Easy…
Tag: love
Full Moon Rises
Soul wanders
through the darkness
searching for your light.
It floats blind and lost
searching behind
the stars each night.
Heat remembered
frustrates and
fuels the fire.
Full moon rises
sparking rebellion,
tears and desire.
I want! I want!
soul screams out
to the empty night.
Its over. It’s over.
Must be accepted
by each daylight.
I Can
I can bring the rain when there is a drought.
I can change the color of the clouds
using the sun to turn them inside out.
I can change the leaves on an orange tree
turn them to red in shades of fifty-three.
But, I can’t make you love me.
Love is…
My daughter sent me a picture of a rainbow and I told her it was awesome, that I love rainbows.
She said, “You silly gurl, you are a rainbow.”
Happy 64th To Me! (Last August)
A Tulsa Promenade Dillard’s Birthday
Happy 64th To Me!
Every year since I turned 60, I try to do something special for myself on my birthday.
This year, I spent the entire day at Dillard’s where my daughter, Jodie Lynne, works and we shopped during her lunch hour.
Of course, after she went back to work, I continued shopping!
Luckily, I love the clearance racks but a few full price items did sneak into my pile, lol.
After I wore my feet out shopping, Jodie convinced me to walk over and let the Edge Beauty Tulsa women give me a makeover.
She really did have to convince me because for some reason I felt shy about it…so thank you, Jodie Lynne.
It was an incredible experience!
First of all, if you know me, you know I would not want a normal makeover.
I wanted a pink makeover and my makeup artist Kalee delivered to the max.
The look began as a pink makeover but as it evolved, I decided I wanted to be a pink fairy and Kalee just went with the creative flow, giving me quick peeks and playing with the colors…
She was incredible to work with and so intuitive and open to what I wanted.
She didn’t act like she was working at all because she loves doing makeup so much that it was like she was playing, so we both had a blast and I felt like it was girl’s night out with a best friend.
Of course, the makeover ended with a glitter brush splash.
Kalee said I was like a ray of sunshine and that I had made her day. Wow. I can’t tell you how long it’s been since someone said that to me…
You know, I honestly haven’t been doing a lot of shining so the entire mother-daughter, Dillard’s Edge makeover with Kalee, shopping for myself experience brought out the sun-shiny part of me that’s been hiding.
And there’s a really funny thing about age. Sometimes it shows to the max and sometimes my age just seems to drop away and I become just me, just a woman who accepts herself no matter her age or her wrinkles.
By the time Jodie and I got home, I felt high as a pink cloud in the sky.
I put on one of my new outfits and some of Jodie’s very high heels, even though I had to squeeze a crippled foot into one of them. I also wore my awesome pink bracelet, a present from my best friend, Michelle Marie.
Jodie took pictures of me and I took selfies with her and we had a picture party.
Now, I have proof that I still know how to shine.
All I have to do is let go and play.
Huge thanks to all who were involved starting with Athena, who babysat Cole and Jonas, my grandsons and took them to play laser tag and to McDonald’s, freeing me to play.
Triple huge thanks to Jodie Lynne and Kalee.
And I cannot forget to thank all the wonderful people I met at Dillard’s as I flitted through the Cosmetics Department, meeting Jodie’s coworkers and her managers.
I also was blessed to have two grandsons with me to help celebrate that evening.
My ten-year-old grandson Cole had come to visit his Papa and me in NH for the summer.
He came the first week of June and I brought him home to Oklahoma this week.
We almost made our visit last until our birthdays, but we had to celebrate a bit early. Mine is August 11th and his is August 10th.
Usually we split the difference and eat our carrot cake at midnight on the 10th.
We have spent the last few days at his Aunt Jodie’s and Athena’s house with his cousin Jonas and last night we celebrated three August birthdays.
We bought enough cake for the two non-birthday people (Jodie and Jonas) because it just seemed like the right thing to do.
I’m glad we did that because I ate the leftover chocolate cake this morning!
Cole’s dad picked him up this morning and they hugged forever.
When I got home to New Hampshire, my husband took me out for a seafood dinner, so all in all…
I never plan my birthday, I just let it unfold and this was one of the best and hopefully, I have many more to come.
Choices
She started to think about what she wanted to experience before she died and it went like this…she wanted to be made love to like he had never seen her before and she was the most precious thing in the world that he could ever touch or possess.
She wanted him to say her smile made his day and lit up his world.
She wanted him to hold her as he was sleeping, wrapped all around her and never letting go all night.
She wanted him to hold her as he was sleeping, wrapped all around her and never letting go all night.
She wanted to dance around the bedroom with him at midnight. Dancing slow, to a country love song, held so tight she could barely breathe, dancing with the man she loved as he whispered, “I am so sorry, I didn’t know how much I loved you,” in her ear.
She wanted to be loved like that once more before she died.
Your love is raw…
I thought my love was true…so why do I always fantasize
about leaving us behind, running away from me loving you?
Your love is raw, it is bloody, it is deep.
Your warm, obsessive blanket covers my eyes, my empty girly head,
shielding me, protecting me at night, yet not heavy enough to let me sleep.
Lying wide-eyed in our king-size bed, the buried fights numb my head.
Your love, my shroud, my bad, my dead.
You call me to your side each night, honey, come to sleep.
Not unlike a small child, I run to you and snuggle under my pink blanket
on my corner of the mattress awake in the dark long after you snore.
Into the dawn I weep, tears leaving their dirty marks.
The weight of your need to possess me and my need for you cements my life.
It this all I’ll ever feel, is this all I’ll ever be, your woman, your girl, your wife?
Your need is soft, it is strong, it is rough, it is binding, it is smothering, it is fluff.
Your need has taken over my life which doesn’t even make any sense.
Becoming nothing, wanting something, I sit and scour my mind, trying to find myself.
Can I take care of me, this woman, this girl who will not speak?
Standing on the outside, looking through the tinted glass of our storm door.
I don’t want to come inside. Oh yes, I am sure.
Am I running from us because of our today or am I running from our pain-filled past?
I don’t know anymore.
No place left to hide.
Your love surrounds me, it saves me, until it drowns me.
Your love is raw, it is bloody, it is deep.
I Want
I want to catch a snowflake
and send it straight to you
wrapped in icy sleet.
I want to shake the stars
scattering fiery sparks
until you remember our heat.
I want to chase the moon
following its midnight map
until the beams lead me to you.
I want to ease this heartbreak
returning my soul to a time
when my color wasn’t blue.
Moments…
My grandson, Cole, last summer.
Silence Whispers
Cherish…
THINGS I WISH I’D NEVER SAID TO MY DAUGHTERS
You have to wear a bra!
You’re too young to shave your legs and I don’t care if all the other girls your age are doing it!
I read your diary. We need to talk.
Yes, there are microphones hidden in your barrettes!
If you didn’t take my green eye shadow, then why are your eyelids green?
I’m gonna kill you!
I’m your mother and your father!
Take down those rock posters or I’ll tear them down!
I don’t believe you.
Never let your husband see you without your make-up on or your hair a mess!
Don’t ever let him see you in the green face mask!
You have to try harder and look better, after you’re married.
Cook him a big breakfast and have his supper ready when he comes in from work.
Are you gonna let him get up and make his own coffee?
Tough luck, life isn’t fair!
THINGS I WISH I’D SAID EVERYDAY
I love you.
Let’s all go out and play.
I don’t care if you make a mess!
Go to college and get a degree, before you have kids.
My Grandson Brought Me Butterflies
When I lived in Florida, I had hundreds of caterpillars and butterflies living in my Passion flowers.
My greatest pleasure in the morning was going out to see them on the porch screen waiting for me.
I know it’s hard to believe, but if you had seen their little faces pressed up to the screen waiting for me, you would believe.
I would whisper softly to them and they would land on me and land in front of me.
They would hold still and pose for pictures and if you know butterflies, you know they don’t hold still.
We moved back to New England almost three years ago and since then, I have been in short supply of butterflies. I’ve maybe seen five and they were tiny white ones.
My grandson Cole came in June to spend the summer with us. He’s been here for about three weeks and I have seen five or six huge yellow and black butterflies flying by my gardens, even doing flybys as I sit on my porch.
Yesterday, one flew right over my shoulder.
When I lived in Florida, I was known as the Butterfly Whisperer because they would land on me and pose for pictures.
Here in New Hampshire I have been the Butterfly Misser, but no more.
The butterfly drought is over.
Thank you, Cole.
You brought me butterflies.
Thank you, Michelle Marie for the art!
I Found Elvis in Oklahoma
I found Elvis in Oklahoma at the mall.
He sang to me about his Heartbreak Hotel
and I thought he’d slip me the key to his room
but Elvis, he just sang to me, that’s all.
He stayed alive long enough to say,
“What do you want with a mannequin anyway?”
I replied, “I love a man who doesn’t talk much,
who has nothing mean or bossy to say.”
“Well, ma’am,” he sighed,
“You ain’t got no grilled
banana/peanut butter sandwiches
in your hand and no offense, but
I’m dead and your hair is turning gray.”
Peter Pan
Peter Pan broke me.
He flew me among the stars.
He kissed me till I was dizzy.
He showed me Jupiter and Mars.
Then…he let go of my hand.
Peter Pan, you were just a little boy
I stupidly mistook for a man,
yet, here I still sit at my window.
Oh Peter, Peter Pan.
Untie Time
I wish I could untie time
rip it to shreds and then
put it all back together again
without the grief and the tears.
Throw away the bloody pieces
no… bury them in the ground
where they will never see
the light of present year.
Never a chance to beat me.
Never a chance to bind my soul.
No hands rebound…no, no.
Treacherous threads of minutes
Woven through my torn flesh,
Taking all, time imposed her limits.
My bounty ticked away so quickly
I couldn’t even catch my breath
My babies are grown, am I free?
Have I passed the maternal test?
I wish I could untie time.
I wish I could untie time.
Wishing You A Fairy Good Day
Wishing You a Fairy Good Day
Memory Clutter
I was finally in the mood to start some spring cleaning and I decided to begin with my office.
As I cleaned, I realized why I held on to so many mementos and gifts from the people I love.
It wasn’t the actual notes or the drawings, it wasn’t the colorful gift bags with ribbons and bows that captivated me.
No, what I was struggling to fit into this small room, aside from computers, printers, writing, books, CDs, tapes and boxes of pictures were the moments when the gifts had been created and given.
I wanted back the happiness and the love in each child’s face when they had handed the gifts to me.
The pride in my mother’s eyes when she handed me her handmade crafts and the warmth of my sister’s hugs, the memories remained in the gifts.
After so many years, these items still triggered every emotion imaginable.
The metal sculpture my twenty-five year-old grandson welded for me when he was twelve, a green pipe with a bowl.
It had made my teenage son laugh so hard because he said it looked like a bong.
“Bong?” I’d asked. He’d laughed some more.
The toys from McDonald’s that my grandson loved to give me for presents. The man who spun like a top but could never stand up, the mermaid that he took for me when he could have had a GI Joe, into the Goodwill bag they went, but my hand hovered over a miniature Blue Fairy.
I remembered watching Artificial Intelligence over and over with my grandson and he was so proud when he found me the Blue Fairy.
The movie was about a little robot boy who wanted to be a real boy and he searched for the Blue Fairy to help him.
I couldn’t drop the Blue Fairy in the bag. Four out of five is pretty good, right?
The huge finger paintings with crackling paint. My once tiny granddaughter’s handprints with mine certainly had to stay.
The plastic sunflower my toddler grandson had presented to me…running up to me with his little fist closed tight around a treasure, he had opened his little fingers to present the treasure. “Flower,” he’d said, full of pride. When I saw it was plastic, I knew I’d keep it forever.
The poster created by pain and love that my baby sister presented to me the day after my suicide attempt twenty-eight years ago, that did go into the trash.
I pulled off the pictures, but the memory of that day and how much I’d hurt my family still burned.
Huge envelopes and boxes for each of my four kids and boxes for half of my fifteen grandkids.
What should stay, what should go?
Would they remember the objects and would the objects mean to them what they meant to me?
Would my son and daughter clean out all this junk after I was gone, moaning at my eccentric, hoarding habits? I didn’t know.
I set the bag of donations aside so I could repack it. Another box to be saved.
I just couldn’t part with any of it right now, but I could clean another room tonight.
Who knew spring cleaning could be so emotional?
Pink heart spot
Inspired by Michelle Marie
Dear God,
when I was down for the count
you never gave up on me
you always reached for my hand
offering to set my spirit free
when grief shoved every one away
you loved me with no conditions
and you never left my side
loving me with no exceptions
i fell into a well, dark and deep
there was no rope to be found
you lifted me out and calmly
set me back on solid ground
you whispered, you don’t need that
when I used drugs to numb the pain
my child just set that down
and you washed me clean with rain
on the darkest days you colored
pink behind the black clouds
you covered me in your grace
your love infinite, it has no bounds
you knew what was best for me
sad when I embraced the worst
you promised me i was loved
when all i felt was cursed
when I screamed, I cannot make it
i heard you whisper, yes my child you can
open your heart and reach out for me
oh child, please just take my hand
despite the days and nights I wasted
you simply gave me more
gently laying your hand upon my head
while i kicked and screamed on the floor
i never would have made it
without you holding on to me
stubborn child i placed myself in chains
a prisoner of self until you set me free
Not Named Us Love…
Perhaps if we had not named us Love
if we had just let emotions run free
we’d still be snuggled side-by-side
beneath the magic of you and me.
No expectations, no promises
just the touch of wanting hands
needs flowing and unbroken
uncrippled by Love’s demands.
Perhaps if we had not named us Love…
Inspired by https://rebeccapells.com/2017/03/01/letting-go/
Love Blooms…
Love isn’t and love doesn’t
I’m not sure what love is.
I tried to write what I knew about love and I didn’t come up with a very long list.
So, I’m going to tell you what I do know.
I know what love isn’t and what love doesn’t.
Love is not the flush you get from your head to your toes when you meet someone who sparks your pheromones. Walk away or get burned. That’s lust.
Love is not the tingle you get between your legs when you see Sam Elliott in white briefs. Again, lust.
Love is not orgasm after orgasm. You could get that from a stranger who triggered your pheromones. Lust, again.
Love doesn’t manipulate, control and lie.
Love doesn’t run away emotionally and physically when times are hard.
Love doesn’t throw family or friends away if they screw up.
Love doesn’t hold you down by convincing you that you can’t do anything right, so you might as well give up before you even start.
Love doesn’t bind you in barbed wire because it’s afraid of losing you.
Love doesn’t lock you in because it’s afraid to let you out, afraid that somebody else might tempt you.
Love doesn’t control you by controlling your access to money.
Love doesn’t hit you or slap you.
Love isn’t cruel or verbally abusive.
Love doesn’t make you feel dead inside.
Love doesn’t care if you are pretty or if you have big boobs, gorgeous hair and a tiny waist.
Love doesn’t make you less…
Love doesn’t stand you up.
Love doesn’t break you into a million pieces.
Love isn’t a game of tug and war.
Love doesn’t capture your heart just to break it.
Love isn’t the presents you buy her after you made her cry.
Love doesn’t always last forever.
Mad Men & Crazy Women
My sisters and I, we like to love Mad Men. Seriously.
We are Crazy Women.
The Mad Men we love are always mad at the world and we spend way too much valuable time trying to make them calm and happy…
We are old-fashioned, cooking and cleaning while working full-time, loving our man all night, kinda women.
It doesn’t help very much.
Turns out Mad Men don’t want the all night loving after they get you. They are too busy being Mad at you.
But Mad Men don’t always tell you when they’re Mad…they just make you pay in a million little ways and then tell you it’s your fault.
Can you say Gaslight?
The Mad Men think everything revolves around them and I’m being brutally honest here, Crazy Women agree.
Splitting up is as common as Full Moons in our homes.
We certainly know how to leave, we just don’t know how to stay gone, so reuniting is also on our agendas just as often.
Fight. Cry. Talk. Don’t talk. Pack. Leave. Talk every night for hours. Agree on a fresh start. Pack up. Go home. Unpack. Pack. Leave.
We put up with a bunch of bullshit, but luckily the Mad Men are all different, so our phone calls and visits never get boring.
We got rid of the Mad Men who hit many years ago. I give us credit for that.
However, there are thousands of ways to hurt another human being without hitting them.
We watched our mom maneuver this same road with our dad, a truly certifiable Mad Man, and we vowed that we’d never marry a man like him.
But we did.
We are not weak women.
We are strong, intelligent, creative, loving, caring, beautiful women.
But once we fall in love, we give of ourselves until we break and we do not accept defeat gracefully.
My dad begged my mom to leave him before he killed her in a drunken stupor, which he was working on every night, the killing and the stupor.
He would try to wrap the phone cord around her neck and strangle her while my twelve-year-old sister sat on Mom’s lap and stopped him.
My mother’s most famous words were, “Go to bed. your father is not going to kill (or hurt) anyone tonight.”
Our strongest model of reality and she told us we were safe when we were not safe.
Dad even stood over our beds with his hunting rifle now and then. Pondering killing us.
Reality has been confusing for us, at best.
As young girls, we all had a turn sleeping in front of Mom’s bedroom door trying to listen under the crack to see if she was still breathing.
If dad got quiet, she would say, “Go to bed, Ray.”
You would have thought she’d stuck a hot poker in his side because those words would spur the Mad Man on for another hour.
When I write it down and then read it back, it sounds insane and it was, but that was how we lived.
My dad would rant and rave until the sun came up and then we would all try to go to school and my mom would go to work…
It wasn’t hard to find a better man than my father, but I know for myself it took me a long time to realize that on a core level, I was recreating the dynamics of my childhood home and trying to make it come out right.
Four divorces between us, one of us married the same Mad Man twice, not naming any names, baby sister. I would have married mine twice too, but I never got brave enough to divorce him.
I did leave my Mad Man five times, six if you count spending a few nights (alone) crying in a motel. I think that counts.
Serious enough about not going back to buy my own place to live, twice.
I’m in the second place I bought right now, packing to go back home, again.
My sisters and I, we like to love Mad Men. Seriously.
We are Crazy Women.
Never tamed me…
Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie 
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