Sue Baiman's Blog, page 15

At a Loss for Words

Sometimes I find myself

At a complete loss of words with you

Not because I have nothing to say

In fact, quite the opposite

There are so many things

I want to tell you

Need to tell you

All competing for my breath

And I worry about how I sound

What you think

If I make sense

And so many other silly things

I want to tell you

That nothing matters

But some days everything matters

Most importantly, you matter

I don’t care what anyone else thinks

I care what you think

I care that you are happy

And balanced, and sane

I want to tell you how smart you are

I want to remind you to be kind to yourself

Look out for yourself

The world is often an unkind place

I want to tell you that your happiness

Matters more to me than my own

That I will do anything in my power

To make sure you experience happiness every day

I need to tell you that I believe in you

And have from the first instance

That you will succeed

But you must persevere

These and so many more

Are the thoughts I have for you

That I can’t always convey

But am thinking just the same

And when this happens

The only words I have

Are so simple yet profound

I love you

So when I suddenly remind you

Of this simple truth

I hope you know

That all of this is in there too

Sue

Our Happy Ending

Tell me your deepest secrets

And your biggest fears.

Then tell me your hopes,

And dreams,

And wildest desires.

After you’ve told me these things

And I have told you mine,

We will sit side by side

Holding hands

Leaning against each other,

While we figure out

Where we are,

How to keep the demons at bay,

And the path to take

To make our dreams come true.

And while I know you doubt,

That that can happen for you;

I have none.

Maybe I’m just too stupid

To see what can’t be done.

Or maybe I’m just crazy enough

To make the impossible real.

Either way, I know

That as long as our hands are joined,

Our happy ending

Is just waiting

For us to write it.

Sue

Morning Mist

Morning mist blanketing

Each particle of moisture

Hanging heavy in the air

The time of day past the end of the night

Yet before the break of day

When the darkness is absolute

A blue black so dark

That it’s more than black

The air so wet

If you listen closely

You can almost hear the ocean

The sound to match the feel

Of the sea foam spray

Hanging in the air

The moment when the darkness

Begins to creep away

Is always a mystery

Suddenly the India ink air

Is a grey and rose watercolor

Bleeding off to the east

And she appears

Tricks of the light

A gossamer gown

Swirling around her hourglass form

Hair the color of autumn leaves

Sunlight swirling

Birds orchestrating her entrance

On the stage

Backlit in pinks and peach

Spotlight trying to cut through the haze

As she dances on the light

But by the time

You’ve caught your breath

She has disappeared into

Another day

Sue

On Girls and Pineapples

This poem was inspired by something a friend’s 7 year old son said. “I love the cultural mix of girls and pineapples.” So, thank you Theo for the inspiration.

Instantly recognizable

Symbol of sweetness

Of entire cultures

But the simplicity

Of these silhouettes

Belies the complexity

And contradictory natures

Of both.

They can be hard to reach

Requiring a person

Both brave and strong

They can be prickly

Rough on the outside

Hiding their sweetness

From plain view

But the person

Brave enough

Strong enough

And smart enough

To obtain either

And spends the time

And patience

To get past the defenses

Of either a pineapple

Or a girl

Will be richly rewarded

Sue

Walking By the Water

The voices whisper,

Flowing along the water

Like the one cool breeze

On a hot summer day.

Searching for a heart

That needs breaking;

A heart aching

Ready for that last little push,

With words of doubt

And distrust.

People strolling

Along the water’s edge;

Young and fit jogging,

Older with more memories

Packed around their middles,

Seemingly impervious

To the dying whispers

Of love’s last gasp.

The raspy voices

From a millennia ago,

Rolling low across the surface

Of the water like a mist.

They tell of betrayal,

Of failures so small

As to be monumental.

Of elemental fissures

In a suit of armor,

Leaving you vulnerable

To attack

From a momentary

Lack of faith.

They laugh with the rolling waves;

That undercurrent

Of discordant sound,

The single seagull

Of impending doom,

On a beautiful summer’s day.

When no matter how bright,

They bring a shadow

That you can only see

Out of the corner of your eye.

They are that gut feeling

You didn’t realize

Was whispered in your ear.

Can’t you feel them

Winding whispy tendrils

Up your body?

That feeling of distrust?

Of dread?

They are relentless;

Tugging at you

Like a needy child,

Taunting you

Until you just want to scream.

But the sun is shining,

And the people you pass

In the park

Seem surreally happy.

As if they are in on this,

Like some sick twisted joke.

Sue

Perfectly Just Me

I imagine my brain

As a giant magnetic board

With all the little magnet words

Clinging to it

I move the words around

Arranging and rearranging them

To suit my whim

One day I group them by parts of speech

Fondling the adjectives gently

Slowly

Lovingly caressing them

Knowing how secretly jealous

Doing so will make my novelist friends

Then I attempt to group them

By the way they make me feel

Happy words

Angry words

Cold and lonely

Or wrapped in your warm embrace words

I try to pick and chose

The best from all the rest

But they are all the same, just words

The difference is in me, my moods

When I read other poets

It’s as if they reach into my brain

Putting the words in orders

I never would have chosen

I stare at them for days

These familiar words

In unfamiliar orders

That are so amazing

Wishing I could do what they do

Use more metaphor

Have a deeper meaning

But the order I put them in

Is so uniquely me

So I’m learning about

Ordering these words

Making them march to my music

Asking them to play my song

And as long as I’m the one

Putting them in some order

They will always be

Perfectly just me

Sue

Dreaming of Butterflies

I keep dreaming of butterflies

Hundreds and thousands

Of butterflies

Swarms of yellow

Settling on every inch

Of me

I cannot move

I can scarcely breathe

Until, as one, they take flight

And I gasp for air

Stunned by their movement

Temporarily freed

From the beautiful prison

They hold me in

So fragile

And beautiful

Yet I am chained

To this spot

Knowing one wrong move

And their tiny wings

Will cut my skin

Shredding me to ribbons

I’m paralyzed by my fears

Not of failure

Because I know the odds

Are against me

And even if I fail

I’ve gained so much

Just by attempting

No, my fear

So beautiful in its flight

Is that you don’t know

And won’t notice

That I do these things

Not just to prove to myself

That I can do anything

But to make you proud of me too

My pride in myself

Means nothing without you

And I am stunned

By this realization

Brought on by butterflies

And while it’s good

I suppose

To know what my soul desires

Why butterflies?

Will I dream of butterflies again?

And can I keep them

From imprisoning me again?

I want to turn them

From yellow gold

Into purple pink

And let them

Fly

Away

And maybe someday

You will look at me

And tell me

How proud you are of me

And we can watch butterflies

Take flight

Together

Sue

Darkness

This one needs a disclaimer. I’m doing great physically, emotionally, every ly you can imagine. This just needed to be written. The more I understand my depression, the better I’m able to cope. So fear not…

It covers me,

Envelops me,

Reaches down into my soul,

Roots twining around

Until it’s all I know.

I wonder if it grows

From these roots

I see and feel and taste.

How far out from me

Does it reach,

This nothingness

I didn’t seek?

Can others see me?

Am I really me?

Or have I become it?

Did I leave myself behind?

And yet, here I sit.

How do I name

What I can’t see?

When it’s the very thing

Keeping me from me?

Stagnation?

Fear?

This cloud of what?

Doubt?

This thing I can’t figure out.

Has my depression

Taken physical form?

Or is my mind

Really this strong?

And if this is

In truth a part of me,

Do I really need

My eyes to see?

This creature I hide from

That may in fact be me

What does it want?

On what does it feed?

Do I find the blood

Of an innocent

To sacrifice

And win back my life?

And who would that be?

Innocent certainly isn’t me.

What brought this demon?

Did I call it here?

And if so,

Can I send it back

And remove my fear?

The frustration of this thing,

To be stuck inside

Something you can’t name.

Something so dark

No light passes through.

And yet,

Invisible too.

No one else can see it.

Yet somehow they see me

Even when I can’t see myself.

But the evidence of me

Doesn’t stay for very long.

I want to write the happiness

Put it down in words

That I and you can read aloud

When we need to remember

And banish the dark

But happiness isn’t always

Found within my words

Or within me

And certainly not in you

Your darkness is different

From mine

We each have our own

And they look as different

On the outside

As each of us

For they are us

This blackness of the mind

Today is not the end

Of me or this thing

It’s just another day

When darkness descends

I will have many more

But I also vaguely remember

Being bathed in light and love

And on days like this

I search my memory

For those thoughts

To wield as swords

Sharp truths

To kill this lie of darkness

Sue

Thoughts on My Writing

Due to some recent comments here that have since been removed (along with the posts themselves), it occurred to me that if one person didn’t understand the nature of my writing then perhaps he isn’t the only one. So here are some thoughts on my work and this space (in no particular order).

This space is my personal site. I don’t have ads up. I don’t post guest posts. I welcome comments if and when they are pertinent and not personal attacks on me in some way. I’m thrilled that people are reading my work. But if for some reason, you don’t care for me or my words, that’s fine. Don’t read them then. I’m okay with that. I’m not okay with someone telling me I suck or that I’m a poor excuse of a human being. Get off my lawn.

While many of my poems are autobiographical, not all are. Some are simply situations I imagine and explore. This is creative writing. Sometimes it’s fiction, sometimes non. Please don’t assume one way or the other.

Sometimes, I write about a feeling or situation long after it happened. If its something personal, sometimes having achieved some distance from an event makes it easier to go back and revisit it to get some closure. I use words to help me figure things out.

Additionally, I use words to explore themes. With complex emotional or interpersonal things, often it takes me many poems to feel like maybe I’m finally saying what I want to say. The truth is I almost never think the words I write say what I want. So I keep trying. To understand the issue. Understand my reactions to things. Understand them in general terms. And to understand how the general relates to my specific circumstances. And the understanding has nothing to do with being able to express the whole mess either. So hopefully this explains why I go over the same ground repeatedly sometimes.

Many of these themes are big ones. Universal ideas around life and love. Betrayal, anger, abuse. Falling in or out of love. Looking for love. Life, the universe, and everything. So I doubt I’m going to ever feel like I’ve completely exhausted any of these.

The poems I post here are usually first drafts. I like to keep them here in one place. I write spontaneously and they need to sit for a while before I can go back to them and edit them objectively. And yes, I edit. This is something relatively new to me. I used to believe that however they were at the moment of creation, that’s how they needed to stay. I think I still feel that way about the little poems (haiku and 5 lines). But I’ve been pushing myself to write longer, more complex works and these need to be polished. The little poems are polished by the forms themselves during creation. So on the longer works, if you have thoughts on ways you think they can be improved, I’d love to hear them.

I think that’s everything. Meanwhile, I’m sure if I’ve forgotten something the universe will find a way to let me know.

If you have any thoughts on this or anything here (provided you’re not telling me how terrible I am…I can do that for myself but thanks for the thought) drop a note in the comments.

Thank you for reading!!

Cheers,

Sue

Dancing

Changing old behaviors

Destructive behaviors

Ineffective or useless behaviors

Is hard

Harder than giving birth

Harder than giving in

Harder than giving up

I’ve done them all

But hard is not impossible

Hard takes work

Hard takes repeated attempts

Hard takes perseverance

And persistence

And banging your head into the wall

Kicking yourself in the ass

And forgiving yourself

When you have only yourself

To blame

You move two steps sideways

One step back

Three steps forwards

And another one back

Dancing your way

Towards a better you

Change is a beautiful thing

When it’s the kind of change

That lets you be more you

Lets you move on

Lets you heal the wounds

And discover the love

That’s been with you all along

So dance that dance

Revel in every step

The forwards

The backwards

And the turns in place

Just keep dancing

Your way