Poetry: The Modern Southern Woman

I wrote this in 2016.

me in 2016 when I wrote this poem

Faulkner wrote about her ancestors
She stood like a pillar of strength between her mother and daughter
She stood strong as both of them held her arms that were their life jackets
as they drowned in endless sorrows
Tears silently fell from her face as her father laid in his closed home
And the reverend went on about him being in a better place
And her strength did not falter,
She let her loved ones hold on tight while she tried to blink away tears ,
She swallowed her pain and absorbed the pain from those around her
She wasn’t just strong for her mother and daughter,
but she was a goddess of strength among the mere mortals
around her that wept

Poesia: Primer Amor

Escribí este poema en el 2016 cuando una ola de nostalgia me visito y me puse a pensar en mi primer amor.

La inocencia del primer amor
Se queda como un tatuaje en tu mente
Nunca podrás olvidar cómo se sintió
Ese primer beso nervioso
O como buscaban rincones escondidos
Para mostrarse amor
Nunca se olvida la gran emoción
Que llevas dia por dia al verlo
Y nunca, nunca
olvidarás el primer amor
Que falleció con su repente desamor

Con solo 16 años pensaba que sabía lo que era el amor

Poetry: Countries

I wrote this poem in 2016 when I was reflecting on how different my children were. At the time, my middle son was going through a difficult time and it was hard to deal with.

my 3 sons in July of 2021

Living with my three children

Is like living in three different countries

My oldest would be Singapore

With strict rules and laws, 

He hates flaws in himself 

And others and is unforgiving

It’s challenging to live in 

Singapore

My middle child would be a war torn ridden country 

Like Syria

That’s currently filled with constant chaos,

He is trying to find himself in a place 

He feels unwanted and lost

It is an unpredictable struggle

To reside in Syria

My youngest child would 

Be an established and friendly country like Spain

He is vibrant, laid back yet energetic 

Occasionally you hear about political protests 

That reminds me of his occasional tantrums when

His life feels unjust

It is almost a predictable and easy existence to 

Live in Spain 

Poetry: A Song to My Lover

I wrote this in 2015 inspired by a situation I was going through.

me around the time I wrote this poem

A Song to My Lover

Songs are written about people like us
Good songs and bad songs,
r&b songs, pop songs,
and of course country songs
Songs that try to capture
the complexity of infidelity
Most of them try to capture the guilt
and the grief
Some of them capture the romantic notion
Of secret meetings, stolen kisses
And the excitement
But there doesn’t seem to be
A particular song for us…
Could a song really capture something
so profound and beautiful ?
Something tainted by the reality
of our situation
Being with my husband is a commitment
I made
It’s an everyday task, not for the faint of heart
Being with you is easy
It’s refreshing not having to try so hard to make
sweet reality work
It’s amazing that you know what to do
to make me feel wanted
And my poor husband still hasn’t got a clue
It’s refreshing that when you are with me,
You see a person, a lover
and not just a wife and mother
These are things neve appear in songs
because our truth is an alternate universe
of the complexities of finding contentment
from someone else at the wrong time

Poetry: Shadows

I wrote this poem sometime around 2014 or 2015. I was feeling nostalgic about a former flame I had been obsessed with. This tends to happen a lot with me. Letting go of my past is hard at times.

me in 2015 around the time I wrote this poem

Shadows of my past

Envelop my future

Everywhere I go

Time has passed 

I am older

Harsh experiences 

Have made my cynical

And embrace 

My mediocrity

But still 

Shadows of the past

Envelop my future

Everywhere i go

I’m happy that you found 

Your idyllic happiness 

With someone else 

And living the life

You always wanted 

But shadows of our past

Envelop my future

Everywhere I go 

I love my children

I love my spouse

But for one more moment

Of us

I would leave them

And everything else behind

Shadows of our past

Envelops my future

Everywhere I go 

Poetry: The Wound

I wrote this in 2008.

I never came back the same

The Wound

It’s a wound that never closes
No matter how many years
are spent trying to close it

To taste the pure heaven that is you
and have it swept
from under me in a sudden swoop
made the everlasting wound

I looked everywhere
for somebody to help me close it
But no matter how hard
they tried, the wound
wouldn’t come close to closing

I finally met someone who lessened the pain
of the wound
with his gentle and understanding nature
But even after 6 years as his patient
the wound remains open

 

Poetry : Dreams

I wrote this poem in late 2007 when I was depressed about my life. Again, instead of going to therapy, I just wrote a poem about it. Lol.

none of us know what we’re doing

Tainted dreams 

of life is what

I have left.

A career of abstract 

nothingness lies

before me. 

Chaotic and sensitive off springs

I must put before me.

Frigidity and

senility in my

marital bed lie

next to me. 

Is this it? Is this 

what is left 

of my 

foolish childhood dreams.

Scattered dreams

in my past 

become failures

of my present.

Will my soul

ever recuperate

from the cost?

Will I ever be that

hopeful again?

Poem: My Sleeping Poem **trigger warning**

I wrote this poem in December of 2016 after my almost love affair with death on December 5th. It’s strange how aside from my journal entries from that month, I hardly remember that month. I just remember feeling so broken inside and like a failure after that happened that it was so hard to get up every morning. I do know that writing saved me during that time because I started journaling way more consistently. I would learn years later after being diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder that up to 10 percent of people with BPD die by suicide. Five years later, I’m glad that I had people by my side that prevented me from becoming one in ten. I’m glad that afterwards, I was able to slowly come back from this even if I was mostly depressed the year after and it was a fight to get up every single day.

For more information about the high risk of BPD and Suicide, here is a link from Psychology Today with info about it:

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/where-science-meets-the-steps/201512/the-destructive-power-borderline-personality-disorder

me and one of my best friends in December 2016

I wanted to sleep

Sleep beckoned me

Like a magical place

Where I could forget

Forget-

The burdens and responsibilities

Forget-

The performance reviews, the report cards, the bills

Forget- 

The husband, the kids, the friends

I wanted to sleep

So I planned my journey there

Call in sick, act natural,

Take the bottle of xanax

I wrote love letters 

To my children, my husband, and friends

Just in case I fell in a forever dream

I wanted to sleep

Selfishly, without interruptions 

I wanted to sleep

So I didn’t have to think 

About my mediocre and suburban reality

My lost dreams of greatness

My wastefulness on this earth

I wanted to sleep

But I was interrupted

By my husband shaking me

Halfway carrying me 

To the couch, forcing coffee

Down my throat

I wanted to sleep 

But I had to wake up

And endure the reality of life

Poetry: Waiting

This another poem inspired about the great breakup of 2001. I probably wrote this when it first happened. My sense of reality is shook up after a break up and it feels like a never ending nightmare that I’ll never wake up from after it happens. This doesn’t happen with every break up…just the ones that really affect me.

Waiting 

So I wait for the phone to ring
To hear you say
this loneliness has all been a horrible dream
So I wait for you to show up at my door
To tell me you can’t stand being away from me no more
So I wait for your love letter in my mailbox
To begin getting back together

Poetry: Fence

I wrote this in 2007 about my husband. I was frustrated that he was always so guarded with his emotions and his past. I hated that I could give him my vulnerability and he couldn’t give me his. Looking back now, I should have realized how incompatible we were at the time, but my stubborn and optimistic self wanted things to badly work.

me around the time I wrote this poem

A steel and locked fence guards you.

It does its job well.

Your insecurities and emotions never

come out to play with mine.

Your past never comes out to 

join mine in a game of nostalgia.

Will your fence ever open for me?

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: 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: 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.