Author: Christina's Words

“The darkness around us is deep.” ~ William Stafford

“balloons” by Charles Bukowski

On By Christina's WordsIn Poetry

I saw too many faces today
faces like balloons.

at times I felt like
lifting the skin
and asking,
“anybody under there?”

there are medical terms for
fear of height
for
fear of
enclosed spaces.

there are medical terms for
any number of
maladies

so
there must be a medical term
for:
“too many people.”

I’ve been stricken with
this malady
all my life:
there has always been
“too many people.”

I saw too many faces
today, hundreds of
them

with eyes, ears, lips,
mouths, chins and so
forth

and
I’ve been alone
for several hours
now

and
I feel that I am
recovering.

which is the good part
but the problem
remains
that I know I’m going to
have to go out there
among them
again.

 

~ Charles Bukowski, from Come on in – new poems

“I loved you head over handles…

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“I loved you head over handles
like my first bicycle accident—
before the mouthful of gravel and blood,
I swore we were flying.”

– Sierra DeMulder

“What the Dead Fear” by Kim Addonizio

On By Christina's WordsIn Poetry

On winter nights, the dead
see their photographs slipped
from the windows of wallets,
their letters stuffed in a box
with the clothes for Goodwill.
No one remembers their jokes,
their nervous habits, their dread
of enclosed places.
In these nightmares, the dead feel
the soft nub of the eraser
lightening their bones. They wake up
in a panic, go for a glass of milk
and see the moon, the fresh snow,
the stripped trees.
Maybe they fix a turkey sandwich,
or watch the patterns on the TV.
It’s all a dream anyway.
In a few months
they’ll turn the clocks ahead,
and when they sleep they’ll know the living
are grieving for them, unbearably lonely
and indifferent to beauty. On these nights
the dead feel better. They rise
in the morning, and when the cut
flowers are laid before their names
they smile like shy brides. Thank you,
thank you, they say. You shouldn’t have,
they say, but very softly, so it sounds
like the wind, like nothing human.

~ Kim Addonizio, The Philosopher’s Club

For Karen: “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate…”

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“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.’ We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give others permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
~ Marianne Williamson

Today’s post is dedicated to Karen P. who wrote the brave and beautiful post “The Secret Keepers” yesterday on childhood sexual abuse and trauma. She has asked us all to share it. Because she is my friend, I am doing so. Because the information may help others in need, I am asking you to do the same. Thank-you, Christy

“This is How You Lose Her” by Junot Diaz

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This is how you lose her.

You lose her when you forget to remember the little things that mean the world to her: the sincerity in a stranger’s voice during a trip to the grocery, the delight of finding something lost or forgotten like a sticker from when she was five, the selflessness of a child giving a part of his meal to another, the scent of new books in the store, the surprise short but honest notes she tucks in her journal and others you could only see if you look closely.

You must remember when she forgets.

You lose her when you don’t notice that she notices everything about you: your use of the proper punctuation that tells her continuation rather than finality, your silence when you’re about to ask a question but you think anything you’re about to say to her would be silly, your mindless humming when it is too quiet, your handwriting when you sign your name in blank sheets of paper, your muted laughter when you are trying to be polite, and more and more of what you are, which you don’t even know about yourself, because she pays attention.

She remembers when you forget.

You lose her for every second you make her feel less and less of the beauty that she is. When you make her feel that she is replaceable. She wants to feel cherished. When you make her feel that you are fleeting. She wants you to stay. When you make her feel inadequate. She wants to know that she is enough and she does not need to change for you, nor for anyone else because she is she and she is beautiful, kind and good.

You must learn her.

You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to.

You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept.

And, this is how you keep her.

 

This Is How You Lose Her || Junot Diaz