The Poetry Marathon

Hurry, Hurry!

I’m late for a very i.portant date

Like the White Rabbit,

I am often scurrying to and fro

Usually with multiple children in tow.

And it never fails,

No matter where I’ve hurried off to-

It is more of the same

Life has become a waiting game.

And that’s why I am trying to learn

To stope and smell the roses-

And why I don’t mind being just a tad bit late.

I am the kind if girlfriend who learns your Buttons

I know when it is okay to have some fun and push them.

I know when you’re not in the mood to play and this best to keep my button pushing at bay.

Tonight, I’m not trying to send you over the edge, but this here outfit is designed to send men and women, too over the edge

Couple it with my words put together to create vivid imagery…

I’m secretly pleading this isn’t the button that makes you call it quits

Cause I’m not playing games and I’m not trying to push any buttons

And I hope you remember, that it’s your shit I want to deal with

And no one elses.

But for now, it is time for the show and I’ve gotta go.

Why did I do I do this?

Was it because I thought I could deliver some creative justice

To a world that is hurting, its black and blue bruises starting to show through?

What made me think my voice could change anything?

What words could I string together- that would unite us in love?

I am tired.

I don’t want to go on.

This banner no longer something I want to carry.

I’m fairly certain this gibberish makes no sense.

I’ve got a show to do, so I’m off to get ready.

Folks, these hours are about to get heavy.

But I am a Johnson

And quitters we were not raised to be.

I do not give myself license to give up.

There is no permission granted to walk away.

On this course, I must stay.

Oh, but I’m tired and I long for the day

When I can put this marathon behind me

And just be

Me on my marry way.

My name isn’t Sam.

I won’t pester you to eat

Foods that have somehow managed to survive years beyond their shelf life.

I won’t ask you to do silly things like give mice cookies or milk in glasses.

Instead, I’ll invite you to come spend days in the sun

A day with me and you’ll understand the pleasantness of sharing farmer’s tans.

I won’t beg you to go on trips all over,

Instead, I’ll invite you to shovel stalls filled with poo

And I’ll show you the time you ever had-

With a horse under your ass.

Yep, hang with me and you will see-

This is life as it’s meant to be-

And it’s better than any kid’s story could possibly be!

My brain is starting to hurt.

My mind is weary.

I’m not sure I’m doing this right.

New stuff is scary.

It’s like standing naked in front of an audience and you’re all hairy- especially if you’re prone to like being a hair-free zone.

It is  watching your child jump from the roof purposely doing their best to give a ginormous fright.

This is motherhood. Are you ready?

Trauma.

Everyone has experienced it on some level.

No one’s trauma is greater than someone else’s.

No one can tell anyone else how their personal trauma should affect them.

A month ago, trauma found its way to my home.

And that is how I ended up with a roommate.

My three year old has taken over.

There are crumbs in the bed, from midnight snacks he thinks he’s sneaking

(But really, I’m just relishing silence night time brings me (more…)

Everything is closing in.

I live in a castle, with gargantuan rooms

And regal tapestries

But, I’m feeling more like Rapunzel-

Trapped in a tower

In this state, I have no power

The more I perspire, the smaller things become.

I am trapped

Everything is just beyond reach-

Healing, Growth, Newness

I see it, but I’m sure that peace isn’t for me.

Anxiety is a bitch

An itch I’d rather not scratch

But like chicks in spring, it must come forth

It must be hatched

And with it, new terrors unleashed.

To the choir you preach,

So your sermons you can keep

Pardon me if I don’t try to escape

I’ve given that up as futile.

And no, I can’t stay for awhile-

I’ve made my peace

And accepted my fate

Anxiety will always be here and it has closed me off from life that I love

So I will just rest in this room that is too small and has become my coffin.

And, really, there’s no need for you to check in.

Just let that sink in…

Anxiety wins

Now, I ask, is that really so much a sin or more so me giving in?

So many years had gone by

It didn’t feel like you’d missed any moments away

We talked

You encouraged me

And when it was time for goodbyes

Arms extended to embrace you in a hug

Grabbed nothing but missed air

An alarm sounded and you instantly vaporized,

Like a magician, you disappeared

And I awoke with tears in my eyes.

It felt so real

You looked and sounded so alive.

I was fooled once again-

It always happens when dusk turns to night

You’d think I’d learn by now

You won’t be here, come morning’s first light.

These past few weeks have had me thinking I hadn’t done anything right.

Friends, partners and associates, alike had me questioning if the path I was on, was the right flight.

I, who had love for everyone, couldn’t understand-

This abandonment that came from no where, yet seemed orchestrated and planned.

Great care was taken as every detail of my demise was checked off and executed with great precision.

A lesser man would have succumb to your withdrawl-

Started feening for your affections

Like a slave in chains begs to be free and an addict clamors for the next fix…

But wisdom is more powerful than all that.

And He used this very thing to grab my attention-

Where once it was had, he failed not to mention

All the places I was going and the success I am destined to be.

He reminded me that those I had once held in high esteem had to leave

For this next level, had no room for the haters who used to keep me company.

I am a shining star, getting ready to shoot out of this galaxy

So to those that thought me a flower, who would whither and die

Here is a chair. Pull one up.

Have several seats.

And enjoy the feast

Prepared especially for you.

You’re in for a special treat

So get ready to see how your hate and disdain has become the fuel that makes me great.

And remember this Queen doesn’t cower to whispered conferences held behind backs or chambers I’ve not been invited in.

I guess only one of us knows what it is to be called this and lives by it’s TRUE definition.

I’m comfortable.

In my bed.

Gah. I’ve seen this Mickey Mouse cartoon so many times- I know each line word for word.

The three year old is jumping… ON MY BED… and I’ve given him the look 75 billion and a half times.

He is a chatterbox, not just today, but every morning. He even talks in his sleep-

When he isn’t snoring-

What happened to the cute little breaths he took as a baby? These are near grown man sounds that escape his sleeping lips.

And when he realizes I haven’t responded to his words with whatever he has deemed appropriate or with nothing at all, he quietly reminds himself that I am working.

And it is a blissful 2.5 seconds of quiet.

Ah, but it is a continuous circle that cannot be broken or interrupted or muted or paused.

Maybe a walk is what I need after all.

Fresh air would be great, a stimulating conversation with nature is sure to stimulate brain cells that beg to take one or two more winks.

Guess, I will put on clothes and go for a walk…

The three year old has spies everywhere and I will not escape this time unseen.

I don’t really like clothes, anyway.

Besides, I’m quite comfortable.

In my bed.

But you enjoy the scenery.

And if you hear an incessant banging from a window as you pass by-

Don’t worry, it is just the three year old wishing you a happy, sunshiny day.

Wave, smile and just keep walking.

Otherwise, you’ll be entrapped in a conversation with a three year old and absolutely no way out.

Then I will be forced to leave my cocoon of comfort and warmth-

You’ll see my t shirt, rumpled and wrinkled and if the angle is right, you might even see some thigh connected to a panty that is anything but sexy.

But, I digress. And that isn’t how we make any progress.

Yes, a walk would indeed be best.

Gets the blood flowing, you know?

But.

I am comfortable.

In my bed.