Waiting for the Hearts Spaceship

Another poem about love…awww.

Waiting for the Hearts Spaceship

Crimson cups
Linger of wispiness
and sweet sentiments they long to engage
Staring into the skylight window
As the stars embrace them

 

Fiddled fingers
trace the
shadow of her heart
As they explore the stories
From Bukowski esq memories
To wonderings if there really are aliens
In this vast planetary excursion

 

Fly me
To that swelled up moon
That cries out
In you

 

Fly me to somewhere that your heart
Has never been
To that tiny space
Reserved for space dreams
and where only after the whisky sets in
Revelations come

 

Fly me
Take me
To places in deserts
That are dry
Waiting to be quenched

 

Take me there
To that place
Somewhere
Somewhere
Where you have only longed to have been

Prophecy

Bubble in the sky  
Whispers Billowy
Hello’s And then vanishes
Leaving me wondering

Like a question unanswered
You are out there
My crème filled donut of love
You taunt me
I meet you
In bars
You are witty
You speak of Hemingway and heroism
And wine filled coffee houses that would be great to muse
In
Then you leave with your girlfriend
Who confessed to me she doesn’t love you
As I twist the cap on her beer open
And wish it was laced with some sort of truth poison

You
You are out there
I don’t expect you to ride up on a white horse
Perhaps just have a good conversation
Because Hello dear isn’t exactly enticing
Or drawing me in
In this algorithm, online dating world

You
You are out there
Somewhere In this jaded heart filled boxed of mine
I release the edges of hate
That have filled the corners of what was my yesteryears
Long I ago I would have been what was considered Old Maid fate
I know there is just a glimpse of golden
Amongst all this shaded grey

You
You are out there
Each year that goes by
You become more hazy
I have to wipe the windows
Inside me
To trust you are there

You
You are out there
You have changed from muscle man hero
To creative, inspiring, accepting, adventurous lover

You
You are out there
Able to handle this non laid back lady
Able to see beyond just ripping off clothes
And slapping my ass

You
You are out there
Sometimes your to long winded
But Still not jaded
Able to take my hand
And hold it
In the wind blown turmoil of what I have been

You
You are out there
Weathered words, that hold pages
Of information
You spill out onto my soul
And make me want to dive in

You
You are going to be a part of this story
We will tell it
Like the alchemist
Who sought to chase the wind
You
You are the ending
So Let the beginning
Begin

Inefficiency..a little rant..

Log in here,

Sign there

not enough symbols, words

an operator will be with you in just a minute

While you sit as caller number 9 for 20 minutes

time is not of the essence here

Operator 275 is on the line but won’t listen when you tell her

I want to quit my membership

Oh we are sorry you are disappointed let me offer you this today

It is to late lady, you had your chance and blew it

Oh I am sorry to hear that let me offer you this deal we can give you a bundle for 110 dollars a month

But I don’t need a home phone, and I don’t need 300 sports channels, heck I can’t even tell you who is going to the play offs , sorry sprots fans, don’t mean to insult but not my thing

But you can get high speed internet or we can give you a subscription of this magazine, gym, whatever.

For months, round and round, took me 4 months to finally show CVS I couldn’t get a list of my prescriptions and still somehow they send me updates about a city I haven’t lived in for 9 years but there is response is wow, we don’t know what that is happening.

Dear whomever, get your shit together.

I just don’t have this patience to sit on hold for an hour, to be told you have a great deal that is 5 times higher than what I am paying.

I don’t have the patience to be told oh if you don’t have your email or your password, that is okay, you can fill out a recover account information which requires you to have the authorization code they sent you in your welcome email…ummm, if I had that it would be from the email that the account is on and I would be able to get a new password, USE your heads people, seriously you are making me so frustrated and how is no one else agitated by this obvious lack of efficiency?

Is it only me?

Am I the only person who gets annoyed at all these calls I have to meke just to get general information

I am losing my patience, maybe I should just become old fashioned and never use the internet again?  Nahhh, that would be so antiquated and I am more intelligent than that.

Dear Whomever,

Please fix these issues, so we can get back to being unsocial in this social online world.

Thank you,

The woman who craves a little efficiency.

Here Kitty Kitty – Poetry

Wrote this poem tonight and thought I would share it.  Please do not copy it or use it with contacting me for permission.  Thank you.

Here Kitty Kitty

Like a chocolate powder doughnut

Oozing

Sliding out the door

Like the heat filled chaotic bitch that she was

He ran like a knife that didn’t  want to stab her

Her

It was her heart that drew him in

Eyes like a saucer bowl full of kittens milk

And oh how he meowed for the taste of her bitter sweetness

She was not 100% homogenized

She was more of a cashew and almond milk

A mix

A breed

The cat he needed next to him

But, she was more of an alley cat

That only came when she smelled tuna being thrown out

Then she purred and rubbed and begged

Him trying to catch her

But she jumped on the fence of his life and tore it

Making the wood of his mind chipped

And out the door she went

 

 

 

 

The Mirror Reveals the Soul Within – Poem by Mary Shanti

I wrote the poem below, I don’t give permission to use this poem without contacting me first.  Hope you enjoy it.

Mary Shanti.

The mirror reveals the soul within

It is hazy water filled

In a dessert miraged heart

It is barren

Where wence it was full throttled cherry blossomed, apple cheeked rosy

The mirror reveals the soul within

Scorched embers

Still can see through the branches to a small piece

Not yet scorned

Tenderly aching but still filled with a sense of wonder

A leaf not torn

A branch unbroken, its leaves fall hoping to dance in the suns warmth

The mirror reveals the soul within

Whose lines tell stories like trees that have grown

There bark is brittled beauty

Born from moments that were swept up like wisps of air

The mirror reveals the soul within

Still standing

Still solemn

Still here.

Night and Day – Poem by Mary Shanti

The following was written in memory of my best friend, the Cherry Blossom of my life. I miss you everyday.

 

Night and Day

The wind temperamental with turmoil

Misconceived emotion

Was my muse

Guided through days

Silence seeks sanctuary

In the grave of confusion that lies here

 

A tree masked

By sunlit singing birds

Whose elated tones speak

Only to those who long to hear them

The day comes

With its willowed raindrops

Weeping

Wistfully

At the strains of my lingering

Lost memories

 

Momentary scars of what was sunshine

Escapes my once laminate heart

Which I bundled in a pile

Like the stacks of wood for the fires burning

 

Cherry blossoms

Once bloomed here

Pink innocent petals

Fallen

Into ashes

That were a lake

Now just an allegory of this seemingly

Barren soul

Echo’s of what was

 

Night

Shadows

Unseen Eyes

Haunt the vision

That is blurred by the raindrops

Tiny silver smatterings

Falling slowly down the window pain

Aching to come in

Shut out from the glass that could break so easily

 

Madness meanders

Even when a howl has been hindered

Deafening ears

Plundered into deep darkness

 

Longing to understand

The whys and wherefores

Of the edged blade that sunk in through the moonlight

And tore open my sleepless heart

 

It once was here

It stood in the doorway

Asking me to come

With it bludgeoned edges

And promises of losing the pain

I turned down the invitation

 

She was the cherry blossom

That bloomed even in the night fall

Weak to its prey

She laid her head in its lap

And asked the shadow in the doorway

Took her tormented petals away

 

Leaving me with only fragments

Of a time that once was

-Mary Shanti

 

I don’t give permission for the poem to be copied or used without contacting me first.  Thank you.

My Father and the memories that really matter!!! A fathers day tribute.

A little box pops up on my Mac…Fathers Day is tomorrow.  I just stare at it.  Let it sit there for a minute.  There have been 14 Fathers Days that have come and gone since he passed away and each one is different.  The first one was very difficult and I had no idea that Fathers Day was even coming up and then I walked into a Rite Aid and there it was a huge sign, Fathers Day is Sunday June 20, 2004 with a huge display filled with cards and gifts. I stood there staring at it just like the little sign on my computer but with tears in my eyes and a twisting of my gut.  I whispered out loud, but I don’t have a daddy anymore and then remembering that the last time Fathers day was more than just a day to celebrate my dad, it was also the last day I saw my father alive.  Each Fathers Day after that is a remembrance of him and I going out to get lunch at a brewery in Irvine.  As a kid it was the day we made daddy breakfast in bed or gave him silly gifts but as an adult it was the day I took him to get him food and something related to beer.  This time he sat with a large tray of beer samplers.  I don’t drink beer, so they happily were all his.  He sipped and commented on the mix of odd hops from pumpkin beer to super dark brews.  He was happy as we sat and talked.  He had recently taken to letting my mom take the helm and work and him being the stay at home husband.  He would fix things, do laundry, watch a little tv and talk to me sometimes while I was on break from my working for a large corporation from 9 to 6.  I wasn’t immersed in my work, it was okay but I was bored and unchallenged by it.  I did like he money but hard to spend it when working 14 hours a day.   The company was noticing my lack of drive but I didn’t realize it until one day I was asked in a meeting, do you like your job.  I instinctively answered, of course, I love my job.   Knowing somewhere inside the real answer was, no I am not challenged enough and need to express some creativity soon or I will burst.   My boss nodded and said, well okay but I don’t think he was buying it either.  I think my father sensed it also, he would come and visit from time to time, everyone in the office loved him.  He had a huge child like smile and would brag about his youngest and how proud of her he was (that is me, if you didn’t get the reference yet).  I was so glad he was proud of me, I hadn’t always been the best daughter in the world but at least now I felt like I wasn’t letting him down or worrying him about my financial status.  I think parents always worry, even if just a little and a good parent like him, wants to help out even when I was financially taken care of.  When he would come to visit he would fix things, he even changed he handle on my refrigerator door so when I opened it and was standing at the stove, I could just reach in, grab what I needed and put it back.  He wanted to help his little girl and it was so sweet and I loved it but what helped me more than anything was our talks.  Was him opening up about his experiences, his childhood and those rare moments when he would talk about what it was like for him being my father.  Those are the conversations that stick with me, those are the things that on Fathers day I remember.  I only wish I had taken more video of him, recorded his voice more or written down every moment where we connected.  One in particular conversation stands out, the last one we had while sitting in that brewery.  We were both relaxed, and enjoying our food and I asked him what  being at home was like for him. He said he was enjoying it and then he told me the words that stuck with me, “I spent way to much time chasing money instead of my dreams”.  I knew in this was some regret, I knew he had wanted to do more sailing in his life, had wanted to teach but he seemed to be in a place of more calm than he had been in.  He seemed less stressed out.  I knew he was right and that life isn’t all about money but it is about memories and doing things that make us happy.  I also knew he was a good father and he worked jobs he may not always have loved because he wanted his wife and children to be taken care of and he was wiling to sacrifice some of his dreams to provide that for us. I had a great respect for him now and I saw him as wanting to be happy and at peace in his older years.  His children were grown and he didn’t have the same pressure.

Shortly before his death a month later, in a one on one meeting with my boss, I was asked the question again, do you like your job and I blurted out No I don’t.  He paused and looked at me and said, we knew this and were trying to figure out what to do.  It was discussed and we both agreed that I didn’t fit in at this job.  He said to me that I was like a square peg trying to fit in a round hole and it just didn’t work.  We decided I would stay for another month, giving me time to train someone new and look for another job.  Then my dad passed away and they graciously let me stay for another 2 months while I worked through emotions and looked for work.

Now 14 years later I have discovered so much about myself, that I love being creative, that I cherish times over things (though sometimes I do miss being able to just randomly buy a nice purse or a pretty new dress), that I can survive more than I thought I could and that I am happiest when being creative.  I think my dad would like my artwork, I think he would still say he is proud of his little girl.    I am not sure where my path with my artwork is leading me, but it is what makes me happy and I know he would want me to be happy.

I walk into a Rite Aid now and see all the Fathers day signs, cards and gifts and I smile at his memory, I know I still have a daddy, he may physically be gone but his heart, words and love are always with me.  Thank you daddy for all you gave me and still give me.

The Silent Scroll: A withdrawal from posting and replying on Facebook for 2 months

I scrolled and scrolled, and I was being reeled in like a fish who couldn’t resist the tie line.  It had me in it’s grip and with each new post about Trump, Bannon or Devos I tapped on the article and read it like a soap opera addict, I couldn’t wait for the new plot line to come out each day.  However, unlike a soap opera which isn’t real, what I was reading was and I became engrossed in it, scrolling to find more stories and replying with intensity and a sense of feeling I was doing my duty in trying to get others to see what was happening to this country…but was I? or was I just involving myself in heavy drama and having this be a focus to steer me away from the death of my best friend.  Whatever the reason being, I noticed that I was experiencing stomach pains and nausea while I would be engrossed in political conversations and that when I stopped writing and got out of Facebook, my stomach started to calm down. I was having Trump stress pains and it wasn’t good.  I decided this wasn’t worth my health, it wasn’t worth getting so upset that I wanted to kick something or reach through my computer and yell at certain people who refused to see the hatred, it was causing me to be angry, that which I was upset for seeing happen, was happening to me. I decided to pull away.  I wondered, what will it be like if I change my role here?  What if I just become a silent observer? Can I do this? Can I read a news story or a post about something that infuriates me and not give my opinion about it?  It was time to find out.  I also wanted to know in this world of “socialness” what would happen if I stopped being social.  Did the world need to read about my viewpoints or see my posts on my dating foibles or viewpoints, I wasn’t sure but thought it would make an interesting experiment to not say a thing.  The exception to this was I did allow myself to post in the classified sections of Facebook.  I sell things here and there and didn’t want to stop myself from being able to make a little money here and there.

 

The silent journey begins….

 

The first week was hard, I would read a post and immediately click on the comment button and start to furiously write but then I would stop, hit back space and take a deep breath.  I would remind myself that I didn’t’ have to give my 2 cents on everything out there.  I just became about scrolling and reading and taking it in.  It was hard though to not comment when people would post a picture or video of an event that they were participating in or a birthday they were having.  To those birthdays I haven’t written a Happy Birthday to , I apologize but I am sending you hugs and love.  I would still watch cute cat videos but this time not post them. I would still look at the posts that asked all sorts of questions but not answer them.  Three weeks in and it was a little bit easier.  I would still get notifications but now they were mainly for classified ads or groups I was a part of.  The content on my page also changed drastically, from showing friends videos to showing more stories from 22 words and the Los Angeles Times.  My ads even changed, for some reason Facebook thinks I am bulimic because I must have read a story on it…and no I am not bulimic or anorexic.   I noticed that my friends still thought I was online based on answers they put on the questionnaires the filled out.  You know those posts that ask you things like name 4 places you have been, name 4 of your nick names.  These almost always have a question at that bottom saying name someone you know will respond or repost this.  My friends, even a month and a half after I stopped posting, still put my name.  I didn’t respond or say anything but I was amused by it.  I felt like the girl who wasn’t invited to the party but everyone keeps acting like I was there.  Oh you remember when so and so did this at the party and it was so funny and my response being, no I don’t know I wasn’t there.  They give you that inquisitive look, no, no you were there, I remember.  You shake your head and say flatly, nope it wasn’t me and they aren’t sure what to say because they really thought you had been invited or had been there but you weren’t.  I did have one friend who wrote to me on messenger, about 2 ½ weeks after I had stopped writing. I almost always replied to her sweet posts about her children and wonderful mate and she wanted to make sure I was okay.  It was very touching to me and I wrote her back explaining what I was doing.  I did write to her on and off through out the 2 months.

Not being contacted or having most people notice I was gone made me  wonder about my presence as a person and how strong is it really?  Not very when it comes to social media.   It hurt to some degree but I just took it in and realized it was something I needed to work through and figure out.  How I do this I am not 100% sure of but I know I am open to growing and also open to connecting with people on a deeper level.

I do need to note that I have certain people on Facebook, such as Family and close friends that I talked to outside of the Facebook world.  It is interesting because none of them said anything to me about not posting or not seeing me not commenting on their feeds.  I wasn’t completely void of connection with people.

In the last few weeks of not posting on Facebook, I find myself wanting to comment on certain posts of people who are going through specific things. I have a friend who just had a baby, a beautiful boy. I am so incredibly happy for her and her husband. I love seeing the pictures even though I think she worries she will be one of those moms who is in overkill mode with the pictures, she is not and believe me with all the trauma going on in the world, seeing a sweet baby sleeping in his father’s arms is something I want to see more of.

I am ready to enter the world of Facebook again but this time realizing that it is just a website, not a home. It is social…yes but more in a acquaintance sort of way. I also realize that in life I don’t want to be a part of a lot of the surface stuff, the how’s the weather conversations or what is considered to be small talk but I also don’t want to be in a war all the time with the political turmoil that is all around us.  Peace within myself and my body is more important now. It is more important to connect with people who want to go somewhere and have coffee or who want to connect and see how each other are doing.  I step back into this wondering what is next with it….How do I use this social media to enhance my life?  Do I use it to report to those I know what I am doing, after all a lot of the people on Facebook that I am friends with don’t live in the same city or even state, some don’t’ even live in the same country so it is not like I can sit down and have  a coffee with them. One of the reasons I love Facebook is for just this reason. I can see the people (whom I used to hang out with when they lived in LA ), what they are up to, what their children are doing.

The world we live in now has connection through online means.  It is a vessel but it is not the complete ship, I have realized that I need more, more people to laugh with, more people to sit across a table and see their smile light up or be in a movie theatre eating popcorn together and bonding over our love for the Jedi’s.  This is a connection that isn’t the same through a screen, it can’t hug me or bring me food when a friend has died and these are the connections I seek.  I love Facebook for the people, for the funny cat videos, for the inspiring stories and for seeing people whom I love dearly and miss across the miles but it is time, time for me to be in a non virtual world so that I can one day post about me and my friends being at a dinner table and laughing and connecting, instead of scrolling though my feed and seeing others do this and wishing it was me.

In Between

I rarely just post my thoughts or observations on here but I am going to attempt to.  Here goes:

I realized to day that I am in an in between place in society.  That is to say I don’t have a group that quite fits.  I am in my late 40’s and most people my age are married with kids, living in a house that they own or rent. How can I relate to these people at a dinner table….(conversation), Oh we took out a second mortgage on the house today so we can start paying for Michael juniors college.  We are hoping he gets into UCLA.  ….hmmm, well what do I say to this?  I am going to community college let me talk to your son.  That is the other aspect of my life that is different.  I am surrounded by young students in their late teens and early twenties.  They are just starting out in their life, they grew up in the 90’s the years of grunge and teletubbies, and I grew up with The Jetsons and bell bottoms.  They like to play beer pong when they have a party, in my day we did shots (usually tequila) but those days are long gone.  I laugh when they tell me they are old and they just turned 21.  What the heck does that make me, old geiser.  I suppose in some of their eyes I am.  At times I feel that way too.  I have fun when around them, most of the time but can’t really relate to some of the antics and the laid back attitudes.  In my younger years we went dancing on Friday and often Saturday nights but they like to hang out, play beer pong or drink beers.

Here I am, not sure where to go or how to find a group of people that fit.  I don’t own a car so it isn’t always easy to go to things at night, it can be scary coming home at 12:30 in Los Angeles.  A lot of my friends have moved or are very busy with families of their own.  I find myself having less and less people to do stuff with on the weekends.

I suppose I need to join groups on meetup.com or something similar to that.  I have gone to a few events with them and they keep me busy but yet to connect with anyone.

In between, middle aged with a child like heart but an adult mind, both in spirit.

The Most Addictive Sites

Bored on a Monday?  Going to the web and checking all the usual stuff, Email, Facebook, Pinterest and Twitter but wondering what else might be out there?  More, I need more, give me more.  This was my plight and I found this side that helped me out a little, maybe not a complete earth shaker but took up some time and I found some great places to go to have some fun and be entertained (isn’t that one of the biggest reasons for the web?)  This is the link, hope you enjoy.

http://netforbeginners.about.com/od/weirdwebculture/tp/The-Most-Addictive-Websites-of-2012.htm