24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
I was born in Los Angeles, in the early '60, both Sun and Moon in Pisces at my arrival, and this intersection seems to pour from me. I am a mother of one, and grandmother now also, wearing the joys and terrors of a life well lived as a sort of armor for my last half here. I am articulate and shy, yet open enough so that no one notices the shy bits, or I hope not anyway. I hold confidences in my hidings. I am educated, try to be well spoken, and am a musician and writer. I work to live, managing myself so that I am never swept away into the opposing world of live to work. I believe in the Collective Consciousness of All that has ever been, All that Is, and All that will ever Be. It, and the extensions of It, are my religion. Regardless of my size, as it is known to fluxuate, I can often be found lying nude, or partially, under the Sun, or buoyant in the waters off my Pacific Island home, allowing healing and growth to purify me, and strengthen me. I am simple. What remains of my heart floats in a zip lock baggy, taped to the backside of my ribcage... I write poems. .
I have love to offer.
Don’t push me aside
because our gods have different names.
I have healing to share.
Don’t ignore me
because I call to god with a different tone.
I have messages to tell.
Don’t turn away
because you don’t know everything in your book.
I have friendship and unity,
communion and fellowship to give.
Don’t reject me because I do not walk through
the same door as you on Sunday.
Elizabeth Fellows
6/27/2020, 11pm
She’s delusional. She thinks she’s untouchable. Blondes can be like that.
She’ll take your husband. She’s always broken the rules. Won’t even want him.
Late drunk night at work… She’ll take him just to have him, then do lunch with you.
After work party, she is all about the chase. She’ll win every time.
She’ll hold your baby, throw you a baby shower, and meet him later.
She is dangerous. Do not let her in your house, or near your family.
Blondes can be like that even when they start to age. She’s unscrupulous.
Elizabeth Fellows
6.27/2020, 10pm
Dad has disbursed. He vibrates higher now, his pitch and tone as clear as bellsound. He isn’t as invested in physical things these days. He let’s me know that although they seem critically important when we are here, they simply do not hold the same gravity from non physical.
I ask him what he does these days. He tells me he does the equivalent of what we understand as deep thinking or meditation. He says that it is like trying hard to figure something out, but already knowing everything there is to know about everything. He says it is perfect intentional vibration. I ask him if I can join him in doing it. He reminds me that we are all joined always, so if I try it, I will naturally be trying it with him, and the rest of The Collective.
He says I am always welcome.
He is much more a teacher than the goofy guy that was my dad, but I still recognize an essence of him in what remains.
I tell him I still want to remember him as he was here. He encourages me to relive the memories, and enjoy where I am right now. This last part is very Disbursed Eternal Being Dad.
I tell him Iove him… miss him so much! He radiates Purity and Consciousness over me. I never want to stop feeling that. When he feels me, he goes, and I am left to enjoy where I am right now, and to remember Dad the way he was when he was here, my physical form Dad.
Thank you, Dad. Thank you Disbursed Form Dad in The Collective. I love and need you both so much…!
Elizabeth Fellows
6/27/2020, 9pm
If Dad had been alive
he would not have appreciated us.
He had hunted enough in his lifetime.
He knew the scents of wild animals.
He could smell a feral thing like us
and would have picked up on us right away.
He would have been deeply uncomfortable.
We would not have been invited back.
And, he would have blamed it on you, all of it on you
that there was just “something about that guy”
He would never have allowed himself
to know that I was The Beast
that I was the Primordial Monster…
never would have allowed himself to know
or even think it.
If Dad had been alive
I would have gotten a stern talking to
and so would you.
He would have pulled you off to the side
told you to “bathe more regularly, use some deodorant
maybe a little jock powder.”
He was that kind of man. He would have tried to “help ya out there.”
But, it wouldn’t have made a difference
regardless of the spray or powder
shampoo of body wash.
It wasn’t you. It would never be you.
It couldn’t.
A timid fluffy bunny
can not take on the scent of a ravenous wolf.
A frolicking mountain kid
would never musk like prowling jaguar.
It is not in their nature, not part of their dna.
It is not who you were born to be.
No teeth. No claws.
Just a flitting fluffy bunny tail for taunting… taunting…
But we would have known… we did know.
You can’t not know
who has the growl
and who has the soft underbelly.
You can’t not know…
6/27/2020, 8pm
Lie down here with me.
Bring the basket from the hall.
Don’t ask me to stop.
Elizabeth Fellows
6/27/2020, 7pm
Every evening, the elderly lady next door
sits on her front lanai and exclaims to me,
“I am having my weekly glass of evening wine.”
I make a slightly exaggerated facial expression
and remind her that, “One a week is actually good for you!”
I take bowls to her of whatever we are having for dinner.
Within minutes, she returns the bowl
clean. dry, and filled with something yummy
from her own kitchen, always clarifying,
“I will have that for my dinner, so I put it on a plate.”
Then, regardless of the time, she reminds me
“I have to get home now.
My daughter calls me every night at 7 o’clock.
She calls me every night. 7 o’clock.
Sometimes, when I happen to be sitting out front around 7 o’clock
I hear her sweet, sing song greeting.
I can picture her lovely face, so excited
as if she were the child, and her Mom was calling her…
Elizabeth Fellows
6/27/2020, 6pm
The man across the walk (we have an across the walk now since our move)… the man across the walk makes lovely interaction with his perfect yellow hibiscus flowers. If I could hear him (the walk is very wide and grassy), I would expect him to be cooing to them. He also strokes his red ti leaves, the branches of his very young, tender pink plumeria tree, and the slender leaves of his firecracker bushes.
When his teacup some kind of silky looking adorable terrier runs out, zig zagging between his legs, darting out, and scooting back to him, his smile takes his whole face, and he sweet talks her (even with the wide grassy, short white fenced walk, I am certain he is).
He loves so well, I send him gratitudes.
This is really good townhouse animal vegetable husbandry.
I believe it.
Elizabeth Fellows
6/27/2020, 5pm
You smoked up your gifts. He thought you were pathetic. You can’t go back now.
Give her what she wants. She says you, ” kiss her hiney… you are convenient.”
Your petulant fits won’t change the way they view you, or hold love from you.
You’re still a broken little girl begging for love. Such a sad, lost soul.
Elizabeth Fellows
6/26/2020, 4pm
From my new bedroom window
the mouth of I’ao stretches wide and deep
inviting those who hear to commune with her
those in reverence to sit with her in gratitude
for the aina, e lani, e kai…
those with humbled and open hearts
to pule e mele with her… for her.
She teases moana with sweet breezes
giving and taking across the short expanse between them
and in their exchange, offering her ha to us
blessing each room on this hale
with the mana of all who rest in her
and all who lie in the sea.
There is no more sacred space than Wailuku nei
no more precious gifts than those of this land and sky and ocean.
I am small in their presence.
Elizabeth Fellows
6/27/2020, 3pm
The way to get out of my own way is to start every statement with, “You..”
“You look terrified…!”
“You must be enraged…!”
“You have been through too much…!””You whatever you are in that moment…”
Not even,
“I acknowledge You…”
or
“I see or feel or hear what you are experiencing”
or
“I want to help…”
are appropriate.
Those “I” sentences twist my head back around to me, and it all so easily becomes about me again, my experience experiencing your experience. This is not the way to extend a hand, express an apology, open a changed ear and finally hear You.
This probably seems simple to others who are ahead of me in processing white privilege, white entitlements, but it took a lot of mental and emotional energy for me to make even this small switch, and I am working hard.
Here are the You sentences I understand so far from my heart…
You were kidnapped from your homeland, and made into slaves, beaten, tortured, murdered, dehumanized for centuries. You are still being kidnapped, enslaved, beaten, tortured, murdered, dehumanized… You deserve massive systemic change, reparations. You will fight with everything in you to create that change. You will do it with our without us.
You deserve for me to get this quicker than I am, You deserve for us to get this quicker than we are, for us to have gotten it hundreds of years ago, and left you in your home with your families.
You will likely hear all of the prejudices and entitlements and privilege in these words that I am still working on hearing and seeing myself, and repairing. You are worthy of your best efforts, and deepest apologies. You will likely not be soothed by either, but we will offer them humbly, with no expectations.
Elizabeth Fellows
6/27/2020, 2pm