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.

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,

Entangled

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

Halfway

Between your house and mine

Halfway

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

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,
Mumbling
Never-mind-me
Didn't say anything...
Tears hot like blushing
Burning
Crush-ing

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
Abandon

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

©2011 ~strawberry-goodness

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

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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.

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"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.