Poetry: Veins

I wrote this poem in the fall of 2007. I wrote this one about my husband. It was a good moment but even during the good moments, I’m still insecure.

me in 2007 when this poem was written I look so happy …lol

Veins of love’s 

moss grow

every minute

I’m with you

Will the veins 

ever run out

of moss?

Will you ever 

leave me?

Poetry: The Wind

I wrote this poem in 2006.

That wind can be rough

The wind makes the plants and branches dance, 

Like our lives dance everyday, sometimes slow, 

Sometimes fast, sometimes soft, sometimes rough

Will we ever find a steady rhythm,

A steady beat –or

Do We dance to different tunes until the branch breaks?

What is the name of the soundtrack of our lives?

Poetry: Risen

I wrote this in 2006.

some cravings are never satisfied

Rising from a deep sleep
That had become our marital bed
Passion woke up
In a sudden caress
Of your rough hands
On my soft bare back
Your eyes shone on me again
With that long lost stare
Desire
Our long lost friend
Is back
To reclaim us
From our endlessly deep and dreamless sleep

Poetry: Desire

I wrote this in 2006 about my husband and my husband were in a good place…meaning we were having sex again after taking a break for several months from it. I tend to place a lot of importance of sex in a relationship and well…if that’s lacking, I get bored and depressed in the relationship.

bewitched by passion

For once desire and passion 

Has entered our lives once again

 And the pieces start to fall perfectly 

In our lives again.

Is this a dream or just another short lived memory? 

He runs his hand through my back and it’s like

Electrical wires going through my body and it turns on 

Something wonderful inside of it.

Whatever happened to our 

rut and miserable boredom for each other?

He wants me once again and I want only him. 

What did I do differently this time?

Poetry: Unhappiness

I wrote this poem in fall of 2005 when I was feeling overwhelmed by my responsibilities of being a mother, a girlfriend, a student and a worker. As usual at that time, I took on too much and was trying to be everything to everyone. One trait of BPD that I’ve carried throughout the years is over extending myself sometimes to my detriment in order to make other people happy.

Me with my middle child circa late 2005

Feelings I can’t turn off

Quickly come in droves

Don’t know what to do 

My options are few

Do I follow my gut?

And get away from this rut

Or do i stay here ?

And become what I fear;

A woman that settles

And lets others meddle 

A woman with no mind

And with everything, she is fine

But can I turn off the real me?

And stay so unhappy

Poetry: False Stability *trigger warning*

I wrote this in March of 2020 as I was reflecting on my suicide attempt in December of 2016. I don’t remember writing this poem but that could be because it was a crazy time for me since I was an essential worker during COVID.

me in March of 2020 when I wrote this poem

Appearances were kept well for 15 years
the husband, the salaried job, the 3 off springs
I pretended like everything was fine
And yet there were ominous signs
I never felt like my authentic self
and always felt false
I tried on this so called suburban bliss
and mediocre routines
but knew it just wasn’t me
So I ended up in profound misery
And one day I wanted to forever sleep
To forget my mediocre reality
I took 15 numb feeling pills
one for every pseudo happy year
I wanted to slip into a forever dream
to never wake up to my false stability

Poetry: Long Ago

I wrote this poem about my husband in 2006 when we were in a rut of routine and being parents. I remember thinking how hard it was at the time to reconnect with him.

Long ago…

Passion was lost

Where did it go?

What has it turned into?

Perhaps into comfortable feelings

Of gratitude and friendship

And boring things like that

But how can we find once again?

The long lost passion 

That we once had. 

Poetry Review: Love Pangs

My copy of Love Pangs is a little banged up because I keep rereading it

Melia Cogan has done it again with her second poetry collection. She paints a picture of the beauty of love and the euphoria it brings to one’s life. This book will make you weak at your knees and perhaps even want to get you on a dating app to look for that special someone to experience the magic of love. Cogan explores the mosaic of emotions that come with love. Through Cogan’s verse, I was transported to the alluring and sometimes tumultuous journey of love. 

 I’ll talk about my 2 favorite poems from the poetry collection. 

One of the poems that really resonated with me was “Should I Allow Myself”. I liked how profound this poem is-it speaks about allowing yourself to fall in love recklessly while risking your vulnerability. It’s risking everything to be in the moment of that special memory of love. This is presented in the lines  “Together/the possibilities/reach for me in the night/and primarily/I wish they were you (Cogan)”. It’s a desire for longing to be with that special someone. 

The other poem that I really related to was “I’m Hiding from Love”because that’s kind of where I’m at right now.  This is captured in the lines “Well. I enjoy my boat not toppling over in the sea/and my house not catching on fire (Cogan). Cogan is perceptive of what heartbreak feels like and how some of us are so burned by it,we’ll avoid it at all costs. The metaphors of the boat and fire feel like a truth I’ve encountered many times.  It’s how anger and sorrow makes me feel like I’m either drowning or burning inside when it comes to heartbreak. Cogan captures these strong emotions in an intelligent and creative way that I’m sure resonates with mine and others’ experiences with the agony and torment that grief from heartbreak can bring. 

 I would recommend this poetry collection if you like to explore the depths of love and the complex emotions that come with it.  

Here is the link to the book:

Poetry: Her Last, His First

I wrote this poem in 2006 about my Mother In Law and my second son. We lived with her for a year and she was enamored by him.

Almost frozen in her familiarity
Trapped by her body’s slow betrayal
Boredom and solitude embrace her tightly
Her unheard cries drown her
Forgotten, forgotten she was
Her world had come to an almost silent
Pause
Until
She saw him
With beady eyes as blue as hers
And skin rumpled as lover’s sheets
He was a heinous sight
But to her
He was splendid to her dying eyes
He became her last burst of joy,
Her last adoration
And her last breath of life
She was ending with his fresh scent of purity
And he was starting with her aged scent of experience

Poetry: Let’s Go To Your Store

I wrote this in 2006 for my creative writing class.

Always…

Let’s go to your store
Where it’s like paradise
Where no one’s ignored

There is a nice white floor
And there are no cries
Let’s go to your store

Nobody is abhorred
Or ever sacrificed
Where no one’s ignored

Everyone is adored
And even told a few lies
Let’s go to your store

Confidence is restored
Because everyone tries
Where no one’s ignored

So take me on a tour
Where no one has a price
Let’s go to your store
Where no one’s ignored