Downpour

The drops shatter silence,
     and maybe even glass,
     pounding against the pane.
As she walks,
     unhurried as it falls,
     in puddle-soaked glistening soles.
Rivulets shiver
     and trickle away
     from the patterns relieved by her heels.
And somewhere amidst
     the myriad drops,
     one solitary tear gains weight.

On My Terms

I took
the longest
most difficult
most painful
way to get
here.

You better believe
I'll fight
for the right
to stay.

In Spite

Dear Expectations,

You totally suck at this love stuff. You're always getting in the way, and you always ruin stuff that's beautiful. You have no respect for spontaneity or romance, forcing all these obligations on me. I'm just tired of trying to keep up with you, and I think it's just time to be... me.

I have chosen to love in spite of you.

Sincerely,
Nean

Ice Cream and Power of Attorney

Today I realized I'm "old." Now I realize that probably half my readership is older than I am, so don't freak out on me. Just go with it.

When I was my son's age, I was in awe of the fact that my parents were older than 30. I couldn't imagine ever being that old. They were so big and they knew so much. They never had any problems. They didn't have to ask permission to go anywhere or do anything they wanted to. They could eat ice cream whenever they wanted - even after I went to bed. Yes, I did sneak downstairs once in a while and catch you, Mom and Dad.

I could go into how I've grown up, had my own kids, and have gained perspective on and respect for my parents in ways I never could have as a child. And yes, I confess, I too eat ice cream after my kids go to bed... and yes, it is so that I don't have to share it with them - mom's prerogative. But, that's not the point of this post.

Point is, I've watched my father take care of his mother for the past several years. He sat through various doctor visits with her: paying attention, asking questions, taking notes, and communicating how Gramma was doing to all of the rest of us. He was the oldest child and power of attorney, and had the distinct "privilege" to watch his mother's health decline right in front of him.

So this morning, my mom asked me to take her to the eye doctor. Now, it had nothing to do with me being POA and everything to do with the fact that she wasn't able to drive home because they had to dilate her eyes. It was an odd feeling though. I sat and listened to the doctor explaining what was going on with her, and I was reminded of the fact that I have all that to look forward to: the symptoms, the meds, the tests, etc.

And it better be years (and hopefully a couple decades) before I have to serve as Power of Attorney for either of my parents. They're not "that old." But they took care of me, and someday I'll take care of them (as I was reminded by my parents last night when we had dinner for Dad's birthday).


But, time marches on. And sometimes it just hits me. Nothing ever stays the same... except for the ice cream.

And Sometimes It Works...

Every once in a while I hit a block. Something where I need to write. I feel the burn of something deep inside, begging for the light of the computer screen. And sometimes I don't know where to start. 

So there's a game I created (or stole from somewhere ~ I truly couldn't tell you which), where I gather random words and phrases from people all over Twitter and Facebook and put them into some crazy semblance of a poem. Sometimes, it's utterly ridiculous. And sometimes it actually comes out with something remotely... semi-profound? You can decide which and tell me in the comments, if you wanna. 

I have linked the random words or phrases I've gathered to their originators, just for the sake of your curiosity and my faulty memory when I come back to this later and read it. Thanks to all who participated. It's fun and helps get the creativity flowing again.

Antidisestablishmentarianism

as he stepped through 

the hole in the air 

he was Death

watching my dreams 

replay against a pitch 

black sky

of psychobabble

I prop me up 

beside the juke box,

and begin to stare him down

pondering the enchantment

of a not-so-sexy fart

caused, 

of course,

by this morning's breakfast:

one free-range egg,

rye toast

and bacon ~

crisp

my perception altered

on the splendiferous altar

of scrumschulescent ennui

he shakes his head,

knowing he's beaten by

the nonchalance 

I wield

it covers me,

begins to satisfy, 

as I wake again

to fight 

another day

Puzzled

she reconnects
as she's done before
possibly millions of times

each time pieces fit again
exactly the way
they always have

it's her world now
where she stands alone
redundantly seeking a match

I sit and watch
this profound simplicity
the certainty in the same

then a sudden remembrance
of the one left behind
a flick of a hand over shoulder

not even stopping
or turning around
a simple and quiet, "Hi, Mom."

Caught in the Middle

here i stay

behind and before

awakening your soul for this crime

of what they call intuitive passions

in anger, pain, desires, intrigue

as we learn to see loves through

together two make one

lovers now from friends

don’t know why, or even how

you ever won this right

to entwine your soul in mine