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
Illogically

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
Simplification
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

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

Curses

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

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

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.

Sigh.

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.

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

Today

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

Today

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

Sane

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

Sublime

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

But

It doesn't have words to bear

To say it all

To say anything at all

Instead

It shows it all

To me in thoughts and visions

And loves me

And assures me

That

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

How

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

Threatening...anything.

©2011 ~strawberry-goodness

Mistaken: A Poem

Pinpricks

Submit to knee-jerk reactions

Contractions

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

Fingertips

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

(((Closer)))

I want you

closer...

And I mistook

Your sweet proximity

for something else...

Something else...


And for that,

I apologize.

©2011 ~strawberry-goodness

Dearest D

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.

~M