Your Life Before My Eyes

Another for my Arrin's son, who is not dead, but I mourn for ...

Your Life Before My Eyes

 

I’m unraveling that web you spun

around my heart, looking at those flaws

my eyes consciously shied away from.

The searing lightning of impatience,

roiling tempest of temper on the horizon,

the blood red fists that played with matches. 

It was yesterday, you a neglected nine

trying so hard to be an unaffected

animated character (damn, you would

piss me off), a rude disinterested clown

drowning without anyone to see

you were smart, you were funny, you

wanted your daddy, you wanted

your mommy, your sister; you wanted

to be a kid, to be loved. You hated that

you only had me (damn, I would piss you off -

acting like grades and manners were important,

enacting limits & time-outs & groundings)

You learned; multiplication and division

finally made sense. You learned what to say

and how and when, but not why

and not how to truly mean it. And you

learned how to do what you wanted to do -

crossing from one ocean to another

(but you insisted alone). And I kept your room.

 

And now I’m packing it up, empty boxes

I am taping up and filling with your adulthood.

I have sealed the house against you,

wedged the windows, rebuilt the fence,

hope the police locate you; your brother and I

pray against the day we look up and you are there.

I keep the gun loaded and close – I remember

“I will do what I want when I want”, your hand

on the gearshift, your butt in the back seat –

a telling tale, you wanted me to parrot words.

You told yourself I was not your real mother;

you wanted me to release you.

 

So I do.

 

Ariel

Nov 1, 2012

Changing The Locks

I am posting this one to Arrin's child here - because, unfortunately this too is part of the story. My stepson, though alive, is no longer part of my life. His choice & I mourn that. A death often can cause the other family bonds to shatter. And it is another piece of Arrin I have lost. So ... to Joshua:

 

Changing the Locks

 

I know we had fought before

And I know you have long been grown

Yet, I was not prepared to say goodbye

And I never planned to lock you out of home 

How did this happen, why did you choose this path?

You jumped tracks on me, careened until our bond burned

And I’m wondering was my desire for family

Blinding me to how much violence “my child” had turned 

So now instead of sheltering you

Instead of giving you a mother’s love

I pray for the police to catch you soon

I fear what will come of your temper and blood 

I changed the house locks and use them

Start at backyard sounds, use motion lights

I never conceived how I fear the boy in you, the rage

you sparked a nightmare when you attacked that night 

You were my child, and now you’re not

And now the future, the locks are set

Your cold temper has chained our stories

Your grown resentment may end us yet 

There are times my disbelief

Almost talks me into letting you back in

Then I look at the damaged furniture and walls

Look at the scars and realize I could never win. 

I was not and still am not

Prepared to let you go

And yet, and yet how can I mourn the loss

When I must hide from you so?

 

Ariel

Nov 1, 2012

Autumn

Autumn

 

 

I’m seeking refuge in comfort

Something smooth and

Forgiving against the skin,

Fire and wood to warm a soul

Cold from memories pull.

A small companion.

 

With baritone strings, my mind

Seeks to mend again –

I am worthy. Soft rich fabrics cover me.

I am here. A nest insulated from the world.

I am forgiven. Redeemed from any sin against me.

 

Stripped and stripped again.

Clothes and flesh and thought.

Distilled. Dilution removed.

Ego, youth, pride.

Awareness remains.

 

 

Ariel

Oct 28, 2012

Not Human Yet

Not Human Yet

Half blind, half deaf; no nose, no teeth;

I’m not human yet.

I tried to hold on and failed;

I’m not human yet

Reached out for help:

I’m not human yet

There are holes in my fence;

I’m not human yet

The door locks have changed;

I’m not human yet

I sleep with a fist of metal and grit:

I’m not human yet

At the sound of noise, I prowl.

I’m not human yet.

Ariel

Oct 25, 2012

Instuaration\How I Rebuild

Instuaration\How I Rebuild

I carefully negotiate the ticktock traffic

jam of thoughts,

Chockablock bookshelves of voices

shouting at each other;

I stack them against the tickytacky walls,

Lean the strident against each other

Hurlyburly in the aisles like lodge poles;

Maneuver the shim sham until

They are more stable, more shim, less sham.

Finding toe holds and strong  fingers,

I climb to the top of the propped pyramid;

My feet on their pickapart shoulders,

On their flipflop faces

I push up against the ceiling

To claim breathing room.

I am me. I have a right to exist.

Ariel

June 23, 2012

Ash

Ash

I am lost,

ash-clothed,

among the crags and rookeries

of my shattered mind.

When the volcano blew again

it was my mind that left vulnerable;

the unrelieved lava splicing the landscape

into valleys and gullies,

no longer touching each other,,

words onto themselves like primordial soups.

incessantly burning, steaming.

Bridges that were persistent,

left charred ash at the base of burled cliffs

and I am at the base with them among burning words,

picking my way through molten rock.

and cauterized thoughts;

an eternal child, raising my ashen face to the sky.

How do survivors continue ad rem?

Blanked time spliced time -

how do I circumnavigate?

How do I excogitate back to the level ground?

At one time, the tectonic plates were one.

At one time, the words and thoughts were one.

At one time, I was one.

But I live under a volcano

and learned under its ash layers -

and therein lies the survival

I learned by living in the primeval stew

Crags and rookeries can be climbed.

Plateaus and  pueblos can be circumnavigated

But you must be willing to delve through the gullies first to reach them.

And words, glowing words, may burn the hands

but carried up to the surface

they build my bridges out of rock.

And, oh, all the evolutionary opportunities!

What grows from the ash!

Ariel

February 22 2012

And Today ...

And Today …

I feel heavy, fighting gravity;

Thick slabs of flaking mud

making up my feet,

my thighs.

Ariel

Feb 1 2012