Sue Baiman's Blog, page 16

Early Morning Thoughts

There is peace in knowing

That I am in your thoughts

As you are always in mine

And I know I am loved deeply

But I still miss your touch

The early morning stillness

When I wake far too early

And the world is so quiet

And I’m alone with my thoughts

My skin aches for your touch

I miss feeling the heat of you

Softly sleeping next to me

Snuggling against you

Gently waking you with kisses

And enveloping you in me

I miss whispering in the dark

As the sun warms the horizon

Rediscovering your face

With each shift of the light

Kissing away my darkness

I miss trailing fingers down your back

Dragging nails back up

Making love to you

In the pre-dawn glow

Of the miracle of another day together

But mostly I miss your eyes

Seeing my love for you

Reflected back to me

And the joy on your face

When you don’t know I’m watching

Criticism

I still have days

When no matter

How much I accomplish

I feel like a failure

Paralyzed by fear

Transfixed

Trembling

I look at these things

That I am creating

And for a moment

I feel pride again

Until I wonder

How they will be received

By the people

Who matter to me

Or by the person

Who shouldn’t

And usually doesn’t

Until he condemns me

Yet again

In vitriol

And what about

When complete strangers chime in

Will their words matter

Or only if they praise

My pendulum

Is a constant motion machine

That I wish I could still

If I didn’t care

I wouldn’t aim for perfection

So I suppose I do create

For other people

Even when the momentary truth

Is that these words

Are for me

I wish that when I share them

I could filter the responses

Because I don’t think

People understand

The power of their words

I only hope

That I can be stronger

Than their criticism

Your Little Girl

The grey is threatening

To overtake the brown

And wrinkles are finally

Starting to crease my face

And still I sit here sobbing

Like a little girl

Your little girl

Trying to figure out

What I need to do

To hear you tell me

That you’re proud of me

And when the answer never comes

Wondering why I still care

Because I know it shouldn’t matter to me

All that should matter

Is that I’m proud of myself

Love myself

Take pride in my work

My words

And know that others

Love me

And are proud of me

And I do know these things

But the little girl in me

The one that will always be

Your little girl

Can’t be logical

When it comes to you

And your love

She wants to show you dammit

Wants to go one better

Do something more

Hold out her struggles

And every little achievement

Waiting with held breath

And barely held back tears

Waiting for you to notice

And validate her tiny triumphs

My tiny existence

Even when she knows

It will never be enough

She will never be enough

I will never be enough

And I wonder if maybe

I’m just too sensitive

Too needy

For something you probably

Aren’t even aware of

And I’m sure if I pointed it out

That you would be shocked

And tell me how silly I am

Thereby dismissing my feelings

And me

Yet again

And I wish I could give up

Give up needing your approval

Give up needing to hear you say

That you’re proud of me

That I matter

That I’m still here

That my words have any meaning

That I’m your little girl

Little Poems

I like writing

And reading

Little poems

That tell little stories

About our everyday existence

About unremarkable days

And all our little challenges

Like packing a lunch

For a small child

Who will barely eat half

Because the world

Is a big scary place

And he’d rather be safe at home

Than out learning things

Like how to write his name

In looping

Curving letters

Or how multiplication

And division

Are just addition

And subtraction

On a grander scale

When he really needs to figure out

How to love and be loved

So that the world

Can be less scary

And the little victories

Like when the child

Comes home

At the end of the day

That to a child lasted a lifetime

Because when you’re small

Time is different

And a whole day at school

Away from hugs

And naps

And mom

Is an eternity

And grins

Not because he ate all his lunch

But because he made a friend

And you grin

In return

Because he found some happiness

And forgot to be scared

And finally

Just ate his lunch

And it’s those little victories

Those little moments

Of forgetting

Of joys

And moments

That make life

Magical

Those little pleasures

That make

My little poems

Juicy

Skin so soft

The words velvet

And kitten

Spring to mind

The color of sunrise

That first blush

Of embarrassed

Adolescence

Your hand

Lazily caressing

Admiring

Beauty

Young flesh

Firm under

Your fingertips

Still ripening

I watch you

Fighting urges

Biting my lip

To stay silent

How I long

To be touched

By that same hand

Those fingers

And yet I sit here

Across from you

Marble table between

A slab of ice

Keeping me cool

Else I would melt

Into a puddle

Of desire

Watching you

Select the one

Ripe and ready

Perfect peach

Fondling it

One last time

As you slowly

Raise it to your lips

The faintest hint

Of a smile

Twitches the corner

Of your sensuous mouth

As you kiss

This plucked fruit

All the while

Staring me down

Your ravenous nature

Belied by your reserve

Betrayed by the fire

In your eyes

Your teeth

Slowly sink in

Juice cascading

Down your beard

A whimper escapes me

Your eyes flash triumph

And I’m just glad

I’m next

War Zone

I’ve never been shot at;

Never had a shell hit near me.

But I’ve flown out of my chair

As my fight or flight response

Kicked in;

And the tsunami of adrenaline

Flooded every cell

Before I could even process

What caused the explosion

In the first place.

You went through training,

Learning to be ready.

Procedures and practices

On how to protect yourself

Drilled.

And then drilled some more.

I feel like I’ll never learn

I don’t have a guard to drop

Because how do you guard yourself

Against someone you once loved?

How do you protect yourself

From a tone of voice?

If no one has ever laid a hand on you,

Let alone pointed a real weapon

In your direction,

What is there to fear?

How can someone else’s anger

Cause this response in me?

What’s wrong with me?

That even an angry text

(Where the only place

I hear that tone of voice

Is in my head

As I read the words)

Causes me to shake?

I’ve learned about conditioned responses

And worked on reconditioning myself.

I feel like Pavlov’s fucking dog.

And I’m angry

That I didn’t get a say in this.

I would never have knowingly chosen

To take this on

To experience this–

The instant of panic

When my only thoughts

Are of getting to safety,

Getting my back

Up against the wall

So I’m less vulnerable–

Again and again.

I wish I could pinpoint

That moment.

Those words.

Where I went from being

A participant in arguments,

To being a victim of emotional abuse.

Was there a line?

When did it get crossed?

And by whom?

I’m not even sure

What fear it was that got associated

With his voice, with him.

The thing I was (am) most afraid of

Was (is) not being able to survive financially.

Then there was (is) the fear of being alone.

The fear of failure.

Of being unlovable.

That I deserved this.

And I’ve had to deal with these

As a result of that anger.

Those arguments.

Yet I remember other times,

Earlier times,

When I felt fear

When I heard his anger.

And so I wonder at what point

Did a little fear

Morph into this mushroom cloud?

And when did I enlist?

You did three tours.

And you’ve been shot at.

You have a right to this.

I didn’t fold the laundry.

I left a mess of dirty dishes,

And unfinished projects,

And piles of stuff,

In my wake.

I was unfaithful.

And ungrateful.

Undignified,

And socially inept.

Who am I

To have this?

How did this happen?

Or is this just something else

That I’m imagining

Along with the voice

He says he never raised?

How is it possible

That when I hear you,

A soldier,

Talk about the difference

Between the black and white world

Of normal people

Suddenly exposed to stress,

Compared to what it’s like

To live at a constant state of alertness,

To be at yellow,

I completely understood

Not just what you meant,

But what that feels like?

When the battles are long over

How do you ever

Finally

Completely

Leave the war zone?

Why I Write Poems

I arrange

My various neurosis

And emotional instabilities

Into little word phrases

In the hopes

Of trapping them

There on the page

So that I am free

To temporarily

Live my life

Until they get free

And find me again

Inspiration

I put words down

On digital paper

Siphoned from my anxiety

And fear

And they do nothing

These thoughts

Once locked away

Freed and purged

Rid me of these beasts

Jealous, snarling, howling

And when they refuse to leave

I close my book

Close the gate

I can’t push them through

Open someone else’s brain

And read their imaginings

Glory and revel

In their grey matter

Feel their fears

Sliding over my skin

Forsaking my own

As theirs becomes mine

I learn more about myself

In those moments

When I am thinking about them

Than when I navelgaze

And yet that translates

To the words I bleed

More than the air I breathe

Your words transcribed

Inform my words

As much as

Or maybe more than

The experiences once lived

And loved and loathed

By my own hands

That crawl out

Into existence

Now their own

Yet from these cages

Transcribed in blood

Flowers of joy bloom

Understanding

Is the warmth of day

The lapis sky

That quiets the cur

Sending the beasts

Away from the gates

So that the joyful creatures

Of love and bliss

Can be writ instead

And then my words

Dance and leap

Into existence

Pirouetting shyly

When they think I’m not looking

May My Words Grow Wings

I don’t need words

When I’m with you

I know your dreams

And desires

I know your fears

I know how to please you

And torturously tease you

Without a single syllable

You don’t need words

When you’re with me

You know my every swirling

Emotion and thought

You know how to calm me

With a look

A touch

I am your instrument

And orchestra

Wordlessly tuned

By your loving hand

The notes you play

The songs I sing

Mystical music

Of passions embrace

No words required

And yet when the beats

Of our pounding pulses

Have faded into the quiet

Of silent sensuality

And the only sound

Is  your smile

I whisper to you

Things you already know

Words of love

Not so that you know them

Because I already know you do

Not so that you hear them

Because I know there is no sound

That I make that you don’t hear

I say these things

To give them flight

To make them real

To put them out into the world

That they may grow wings

And live forever

My love for you

Decadence

Immersing myself in you

Losing myself

To the pleasures

Of us

Feels like

What I imagine

Is the tactile equivalence

Of the decadence

Of swirling

The most amazing chocolate

Of the perfect temperature

And consistency

Around

On your tongue.

And if that flavor

Could be translated

Into touch

It would be this

Laying here

In your arms

Interconnected

Exhausted

In bliss