Joy Leftow's Blog, page 5

Noise In My Head

Play my heartstrings like a violin Sweet and bitter like a mandolinUp and down the scale to my chagrinLeft with no more turns, try to find a way inYour face in a stuporous grinWalls of my heart broken down like walls of West BerlinNo answers, like holding me together with a body pinYour pain tattooed on my heart like my car’s VinFeelings strewn in a bin, you complain About selling your brand new SchwinnFeel like a fish caught in net, Alive while getting her fins skinnedWouldn’t feel so much pain if my heart Wasn’t previously scarred by kinAlmost disappear, your thoughts and mind grow thinAlong with your body fleshMade of flesh and blood, not of tinSuffer with words create a fierce din My heads in a spin from all the noiseDesire a way to create a winSearch for what may have beenWhile time eludes us, realize I’m older to begin



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THE WORLD IS A DANGER ZONE

Listen To the Poetry Queen, Violetwrites, Read  plus read while you listen - this is 2nd half - Below is 1st half of poem.

Fear to venture outAfraid of myself Have to hide myself away of my own free willBecause I’m dangerousDangerous to my health and yoursSo try to stay away from meI’m fat so all these layers of fat are there to protect me from you, you, and youI’m the you, the you – you never want to be, you even define yourself by the absence of affect which clearly puts me there at the center, and you look at me and say, “I will never be you! I would never be able to do what you did,” but walk a mile in everyone else’s shoes and somehow you find yourself there, in my shoes and me in yoursThat’s what happens in interchangeable movies, right! We exchange the old for the young and young for the old. Then, somehow, when the young come back to old, who they really are, they all know what they thought they didn’t know, and after the interchange, and exchange, they recall, maintain and retain the change they knew and came back toWhere it all began and where we’ve been, what we learn, what we have to doIt counts if you went to the school of hard knocksPlease don’t send me back thereIt’s how this all began, there, where I was bornNo way to stop the clock, lost in this reverie Each day I’m more unhealthy to myself than the day beforeA cycle of self hate, blame for who you areWho I am who I say I’ll never beIntentions matter say someOthers say only actionsI don’t know who to believeDo I know where I am?I don’t know anything Everyday that I live I know myself less each day I liveI try my best to know Yet what I know is I know less instead of moreWhat a dilemma!I seek peace is hard to findPeacePeace to the planetPeace to all who survive hereWhere Here on our planetPray we humans all survive, animals, all inhabitants survivePeace to allEarth to allSpread the Love and Peace to allOm mani padme humAooommmmmmmmm

A WALL OF POWER

The Western Wall, also called the Kotel is the last remains of the Second Temple of Jerusalem, which formed part of the enclosure of Herod’s temple, resulted in the encasement of a natural steep hill, that became the Temple Mount. The Kotel is holy due to it’s connection to the Temple Mount and is holy to Muslims, Jews, and Christians. This holy place was destroyed the Romans in 70 CE. 
Can a wall really wail or is that a fail-safe fallacy to inspire the fire insideDoes a wailing wall speak to inadequacy inside?Can a wall 2000 years old wail sufficiently to quell my painCan a wall help me see the heartbreak between Abel and Caine?Can this 2000 year-old Western wall help our world find peace?Help nuclear energy threats ceasePray for wars to decreaseHelp humanity stay safe without regretsPray no one forgets the pastThe result of making outcasts leads to a lambaste
Will this wall provide a safe space to do more than cry about what’s left?I try to shrug free of my chains There’s no escaping the Western Wall’s remainsPower soars through my veins, the wall opens my realityFeels like labor pains, I feel my soul strain to let go restraintsAn African lady, dressed in high fashion speaks in tongues I can’t understand. She pounds her chest, pounds the wall with a closed fist, and screams “Jesus” The rest of the words are forecastAfrican Lady’s fist pounds her words into the wall’s veinsA religious Orthodox Jew rolls her eyes momentarily aghast Then returns to her private prayersI try to imagine African Lady’s sorrows as the wall absorbs themOvercome with waves of feeling, I struggle to see through my tears, fears appear,I return my gaze to a wall I don’t know but somehow feel like I’ve been here before, 
Wailing inside, feel all aglow, wait for my soul to be lit by peaceI place my shred of paper with my prayers for our world to healThe wailing western wall, a holy grailMy hand held steady against a small sweet spot of stone, mine momentarily,Press my hand against ancient limestoneCan’t control the flow of my tears Hard to reach through all the bodies to press my hand through Other women clamor to touch the wallMaybe think the wall will heal thePeople from many lands and many religions, Lay our hands on together, on this sacred stonewallAll hope for love, relief, a better life, for everyoneThe wall crowded with thousands of us praying together, People from many lands and many religions all here like oneLay our hands on this sacred stonewall, ancient limestone Pray for family, pray for peace, Pray for a better world Pray humanity will survive, whatever befalls usPray for love, relief, a better life, for loved onesFor everyone, everywhere, humanity together, for once and for all…

Louisiana Catch Book Review By Sweta Srivastava Vikram

Louisiana Catch 
By Sweta Srivastava Vikram
265 pages
Modern History PressAnn Arbor, MI 48105
April 2018 Fiction
ISBN 9781615993543 (ePub, PDF, Kindle, ebook)   $5.35ISBN 9781615993529 (softcover, acid-free paper)      $21.95ISBN 9781615993536 (hardcover, acid-free paper)    $30.09
Caught by surprise, reading about a young lady living and working in New Delhi, I wondered why was Louisiana Catch the title. This became clear later when Ahana visited New Orleans to be with family and to work.  I was glad to become reacquainted with New Orleans through Ahana’s eyes. Through the narrative, I came to know and understand Ahana. I didn’t always agree with Ahana, yet, I always liked her. Ahana comes from a very privileged family, yet that is not enough to protect her from marrying an abusive man, and attracting another man, who at first, she regards as a friend from an online therapy group. 
The subject is very timely with all the “Me Too” today in the news and everyday comes someone new with new accusations. Every day we see people who we thought we respected, arrested and going to jail. Men with money and power have always been keen to use their power to control the women in their professional and personal lives. This book is about women and the power we wield when we stand up for what is right and help others. It is about human rights and also about losing people we love, suffering and finding love. 
Ahana is likeable and a bit naïve. Broken, from a first abusive marriage, she allows herself to fall into paranoia, wondering if he is in touch with her ex-husband and that’s how he knows so much about her. At first, she takes his friendship as a gift and the more he demands and pounds at her emotionally, the more she makes excuses for him, and the more she cajoles him and becomes afraid to confront him, suspicious he may be following her. What woman who has escaped abusive relationships doesn’t know this feeling? Here, I see and say, “me too,” having gone though an abusive marriage myself. And like the “me too” movement shows, when we open ourselves up to the truth, we can finally let go of our fears and our history. 
I think the part of Ahana that needs healing is so wound up and traumatized that she is blind when she meets Jay at an online therapy group for members who have recently lost a parent, after her mother suddenly passes away. She simply takes Jay at his word, and accepts him for who he says he is, someone too who has suffered through a mother’s loss. Every time Ahana asks Jay about himself, no matter how simple, for example, is he dating or where he lives he rebukes her as to why, as his best friend, she is hassling him which results in her feeling guilty and unworthy. Ahana makes excuses for what he says and why, and centers the blame on herself. I assume that this is where the cycle of abuse comes in, and Ahana is unable to see that she is repeating history by letting Jay speak to her in ways that demean her. 
When her household cook and her cousin point out the inconsistencies in Jay’s behavior and more importantly, the negative effects on her, at first she is not ready to listen. Eventually she gets to the point where she clearly sees his game but by this time, she is fearful and paranoid that perhaps Jay knows her husband and has learned about her from him. 
At one point I wanted to yell at her, “Ahana, why are you giving this Jay guy so much importance in your life and why don’t you just cut him out?” At that point I totally identified with Ahana’s cousin, Naina. And why wouldn’t I, since Naina is a mental health professional like myself.
Throughout the novel, Ahana is fighting her demons and has left a high paying position to coordinate a women’s conference to raise awareness about violence and abuse of women, which is part of how she overcomes her own trauma. The other part of how she overcomes her trauma is through her relationship with Rohan Brady, who Ahana must work with on the conference, called NO EXCUSE.  I’m not sure how cell phone service works in India, however I do have an online poetry friend in India who has called me occasionally and he assures me when he calls me I don’t pay, and I never have! 
At one point, early on in the communication between Ahana and Rohan, when Ahana is still in New Delhi, Rohan calls Ahana, and Ahana says she has to hang up because she doesn’t want to pay international fees. There were also a few typos I hope they fixed in the final version. 
Ahana has misjudged Rohan as misogynist because of his online persona.  As for Jay, and his abusive and baiting behavior, it is well past the middle of the book when she finally begins to see through his gameplay, and after everyone around her and even two women in her online therapy group have warned her repeatedly about him. Ahana finally asks her cousin’s husband for help and since he is a police officer, it comes to light that Jay has criminal history. 
In all, the novel is very personal and readable, a quick reader for me, once I got into the details. I was also glad that there was a list of characters in the beginning for review since Indian names are foreign to me, this list made it easy to follow the characters in the beginning. I recommend this novel, to women especially, as this is book is about women and love, violence towards woman and clearly makes the point – that all violence and verbal abuse is always unacceptable. The other important insight is to always tell and not keep abuse a secret. This step is by far, the most important in overcoming tendency to allow abusers or toxic people into your life. Ahana makes this point very clearly in her work. 

ALL ABOUT THAT SEX

You’re a lousy layYeah you can get it up But learning how to satisfy me is too far out of your wayYou’re probably afraid to get lost in furI’ve been with men who know how to do things to turn me onMaking a woman scream is how he gets off tooNaturally knows to doIt’s not mechanical, 
Some men just know how to do itThey know how to let goWhen men let go of their senses They know how to make a woman cryAnd laugh with pleasureWhere are the men who made me Cry out in ecstasy, Did they love me too?Or was it the ones who didn’t possess skillWho loved me the way I want you to doMakes me wonder
Don’t believe that mean learn itIt’s a charm they carry deep within themselvesSweet charm where they let go Is it because that’s all a man got to give Men know what turns me on emotionally but when it comes to sex They don’t know how toSatisfy my soulI wonder if a man needs to opens his soul to make a woman comeProbably all in my mindEasy to know how to enjoy
Your needs or mine, I know how to come All about my mind’s excited Can come and keep coming tooPart of it’s up to you because, yeah, I got my own controlsYeah Yeah …I do what I know how to to myself or to youI can make my own feel – goodsWhat about youDon’t you need and want your own feel –goodsIt’s all about timeI need you to do it tooIt’s like you forgotOr never knewI know the feel good in having my pussy be eat real goodI know the good in screaming and coming again and againBecause other men have done what you can’t do or refuseTo doAt this point it makes no difference if you know how to do Go down on a girl like you’ve never beforeSome know what to doOthers never heard itBut I know what I had beforeAnd you don’t know how to doLike it was done to me before

Let’s Go, Let’s Go, Let’s Go

The stars, the sun and moonSurround me –put me in a swoonWhile I read runesI want the world to know I’m one of youso step aside and let me through,Did you hear what I said,I’m no different from you, you and you, Graduated the school of hard knocksJust like you, came from the wrong sideDidn’t come up easyCan’t you seeWho I am,I said I’m one of you, some of what you are – what you are – Created in some image I create for myself and the stars in the sky,I’m on the brink of expansionAn explosion of words going off in meWords on the horizonWords provide aspirations, a solution to our rotation Of bullshit politicians,Anxiety spreads like a bloodstainFeel another me emerging againThere’s a thrill up on the hillLet’s go, Let’s go, Let’s go
In an explosive moment, puff of smoke at sunset,Like the campfire built at sunset burns out at dusk all by itselfNo one tells it hey fire, listen up, hear me, you’ve run your course, your hearse is on the horizonMy hearts locked inside straining to emerge, a collection of alternatives,Add some trepidation, come to liberation, salvation is near, Not helping to flex, feel like a hex on me. Talk shit like it’s the next recourse, a force of nature to be reckoned with, no worries – Climate change is a no go…Eastern sunlight rays in my skyline vision alive with the flow of colorMesmerizes meMy heart skips a beatA city girl fundamentally, nature claws me with her vibrationsHeartbreak hotel is still a go toZonked out on fresh brewed coffeeFeel another poem birthing inside me

I HATE MY FAT, I WANT TO GO BACK TO THINNER ME

I see you -hiding inside -under so many layers of fat, carefully placed and misplacedInside and outside, you gain and lose in a cycle of fat to thin againI try to see it is me but I see someone else, she’s not me. That woman I see in the mirror, I deny she’s me. I want to stop eating, makes my life so complicated because everything seems to be about food while life becomes more sedentary against my willI don’t know what to do, so many theories about emotionsI want to walk more but my feet hurt, sometimes my hips ache, time chimesReflects my image in a mirror, Caught in a web of suspense to see who I am today cause everyday when I awake I’m a new becoming meBetrayed by my shell, I hide as much of me as I can inside armorKeep crying help, keep on trucking doing what I doMy system runs amuck and a thunder – I wish I could control my mindI’m addicted to food – hard to forego foodEat falafel - fills me up so much, eat Baba -Ghanoush loaded on tons of salad, seems to not matter – no matter what I consume … I can’t say, no excusesDigesting food takes up too much time – I feel like I’m part of organized crime defending sublimeGive me water, honey and lemon- I promise I’ll still surviveI question me– why am I doing this to myselfYet I hide myself watching me, I see myself from the outsideCreep out from the insideI yell free me so I can move with the flowI creep back inside to hide me from myself you know where I’m going with thisFrom humiliation and aspirations all combined, tied with a big purple bowPut in front of you I am me in front of me I see me and become afraid Of who I am that I made me who I am to you I am you in a wounded knee I see who we are Who – attempt to reject self loathingI am me, wounded, beneath who you areHide in plain sight in an underground version of myselfI ride deep waves within myself, diving deeper I fear I’m forever lostWho is the self I claim to be trapped inside me waiting for a way outside myselfNo escape, like a trapped bull in china of life trying to escape from myself Caught in an endless loops of myrioscope kaleidoscope colorEndless blues persist as I judge who I amI see a violet sky inside meExploding in years of painAbstaining from gain I constrain myselfI’m a bloodstain of pain from which I cameI hide from myself and ask how did I ever withstand myselfCaught on a continental shelf I conspire to divide myself, prove myself, I will be a band of oneself to expand and assert myself, I will be a prayer of despair More morbid in bewareNothing works that worked beforeNow I hear all in my headIf I eat properly and see myself thin I will be – really?Compare healthcare Impaired, play side chair in the affair, arise out of nowhere, I exist, I am somewhere, here to defendI am sightseer in my own life, like a replay game in surround sound, can’t understand fear is …So lonely inside, longing for love, I seek, I cry, worth the weight, FATE of my soul, I inquire, FIRE up insightsGET TO BE SEE THE REAL ME

IN REVERIE

In reverie of poetry, permit me to sayI’ve put up with my fair share of despair and let me downs
 -some hard - some easierIt’s all the same, like disappointment about disparaging remarks about my pink hairHair’s faded from bright red I admitHearing insults from important poets known on the scene about my poetry not being “real” poetry My poetry’s not authentic; it’s eccentricI don’t know how you can get more real than meMy poetry is me and then some moreIt has room for me and you in storeYou find yourselves in here, inside a poemBe careful what you say round meI will quote youin a poemIt’s no good to say I should delayYou say and pray I won’t consider putting your words in a poem even though you know that’s what I doRepeat after me – I forbid you to put this in a poemSo if it’s not goose for the gander stop feeding meGive me some respect for what I doI spill my blood and guts for youI receive letters from people who read what I writeI received one today from a nice girl. She said she’s sorry for my life, she feels so sad for me, she’s just glad she’s not here where I am, she wouldn’t know what to do if she stood here where I stand in my shoes,She doesn’t know anyone who’s had it this badShe just don’t know how I manage to survive a life this sadI told her, "Suicide’s a waste of time,I’d rather spend my energy writing poetry."She said, "You suck at poetry!You can’t write “real” poetry anyway."You think I’m pulling your leg?Then whose leg am I pulling? ~Mine?Damn, if I had my legs pulled a little, maybe this hip pain wouldn’t hurt so badSo I’m an old fool who writes poetry – What did you say you do?

Good morning sunshine

Good morning sunshineToday you look so fineLook like you’re dressed to the ninesGood morning sunshineI wish I could sing like Patsy ClineInstead of like my tiny feline
Today I’m feeling turquoise, not quite blue because I’ve got some sunshine inside these cloudy dulls. I’m a scorcher flower who can bear the heat and not wilt todayFeeling turquoise, not quite blue, Kinda midway between a rose and a brunette Rose to face the glory of a new day, a day spiced with rosebuds, My little cinnamon boy, not a toyDoes the bluebird spell Rheingold – ill fit, sit a while, file me away – my mind straysLike a stray branch on a tree, a lone bluebird sits alone, barking up the wrong tree, I see he jes can’t stop himself from falling in a heap under the magnolia tree
Because something got a hold a me I know it must be loveGood morning sunshineMy sweet bliss divineLiving on the inclineThrown together on a lifeline
*Sunshine on a cloudy day – when it’s cold outside I want the month of mayI guess you’d say what can make me feel this way, My guy – my guy talking about my guy
Good morning sunshineToday I don’t need any wineTo make me feel Dr. FeelGoodThe sun is shining I’m a scorcher flower  I won’t wilt today
Think it’s gonna rain today, sky a cloudy silver grayRain the same under these silver gray skiesTurquoise, feeling a yellow shade of blueSunshine peeking through my blindsGood morning sunshineLiving on the sweet side 


*Temptations

A CHANGE IS GONNA COME SOMEDAY

Smell The CoffeeSomething’s brewing out there Not just brewing in my headIt’s not imagined, it’s real, I feel it
Feel it in the way the sun hides behind clouds Feel it in the volatile change of weathersomething’s brewing out here
Time goes by, eventually all life will be deadOur sun’s holding on by a threadNothing will take its stead
Sun doesn’t come out for daysDestruction of our universe Sun pokes through a moment or two Clouds cover sun most days can’t locate sun’s rays or recall sun’s warmth Rare that sun shines through clouds See sun less and less I wonder
Is it the ozone layer, fracking, animal waste run-off, or the GMO’s combined with Roundup and MonsantoDon’t know if the sun will shine once more in all her glory Will she ever be like she used to be once more?End of times, and I wonder when we’ll lose the grid
Chem trails surround us with the lies we’re fedElectric grids fail, flooding, hurricanes and tsunami’s all around Clear established patterns following blindly, eyes wide open yet blind to seeing how quickly earth’s changing storms,  it all from A to ZA new dawn brewing, a new storm brewing,
Day by day we passively follow like domesticated goats in the herd with little bo-peep you don’t hear a peep we get trampled underfoot wild herds of bucks passing by crows squawking trying to read sense while humans go about their business of leading the herd of humans so unbearable they’ve conquered the earth that birthed us forth
The abuse starts up high and is the only trickled down thing among us humans as we abuse our own kind follow the same strategy all the way down the lineSomething’s brewing out thereI smell change coming
A change is gonna come someday