Sue Baiman's Blog, page 8

Circles

Running circles round myself

Backwards and forwards

Russian nesting dolls

And circular logic

One idea inside the next

Or is it the one before?

Fragile

Yet indestructible

Incomprehensible

Thought

Inside thought

Braided together

As if the multiple plies

Would give the logic strength

When sometimes

What it gives

Is a brittleness

Like glass

Sharp shards

Piercing the flesh

When idea overload

Causes my brain

To explode

Curves

Most seductive line

The curve of a woman’s hips

Fuck geometry

Not My Monkey, Not My Circus

Life is a three ring circus

On a good day

It’s just the three rings

The performances are flawless

The animals obedient

Blue skies and cotton candy

But it’s still a circus

On the not-so-perfect days

And let’s face it

If your lucky

You get maybe three perfect days

A year

And on those

Less-than-stellar days

The clowns are creepy

Their car has a flat

You’re knee deep

In elephant dung

The ringmaster

Is riding the bareback performer

The tigers have eaten the poodles

And the number of rings

Has become infinite

I used to let

Every little thing

Annoy the fuck

Outta me

Until I learned

Two things

The first being

That everyone has issues

And by issues I mean

Fears and struggles and insecurities

In addition to the everyday stuff

Like bills and kids

Coworkers and family members

We all have pet peeves

And character flaws

Idiosyncrasies

And last straws

But the other thing I learned

Is that I don’t

Have to let

Every little thing

Get to me

I need to remember

That you have a monkey

On your back

Just like me

So I’m going to

Try to not add to your stresses

But I certainly don’t

Have to let you

Or your monkey

Become my monkey

I’ve worked really hard

To shrink

My own monkey

Down to a size

Where I can

Pick him up

Off my back

And tuck him in my pocket

I’ve learned to deal with

Just one ring of my circus of a life

At a time

So while I’ll gladly help you

If asked

To assist you in your stunts

Or crack the whip

At the beasts in your life

I’m getting pretty good

At sticking

To my own tent

And if you notice

A bemused smile

Creep onto my face

While you are in the throes

Of a dramatic moment

It’s because I’m reminding myself

That you are

Not my monkey

And not my circus

Mercurial

I like to think of myself as ADD enabled. But there are times (far too many times)when this is decidedly not an advantage. I think it helps me at work because I have to flit back and forth between many different tasks at once but when I need to, I can hyperfocus. But outside of work, I have a constant struggle to stay on one thing long enough to accomplish anything.

Tonight when I was trying to think of ideas for today’s poem, I got one idea and before I could even begin to flesh it out, it was gone into the ether. Almost immediately another one came along. And another, And another. The only problem is that no one wanted to stay and see how any one of the ideas turned out.

So, my mercurial mind became the over arching thought…

 

Quick silver thoughts

Flitting from idea to idea

Squirrels for brains

Branch to branch

To branch again

Hamsters in balls

Squeaky exercise wheels

Runaway train

In a powerful storm

Lightning strikes

Hot sizzling

Gone again

In a puff of hot air

Vaporized

Even as the fried synapses

Fire in the hole

Look out below

Fast of feet

No fleet of foot

Fancy pants

Dancing in time

Wish you were mine

Winged god

Delivery boy

Helmeted ready for battle

Of wits

All is lost

In a flurry of ideas

Words dripping down

To puddle on the paper

Blender on high

Ice crushing colors

As they swirl down the drain

Around in my brain

Sparkling and shiny

Poisonous to the touch

But they aren’t much

Just all the bits and pieces

That make up me

Mindfulness

Weekdays spent
Punching a clock
Pushing myself
To be perfect
To do more
To learn more
Constantly striving
Improving and thriving
But that constant attention
To all the outward details
Means my focus
Is without
Instead of within
And eventually
I feel like I’ve derailed

Suddenly I’m exhausted
My head hurts
And I’m nauseous
These are my body’s way
Of reminding me
To be mindful
Of myself
To ignore the todo list
And focus on the basics
Like sleep
Nutrition
Exercise
And meditation

When this happens
My personal productivity
On those projects
That mean so much to me
Because they are
Not about work
But about love
Drops to nothing
Adding guilt to the mix
Of negative emotions
Until I take a step back
To evaluate
And re-evaluate

And this mindfulness
Of my inner
And outer well being
Has taught me
That those projects
No matter how much I love them
Are worthless
If I’m not healthy
And able to give them
My all

So while I may need
To adjust timetables
Deadlines or projections
I’d rather do that
While being mindful
Of my self
Then end up sick
And doing less
Than my best
On those things
That deserve my all

So sometimes
I take a step back
To fix what ails me
On an emergency basis
All the while
Learning 
To be more mindful
Of myself
And those I care about
On a daily basis
So that eventually
The emergencies
No longer happen
And I can live
A more mindfull
Existence

Frivolous and Ridiculous

Frivolous and ridiculous

Elephants in pajamas

These are the things I need

When I’m in a place of sadness

A little silliness and madness

To wipe away the blues

When all my wandering thoughts

Lead me back to you

Kitten turning cartwheels

Puppies on parade

Internet memes

When I’m tired and afraid

Bright colors

Blue and red and gold

And a raucous calliope

Playing circus songs of old

I can’t miss you any more

Than I already do

And I know you want me

To dry up all these tears

So I’m wracking my brain

For crazy and offbeat

Laughing hyenas

And creepy clown leers

Okay, maybe the creepy clowns

Is not what I need

Instead some more funny cats

Or knitting humor

Or maybe what I need

Is just more time

Cause distracting myself

Only make me miss you more

Ridiculous and frivolous

Work for a few minutes

But they can’t undo the pain

Or shake this weird feeling

I’d like to just go to bed

And put the silliness away

But there are pygmies in the hallway

And wombats on my ceiling

The Exhausted and Aching Rejoicing of the Soul

At the end of a very long day

At the end of a long-ish string

Of very long days

I am tired and my whole body hurts

No, that’s not quite true

I’m not tired

I’m exhausted.

This is tired to the tired power

My brains melted

And oozed out of my ears

To puddle on the floor

Days ago

I shuffled to my car

Like an old woman

Who misplaced both her Getitol

And her walker

And the aching part

Or parts really

Because there isn’t a square inch

Of my body that doesn’t hurt

I push myself

To do what needs done

When it comes down to

The financial realities of life

But as much as I’m tired

Or my joints are on fire

These feelings are blessings

In disguise.

First because I’m fortunate

To have a good job; or really, any job

But especially one with opportunities

To work the extra hours

But beyond that

Being tired and achey

Means I’m alive

Have you thought about that?

If I have aches and pains

If I’m tired

It means I’m still here

And my time hasn’t expired

So each trial or hardship

Each annoyance

And aggravation

Is preferable to not being here

And while it’s damn difficult

To remember that lesson

When dealing with some

Of mankind’s finer specimens

It’s worth reminding ourselves

To look at the alternatives

And remember to rejoice

In everything we experience

For in the experience

Whether you judge it as good or bad

There is life

And life should make your soul rejoice.

 

Listen

This started with the idea of paying more attention to the world around us. Being present in the moment. When we meditate, we’re supposed to quiet all thoughts and just pay attention to our breathing. But even those of us that practice meditation often find ourselves getting caught up in the craziness of our everyday lives. What happens when we stop and purposefully become more observant?

Each of the stanzas of this piece is also intended to function as a complete micro poem of five lines on its own. I like the interconnectedness of multiple little poems that are just fine on their own yet make up something bigger together. Kind of reminds me of all of us.

 

Listen to the birds

Twittering and chirping

Celebrating the new day

The new dawn

In song

Listen to the cat

Hurrying you into the day

Because he’s thirsty

And only you have thumbs

To work the faucet

Listen to your neighbors

As you pass in the street

Quiet hellos

Acknowledging

Another day of work ahead

Listen to your car

Your trusty steed

The quiet purr

Of a faithful companion

With a plastic hide

Listen to all the little sounds

We take for granted

Every day

They are a symphony

Of beauty in the mundane

Listen to your inner voices

The things you tell yourself

Quietly hush

The negative one

Constantly criticizing

Listen for the positive voice

The one that notices

Each little improvement

Every step in the right direction

On your journey through life

Listen to musicians and artists

Let their voices

Their creations

Inspire greatness

In you

Listen to the scientists

And inventors

Let the possibilities

And new technologies

Inspire you to dream

Listen to the storytellers

As they imagine new worlds

That they may inspire you

To journey

Beyond the known

But most importantly

Listen to your soul

To your dreams and desires

Follow these voices

As they lead you higher

For though you may work hard

More will you achieve

When you listen to the world

Listen to yourself

And believe.

Diamonds

This one started simply because it was raining outside today. I glanced out the window, saw that it was a grey dreary rainy day and suddenly this image of this couple in the rain at night under a streetlight was in my head telling me that things were beautiful and sparkly even in the rain.  I’m not sure yet if I overshot the ending point and need to trim this back, or if there’s more of the story to tell…I guess I’ll figure that out in a few months or so when I revisit it.  Much like the way a novelist puts their manuscript in a drawer for a few months once it’s complete before they come back to edit it, I prefer to leave my first drafts sit here for a while as I go on to write other things. That way, when I come back, everything is fresh and I can look at each piece with a much more critical eye.

So, for now….here’s “Diamonds”…

 

Sparkling droplets

Cascading into the night

Tiny points of light

Shimmering neath the street lamps

Phosphorescent glow

Cold moisture

Meets hot pavement

In a staccato onslaught

The resulting haze

Mysterious misty maze

Jumbled thoughts

As she meets his gaze

She brushes up against him

And he is fraught with desire

Pulse accelerating

Every nerve on fire

She is everything

He’s ever wanted

And the only one

Who understands his need

Whose greed for him

Matches his for her

He is the wealthiest of men

For she is the brightest gem

And as the rain pours down

He wraps her in his arms

Pulling her close

To shelter her

Even though he knows

She is stronger than he

When it comes to being fierce

In the face of life’s storms

He silently mourns

Their lack of privacy

As he pulls her closer

Holds her tighter

He softly kisses her ear

Her neck wet from the rain

Iridescent jewels

Decorate her hair

Not half as sparkling

As her laughter

When he whispers

That her gala awaits

And she will have to wait

Till the party’s over

To discover the surprise

He has in store for her

 

Margin Notes

Each day is written

One instant at a time

The actual deeds that transpired

While our feet were mired

In the everyday

The requirements

That drain our energy

Steal our power

Every minute

Every hour

If only we could stop time

To move our thoughts

From the banal

To the sublime

Go back over our days

Remembering the thoughts

That made up our desires

That remain undone

Because their frivolity

Was a far distant second

To the necessities

Writ large upon the page

I would write notes

In the margins down the page

Those desires and hopes

Left in my brain every day

My wildest imaginings

And deepest desires

Moments of zen

And my lustiest fires

Of unbridled passion

If only in my daydreams

Loosed on the page

Scrawled in shaky hand

Musings of my unrealized existence

Lost to the history of deeds

And bad handwriting

A marginalized accounting

Of lost dreams

And broken promises

I once made to myself

And then to take those notes

Those edits of my own acts

And re-write the page

To use future days

My personal plays

So I may strut and fret

My own hour

Upon a stage

Of my own creation

That my actions

Do signify something

A life well lived

Revelling in the sunlight

Out from under

The shadows of past timidity

Living on the page

Center stage

No longer in the margins.