes
a lot of issues.

lately i have come to one or two people
in my life and atoned for placing heavy
expectations on them. i did that to them
because i let myself lose sight of the
balance needed to view the best of people
without having myself do things and interact
with the expectation of reciprocity to
match or exceed my own interaction. it
takes a good deal to remember that balance.
you can get thrown off by the demons of
ego, lust, greed and others. that balance
being thrown off isn’t because your intent
is dishonest or evil all the time. it’s
because intent gets tossed aside like a
bit of dirty tissues because the demons
i just mentioned make you get too caught
up in yourself and what you want, at the
expense of that other person or other people.
so when i made my apologies, it was me
being aware that my behavior had changed
towards them and could have made them feel
a way about me that wasn’t my intention.
we can’t forget that people respond to
whatever we give them. and these responses
may differ but the genuine ones always can
be discerned.

we have to let people be, and we have to
let ourselves be grown enough to accept that.
it’s silly to want people to be your everything
all at once when YOU may not even be your
own everything or are moving towards it.
doing that puts them in a prison. a prison
of artificial love and understanding, just
like putting aspartarme in coffee and calling
it sugar. what you don’t realize is, you’re
in that prison too. a warder is as much a
captive as the prisoner is, sometimes more
so. you don’t get to enjoy the greatness
of people that way. and those actions of
heavy expectations are nothing more than a
mirror to your own being. so, i’ll ask you
this: don’t you have an appreciation for the
moon in all of its phases? don’t you have a
great love for who you are and what you’ve
gone through to be at this point in your
life? if the answer to both questions is
yes, then release yourself from the burden
of placing such heavy burdens on others.
life is much lighter that way.

as always, thanks for reading…and walk

words for women of fire

*inspired by a poem by Sylvia Plath, to all
the women with fire*

there are few poems
for the women who wield fire
as a weapon of crowning glory
over the ills set before them,
few words
left for the women with hair
of volcanic red,
to match hells with no water.

their hair,
bequeathed beacons burning away
everything imposed like a rocket piercing space,
removing all of those impurities
that cloak themselves in noble things
and like thieves before the crime
shed them briskly
to wage war upon bodies and spirits.

these women
rising to eat men and myths
like so much oxygen,
suffocating the insufferable
leaving dry bones in their wake
whetting their palates with song
and love that is as free as a baby’s laugh
or when truth shows up for dinner

the women
who let fire flow as their crown
will live their own poetry
with unburdened hearts providing a sound.

bite of bitter tongues

there are bits of time
where the bite of tongues
that speak little else
but bitter brimstone
and tart acidity
feast on you silently

seething, seemingly on display
in vintage prisons of blown glass
you mouth words onto plates
as offerings
that wouldn’t exit theirs
until their bellies & souls distended

there is a limit
to keeping quiet
when the bites of insecurity
riddle your spirit
there is a waterline to honest tears
there is a limit to saying sorry

and when you reach that point
may your glass cage shatter
and each splinter be a word
that cuts deep and leaves no scar
save for words you once said
painting their faces

within the first sip of java

*for sagal*

i’ve wanted you
at the moment of overflow
filled past cool indifference
you thought would hold you back
resolve trembling slightly
like china cups and the breadth of
tender and sturdy shores
that are your hips.

wanted you coursing
past teeth that have gnawed
on shyness and fear
that chafes at your desire
like humidity does to an August night
and yes, i’d delight in that heat
you’ve been simmering with
since we last embraced

i’ve wanted you
to find your echoes in my blood
make them boudoir garments
as you made your way finally and fearlessly
to the bedchambers laid golden in me
i’ve wanted you
to declare your heart for me
boldly like fire within the first sip of java
but will you still feign sleep?

piecing letters, piercing resistance.

confession: i fight the timidity 

some situations nurture quite
often. even when i may be the 
cause. this is only one way i 
since last December, i’ve taken 
it upon myself to challenge and 
slay demons that would make me
timid in my relationships with others
in the past. i’ve realized that a life
well lived requires it, and demands
it from you. and so, i’ve made it a
point to chop the heads off demons
with resolve like a guillotine. the best
way i’ve found outside of having a 
face-to-face with some folk is by the
written word. letters.
i had heard about writing letters to
people as a way of therapeutic 
cleansing before, but it had never
occurred to me to utilize it until last
year. it had become apparent after
my birthday that i was still toting a
few heavy pieces of emotional baggage.
less than i had years prior, but still
there. and i realized that it was all
due to how some people valued their
connection with me. and how i felt
those connections lacking in one
thing or another. now, these were/are
people who occupied some real 
significant space in my cipher. and
my tendency to internalize was at 
play, to my detriment. it was hurting
me in silent ways. and in other cases,
it was a way for me to convey real
gratitude and love.
so i set out to write letters to these 
folks. some had long passed on, and
i felt these letters would be a fitting 
talking drum to their spirits in the 
universe. i also wrote letters to those
who i felt weren’t forthright with 
reciprocity of their spirit for whatever
reason. the intent at first was never to
mail these out in any form. as i wrote,
i had a chance to revel in happy 
moments. there were one or two that
broke me down to the point where it
felt like it was raining indoors and i
could only see the screen by blinking.
it was a process both cathartic and
cauterizing. and i emerged from it 
both thankful and renewed. since
then, i’ve sent out a few letters and
cards to a couple of people. and i plan
to do more of it.
now, i chose letters because in a 
world where social media has greatly
improved our ways to communicate,
it has also downgraded the level of
communication. folks want to be all
about claiming ‘first’ to comment.
folks hiding behind ‘tweets’ and 
‘status updates’. even to the point
where some will prefer having text
message conversations a mile long
than to actually call someone. it’s 
as if life in all of its inflections is being
left to visual hieroglyphs, emoticons
and other things because some are
afraid of the emotions life brings in
dealing with each other. i can’t say
i haven’t been in this zone. but writing
and sending these notes is my way out
of it. because i love myself & have love,
if not only respect for those who i’ve
chosen to get close to. and this is a
step towards beheading the demons
of timidity and awkwardness, one
fell swoop of a sentence at a time. so
try a letter or a postcard sometimes.
you’ll see how refreshing it is.
as always, thanks for reading. until
the next time, walk good.