What is this nightmare? Acne Joint pain Mood swings Hot flashes Night sweats Insomnia It's a good thing that men do not experience The joys of menopause I'm pretty sure that we would have Destroyed ourselves long ago if they did Because this experience is madness It's like the upgrade to puberty no one wanted I HAVE SO MUCH RAGE This has to be the reason women stop Putting up with intolerable things during midlife Because I'm ready to take a machete to all of the bullshit I have zero patience for anything When my hormones tumble out of wack All stupidity enrages me And so many things are branded with A blinking neon sign that reads STUPIDEST THING EVER DO NOT TOLERATE Now don't get it twisted, gentle listeners There are no excuses planted here Do not dismiss my disgruntled reactions As merely hormonal storm surges These hormones are the reason I can see The bullshit so clearly They are the reason I will not abide the bullshit One second longer
As I once let go of the Maiden's mantel to take up the Mother's mantel I now start letting go of my Mother's mantel To assume the mantel of the Crone Her knowing look Her sharp witted smirk She has seen it and rejected it all She understands that societal norms The expectations that sit like weights Upon her back are not hers to carry She understands that she is a force She stops caring what others think of her And starts caring about what she thinks of herself I feel these changes calling to my core Calling the taproot of my soul to descend Into the tides ruled by my will and Grace's wisdom Tides that my ancestors waded in And tapped into before me The wise women The grandmothers The healers and midwives The matriarchs I am about to inherit their legacy
But first I must walk this gauntlet called menopause This thrill ride is only just beginning And I already want off If you meet me and see a feral glint in my eye Or sweat on my brow Know it's best to just walk on by My grasp on my self-control Is not a secure one I run on resentments and judgment Not tightly moored to my higher self This base self more worldly Guiding me through this transition Steeped in ragged ugly truth So that when I emerge My crown of silver Is earned
Dear woman in the mirror How are you today? Did you sleep well? I’d like to ask you to be my Valentine? My Gal-entine? My number one relationship Will you dream with me of our happiness? Will you help me manifest our joy? I promise to shower you in compliments To speak softly and gently to you I will hold your wellbeing above all things I know I haven’t always been your cheerleader I have often been your worst critic And I’m sorry for that I’m learning how to treat you better I’m learning how to better support you To do more than acknowledge you have needs I wish to meet those needs I wish to show you the deepest kindness I wish to reflect your incomparable worthiness Because you are always worthy No matter what others say or do to prove otherwise
Would you like a cup of tea? How about a blanket and a good book? Do you need a moment in the sun, Or perhaps a nap buried beneath mounds of blankets?
You and me are the OG We’ve got to take care of each other Because no matter who comes and goes We will always have each other We’ve endured a lot together I know you are so tired I promise you that we will learn to move From surviving to thriving You and I
Let’s start today, my Valentine By promising to say these three words Every time we see each other
I'm not a morning person But I love the Maxfield Parrish skies of dawn Pink and purple watercolor brush strokes Across a robin's egg blue sky Golden light gilding every cloud in radiant luminescence Pastel magic painted across the heavens Suspending breath through awe Arresting the rush and rattle of morning routines With the beauty of nature's majesty I will gladly pour a cup of coffee in the wee hours If I get to enjoy a front row seat for such an art show
I've told you a thousand times I hate your demands of my body You've shown me a thousand and one times you don't give a shit I've swallowed a thousand silent screams of frustration I've cried a thousand silent tears of rage I've counted a thousand agonizing seconds waiting For the understanding to etch across your face That OUR relationship is more than just YOUR needs But it never manifests A thousand and one times this exchange plays out Like ghosts caught in the temporal fly paper of their last moments I can't even pretend I'm okay anymore I will not arrange my face into a mask of acceptance I will, instead, blank my face and retreat into my mind Counting a thousand heartbeats enduring the unwanted attention Disguised as affection that is really an affliction upon my person One would think that a girl who looks like me should be grateful That a boy who looks like you is so obsessed with a body like mine I will admit that some part of me is flattered That my thousand fat cells bear your label: SEXY But when the package is more valued than the contents It feels like a thousand Christmases where the kids Like the boxes better than the presents I agonized over choosing I have identified a thousand random shapes in the ceiling paint I have taken a thousand calming breaths While screaming a thousand times in my mind STOP TOUCHING ME It is a thousand moments of madness When I want a thousand and one moments Seeking my enthusiastic consent Instead I endure a thousand days Until the thousand is down to one
On the night I was arrested Our argument ended when You called me a "Fat. Lazy. Black. Bitch." Our children heard you I heard you I couldn't believe you said it But I heard you The words hung in the air like poison Choking the tears in my eyes Choking the rage in my throat Time stopped Suspended by shock Each painfully silent moment Accompanied by the roaring blood Rushing like a raging river in my ears As I stood in the kitchen Eyes wide and mouth open Speechless Everything suddenly clear As I stared at you in utter disbelief It was over It had been over And with that final insult Those four ugly adjectives It became unmistakably understood I was done
Your aggravated aggressive agitations Make alarm bells clang in my body Danger! Danger! Hide! As my stomach churns And my blood pressure rises I'm exhausted from near-constant hypervigilance You may not be angry at me I may not be the cause But I'm in the blast radius I'm in the radiation zone Perfect collateral damage Victim of your salted earth strategy Or perhaps your target practice I am not your Linus blanket I am not your heavy bag But you would have me be those things Often in rapid succession Leaving my nerves discordantly vibrating beneath my skin
It was a harrowing time for my kind. All we were trying to do was provide food and shelter for our offspring. We would hunt at night. Afraid of the light. Afraid of being seen. Afraid of the death that was sure to come if we were caught. We learned to be fast, but once you were caught, being fast was often not enough.
Our enemy was merciless. They were far fewer in number, but they had superior weaponry. They knew how to set traps for us, and worst of all, they employed the use of chemical agents. A brutal chemical assault devastated our community. It was an all-out extermination. Only those of us with the most protected hiding places survived. My ancestors were some of the lucky few.
Generations were devastated. Food supplies were unreliable as the chemicals contaminated nearly everything we had. We didn’t know what was safe and what wasn’t, and there were many times we had to take our chances and await the results. The truly desperate were often unwitting sacrifices as they ate what they could without concern for the result, figuring that they would die one way of the other so a chance to live until tomorrow was worth the risk of dying today. The days and nights were never void of the screams of the dying.
The time came for me to have my own offspring. Many of my brood were felled by the environmental toxins our enemies spread across the landscape like mines. The stores my ancestors left were exhausted and I could avoid going to hunt no longer. My remaining offspring needed to be fed. I needed to feed.
I waited until the darkest hours. The enemy’s camp was silent and still. There was no better time to take the chance at hunting. I stayed low to the ground and close to cover. I needed to know I could retreat to cover. As I explored the edge of our encampment, I saw a miracle. It was a white canopy of some kind that ranged from the encampment’s edge out into the badlands. We tried to avoid the badlands at all costs. It was too vast and too exposed to risk at any time. Cover meant survival.
I set forth to explore this structure. There was no lore about such a thing. Perhaps it was new. Perhaps more recent generations didn’t have a chance to share this discovery because of the war. Fewer and fewer returned from hunting these days. I saw another of my kind, younger and bolder than I. I watch this cousin move beneath and within this construct. After a considerable amount of time observing, I decided that the risk was minimal and approached the structure with hopes of a swift, rewarding hunt and swift retreat.
Almost as soon as I had entered the foreign space, blinding light flared. I froze as did the other of my kind. The structure disoriented me. I didn’t know which way safety lay in. I could only hold still and hope that the Great Dark would save me. Suddenly, the construct rose up. My kin and I scattered. Terror blinded me as much as the light did. All I could do was run in a chaotic pattern as fast as I could. Where was home? Where was the dark? Something splashed onto my back. It smelled of lemongrass, and immediately struck terror into my being. This is what some of our dying smelled like. I was having more difficulty making my body move where I wanted it to go. More fluid splashed down on me. My kin had already fallen on her back, the death throws underway. If I could only find the dark. I knew I didn’t have much time left, but at least I could die in my beautiful dark. I fell onto my back. I knew there was nothing else for me then. I would not be getting back up. And no one would know my story.
Please forgive my silence It is not easy to converse When I don't have much to say Not for want of company But for lack of breath to speak I have been gasping lately In pain In tears In prayer Gasping for air in a chest too tight On days when getting up takes All my might All my fight Please forgive my silence My burdens are so much to bare I hold myself too tightly wound For fear of shaking into pieces And if I set my voice free I worry what will become of me
Sometimes when I lay down my head All tucked up tight upon my bed I drift and float and start to dream Cascades of words just like a stream I wonder at this gift of mine Delighted I can dream in rhyme No two dreams are quite the same My poet's mind did birth this game Though rhyming dreams are often fun It's time to call this poem done.
Words Wishes and Wisdom 