Thursday, May 26, 2016

Must Be Funny

So I’m not a millionaire yet, in fact this month is really tight, I had a budget for a little more money than what I’m bringing in right now so with that and the fact that my microwave broke I’m out about 300 dollars. 

I Say; “don’t try to steal from my house I ain’t got nothin’.”

So now I can’t do all the things I did last month and the month before. I can’t do all the things I did last year and the year before. And I’m going to have to budget differently now. I used to have enough to play with, but now I not only don’t have a lot to play with ‘Frosty Style’ but I need to take what I would have spent on fancy plates of Pad Thai washed down with mango and vodka and put it into my savings for a while there’s going to be a bit of a change.

I am also sacrificing open mic night and gulp the humongous yard sale for the local shelter. Books and shoes and hats and books and shoes and hats L. But I can do it I can be a good girl and get back into financial shape. Physical shape not so much.


It was such a treat to go out with my friends. To support the local restaurants and chat with friends who could afford the fancy nights out. Now I have to reign it in a bit. But I’m ready I played this winter and I needed it. I can go back to being and introvert this summer and taking care of my cash. 

There’s going to be a lot of tea and writing in the porch as the sun sets.

Thursday, May 5, 2016

Glint

The night grows dimmer
The candles glimmer
Listen to my eyes
What they say is wise.

My heart grows stronger
You love me longer
Listen to the eyes
We’ve always been wise.               

Dreams breathe; come alive
I feel them strive
Like a little quake
Keeping me awake.

Reach out and touch me
Feel the light that wants to be
A little like a blanket
With a spark in the dark.

The night grows dimmer
The candles glimmer
Listen to my eyes
What they say is wise.

But what do they say
When the candles play
Cause you’re the one
And only when the days done.

My heart grows stronger
You love me longer
Listen to the eyes
We’ve always been wise.

To the dance in the night
Not afraid of ghost light
Listen to the glimmer

Of my love simmer.


Sunday, May 1, 2016

Cat Mama Knows



Even a cat mama knows “mama I need you now.” The sound of a little voice by the door wanting to get a leash on and go for a walk. “Mama I need treatums now” voice is the same. Tini cries for treats and food. My cat is a child. She’s a very intelligent inside cat and it’s finally spring time. She sees the birds and the squirrels and the sunlight and asks me all day to take her out and I fight it. Probably because I know there is a great possibility she will get really scared or take a few chunks out of me when she sees the neighbours or their dogs. 

But sometimes it turns out to be a perfect little walk around the house, I talk to her and let her lead me she rolls to try to get the leash off and to feel the ground or pavement on her back. We explore, we look for treasures, like poop, or the elusive mouse and squirrel that sometimes dart across our path. For a moment I relax, I stop worrying about all the Sunday chores that need to be done or how much I am going to write or sing today and I’m just with a very insightful and wonderful cat. I like her and what she brings into my life.

Sometimes I’m glad I don’t have children, especially if I think either one of them would be like my cats. I adopted Izzy to save her life and Tini to save mine and that’s what she did today. In her need for attention and outside play she led me out into the sun and onto a mini adventure around a great little houses looking for mouses and making rhymes.

Even a cat mama knows “Mama, you need me now!”

Sunday, April 10, 2016

Bandages



The sun is cold
Reflecting
Off the snow
Off the white hair
Of the cat
Off the black back
Of the calico

The hands are cold
Like salt in
The wounded knuckles
The peppered palm
Of the dying cactus
Prickly
But defenseless
In the frost

Falling snow
Crushes the
Spring heart
The summer dreams
But we succeed
In spring dresses
And winter hats
As bandages to the cold 

Thursday, April 7, 2016

Imaginary Friend

I met her when she was three. I was walking through the neighbourhood, when she looked at me, and smiled. I felt magic once again.

I met her on this place called earth where most people were blind to me or refused to see me. But my reflection in her eyes lit up the street. I hadn’t felt that much admiration since my babies were young and looked at me like I was their best friend. She grabbed my hair and pulled me home.

Oh, but that was many years ago, and now I am fading. The more colourful her hair, the darker her cloths, the more skull earrings she wears, the further away, the duller in colour I become; the more I fade away.

I ask myself  if I will still "be” when she finally stops smiling at me? The last couple weeks it’s only just as she falls asleep and as she wakes up, that I can tell her stories and they create dreams, sometimes she still believes them.

Yesterday, when she was fighting with her mother I reached out and messed with her hair. Her hand went through me and brushed me away like I was the wind, not the friend she used to believe in.

Now she has a boy over, he tells her stories and touches her hair.

Then this afternoon he told her he really liked her best friend. She slammed her bedroom door with me on the outside. I discovered I had faded away so much I could walk right through the door.

For a moment she saw me, and I became more real than I had ever been before. My mane flowing in the breeze from the open window, my tail swooshing, my horn braded and magic.

“Come on lets go for a ride,” I said. She climbed up on my back and I pranced around her room flying over the bed and dancing in front of the mirror. She laughed with joy and I knew it wasn’t the end.

I let her fall on the bed while her mother knocked on the door. Out the window was a rainbow, although there had been no rain, and I knew it was time to follow all the bright colours.

“It’s okay” she said “I got it from here.”


Sunday, April 3, 2016

Little Viking



Louisa pulled on her sneakers and laced them by herself. This was a trick she just learned and she was quite proud of herself. Her favorite blue jeans, she pulled over her laces and she put on a yellow roots sweater that her mother wore when she was young, like her. Handed down from one generation to another.

The spring was just learning to stand on it’s own a child that would still allow snow to fall. Louisa, an only child ran out in the brown, damp spring grass, and felt the dew splash up on her finger tips, and the water seeped into the cloth of her Keds. Her toes woke up as well as her lungs, in the fresh salt air.

The hill in her back yard went up to the heavens. She was running up to the top racing with her imaginary sister racing each other to the top to look down over their little piece of Newfoundland. Before she ever reached the sop she fell forward, she felt her knees fall into the mud and a ripping sound.

She started to cry, “these are my favorite jeans.” She cried digging her fingernails into the dirt to help her stand up. She would have to look at her mother like this. She stood up and her eyes reviewed her knees. They were muddy with a little bit of red blood on them.

Her defeated tears and torn body and spring mud, it all told her to turn around. Upon turning around there was the little stone she tripped over.

“A heart shaped rock.” She heard that these can help you find your way back home, she put it in her pocket and limped down the hill. She rubbed her eyes and her nose and put her muddy fingers through her hair. What little mud was left on her fingers she smeared on the rusty door knob on the way in the house.

“Mommy.” She said and paused not sure if she should cry about the jeans and the blood, or be excited about the rock.

“What happened?” Asked her mother. And Louisa started to cry pointing at the holes in her unicorn jeans.

“That’s Ok little one.” Said mom, “We’ll get you a new pair of jeans, what have you got in your hands?”

“It a rock shaped like a heart.”

“Look it’s been carved.” Said her mother. “We’ll have to take this to the museum.”

“It’s just a rock, let her play with it.” Said her father who walked out the rusty door came back in and cleaned the mud from the door knob with a sigh, and walked back out. “It a rock.”

Let’s go get cleaned up.” Said mom and she took Louisa to the bathroom with the crow foot tub and ran some water, it come out rusty at first and then clean water came through. Louisa got to pour some Epsom Salts in the water and her mother washed her hair and her hands and her knees. When she got out of the tub they put the hello kitty band aids on her knees and dipped the rock in the bath water. Rocks always become magic when their wet, this one had carvings on it and a little bit of red rock in the middle.


Her father poked his head in the bathroom to see them looking at the rock. “It’s a rock,” he said and went back down stairs after washing his hands again.

“Here” whispered her mother. “It’s still early let’s go into town, and see what the museum says…”
Louisa was in a dress by now her little Hello Kitty band aids displaying like tattoos, she was both proud and ashamed of them Unicorns and Hello Kitty she would soon have to grow up, but not today.
The air in the museum was dry and made her cough, not at all like the air on the hill. She didn’t really understand why she was there until her mother told her to hand the rock over to the curator.

“Looks like a Viking rock to me.” Said the lady. “Let me see that…” Louisa handed it over not knowing she wouldn’t get it back.

“May I keep this?” said the lady. Louisa shook her head no and heard her mother say “It’s just a rock.”

The two adults sat and talked for what seemed like an hour and Louisa soon lost interest. An interpreter, with her mother’s permission, took her to see the interactive display they had on the Vikings in the museum.

Her mother met up with her at the display and she held out her hands, wanting her rock back, but her mother just shook her head and said “Lets go get you’re favorite.”

They went home after a trip to pick up new jeans and some take out supper, only to find strangers digging up the back yard with strings and squares and brushes.

“If it’s just a rock,” she asked her mother, “why are so many people interested?”


Monday, March 21, 2016

You are Beautiful. Yes I am

YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. DO YOU BELIEVE THAT? PERHAPS YOU NEED TO BE TOLD MORE OFTEN. HEAR IT EVERYDAY.  
             
How different would my life be if I had someone beside me to tell me he loved me and I was beautiful. I wouldn’t have someone who hurt me. I’m strong enough to know that now. I’m strong enough to attract someone strong. I’m strong enough to wake up everyday and tell myself I’m beautiful.

I’m strong enough to know that it’s missing in my life, the positive affirmations that I’m beautiful and awesome. That I’m loved for being me from the outside. I know I am but I don’t hear it.

So I could either sit here and wait for something to come along. Which I will have to do, but waiting takes so long. So I need another plan until “Mr. Awesome” shows up. I need to believe that every time a friend says hello, they’re saying “You’re awesome” and just because they’re silent doesn’t mean the opposite. 

I need to know that I am weakened a bit not to be hearing, feeling, love from the outside but that I can replace it now that I know it’s missing. Every time I sing, write a poem, or smile, I am telling myself I’m worth it and that I’m awesome.  

Every time the poem gets more complicated or the songs gets harder I’m taking chances on myself. I’m learning to get better.


So I’m off to thinks of ways to tell myself “I Love You.” And remind myself "I’m awesome..." Feel free to list the way’s I’ve missed below.