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Kudos to the Woman
who can look her lover in the eye.
Able to express her feelings without being shy.
A woman who isn't afraid to care.
Who doesn't dole out her affections
with a parsimonious flair.
Kudos to the woman who loves unconditionally,
is genuine, without an agenda.
She has no expectations,
save to love a good woman who is ever so tender.
A woman who believes in honesty,
however bittersweet.
She knows that compassion and love,
calm uncertainties and bring such relief.
Kudos to the woman
who loves with all her heart.
Able to love completely,
without falling apart.
A woman who knows that life is a journey
a grand game of chance.
Not a spectator sport
for those afraid to dance.
Kudos to the woman who
is an optimist about love and life.
But doesn't beat herself up when
it is filled with strife.
She knows when to let herself love,
is not afraid for it to show.
Recognizes when her feelings are unhealthy
loves herself enough to say enough,
it is time to let go.
Kudos to the woman when her lover has left
does not succumb to the pain
and stay so bereft.
She allows herself time to heal
reflect and grow,
become even keel
find a place where she is never allows herself to get so low.
Kudos to the woman
who knows when to dry her tears.
Recognizes it is time to overcome her fears.
A woman who knows when it to let go the one she held dear.
When to reach out for another,
That is safe to draw someone else near.
Kudos to the Woman
who knows the secret to living
means sharing your life, loving and giving.
She recognizes the fallacy we all "buy into"
when we are in pain.
That love is not worth it,
it is not for her
she has nothing to gain.
Kudos to this woman
when pieces come together
Her balance is found
She is no longer bound by her emotional tether.
She smiles so brightly
the light bulb finally on.
She may or may not be in love again
but she realizes life does go on.
A dash of Butch
A pinch of Fem.
To the kitchen we gather
A cornucopia of women
Some are domesticated
Others quite rough
Still others look confused
Or prefer not to show up.
We gather together- a group
defined by 'one'.
Wanting to cook
but not ready to be 'done' .
What is the reason?
We hate this 'cooking' so?
Why do we fight it?
Cooking thy enemy, thy foe?
What is the culprit?
Who do we blame?
Martha Stewart?
or K. D Lang?
Perhaps it is the microwave dinners
or time alone?
Who are the villians
that makes lesbian cooking
practically unknown?
This 'Cooking' is complicated,
I avoid it at all costs.
How many times have I told the
hopeful co-cook to get lost?
Cooking -it's not for the timid,
nor for the weak?
Recipe, Ingredients, planning.
Are you up for the challenge or are you too meek?
Once in the kitchen.
We label and poke fun.
All the while hiding our secret desire to 'run'.
Dashes of Pepper, Spices Galore
Baking of "pies', sorting of chores.
Delegating roles, by type- butch or fem.
Don't like your label? It doesn't matter to them.
Lesbian Cooking,
Like Lesbian life.
Too much damn Take-Out
--brings heart burn and strife!
Everyday I wake up.
I smile at the sunshine on a cold winters day.
I touch the door jam taking comfort in the stability of the solid wood,
buoyed by its strength.
I drink water thirstly,trying to quench the unending thirst.
I talk loudly, speak quickly, joking with an easy smile.
I dance striving to hit every beat of the drum, I sing off key garbling the
words and missing all the high notes.
I participate fully in so many ways in my life everyday,
yet I am alone.
Most days that is ok, I know that friends are as important as the
elusive lover.
I know that self-happiness and self-love while I am 'alone' is the key to
finding happiness with someone else.
I know this, and I remind myself of this everyday.
Why?
Because everyday I have to acknowledge the inner-ache to feel
someone with there hand resting in mine.
I have to comfort the part of me that looks at couples who have so much joy
and try not to wonder why I am alone.
Everyday, I have to validate all of my emotions,
not just the ones that make me feel good.
If I dont do that, the one that is 'alone' gets a bit frustrated
and it makes itself known.
Usually, loudly in anger and with negative consequences for me
--very self-destructive.
Now my Everyday task is simple,
yet hard.
Everyday-
Smile at the sun
Laugh at the rain
Think of the positives
Validate the 'negatives'.
Tell yourself that you hurt, you are alone, but dont dwell.
Ask yourself why? How are you changing, what are your goals
your agenda for yourself?
Everyday, if you get in the habit of asking yourself the 'tough questions'
perhaps they will become as comfortable and as acceptable as your
easy smile and roaring laugh. Perhaps the power loneliness has over you will
be diffused, and you can find inner peace.
Everyday-think, feel and love yourself.
Everyday!
Choices,
most times I don't see them,
so clouded is my vision,
flecks of pain obscure my line of sight.
They are there,
mired in anguish
hidden by fear
playing 2nd fiddle to self-inflicted pain,
that I so readily douse upon myself.
A match ready to ignite a burned out building?
or a field ravaged by drought?
Choices-
If I can only wade through the
'dead sea' of yesterdays misgivings,
the guilt, the loss, the loneliness.
If I can only find away to start to dismantle the armor-
link by link?
If I can find a way to open the lid to the box that I climbed in
so willingly, so long ago?
Perhaps then the choices that are right before my eyes
could be 'seen'.
Rose-colored glasses,
seemingly soldered to my ears
in reality could be lifted off by a hint of a breeze
given the opportunity.
Why don't I look at the periphery,
see the myraid of colors?
When did I seep into monochrome dispair?
Choices--
I bought this package of self-remorse in
good faith.
I need time to heal, I said.
But the healing came with
a new vocabulary, new rules.
Phrases like, I can't love again-its hurts to much!
Or , how could have been so stupid, so trusting, so niave?
Each phrase formed a mindset,
that with each utterance I gave credence to.
Unbeknowst to me
I was 'healing' by dismantling my strengths,
and honoring
my weaknesses.
So here I sit,
no matter if it is a day, a week or years.
I have 'healed' by erecting walls, mistrusting myself, and
been ruled by fear.
Now that I think the time is 'right' to venture forth.
The first time I reach out-- I am paralyzed by uncertainty,
and I can't fathom why.
Haven't I healed? Haven't I progressed? Am I not stronger?
That sad reality is that what I did was heal of a fashion,
confusing time and distance, with healing and being strong.
I have cut myself off from the pain
thinking that was the 'fix' for what ailed me.
When in fact the only thing I needed was self-honesty.
Perhaps if I would have admitted that I am human,
Or showed myself anounce of the kindness that I dole out to friends.
Maybe I would have been able to accept my failings with an eye towards
lessons learned. Instead of a reason to retreat from love, from life, from
the world.
Choices-we make them effortlessly everyday
loudly, in anger, or quietly and in fear.
Thoughtlessly we redefine ourselves,
touting healing, but really
hiding.
Choices-- I make this one today
I am going to admit my mistakes,
laugh at my fears, and embrace life.
Sound foolhardy?
No, because I am going to look at each
'choice' as it arises, based on how I am that day.
Not on how I felt yesterday.
Choices-
Achilles' heal with an adagio tempo.
A Fandango dance sung in a falsetto voice.
Kinetic energy that had suddenly gone kaput.
Quintessence built on Quicksand
Time an irreverent mistress.
Has to stir the cauldron
Juices aromatic to the senses
Poisonous to savor.
Can there be light that illuminates?
Without shadows on either side?
Is it possible that serenity exists
in the absence of strife?
'Tis one not the Handmaiden to the other?
Does not one brush the long lustrous strands of the other
until the gleam in the firelight?
'Tis the tragedy of life.
The Human spirit does not revel in the glory of happiness,
until it has met with and quelled the depths of despair.
Such a quirk of living
That the awareness of happiness and sadness on the continuum
is not enough to
create action in an individual.
Sadly, it is only through personal experience
and strife,
that we seem to begin to appreciate
how precious balance is in our lives,
and begin to savor the tranquil moments
and the simple pleasures.
Perhaps it is at that moment,
we begin to prioritize,
let go of the things that no longer matter.
Focus on the true gifts of life, Love and Friendship.
Maybe that is the day we learn that love is a true gift one bestows upon
someone else
unconditionally without expectations.
Rules and agendas
are replaced with compassion and understanding.
Anger is replaced with acceptance of our own faults and the faults of others.
The day we learn that sometimes you can fix things in your life, and other
times
the only thing we can do is protect ourselves from harms way.
Colicky Calm,
seemingly an oxymoron to the vast majority of life's partakers.
But for those who have found the calm in the eye of a hurricane,
we know the reality of it.
Colicky Calm was the moment we faced turbulence and found inner-peace.
The moment that our human spirit rose up and decided to empower
ourselves with the tools to be happy and healthy.
Colicky Calm,
the precious seed
we all need to cultivate
until we find our inner balance between the two
and persevere.
Crimson
blood red my emotions spatter into my life.
Precious like rubies.
As fragile as rose petals plucked one by one.
Verdant
like slumbering trees dormant after an embittered winter
turning lush with the spring thaw,
kissed by the warming sun.
Life infused by the blades of grass,
strengthening with each unfurling leave.
Crush
The juxtaposition of the Crimson and Verdant.
When the two meet, a cavalcade of color ensues.
The Crush is heady
intoxicating to the senses
The unconnected are connected.
The disjointed are joined.
The heart beats
The lungs breathe
The woman discovers her passion.
A love of life and smiles.
I grasp at air,
but you think it is a vice.
Control
Power
I have none over you,
yet still I cannot somehow entice.
Is my presence a talon clawing at your heart?
Do you think by my actions,
I am trying to tear your soul apart?
I cannot help but feel like a novice
trying to learn to drive a car.
Grinding gears,
destroying the clutch
clumsily ackward,
sadly not getting very far.
I only wanted only to love you
nothing else required.
But have I mistakenly yoked you with my iron clad glove?
To the point, I am no longer desired?
Clutch
Have I forced your hand?
Do you feel like your choices are limited to black and white?
Are those the only options left?
Too weary to move beyond the fight?
Clutch
Ackward at first
but then the gears smoothly shift.
I can only hope that our differences
are only 'practice' for what is to come,
and not sadly,
an irreparable rift.
I crave you
your perky
you make the very best
you aromatic smell
beckons me like a lover's caress.
Your reliable
when I set the timer
You tease me with your slow steady drip
Last night was late one
I think I need to double-dip.
You're a coercive habit
my addiction
my grind
a commensurate flirt
you tease and you bind.
My mind won't waken without you
my craving for you strengthens with every cup
when will you release me
you possessive pick-me-up.
From foggy and cobwebs
to wired and alert
You are my fix
my morning 'dessert.'
You are my master
I am your slave
You entice and seduce me
dispensing the caffeine that I crave.
So I slunk to the coffee pot
a drone to her Queen Bee
My Java Jane percolating
smitten I smile
'The best part of waking up'
definitely makes the morning less vile.
'Tis a rarity to find you.
Amidst the stoic and stonyhearted.
Refreshing, that why so many
slunk in the shadows,
you choose to rise like the sun
towards any occassion.
Your smile is easy,
your concern sincere.
Even while your hands are trembling
you still reach out to those you hold dear.
If you have a character flaw,
it is that you care too much.
You put others before you
when sometimes it is you that needs a loving touch.
Genuine heart
your gift to all
your grace beguiling
enveloping the world like a comforting shawl.
I am fortunate I have met you
blessed I can call you friend.
Buoyed in the tides of life
knowing I have your strength to share and lend.
Genuine heart
be good to yourself.
Never allow life
to cause you to treat your heart;
like a forgotten book on a shelf.
Flickering light
you bask in the glow
a silhouette amidst the shadows.
You dance with abandon
like there is no tomorrow
I can't help but wonder if you flee from sorrow?
Your hips they sway a sensuous groove
a tepid tempo pacing until you are consumed.
The rhythm she gyrates,
such a compulsion.
The beat she quickens
making all kinds of assumptions.
Your laughter is throaty
you demeanor is flirty
your hair is tousled
your thoughts alas
dirty.
Perhaps I should back off,
knowing you are consumed
your inner angst,
trying to quell you're heartfelt doom.
No one drinks to liven up.
They drink to forget
no matter what.
You can say you happy with your life
But if you are drinking heavily
you're avoiding some inner strife.
Your body she beckons with every gyration
but your demeanor she halts my very temptation.
How can I go there
when you haven't a clue?
You think only of the moment
and I think only of you.
In the morning the bright lights
and bleary eyes will beckon.
For that is the moment that you will
have to reckon.
I cannot as your friend go there tonight.
Knowing that it is loneliness
and not love that you fight.
Incandescent lighting the room all aglow
I wish things where different
but there not
so I go.
Fiery Muse's e-mail address is unavailable.
Click here for a list of all of Fiery Muse's Stories and Poetry at Sapphic Voices Authoresses.
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