madness

From my poetry notebook…This Ain’t Shakespeare.

no love

we watched a movie together

in which his love was proven when

he joined her in her descent into madness

rather than abandon her

madness 2

I’m not certain that I could join you

if madness were your fate

but the madness of my love

would never allow me to desert you

when you needed me most

madness 1

I would stand with you as you go through

your private hell

despair

holding your body as tremble

lending my ears as you scream out your agony

drown in your eyes as your tears make a lake

 

follow in your footsteps as you wander

your path to nowhere

building walls

believe in your words that have no meaning

love you unconditionally because you are my heart

 

never giving up on finding you

beneath your temporary shell of insanity

 

I would help you break that shell

for you to see, once again

the light of love

hope

that even madness

cannot extinguish

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The Playground

From my book…Mom’s Eye View.

 

abandoned playground

There’s nothing as lonely as an overgrown playground with rusting equipment. The sight of an abandoned school yard bereft of the sounds of children at play, is like seeing a backyard pool with autumn leaves floating across the darkened water. It reminds me of the passing of seasons and the loss of lazy afternoons filled with fun and laughter.

I stand and look at what once was a small schoolhouse, now converted into a home. I see, in my mind, the shadows of its former life. The windows lifted open wide on a warm spring day, the fresh air clearing out the chalk dust and mustiness of a classroom that’s been closed off for the winter. I can see the doors suddenly banging open as children rush out to claim the spring day as their own.

children running to the playground

They burst onto the schoolyard, a bundle of tamped down energy, charging towards the once shiny swings. The swing’s only purpose, to aid in its young pilot’s flight into the heavens.

children on metal swing

I can visualize the crooked line of impatient children waiting to mount the first step that will lead to the top of a gleaming slide. I see the sun beating down on its surface, warming it to a finger jumping touch. The glare from the sun on the shiny slide, momentarily blinding the children; causing them to squint before flying down the length of the slide.

I imagine hearing the playful screams of little girls being chased by boys. Boys climbing over one another as they scale the jungle gym; racing against one another in order to be the first to make it to the top.

On the asphalt, jump rope fanatics twirl and skip to a monotonous and lyrical beat. Still others hopscotch into chalked squares after throwing down a pebble.

The sound of a basketball slamming against a backboard; then the resounding thwack of it hitting the tar, prompts a whoop from a child who is now two points ahead in the game.

A whistle tweets and a loud chorus of disappointment echoes across the playground. Children reluctantly shuffle across the school yard to line up, single file, then obediently re-enter the small house of education.

I walk over the to now-faded leather seat of a swaying swing and sit. I automatically push off and begin to pump my feet, then arch my back in an effort to increase momentum. I close my eyes and think back to a little girl who also yearned to reach the heavens.

When I open my eyes, I realize how quickly the years have flown by and I’m saddened by the passage of time. There are so many demands on being an adult that there seems no time to relax. Would I want to be a child again? I don’t think so. To go back would mean to relive my life. Though there are many moments that were wonderful, there are also moments of heartbreak and sorrow.

Still, it would be nice to feel that carefree spirit of when I was a child. To once again believe in nothing more than being able to reach the heavens, on playground swing.

girl on swing

 

From my book, Mom’s Eye View

I May Not Be a Woman After All….

pile of magazines

Reading a woman’s rag mag was quite an eye-opener for me. Being a woman, I thought I had the whole “woman” thing figured out. Come to find out, I know squat about being a woman. I discovered I was so far out of the loop that I almost wasn’t even a woman.

Here’s a list of the finer points of being a woman that educated me.

  1. That women on the backside of forty…well, pushing the fifty mark…are sexy! Who knew? I guess a lot more men than I thought are excited by a woman that has had some life experiences and isn’t afraid to show her true self. In fact, it seems to take the pressure off of them to not be so concerned about how they look.

guy watching tv

2. That Alpha women are highly sought after. An independent woman who can take care of herself, pay her own bills, is assertive, aggressive and opinionated isn’t such a bad thing after all.

50 shades

3. That a woman’s body is her temple…she just needs to know how to accessorize it properly.

scarf

with half a scarf.

woman and sheet

a perfectly placed sheet

angels

and those damn wings.

4. Make-up is now done in a way that it needs to look like we’re not wearing make-up…despite the layers we’ve troweled on to make it look that way.

lots of makeup

5. Exercise is still one of the healthiest ways to stay young. Just stay away from gyms where young people go.

booty shorts

But if forty/fifty plus is considered sexy, well dammit what the hell is sixty gonna be? I’m gonna rock my independence by wearing what I feel like and doing exactly what makes me happy!

uma thurman pulp fiction