Poetry Portfolio

Tasty Tidbit: Ugly Children

I’m probably going to hell for this, but I’m good with it.  Tonight I saw something that frightened me, almost beyond words.  I went to the local Wallyworld with Teresa and as we were checking out we saw a terrifying sight.  The ugliest kid I’ve ever seen.  Not just ugly, because I’ve seen ugly.  This kid was so ugly we actually made up a new category, Zoids, for this kid.  It was like a car wreck, you don’t want to look, but damn you just have to.  Your brain just can’t quite comprehend what it’s seeing.  Blonde curly hair bunched at the top of his head like a Mohawk from hell.  His skin was pale white; I’m not sure if there were fangs I figured he could read my mind so I shouldn’t look too close, and a blue vein going up one cheek.  He was throwing his head back and laughing in this super creepy, horror movie way.  He looked like one of those kids that would come walking out of a corn field, or that had an alien for a daddy.  As we walked out, Teresa tried to get me to take one last look.  I refused. The sight of that vein was burned into my memory.  We wondered in the car, does the mom know that her child is the spawn of satan?  Or does she think he’s a darling little boy?  I would say that the child is the result of some ugly sex.  The mom wasn’t ugly, neither were her other two kids that were huddled together in the back of the cart for safety.  Too much inbreeding?  I guess we’ll never know.  I wonder what people say when they see pictures of the kid; I mean what could you say? Well at least he doesn’t have a tail?  Or, I see he got your vein?  There was nothing to work with.  What do people with ugly kids do?  Or what if you have a really cute kid and a monster child?  Just remember, adoption is always an option. 

Tasty Tidbit: Don’t Forget to Ask

            A few days ago I was feeling down.  Not just down, as in blue, more like completely disconnected.  I hadn’t heard from my husband in over a week, and I was moving out of my mother’s house.  It felt a bit like I was being booted from the nest again and the people I expected to catch me weren’t any where to be seen.  Once I started down the road of funk, my vibration followed, which means that funk followed as well.  I went to take a nice lavender salt bath and found out that my tub drain leaks.  Later that day, I found that the toilet in that bathroom was running continuously, and the toilet in our half bath is wedged in so tight you can barely wipe yourself. Things just kept happening, I lost the DVD remote, my cats knocked two plants over (freshly watered of course!), etc, etc.  The task of moving for the second time in four months was overwhelming me, and being alone was crushing.

            Finally, I was able to sit down and talk to Teresa about things.  I basically spewed my guts all over the place, describing what was going on in my life.  We chat for over an hour about the various mishaps, and when we parted I did feel a little better.  Still when I got back to my new pad the emptiness was waiting in the dark for me.  I decided to just sit down and let myself have a good cry.  Sometimes you just need to cleanse all that funk out.  As I was crying my phone beeped, letting me know that I had a new email.  Hoping that it would be my husband, it wasn’t, I grabbed the phone.  It was an email newsletter that I get daily.  This one was all about laying down your burdens, turning your problems over to the divine.  There was a short meditation included.  I immediately laid back down and did the meditation.  I visualized all of my problems as a package, which turned into several packages including one pet carrier that had two of my main problem people in it.  Then I called my team in.  To me, my team is all my angels, guides, totem animals, passed family, etc.  I called everyone in and asked if they would help me with these problems.  I visualized each stepping forward and taking a package.  I could feel the relief.  I could actually feel the weight lifting off of me.  In the meditation it said to be sure to say thank you, and since I agree that gratitude is incredibly important, I made sure to say thank you.  As I did so, it popped in my head and I guess this might sound bad, but I thought, why didn’t you guys do this sooner, you knew I needed help?  The answer: I never asked.

Poetry Portfolio

Well folks there’s no grand lesson tonight, except perhaps one of gratitude.  The last four months I have been living at my mother’s home, because I sold our house.  I knew, and she knew, that this was a temporary situation.  Going back home at age 31 is a little disconcerting.  The first time I came home at 2:00am and my mother was waiting for me, really threw me. I was grateful however to have a place to stay.  My mother; however, does not always think to ask me things.  Like, hey Sara do you need this writing portfolio? If she had asked the answer would have been yes.  No, she didn’t ask.  She deleted it from the computer and when I went looking for it, I was devastated.  I didn’t keep copies of my work, because I figured, hey it’s on the computer.  As a last ditch effort I decided to write my professor from last semester and see if he could email me my portfolio.  I thought it was a long shot at best.  Sometimes long shots are the best shots.  Today, he emailed me back, portfolio in hand, or email I suppose and I was overjoyed and grateful.  Because of this I decided that I would share a few poems from this portfolio with you all tonight.  I hope you enjoy them.  I know I am just so grateful that I can share something that I thought was lost for good. 

Breaking Boughs

The first time I fell

You caught me.

The second time I fell

You rebuked me.

The third time I fell

You ignored me.

The fourth time I fell

I caught myself.

The Return

Nothing extraordinary happened

Nothing has changed

Yet I feel a shift inside of me

My kaleidoscope vision turning again.

Poor me has been washed away

With tidal waves and foreign shores

Leaving me the same

But released

Released from grief

Heartache and pain

Released from myself created chains

I return home

To the place of I Am.

The Gallery

I stare into fragile frames

Looking for a piece of myself

Watercolor, oil paints, pencil, and charcoal

Lines, figures, dots, and landscape

In the corner

Just like me

Hidden in the back

Just like me

She waits staring

Just like me

I fall into her penciled eyes

And buy a piece of my soul.

Perspective

A Free bird in a little cage

Dancing

Wearing chains around its little foot

Jangling

A Free bird in a little cage

Creating

Flying through open skies.