Live. Your. Life.

So get this… everybody has dreams right? At some point in their life, young or old, rich or poor, happy or sad – everyone has had a dream. A goal. A wish. An idea of how “x” would be if “y” happened. So what happened? What thing occurred (or didn’t occur) that caused “y” not to happen. When did the dream die?

Continue reading “Live. Your. Life.”

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Another Lonely Autumn…

I know, sounds dreadfully depressing. But I promise you it isn’t… well not really. It kinda is, sometimes. But for the most part… let’s start over.

I really love Autumn. It’s my favorite season… for real.  Continue reading “Another Lonely Autumn…”

12/30 we was happy (National Poetry Month Challenge)

…and then suddenly all this poetry fills my head, and I write…

xoxo,
la.

12/30

it’s not the big things
not at all
like the celebrations or the milestones
but the mundane
the everyday
when i’m washing dishes
painting my toenails
sitting in traffic
it’s the nothing too particular
the not very special
the i’ve probably done this a million times in my sleep
it’s then
that i think of you
when i remember your scent
laugh at your laugh
when I’m not paying attention
when i’ve stopped building that fence around
– well everything –
that a scene replays in my mind
that a smirk sneaks upon my lips
that i steal a secret moment of silent reminisce
i can handle the big things
but it’s those little things
those fleeting moments that don’t mean much of nothing
that time when time doesn’t count
that i remember
there was an us
and we was happy.

9/30 – no I didn’t forget (National Poetry Month Challenge)

I’m playing catch up, it happens….

9/30

There is a quiet kind of courage in knowing when to quit
When losing all hope is not really a loss at all
And the idea of holding on a moment longer is worse than the fear of actually failing.
A peace as tranquil as a Sunday morning in redirecting your thoughts from ‘why me’ to ‘why not me’
And understanding yes, sometimes bad things do happen to good people.
Sorry.
There’s a certain sliver of solace in agreeing
you’re better off without him
(even if that’s not actually so)
Cause at some point you must live in the now and not the what if
And revel in the strength that some girls don’t get happily ever afters
Just happily you’ve got you
And it’s at that moment, that aha-waiter-taste-my-soup moment,
That quiet kind of courage kicks in and reminds you that you are and have always been enough.

7/30 Let’s Play a Game (National Poetry Month Challenge)

7/30

Let’s play a game of who can make who smile the most
and I’m not quite sure who I want to win
as long as I’m playing with you.

Let’s play a game of who can make who laugh the hardest
I make a mean squinty-eyed, tongue out, duck lips, kissy face
and I doubt you have what it takes to resist it
but I’ll even let you go first.

And let’s play a game of please don’t make me cry
well only the good tears (you can make me cry the good tears)
but even that’s iffy cause some don’t seem to know the difference
or get it confused, so I’m trusting you…

How about the game called catch me if I fall
which is hard for me to do but Lord when I do
it’s hard and sincere and all the way
but if you play this one right,
we both win.

 

3/30 (National Poetry Month Challenge)

Me on what it feels like on any given day to try to explain why you are perpetually single. #theEnd

3/30

Because it’s so much easier to blame them.
So much more palpable to spout the many reasons this one couldn’t stay,
that one couldn’t get right,
none of ’em could love –
‘least not the way I needed…
I mean what other reason could there be?
Not… me.
Mister almost but not quite there,
6 out of 10 ain’t bad,
maybe if I squint my eyes and turn my head to the left,
Yet he still left like the others
(probably back to his mothers’)
oh I…
sure know how to pick ’em.
But it’s so much easier to blame them.
So much more realistic to say
Mister couldn’t keep it in his pants,
eyes always roving looking for his next… ex…
I’m the next… best thing to wifey
Oh they like me
just don’t wife me –
Oh it’s him alright.
I mean what other reason could there be?
Not… me.
Mommas boy,
never learned how to balance a checkbook but can bounce a basketball
no credit having
still owes me money
Twenty-five ain’t seen me in a long time
It’s been a long time
since I’ve been loved
‘least the way I need me some lovin
And it’s so much easier to blame them
But who’ll believe it?
Not… me.