When a Poet Writes Immersed in a Toddler’s Universe

You cannot escape me...hehehe!!!

You cannot escape me…hehehe!!!

When a Poet Writes Immersed in a Toddler’s Universe

I just want to write—

a damn poem tonight!

I’m a poet,

and yeah, I know it…

Inspiration seems to be in short supply,

except what is found in this writer’s whine.

Just write, just write—I just want to scream!

Hmm, instead I think—

I’ll just down this bowl of ice cream.

These pasteurized cheese product of rambling rhymes

Simple they are just simply cannot be mine.

I can do better. I think I can-

I think I can, I know I can!

Despite being exposed to too much Thomas the Tank Engine

at my toddler’s hands.

Yes, I am poet.

I am what I am.

A good one too—

even if suffering from reading too many times

the verses of Green Eggs and Ham.

Fertilizer

The following poetic compilation is an incomplete poem I started a year ago. And no, this is not an example of what I would consider my best writing. It is an attempt I made a year ago to re-acquire my voice, and now it serves as my attempt to fertilize my foray into regularly writing and publishing. Though the words of the following poetic thoughts are not as composed to my expectations– the ideas and thoughts are still worth sharing– and will always be there to come back to and play with and fine tune later. Perhaps, they will even seed some poetic inspiration for my readers. One can hope…

Rot, decay–things observed when life leaves astray.

A process initiated by death or an end.

I have witnessed the devastation wrought by this breaking down-

and the resurrected beginnings birthed from such destruction.

Remnants of what was become the fodder of what will be-

the lines between of what was and is are so entwined becoming non-existent

This awareness is not only mine– its so keenly echoed in the mythical account of the Phoenix’s rising and remembered at a serendipitous timing.

Laws of basic Physics prevail: Energy cannot be created or made.

Its source is only transformed…

My Life Poetic– Literally

After re-reading some my favorite poems and remembering the experiences of some the great poetic voices that have come before me, I felt compelled to compose a poetic collage of those poetic moments of experience that  have become relevant in my own actual life experience. And it is only fitting that I felt inspired to write this “homage” of sorts during National Poetry Month…

The following poem is very much  a work in progress–and I can honestly say I am looking forward to this revision process and the possibilities it could transform into.

My Life Poetic– Literally

I dove down into the wreck

And from its depths resurfaced

Alive, exhausted.

Headed into the oven, inhaled its fumes-

Yet pulled out in time

A synchronous timing of oxygenated insight:

The legacy left, an unintentional gift, from another mother’s plight.

Prepared with my flashlight gripped tightly in hand,

And clickity-click heels on my feet-

I un-quietly will find my way out of this night.

See, I have beaten my path on the roads less taken.

I travelled to Babylon, employed as a whore.

Acquired a cumbersome weight, and continued on.

Slouching into Bethlehem, I came to bore my fertile sin.

A “beast” they proclaimed when it arrived.

Still it was mine. I wouldn’t let go-

And I cradled my child close to my breast.

Back on the road and not white-knuckling the steering wheel…

After a much needed rest stop, I’m finally back behind the steering wheel. Even though there may be some challenging parts ahead in my current course, I feel confident my navigational skills will get me where I need to be.

The next phase of my “so-called life” has officially begun…

In October 2011, I could no longer ignore that my marriage was on a destructive course. I had known that the relationship was very strained between my husband and me. However, when my 6-year-old son shared with me the turmoil he was struggling with due to the relationship he had with his dad, I knew a drastic change of course was necessary.

Fortunately, both of my parents were there for me and my children when I actually took the action to leave my husband in November 2011. I had too optimistically hoped back in October that our separation would be temporary– that my husband would leave the house while we all sought out counseling to sort things out and take the time to heal. However, after a month of promising to leave and seek therapy, my husband never followed through. But, I did. Ironically, the moment when I felt most like a grown-up was when at 34, I moved back to my hometown at my parents’ house with two little ones in tow.

From November 2011-June 2012, the pace of our new course really sped up. I secured a a decent full-time position almost immediately after relocating. Despite moving away and starting a new school, my son made great strides in counseling learning how to appropriately manage the emotional turmoil that had been overwhelming him.  Additionally,  my son went from struggling to read at his 1st grade level, to ending the school year reading at a 4th grade level. Yes, this detour proved to be emotionally exhausting–but my son and I became happier people somehow.

Yet, in June 2012, life was about to take another sudden detour– the kind you are forced to take because the road you were driving on ends, marked by the jarring parade of  fluorescent orange signs,flags and flashing sirens .  It’s the obvious result of the road meeting with a catastrophic event. And it was such an occurrence that happened to our family in the end of June.

While I worked full-time, I was fortunate to have my mom (my best friend, in fact) take care of my children. With her watching my children, I could work with my mind at ease, knowing that my children would not be lacking in the love and attention a mom could provide. However, my mother was also a Type-1 Diabetic, and had already lost both her legs and suffered many complications as the disease ravaged her body. For the two years prior, she hadn’t had any major health issues. In fact, she was more active and healthy than she had ever been. But on June 25, she had a typical episode of a her blood sugar bottoming out– the kind she would always bounce back from in a day or two at most. It was with that mindset that I took it for granted that this event wasn’t anything my mom couldn’t overcome. I was sorely mistaken. On June 27, while at home she took a sudden turn–and I knew when I dialed 911 that this trip to ER was not going to have the typical outcome. She slipped away right in front of me– we were just loading the car to take my mom to the hospital, when my mom went from conscious and talking to completely unresponsive.

It was 1 pm, when I made that fateful call. It was then I already knew by the wrenching of my gut that I would never get to tell my mom “I love you” or even “good-bye”. At 10:22 pm, I got confirmation of what truth my heart already knew. It was that moment and every one that has come since that has really shown me what as a “grown-up” I was truly capable of doing.

We were not prepared in any way for her sudden death, emotionally and financially. My dad and I were given till the end of March 2013 to find another home–the home that was purchased as a gift for my parents needed to be sold ASAP. I could not afford reliable childcare that could accommodate my awkward work schedule–and my work was not able to offer me a schedule that the one childcare source I had available could offer. During the summer and fall of 2012, I found myself facing unemployment, homelessness, while maintaining some semblance of normalcy for my children.

Today, all of the uncertainty presented courtesy of that detour is finally in my rear-view mirror. I found my voice and my sense of direction. My children and I are enjoying a home we can call our own, free of eggshell carpeting. And I am enjoying the fruits of my resourcefulness, as I free-lance my talents and appreciate this time to truly explore my vocational endeavors.

As I continue to drive away from the wreckage of the past– with its reflection continuing to get smaller and smaller in my rear-view mirror– I know that the reflection will always be there even when my eye can no longer discern it. I know there will be moments when I will want to focus on that image, momentarily losing my focus on the road ahead. The key word here is “momentary”. By always remembering to keep my attention on the drive and how my hands are steering wheel– I will keep what I have already overcome where it belongs, and not coming up on me later to splatter across my windshield.
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I should not be able to pick the man your ex-wife left you for out of a line-up based entirely on our discussion during a 40 minute job interview

I should not be able to pick the man your ex-wife left you for out of a line-up based entirely on our discussion during a 40 minute job interview.

Great practical advice to heed–and I feel compelled to share with my readers who, like me, are in a period of starting over. As I pursue another employment venture this weekend–I’ll remember to keep the drama at my blog and people skills at the job.

The act of loving performed sitting, standing, or dancing…

On this Valentine’s, I choose to see how blessed I am to have so many people in my life to love and be loved by.

A Valentine's message to the single parent.

A Valentine’s message to the single parent.

I also reflect on the great loves I have been honored to witness, such as the one shared between my parents. Even though my mom passed away last June, she was and always will be my dad’s dancing partner.

 

Still dancing...

Still dancing…

Remember your relationship status does not have to determine the love in your life—celebrate the love in your life today, regardless of its source ♥

Wanna go for a ride???

At some point in our life’s journey, we get so off course in that the only road ahead looks like a dead-end. But if you remember to look behind, the road is still going on far into the distance.

Well, directly in front of me, that metaphorical “dead-end” is staring me down. Instead of giving in to its intimidating glare by turning off the ignition and sheepishly handing over my keys, I rev the engine up and turn the car around.

A substantial amount of backtracking lies ahead– and I take it on without resentment. In fact, with this turn-around, I’m going to take in  the scenery I previously missed and avoid all roads I know to be signed with “Dangerous Curves Ahead”.

And I am inviting you to be my passenger as I navigate these back roads towards my intended destination.

To check in on my progress please visit the Navigation Narration page of this blog.

The journey starts effective of this post’s publication…

The 32 year old teenager…

Even the recent birth of my second child has not convinced me I am officially an adult. I am a victim of a my apathetic generation– one of those who somehow did not get their feet firmly planted while they entered in adulthood. Still, I remain clueless as to what I want to be when I grown up–  my mind has not grasped the idea that am an adult, at the age where I am expected to have it together– haha. At least, I know I am not the only one of my generation afflicted by this condition. In fact, I know of many older adults, my mom for example, that find themselves in a professional limbo.