Friday, December 9, 2011

New Year's Resolution

I have decided that I want to emulate Anita Blake for the New Year. I will sign up for self defense classes, hit the gym, and learn how to shoot. I'm pretty excited about this decision. I hope it leads to self efficacy and badassery. And cute supernatural boyfriends. That would be pretty cool as well.

Saturday, December 3, 2011

I See You - A Poem

I know you notice

I see you stare

I feel your presence

I know you're there

I wish you knew

I hope you care

What goes on beneath this coiffed up hair

The thinking starts

And hope departs

But comes again

When you walk in

So sad but true

That when I'm blue

A smile from you...

I'm long past due.

Adoring, true

But more, it's you

It's you

So sad, but true

I need your rapture

I want that pain

That heartache I get when I think your name

I wish for strength

I wish in vain

That awkward space behind the reins

I feel it tug

I feel in vain

I long for something

To start again

That voice talking

Say my name

And I know you notice

I see you stare

And I feel your presence

I know you're there

I just wish you knew

And I hope you care

What goes on inside this outerwear

The shaking starts

And strength departs

But comes again

When you walk in

So sad but true

It's you, it's you

And when I'm down

And you come around...

I feel brand new

So sad but true

What's more, it's true

It's you, it's you

So sad, but true

It's you

So I want to say it

Right out loud

I want to say it

And say it proud

But I know it's stupid

And I know this crowd

Won't play that game,

But all the same

I want to say it

Right out loud

I long for something

Soft like rain

I long for something

To start again

I long for kisses

And tender pain

The kind that blesses

The kind that stains

I long for something

That's so much more,

Than you'd ever give me

Than what's in store

But I feel your presence

And I love your name

And I smile whenever I see you again

And my stomach flutters

With anxious stutters

Whenever you speak

And remember my name

I'm enroped,


In this silly lovegame

I see you seeing me

Blushing now, looking down

I know you know it

Hiding now, I'm hiding now

But you could see through it

If you wanted to

I want you to

Want you too

That part of me

That part of me

That wants you, see?

Wants you to be

With me...

So badly

I wish you knew

So I could stop pretending

Not to care

Stop charades and meet you there


Between your house and mine


Before the sun shines

What goes on inside this freckled mind

I'm not fine

I'm not fine

I stare,

I stare

And wish you were there

Wish you were there

For me to stare

'Cause I know you notice

Me, over here

And I feel your presence

When you're over there

And I wonder, too

What it's like for you

What goes on beneath that beauty, rare

What goes on beyond that lovely stare

And do you miss me

Whenever I'm not there?

'Cause I know you notice

I see you stare

I feel your presence

I know you're there

I wish you knew

I hope you care

But I know for sure,

That there's nothing there.

©2011 ~strawberry-goodness

Friday, December 2, 2011

Tiers of Tears - A Poem

These are not tears over rejection
The many layers of affection
Or the lost connection

These are tears of embarrassing,
Didn't say anything...
Tears hot like blushing

These are tears of a lifetime
Of being outcast,
outranked and outclassed

These are tears of knowing
I'm not up to the task

And I wish I could play it cool
Because you're right,
And I'm such an overzealous fool

But it's too late now

And these tears can't be undone
Or rewound
But I'm undone
And unwound
Like a spool of tangled thread
Falling apart to a new rhythm
Of choking sobs and bitterness

And I should have known
I should have known

But these are not tears of rejection

These are tears of shame
Tears of knowing,
I'll never be able to play that game

©2011 ~strawberry-goodness

Monday, November 28, 2011

Six Degrees - A Poem

I'm twelve steps away
From a full recovery

And you,
You may be
The sixth degree
Of separation that I need
To get me halfway

The other half to this battle is
Not knowing
Where we're going
But right now, I know
This much is true:
You, you may be
The sixth degree

And me,
I might just be a two
On a scale of one to six
And I can't wait
For two plus two
I leap ahead and ask for
Your seven digits

'Cause you
You may be the sixth degree
The other half of twelve

And me,
I might just be a six
'Cause on a scale of one to awesome
You're pretty much it

And you,
You may be
The sixth degree
Of separation that I need

The clarification
Of where I want to be

The other half to this battle is not knowing
Where I'm going
But right now, I know this much is true:
That me, I'm free
And you, you may be
The sixth degree

And me,
I might just be a two
On a scale of one to six
'Cause nine to five doesn't even cover it

I'm lovin' it

And I'm all about these twenty questions,
If you're into it

I'm into it

And right now is how
It ought to be
Just you and me
And the sixth degree

©2011 ~strawberry-goodness

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Dirty Laundry - A Poem

I woke up in bondage with the sunrise

The violent reds and cold grays

Throwing shadows on my borrowed bedroom's wall

Because I don't belong here, and I don't belong to you

I'm just passing through

I woke up in bondage with the sunshine

Twisted sheets, my heart skips a beat

And I'm torn from the dream I was living

The best way to my heart is through my tearducts

Because you leave me wondering:

how could I have been better?

how could I have changed things,

So that I could have kept you

in my arms?

Or at least kept me

in your mind

Am I so easily forgotten?

Tossed aside like these crumpled bedsheets

Thrown away like dirty laundry on Sunday

Because it was Sunday

When you left me, this last time

And I should be over you by now

But I keep waking up in bondage

Tied at hands and feet with caring


My heart betrays me when I wake

To sunshine and heartache

And I'm torn today

The thought of you makes my chest hurt

Eyes squeezed shut against the memories

But these lashes aren't waterproof

And the emotions slip out to slide down

My freckled cheeks

I hate you for affecting me this way

I hate you for being fine,

When I'm so obviously not okay

I hate you on days like today

When I wake up in bondage

Tied to the memories with eyes leaking

But the rain won't wash the pain away

And one look into my eyes shows that

This muddy decay

I woke up in bondage with the sunrise

The violent reds and cold grays

Throwing shadows on my borrowed bedroom's wall

Because I don't belong here, and I don't belong to you

I'm just passing through

I woke up in bondage with the sunshine

Twisted sheets, my heart skips a beat

And I'm torn from the dream I was living

The best way to my heart is through my tearducts

Because you leave me wondering:

how could I have been better?

how could I have changed things,

so that I could have kept you?

in my arms

Or at least kept me

in your mind

Am I so easy?

So easily forgotten?

Tossed aside so quickly

like these crumpled bedsheets

Thrown away so quietly

like dirty laundry

©2011 ~strawberry-goodness

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Equality is Not Sameness

“Put any woman in an area run mostly by men and rumors will fly. Unless you make it very clear that you are off limits, there is also a certain competitiveness that sets in. Some men are either trying to run you out of town or get into your pants. They don't seem to know any other way to deal with a woman. If you're not a sexual object, you're a threat.” -- Laurell K. Hamilton


As a female, I encounter this sort of bigotry daily. A few examples: my dress code for work requires make-up, hosiery and high heels for all females. No exceptions. That seems a bit ridiculous to me. If I want to wear flat, comfortable shoes for my 6 hour shift, and no make-up, I think I should be entitled.

Not to mention that I was hired for the position on my "beautiful smile" alone and not any sort of viable credentials. As a woman, you are an object first, and a person second. I appreciate being found attactive, I do. But I have a mind and a heart that goes along with the physical body I possess, and that often gets forgotten by the wayside.

I think what I would like to see happen is this: everyone, without exception is equal. Sameness does not necessitate equality. Women and men should be able to dress however they want: skirts, blouses, make-up, polished nails, suits, bras, thongs, boxers, whatever. It should be a free for all. If you have a uniform, it should that: uniform. No differentiation between men and women. I don't think we should do away with all the make-up and traditionally "girly" stuff. We just shouldn't be legally authorized to require it, or expect it from our women like it's an inherent part of who they are. People should be individuals. Multi-faceted and varied. There are too many ways to shove beautiful unique people into a tiny box of social expectations. And that's limiting. If a woman wants to dress in thigh-high lace stocking and 6 inch spike heels with a feather boa thrown on over a vinyl bustier, more power to her. If a man wants to do the same, more power to him. If either sex wants to wear the corporate America "power suit", that should be their prerogative. All I'm saying is that we should be free to be who we want to be. We shouldn't be expected or required to be something else, based on gender norms. However, if we eliminate options, we are inducing sameness, not equality. Hence, the choice should always be there.

The other thing I would like to mention is the idea behind the Slut Walk concept. If a woman is sexual, on purpose or not - she deserves the same respect as if she was not. If I wear a short skirt and a push up bra, that is not a waiver of my human rights. It's just an outfit. I deserve the same respect regardless of my physique and style of dress. That holds true for everyone else, too. I hate seeing people treated a certain way because of tattoos, speaking style, race, social economic background, regional identity, or anything else.

People are different and that's beautiful! We are a melting pot, people. Let's revel in that, not be afraid of it or try to assimilate it.

Diversity is, after all, the spice of life.


"People say I'm a feminist, but in truth, I am an equalist. I believe that everyone, male and female, should be free to be whom and what they are. Not fit into some tight cultural box. The idea that men should be okay with sexual contact, because they like it, and women don't like it, so they should be protected from it... is unfair and untrue." -- Laurell K. Hamilton

Friday, September 16, 2011

The Wild Hunt

I began reading Swallowing Darkness by Laurell K. Hamilton this morning, since I finished A Lick of Frost last night before falling asleep.

In this series, Hamilton delves into a lot of fairy-tale lore; she talks about the idea of faerie being both a place and a people, as well as all different kinds of mythical history and how it ties in with the series' characters. Of these many splendid topics, I find myself most intrigued by the idea of The Wild Hunt. As horrifying as it is, I find it genuinely intriguing. The idea in the Hamilton series is that when the Hunt is headed by the Huntsman and has been given a purpose, or a Target (read: "victim"), that it delivers a sort of vengeful, unstoppable justice. And that is a concept with some weight to it.

Just think: you give your solemn oath to avenge some terrible wrong and - with enough power and forethought - you have the ability to do just that.

Hell. Yes.

Why am I thinking about revenge so early in the day? Well, my friends, it's been a hard time here recently. I am feeling mighty scorned and mighty angry with the powers that be. There's only so many times you can duck your head and cast your eyes downward under the weight of rebuff before you start to resent the rebuker.

In other words, this dog has been kicked too many damn times to resist the urge to bite off the hand that feeds it.

Not to worry, it's all just angry poetry looking for a way out onto the page. So many feelings to use as paints upon the canvas. I wonder what sort of picture they will paint when the emotional well has run dry at last. If it ever truly runs dry. I'm thinking more of geyser than a well at this point. Nothing as clockwork and predictable as Old Faithful, but something along the lines of a watery Mount Saint Helen. Attached to my tear ducts.

Anyway. Enough waxing poetical.

I'm on the hunt myself. Not the wild hunt, though wild it can be - the job hunt. And it has been brutal. Not necessarily brutal due to the potential employers, but because of my father.

I love my father dearly, I do. And I am so grateful for the opportunity to live here with him and my dear Stepmother in their beautiful home. But sometimes, like today, I just can't stand the way he fusses at me.

Ah, c'est la vie.

In about fifteen minutes, I shall brave the horrors of Atlanta rush hour traffic. My destination: Athens. Not the one in Greece. The one about two hours away, that holds my brother and - for this weekend - my mama. I really can't wait to see them. It's always good to be around those who love you unconditionally. Especially when one is feeling so down on oneself.


Okay, folks. I'm going to jet. Smoke a cigarette before climbing into my car and facing the evils of Atlantians behind the wheel. Wish me luck.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Next Time - A Poem

I feel the need to open up (a vein)

And bleed my emotions and

Thoughts across this page

There's so much to say

And I don't have words

To say it in

State again

How much you miss me

And love me

Reassure me that

This fatal attraction

Is non-threatening

I had lunch with a friend


And there was so much to say

And not enough time to say it in

So I

Breathe deep and reel it all in

There's always next time

But next time,

There might not be time

To say so much

And I don't have words

To say it all

State it all

How you miss me

And love me

Reassure me that

This fatal attraction

Is non-threatening

I have an interview to do


And there will be so much to say

And not enough time to say it in

Not enough space to feel in

And I fill in

These bubbles of black ink

That let you know just how honest

I am

Am I so easy

To sum up?

That multiple choice can make this choice

For you

To employ me?

Me? With the outspoken voice

And the need to express every though I commit

Like a guilty conscience riding on my left shoulder

Telling me over and over

To be honest and brave

But there's no time to say

All the myriad of things

I want to say

Need to

To stay


So I

Breathe deep and reel it all in

There's always next time

But next time,

There might not be such a time

All we have is the present

To spit such a rhyme

And combine

These letters and sound into something


Until next time

But next time,

There might not be time

To say so much

And I don't have words

To say it all

Pray it all

Out loud, quiet and still bound

To reassure me

That this fatal attraction

Is life-threatening

And the voice that I hear

It says so much


It doesn't have words to bear

To say it all

To say anything at all


It shows it all

To me in thoughts and visions

And loves me

And assures me


This coming attraction

Is not threatening anything

But the me that could be

I am the change I wish to see

And I am the person

I am gonna be

My life is up to me

And my heart belongs right there

On my sleeve

So next time,

There might not be time

To say too much

But I'll find the words

To say as much

Explain it all

How you make me fall

In love

And your presence

How it is a gift

To have you near

In the present


It is a gift

To be cherished

And you can assure me that

This attraction is ticking

A time bomb

Tricky and tickling

And that's why we're giggling

Because next time,

There will be time

To say much

And words and actions

Will be all

And I'll give my all

To make sure you miss me

And love me

And reassure me that

This attraction

Is not


©2011 ~strawberry-goodness

Monday, September 5, 2011

Mistaken: A Poem


Submit to knee-jerk reactions


like side-kicks

That sit in side-cars

You're the Batman to my Robin

so Submit

For the sake of rhythm

I stem off

Branch off

I'm Unforgiven

So punish me

Punish Me!

Or I'll repeat the crime

And never learn to look both ways

I mistook your charms and zeal

For a safe passage-way

These pinpricks

Awaken me

To these surprising surroundings

That itch and sting

Something fierce and threatening

But I can't touch them

For fear I will contaminate

The wounds

I can't scratch the swelling and the

Tears are welling

But my unclean hands,

These nail-bitten

Pale mitten


Are Dirty

They drip with the residue of your memory

They're stained by the kisses that you gave me

And I mistook

You mouth on mine for something else

A Sanctuary

But pinpricks

Bring me back

To the present

The here and now

And I can hear it now

Hear it

How(?) You sounded

You were so quiet

But seemed so loud

in the darkness

you were everything

Your breath on me

Your hands pull free

My legs from jeans

Peeling off clothing

So we could be


I want you


And I mistook

Your sweet proximity

for something else...

Something else...

And for that,

I apologize.

©2011 ~strawberry-goodness

Dearest D


Are you ignoring me? If so, why? I know I'm being direct but I need to know. It's driving me crazy, like there's a rubik's cube lodged in my brain.

I knew all along that we wouldn't end up together. I knew that going in, and I sure as hell knew it coming out. I still know that. Don't think for even a second that you need to remind me by being so distant and aloof.

Is that why you left for Florida early? Because it doesn't have to be like this. I am capable of healthy boundaries and I would like to be friends. I don't feel like we're friends right now. I feel like you're afraid of me, that you're running away and that there are walls up. It's weird to feel so shut-out from you when we were so close just a few short weeks ago. Just talk to me. I miss you. I want to know what you're filling up your days with and how you feel and what you think about. Just talk to me.

I don't need much, just that.

Do you want me to leave you alone? I can and will. I just want to talk about it first.

I guess I'm just getting a lot of mixed messages and I just would like a little bit of clarification.

There are days and days of silence, and then you'll say something here and there that seems flippant, if that's makes sense. You seem to pick and choose which communiques you respond to when you write back. So are you just busy, or are you confused about how you feel and how to interact with me - which would be preferable, of course since that's how I feel toward you and I would be most capable of sympathizing with that scenario. Or is it something else?

I care about you, Dana. I want to know how much I can show that warmth to you. How close can I be to you?

I don't want to be confused anymore.


Friday, September 2, 2011


Do you ever feel like you could best describe the way you feel at any given moment as a color? I tend to color-code my life, but I also tend to be a bit eccentric - which is why I ask if anyone else does this, instead of assuming that yes, of course you all do. Because that would just be silly. Besides, you know what they say about assumptions...


I feel brown today.

Brown like my hair is brown, which is to say that I am a brunette. Dark rich brown, almost black. Black-brown, I think it's called. Like my Cherokee ancestors before me. I have the Cherokee cheekbones to go with it. When I was little, my cousin Livvie would say that it was "Pocahontas" hair. Or "Cher" hair. I, of course, preferred Pocahontas to Cher. Both then and now.

I feel brown. Brown like my eyes are brown. But not like my father's are brown. His are dark, like espresso. Mine are a mix of his chocolate eyes and my mother's green ones. Green like jade.

I feel brown like the paint on the walls in this house. "Wheat," they call it. I think it looks like "light-brown," but nobody asked me.


My great grandmother died today. Her last name was Brown. We called her Grandma Helen, my brother and I. We are going to her funeral this weekend.

It's not really how I saw myself spending my Labor Day weekend. But nobody asked me.

I heard once that people wait to die. They wait until they can see their loved ones one last time. They wait until after Christmas. A lot of people die after Christmas.

Grandma Helen didn't wait. I wonder if that means she had nothing to wait for? I wonder if she couldn't wait because she was in too much pain? I wonder if she didn't wait because she knew no one would come. I didn't come. No one did. She died alone.

I feel bad.

I feel brown.

Brown like dirty. Brown like wet, muddy earth that stains your clothes and smells like rotting leaves.


Monday, August 22, 2011

The Waterfall's Magic - A Poem

Watching boys jump off cliffs
Hitting water with a sound like breaking glass
Egging them on like I have no fear
But I do
I'm afraid of heights
And in ways,
I'm afraid of you

Safe beyond the realm of the splash zone
Out of reach and out of touch
I'm saying things to him that I won't remember
But I do
Remember thinking them about you

Watching green light filter down
Through tree leaves and over things
Like a liquid haze
A fog descends
A love spell for when this world ends

And the world is dappled green and gold
Like my eyes are in the sunshine
And I try my best to show their colors
In the nighttime
Freckles fade and so do dreams
But magic stayed

And I feel real today
But like a mermaid
Perched and flouncing
Highlights in the forest shade
Daydreams of themes long overplayed

But I feel real today

And the world is dappled green and gold
And slightly gray
The rain comes but we all stay
Huddled up under towels like child's play
Next we'll build a fort and skip away
To play tag like it was yesterday

And I'm watching boys jump off cliffs
And oh so very coy
But boy
How delicious
It is to see you smile

And I feel real today

But the green and golden world
Is turning all gray
And I'm afraid the waterfall of memories
That come as cascades
Will dissipate
I anticipate
Will go away

But I'm egging you on like I have no fear
But I do
I'm afraid of heights
And in ways,
I'm afraid of you

Afraid of what to do without two

So I take a jump off the waterfall
To come to

Cold water washes all the magic away
But then again,
I guess that's what makes it magic anyway
The fact that it doesn't stay

©2011 ~strawberry-goodness

Blueberry Beer - A Poem

I'm staring at the farscape of a waterfall
And there are pitfalls for pitstops along the way
It's been a topsy-turvy sort of day
And I'm growing cold in the summer shade

As my pen snicker-snacks across the page
The light filters down as the sun fades
And even while it's raining it's greenish gray
It's all green, green like I used to be

Filtered down and bottled up into a new me
Pop the top and watch me fill up
Spill over
And foam at the mouth for more

Now I'm glancing side to side as we trip along
This brushy, lush trail on both sides
Craggy rocks and undercroppings fill both eyes
A hushed whisper-rushing water drip-drops past

Shoulder-rubbing, nature-clubbing hypocrisy
I smoke cigarettes with no regrets for apathy
And it's been a sleepy waking-dreamy kind of day
And it's all
Green and
Light and
Sound and

I'm drinking coffee from a can so it's all clear
And now I'm sipping on this blue bottled berry beer
As the light filters down to me, all I can hear
Is water crashing
People laughing
I'm out of here

The water's cold, but so is the beer
And after a few more I'm hoping
It'll kill the fear
A fear of heights is all I'm fighting here
Just so we're clear

So drown my eloquence in froth and foam
Bluberry beer
Then take that leap of faith and swim away
I'm out of here

©2011 ~strawberry-goodness

The Question - A Poem

Why do I suck it up
When it's so hard
To breathe
And these medications
Make it hard to feed

This need

I've lost 10 pounds
Since I went back
Doctoral solutions
To permanent problems
Outliers and chandeliers
I'll be cavalier
About this cancer
That they can't cut out
Of me

And all I want to know is:
What are the right questions
To ask, anyway?
All I know is this need to feed

And I bite nails until they bleed
Smoke cigarettes I can't speed;
I've lost 10 minutes since I went back
Out back
My own walk of shame
For this nicotine game
And the nurse wants me to quit
But these environmental
Attributions keep this cancer at bay

And all I want to know is:
What are the right questions
To ask, anyway?
All I know is this need to feed

And I lick lips until they stick
And they're too dry to smack
I'm too quick to beg a bitch-slap
Into a come-back
I've lost 10 seconds since I went back
And my friends want me to stop
But these emotions
Cause the cancer to grow inside of me

And all I want to know is:
What are the right questions
To ask, anyway?
All I know is this need to feed

And that I need another cigarette
To put my aching mind at ease

©2011 ~strawberry-goodness

Tangled - A Poem

Tangled up in you, in all that blue
And I think my thoughts are jumbled
'Cause I giggled when we stumbled
And I feel like my feelings are too true
'Cause I told you when I was into you

And now I don't want to be
Any other way
But tango in that tangle
I want to wriggle, writhe and wrangle
Listen to the sounds with eyes closed
And I would purr if I could
So I should
And I would what I should
If I could with you
If you would

And we're tangled
And I'm strangled with need
Learning the lines of your face
And my fingertips tingle
'Cause your touch, it lingers
And mingles with these heated

And it's so easy to get caught up
And I think I'm too easy
'Cause it's more natural
Than my ragged breathing
And the softness
Send tempests
Through my veins

And it's like a puzzle we were missing
Pieces to
Pieces like me and you
And now it's raining down
And now we're untangling, rearranging
And I swear I'm managing

I don't like surprises
Or rainstorms
But I'm managing
Forgotten topographies
Rewritten biographies
Hindsight is 20/20

And I don't want it
Any other way
I want to wriggle and to wrangle
Listen to the sounds
Like raindrops
And waterfalls
With eyes closed
Mouth gasping

And I don't want it
Any other way
I want to snuggle and tango
To sigh and to mangle
These bedsheets are tangled
And I should what I could
If you would what you want
'Cause I want to

Be tangled with you

©2011 ~strawberry-goodness

Sunday, August 21, 2011

The First Night - A Poem

I thought it was Friday night
T.G.I. Eff it like Katy Perry
But it was the night after,
Like the calendar says, so --
The morning started slow,
Guys and Dolls like Clara-Beara
It was the time of day that makes you
The Uncharted
Blood sugar levels low,
Like dem jeans,
Let's get retarded
And I'm medicated, down and out
Three times a day, but four has started
And the party's just gettin' started,
I'm sick of gettin' carded
But I'm a little too late,
Too little to go, so fuck it

And I thought it was Friday night
The night you showed up
And the videogames are now a blur
Arcades and Barcades and barricades and castle-walls
Are crashing down
And the pitter-patter of little-big feet down the hall
Like rain on my Honda's windshield at night
With head-lights on,
And the laughter is now a blur, all smiles and dimples
Shining eyes, passing lanes, dotted lines, boundaries and timelines
Too drunk to drive but I swear I'm just right
For tonight

I thought it was Friday night
Partying it up like Pink
So raise your glass, fellow rockstars
And shake your ass like it's your right, sirs
And let's forget to dance to the night away
Forget to remember anything and just be
We'll let it happen like a slow burn
My heart's an ember like a slow burn
And our love was like an engine's purr
With some false starts
So help me fan the flames with disco and cigarette butts
Collect the kisses in the hallway
Slip-n-slide, back and forth
The kind of kisses that linger and melt away
Like sugar in the coffee of the morning after

And I thought it was Friday night
And the music beat down to my soul
Through my toes and the soles of my feet
Feel the beat
And it made me wriggle 'till I fell apart
I just want to know how to hold my heart
So raise your face to mine and don't let go
Too soon
And let's live in the present since that's all we have
To go on
Go on for so long
And let's remember what we both forgot
Since the history is still in the making
And I know we're both sorry we never asked

But I thought it was Friday night
And I don't mind being wrong
I loved every minute of it
Forgetting and memorizing
The days of the week and how to breathe
And how to make my legs shake
Sweating all over
And I swear I thought it was over
We were over
Let go and pull it all in
Like letting rain fall on my upturned face
Pitter-patter like my pounding heart
And my heartbeats
Are in time now
With the music of the stars
Like a metronome
To this soundtrack of heartstrings and sweet nothings
That mean everything
To me

And now I know it was Saturday
And I don't mind looking back
Writing down everything I can remember
Because I loved every minute of it
Every mile of the journey
And I don't want to forget the past
Our past
But I do want to escape the present
'Cause I swear that I thought it was over
We were over
But I don't mind being wrong
I just hope against hope that you feel the same
Turn these pages with my shaking hand
While I avert my hazel eyes
Of forgetting to be jaded
Wading in
Up to the waist
Even though the water's freezing
The water's fine
And I'll always remember that it was Saturday night
And the way it felt
And the way we were
Just don't go chasing waterfalls
Stick to the rivers and the lakes that I'm used to
Like Saturday night
feeling so right
feeling so much
feeling all night
Just remember, I'll be alright
Holding on to the memory of that night.

©2011 ~strawberry-goodness

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

What Do U(U) Believe?

This is a pretty simplistic breakdown for many of my friends who are considering Unitarian-Universalism; or those who I think might fit comfortably here; or for those who are just curious. What I love is that you bring your past; your history; your memories; your dreams; and become part of something larger. Christians, Jews, Buddhists, humanists, and those who have a theology harder to label, break bread in this church. No creed is higher than communion.

My church isn't offering you salvation, spiritual or otherwise. My church is not going to give you the answers. What we can do, however, is help you find the tools to save and free yourself as much as you can. That's the miracle of Unitarian-Universalism.


We, the member congregations of the Unitarian Universalist Association, covenant to affirm and promote:

-The inherent worth and dignity of every person

-Justice, equity, and compassion in human relations

-Acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations

-A free and responsible search for truth and meaning

-The right of conscience and the use of the democratic process within our congregations and in society at large

-The goal of world community with peace, liberty, and justice for all

-Respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part.

The living tradition we share draws from many sources:

-Direct experience of that transcending mystery and wonder, affirmed in all cultures, which moves us to a renewal of the spirit and an openness to the forces which create and uphold life

-Words and deeds of prophetic women and men which challenge us to confront powers and structures of evil with justice, compassion, and the transforming power of love

-Wisdom from the world's religions which inspires us in our ethical and spiritual life

-Jewish and Christian teachings which call us to respond to God's love by loving our neighbors as ourselves

-Humanist teachings which counsel us to heed the guidance of reason and the results of science, and warn us against idolatries of the mind and spirit.

-Spiritual teachings of Earth-centered traditions which celebrate the sacred circle of life and instruct us to live in harmony with the rhythms of nature.

Grateful for the religious pluralism which enriches and ennobles our faith, we are inspired to deepen our understanding and expand our vision. As free congregations we enter into this covenant, promising to one another our mutual trust and respect.

The Unitarian Universalist Association shall devote its resources to and exercise its corporate powers for religious, educational, and humanitarian purposes. The primary purpose of the Association is to serve the needs of its member congregations, organize new congregations, extend and strengthen Unitarian Universalist institutions and implement its principles.


WE BELIEVE in the freedom of religious expression. All individuals should be encouraged to develop their own personal theologies, and to present openly their religious opinions without fear of censure or reprisal.

WE BELIEVE in the toleration of religious ideas. All religions, in every age and culture, possess not only intrinsic merit, but also potential value for those who have learned the art of listening.

WE BELIEVE in the authority of reason and conscience. The ultimate arbiter in religion is not a church, nor a document, nor an official, but the personal choice and decision of the individual.

WE BELIEVE in the never-ending search for Truth. If the mind and heart are truly free and open, the revelations that appear to the human spirit are infinitely numerous, eternally fruitful, and wondrously exciting.

WE BELIEVE in the unity of experience. There is no fundamental conflict between faith and knowledge, religion and the world, the sacred and the secular, since they all have their source in the same reality.WE BELIEVE in the worth and dignity of each human being. All people on earth have an equal claim to life, liberty, and justice-and no idea, ideal, or philosophy is superior to a single human life.

WE BELIEVE in the ethical application of religion. Good works are the natural product of a good faith, the evidence of an inner grace that finds completion in social and community involvement.

WE BELIEVE in the motive force of love. The governing principle in human relationships is the principle of love, which always seeks the welfare of others and never seeks to hurt or destroy.WE BELIEVE in the necessity of the democratic process. Records are open to scrutiny, elections are open to members, and ideas are open to criticism-so that people might govern themselves.

WE BELIEVE in the importance of a religious community. The validation of experience requires the confirmation of peers, who provide a critical platform along with a network of mutual support.

Friday, June 24, 2011

For BJ - A Poem

I wish I could describe

The wary smile

wavy hair

The curiosity,

you stare

I wish I could describe

The kindness

In those blind eyes



I'm certain I could

If I had the words

the meter

And some kick ass rhymes

But just being me

I work with what I have

I have:

a good feeling

and I have some face-time

Should I take this time

To mention facebook?

Because I'm glad to find

You in my friend requests

And it makes me smile

When I see a new "poke"

from you

I'd like to take this time

To tell you all

How talented and kind

This kid is

I'd like to find the rhyme

To make it worth his while

For stopping by

I'd like to pantomime

But can't

So I'll just take this time

To say

"Thank you"

For stopping by

I hope I've done some justice

To such a special guy

©2011 ~strawberry-goodness

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Dresser - A Poem

Dress her up in sheets of linen
Or yards of silk
And moan

Paint her face in blacks and reds
Or purple greens

Pierce her lobes with shards
Or strands
Of crystal glass
Or bone

Watch the way they twinkle
Those dancing gem-like

As through her longish straightish hair
Those beaded tributes glare

That raven brown
And ravenous black
That seems to curl its own
And back
That seems too stark against that white
That white gleams naked in moonlight

Wrapped up in sheets of linen

And all the while dress her up
Dresser, chest or night - stand up
In cleanish new attire, up

All so she can see the girl
Who safely lives inside
Reside in all the eyes
Of all the passive passerby

So dress her up in skirts of plaid
Or jeans or corduroy

Paint her face in neutral tones
Or shimmer golds

Hang from her ears
Those crystal tears
Cried from an angel's head

All the while just to see
What someone once had said

All the while just to be
What someone once would bed

All the while
Girl will cry
And listen to her head

That raven brown
And ravenous black
That seems to curl its own
And back
That seems too stark against that white
That white gleams naked in moonlight

Twisted up in sheets of linen

And so it seems we deem this dream
Or so it seems

Instead of dress let us digress
And quickly fix this with duress

Perhaps less is more
In keeping score

Of all her beauty hidden
Sacred strange and bidden

And so we'll dress her
Dress her down
Dresser, chest or nightstand clown

In birthday suit


So she can see the girl in me
Who safely lives inside
Reside in these two sets of eyes
Behind the mirror


So to sum up it quickly seems
I've nothing left to hide
The girl within is now without
No matter what I've tried

No matter what I've painted, pierced or worn
Within a day
It seems to be I'm always me
No matter what's portrayed

So dress me up in sheets of linen
Or yards of silk
Or none

Paint my face in blacks and reds
Or goldish undertones

Pierce her lobes
Or not at all
This lesson's almost done

And watch the way I twinkle
Gem-like and alone

Through longish hair
These hazels stare
At Hazel's mirrored pair

And she can see
As I can be
The girl who lives inside

Despite the changes
Or rearrangements

Of anything
We do to our outside

©2011 ~strawberry-goodness

Friday, May 27, 2011


Employment Security Commission. Yep. Unemployed. Lost my job on May 13th. Yeah, that's right -- FRIDAY THE FRIKKIN' 13TH. I think they planned it that way.

I'll be uploading some old stuff I've written over the next while. I found it during one of my house-cleaning fits. I've been having alot of those recently, as I have little else to do but clean and organize and re-organize.

The thing is, I don't have dates for a lot of these, but I know that this one is from sometime last year. I was working at CPU2, still going to the callcenter and back because I wasn't an At-Home Agent yet when this was written... so sometime between June and October.

Here goes.

"I did the dishes for ya, hon
I'm sorry I ain't got the strength
to do no more.

It's hard to scrub the floors
when you feel like crawling
across them
instead of pushing a broom.

And I'm sorry I forgot to clean
the room we share each night,
But it's hard to make the bed
I can't get out of."

I ran across this in some old notebook and thought it described what I was feeling up until a few weeks ago. Depression is a horrid thing. At least before I always had my voice, though. I could write, draw, explain what it was like. That helped. This time, it was suffocating. I was mute with pain.

I'm glad to re-emerge. To escape.


Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Some things to think about

I started the day by reading Lolita. Made it a quarter of the way through the book before breakfast. Thank you, Guy Gunn. Once I got past the pedophilia and approached it from a somewhat neutral stance, I found that it's actually a beautiful work of literature. I love the feel of the book, if not the content. I am intrigued, even if it is morbid subject matter. I love being able to peer into his mind. I tell you this to put you in tune with my headspace today.

In an eerie turn of events, I just finished reading the Kiki Kannibal article in Rolling Stone. There is alot there that I'd like to touch on, but one of the things that really got to me was the statutory rape. And I... really have no adequate words for that. But I feel incited and I must attempt to speak out. Please bear with me here.

Firstly -- Kiki, as a part of the hive-mind that is Internet, I am sorry. No one deserves to be treated that way. You are beautiful and unique and special and I respect and honor you. Sending healing thoughts. <3

I was tormented when I dressed differently, although nowhere nearly as badly. I was bullied in school, on the streets on Asheville by passerby, and by fellow Wal-mart shoppers for my clothing choices. I never had to deal with hate mail or threats or death, and I was still frazzled. I can't believe what you've been through.

I guess part of what saved me was a lack of internet exposure in high school. I didn't even join Facebook until I was in college. By then, I was legal and I guess the internet mobs take more pride in tormenting the underage crowd.

I just feel so grateful for the beauty and grace I find during times like this. As something of faith, I am thankful for the principles we live by in Unitarian Universalism. Respect and dignity. Inherent respect and dignity. That one has really been with me all day.

Another thing I'd like to mention is that in times like these it is so crucial to have an icon like Gaga supporting individuality, sexuality, sensuality, safety, self-efficacy and flying the freak flag high and proud.

Women have long fought injustices based on sex and gender. There are all sorts of issues to contend with after breaching that subject - illegal or indecent toplessness, rape trials based on the provocative clothing of the victim, etc. In my opinion, we should be safe to walk around naked in the street without rebuke or assault. No one should have to suffer threats of violence or worse because of what they wear, how much skin they show, or how unusual they look. Diversity is beautiful. The human body is beautiful and worthy of respect and awe.

Dressing differently, even sexually or scantily is not basis for torment or assault. It is artistic and brave and awesome and as someone who gave it up because of all the criticism, I must also say that it is damn difficult. There is a reason that kids dress like the group they hang out with - it makes it easier. I didn't have anyone to match with, and neither did Kiki.

I guess the last thing I wanted to say was that with all this talk about Bin Laden and Obama and the Tea Party and a few months ago all that mess with Jessi Slaughter... I just wanted to speak out against the hate and the shame and the ugliness. I know it doesn't seem connected. Maybe it's not. But can we try to be nicer to each other?

I know this note is disjointed, but I have a lot on my mind and I wanted to bungle my way through this to try and get it all out. I appreciate your thoughts, but please be respectful and sensitive to others in your comments.

Peace, love and strawberries.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Tequila Sunrise

It's been a while since I got up before/with the sunrise. I like it. It's like the whole world is quiet and waiting for the day to officially begin. I mean, there are of course an array of morning noises (ie. bird song, cars on the highway, wind blowing through the boughs of the trees outside, etc) -- but they participate in the feeling of hushed anticipation. Quiet doesn't necessitate silence, after all.

I've been getting up at 7am for the past 3 days now for a(nother) training class at work, and tomorrow is the last day I do so before reverting back to my normal schedule. I will miss the sun. The sun makes me so happy. I love seeing blue skies and feeling warmth radiate across my skin when I drive to work with the sunroof back and the windows down. But alas, I am doomed to work graveyard shifts. I have put in for a request to be scheduled earlier in the day so I can get off each night at midnight instead of 2am. Slight improvement.

Poncho has been talking about doing a travel blog, documenting the two of us on exploits and adventures. I think it would be fun to start here in Asheville and then spiral outward from there. What do y'all think?

Monday, January 24, 2011


As in one who prays, but also the act itself.

I wanted to try to put one into words before bedding down for the night, but the words elude me. I thought that maybe typing it out would enable the process of solidifying these wisps of faith, but I seem to be coming up blank here as well.


I wish for dreams
To tuck me in
To wingtips clear
And lucid

I sigh for nights
So out of sight
I can't pretend the motives

I can't delay
This game we play
But I can stack the deck

I wish for dreams
To hide and find

I wish for dreams
To dust and lust

Just get me off
This shelf

While I slumber
Pulled asunder

Let me rest in peace
At ease

If I'm not to have
My dreams

Let me rest in peace
At least

Friday, January 21, 2011


It's been 3 hours since I woke up and I've had the equivalent of 2 glasses of wine in one glass.

Poncho and I have been fighting. Things are looking grim. I'm depressed and the wine has helped to take the edge off - don't you dare tell me about how it's a "depressant". I know. It still helps.

I'm considering buying a pack of smokes. Just to, you know, get away from it all for a while. I'm too damn responsible. I need to lighten up, have fun. I'm in my early-mid twenties, for chrissake.

Here's to the future. Whatever the hell it brings.

Seriously, though: if you could keep us in your thoughts and prayers, I'd really appreciate it. I need all the well-wishing I can get.

A Collection of Poems Written in January

I am dreaming of a world
Dewey mists and snowflake-swirled
Swing ajoined through the trees
Giddy, dizzy as you please
Watchin' stars pop out the eaves
Breath as fog and winded leaves
And with words caressed I'll stay
Safe as houses on display
Undressed and stressed (like syllables
at play)
I am off to bed to dream
About Maple, Birch and Hemlock
Away above the cloud-tops
Where I can see the snowdrifts
Alight with newborn motives
I am off to bed to dream
About my cotton-candy sunrise
Pink plays between the fine lines
Along the blood-red backbone's spine
And how divine (I feel) to find
Colors blending -- so sublime
These snow-dusted peaks are mine