the slickness of my tongue in youth
divulged my immaturity
when speaking untruths to get my way
at the liquor store
with a fake id
batting eyelashes for rum
at school
with drama-filled explanations
of why homework wasn’t turned in
at home
the walls cringing with angst
from screams between generations
at parties
braggadocious and vain
impressing the girls and boys for attention
as a fledgling human
i excelled in drama
yet aging now prefers that the lies come to an end
with grief our ancestors sigh
their wants poke through a small crevice in time
and like salt to a wound
the descendants take the old to the edge
with their newer knowledge
the youth lifted imposed blinders
they put on their tough coat of skin
and created their field of dreams
the depths of which were endless
the utterances and murmuring of the past
comes from ancient bruises
that this generation wants no part of
the taste of fear
put aside
in favor of adventure
thrill-seeking
with no thought of consequence
it was years of challenging the restrictions
of previous generations
not seeing the worth of bold gyrations
they were stuck, we were wild
innocence trusting
the slaps and brandings of life
not yet left their marks
I am in awe of her ability to once again draw me so deeply into her poetry, leaving me feeling like I’ve relived my past. Candice can write about experiences that resonate like my own, a history that is sometimes hard to put into words, but here, the emotions wrapped in metaphor strike a chord. Thank you, Candice! ❤
I made myself a promise I can’t keep
to stay steady, even in times of grief
not obey my gut and flee, bare-foot
into thick forest where birds
never rebuke
not to climb from shaking boat
wet wood and mold, scarred paint and
many gentle hands
cupping despair in her once tree lined womb
ever tempted to fling off effort
abandon the temple of people and their
admonishments
those truthful kindnesses flung back in reproach
by those who have no use of you
standing like husks by the road
waiting to snag your heart to shreds.
The woman across the road lifts her shirt
stuck slightly with glue from hospital monitors
a strange gel they affix electrodes to
when they’re getting ready to cut
she fills her chest with the congestion of the late hour
burning in filament
like fire birds finding song in dark
her dream is to be…
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I know that I have a need to let music embody me for enjoyment. It’s also a distraction for loneliness or wanting to feel nostalgic about a memory. And sometimes just headbanging intensely with a good AC/DC tune is good for the soul. There are quite a few artists that I like and for so many different reasons. My tastes run a wide berth, and across all time and genres.
Reflecting on my teenage years, I realize I used music quite heavily to navigate some of the emotional chaos in my life at that time. Shaking off the demons accompanied by music was quite cathartic for me then. In my youth, whenever I required a release of pent up emotions, I’d turn on the record player. My go-to album was Genesis – A Trick of the Tail. I’d start by playing the song Ripples and let all the deep, sobbing emotions rise to the top as I simultaneously cried and sang out all the angst. A sort of purge, if you will. Next came A Trick of the Tail to set my mind on a path of a take-charge, purposeful freedom. Lastly, Los Endos to take all the heartfelt emotions which erupted with the first song, allowing them to build again into a fever pitch of strength and control. Feeling them explode with the crescendo of the song, emerging spent and empty, that was the goal and what saved me from going deeper inside. This was my process when living became all too much. It allowed me to escape from my own destruction. And kept me from being committed.
It’s interesting that I find peace and quiet are what I relish most being a grownup. But maybe tapping into such a focused release might do me some good in my older years too.
They
will talk
anyway.
Give them something
really scandalous to chew on. Be you!
The injurious are on the prowl.
Instinctively my guard goes up.
Hurling words to pierce the psyche.
Expectedly waiting for more of a beat-down.
Another and another and another.
The taunts ricocheting inside me like a ping-pong ball.
Humiliation the game, the victor, no one.
I feel desperate and alone. I want to cry.
Fear, sadness, and agony achieved.
I don’t know how much longer I can take this!
Bored, looking for the next target to feel superior to.
I’m exhausted from this continued abuse.
I NEED TO PUSH MYSELF OVER THE EDGE TO FREEDOM.
I hear you.
All your loud voices broadcast anger, frustration, desperation.
Rightly so.
I see the care, empathy, and concern.
Rightly so.
I’m feeling the impavid feistiness of your direction.
You ARE SO RIGHT!
I can see your determination manifest change.
Make that blockade of white suits bow before you.
Shut down that noise in your face telling you no.
Strike down the smug betrayers of your future.
Ride with the forcible waves of support behind you.
And make the future we failed to give you
a better place than where you’ve risen up from.
You deserve to reside there.
I love you.
I Write Her 