due to my clumsiness,

i fall in love,

and find hope in broken people

 

i am trying so hard to move on from the past,

but even in the most open space

i find sharp edges,

so every time a wound heals

it is torn open again

 

– g.c.

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planetary pollution

a world filled with illusion

awakening means movement

sit still little girl

there is no room for improvement

just this path

hold in those tears

it is of a man to have rage and wrath

noises aren’t real fears

be grateful

it wasn’t you those fists hit

did you want them to?

hush

swallow the lumps

little girl your words are distasteful

stop hurting yourself

memories don’t fade like your cuts, bruises, and bumps

 

and to answer your question

yes

i want it to be me

maybe that way you’d learn to handle your aggression

it’s not that I wish to feel the warmth of welts forming

rather than to not hear your heavy feet storming

towards to door of someone else i love

i’m not begging for your fists to color my porcelain skin

but I’d rather they not smash into the wall again

i want to scream stop

as you bang your chest and the veins in your head throb

you’re hurting yourself

slipping away

farther

killing your daughter

because i do not want you

my beaten up father

i want the man who speaks softly

when he hears the footsteps of his daughter

the only time he is yelling is out of joy

as he plays the big scary monster and chases after his little boy

but then you took the game too far

when your life got repetitive my brother got the blame

the only thing he got from the chase was his very own rage

and with that came shame

so he drowns himself in liquor

because he is still a boy

he can’t survive like you do

swimming in those same old thoughts

day in and day out

for years i was blinded by my own anger

all i saw was a shell that rots

but now i know that you are not empty

the frustration and aching in your bones just make those wild fits tempting

but they don’t want to see you like that

but i know soon you’ll explode if you don’t get some release

you have yet to learn that pounding your fists is not how you breathe

i only hope you find your niche

some form of therapy

but do not give up

please

it is okay if you change

there is nothing to lose but only to gain

my love will not waver

mom is trying to grow

but do not cave for her

you do not need to shrink

if you make yourself any smaller

limit yourself farther

my heart will surely sink

it is all in your head

all in how you think

transform

the scars we will shed

let your soul be fed

nurture yourself

your kids are grown

we are strong enough on our own

we have hurt you too

so return the punch

one last hit

sweep the rug from under our feet

it is okay

i am familiar with the taste of defeat

but i know once i fall

i’ll be ready to fly

because i learned from you

at the end of the day

we all must try

so let us break then consolidate

let us redirect fate

i love you

that will always hold true

breathe

the day is new

 

my family will breathe – g.c.

too often i find myself in places where i am not truly wanted

i remain silent

heart sinking

keeping truth bottled up

but space to hide is limited

ideas far too wide to keep inside

so i seek solitude

locking myself away

i am ironically free

 

there was once a time where i did not know

so i would listen

i too sat and nodded

now i get up and leave

something changed

 

ignorance and small talk are no longer for me

 

conditioned conversation – g.c.

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i will not hold onto your love

and i will not hold a grudge

you hurt me

but pain is a great teacher

my pain has been a guide to liberation

i am free from your love

and have found my own

free of thirst

i swallow the love that is given

and ask for no more

i will no longer beg

your love is no longer a tease

it is not the breath that gives me life

i am stronger

not because of the times you loved me

but all those times you denied my thirst

thank god i did not take from you

you appeared to me as a well

but now that i have had a look inside

i see that you are empty

empty and dry

you lied when you said you were full and satisfied

my intuition steered me away from my thirst for a lie

even though it was of you to lie and deny

i will not deny your thirst

when i opened my mind

i found a river flowing with the best water you’ll find

it is endless

just like i am

infinite love and sustenance

to give to all

even those who are bone dry

whole – g.c.

Fathers

He pours a store bought frozen meal out of its tray, onto a clean plate. The plate isn’t necessary. It is there to remind him of a home cooked meal, to remind him of a time when someone thought of him enough to make him one, and he did not bare all the burdens. There was a time, when life was a little more than a microwaved meal. It was more than a moment’s rest on a worn couch, awaiting responsibility to call his name. There was a time, when he got kisses and laughter in return for his labor, when he got to delve into his imagination and pretend to be the wondrous tickle monster. The giggles his love stole are now stored away as distant memories. All that is remaining is the memory of a happier life, these memories, buried under the consumption of practicality, responsibility, and hopelessness. He was dragged into a cycle that seemingly begins from nowhere and awaits a seemingly unknowable uncontrollable end.

I, with wondering eyes, watch this creature of habit. My brain is entwined with maybes and whys, and I sense the end is the goal for far too many men.

 

Hi, how are you?

“Hi, how are you?”

Good. What else would I be? What else would I say? You weren’t expecting me to tell you how I really felt? Were you?

When we must interact with strangers we ask questions with no meaning behind them and give brief conditioned answers. We never wonder. We never truly desire to understand the other person, because it is only a short interaction, right? There is no need to make anything of it, but you could have impacted that person’s day, if you knew how they really felt. They could have impacted yours, if they knew how you felt. You could have benefited from each other’s kindness.

I have started to develop a disliking for small talk and what is considered a “normal” interaction amongst strangers. I feel that what’s normal needs to change. Normal is a term used to describe a lot of different aspects of life. For example, living in a country, having borders, is normal. War is normal. Eating meat is normal. Going to college is normal. Getting a 9 to 5 is normal. Retirement and vacations are normal. Finding joy in materialistic things is normal. Looking up to and following celebrities, and the trends they set, is normal. Desire for money is normal. The concept of money is normal. Having a large circle of friends is normal. Saying, “Hi, how are you?” to strangers is normal. I could go on for days listing what we all agree upon is normal, but I think you get it.

Now, some people reading this may be thinking here goes this little hippie child about to tell me to save the earth, stop supporting my country in war, and to love everybody. Yeah, I guess that would be a normal person’s response. Too bad, I don’t care for what is normal.

I no longer wish to live a life seeking validation from others. That could never fulfill me. I can not rely on others to tell me my worth. I would eventually crumble, if I continued to hold the belief that I am only worthy, if I am liked by others.  I can no longer live with the fear of not being understood. I do not see myself as completely separate from others. I no longer feel the right to have an opinion of another. My empathy has manifested and has become a controlling force in my life. It may lead some to believe that I am weak and easily taken advantage of, but I believe it will one day be my greatest strength.

We all have thoughts running through our minds all day long. Thoughts focused on, not  loving, but being liked. We aren’t worried about making sure the other person feels loved. We are too caught up thinking about ourselves, but really not our well being. We can all relate to the fact that we all have insecurities. We don’t often realize this though, because we are too keen on our own, picking ourselves apart, as we compare ourselves to others, and what they present on the surface. Realization of the fact that we are alike, realization of the fact that we cling to belief systems and opinions for security, will lead us to surrender as our only option. We would then surrender our identification with these things and see us as alike, see us as one. Once you come across this realization and keep this in mind, while interacting with others, you will never want to cause harm to them, because you know, like you, there is depth to them, something going on inside of them, that is deciding all of their actions. Often though, what is inside is insecurity and uncertainty. This controls our actions, but it really shouldn’t. We should be so full on love, that is all we want to put out into the world.

Most everybody is lost. They don’t know themselves well enough. They have not a clue what gives meaning to their life. They don’t feel purpose. They do not spend time alone. They have never even thought of loving themselves. It’s strange that I did not know what self love was for the first sixteen years of my life, others have gone on longer. So, most people don’t love themselves or feel purpose, so they seek these things in the world outside of them, not realizing, it is all inside. They become followers. They follow beliefs of the Catholic church, Islam, or what/whomever. They follow the other good little girls and boys to college. They get a safe job like everybody else. They live simple and never search for meaning. They never create a bigger picture for themselves.

If we all just focused on personal growth and self love, if we all created a bigger picture, then we would know harmony and love. We would not know a forced “Hi, how are you?”. We would know genuine smiles and warm greetings. We would know truthful answers from strangers. We would know love amongst strangers. We would not know strangers. We would know human beings. We would know friends. We would know intimacy with all people. We would know cooperation. We would all know what it is to give and we would all receive.

Love is the new normal. Next time you ask someone how they are, mean it, or ask them something more meaningful, if you like. Whatever you do, don’t deprive a stranger of your kindness, just because you haven’t felt you have been shown any.

Give love. Receive love. Be love.

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you can not be spoken

you can not be solved

you are felt deeply

you can not be hidden on the surface

you can be seen so clearly

yet sometimes you are beyond what my eyes allow me to see

you are everywhere

yet hard to find

when i look outside of me

you are the twinkle in an eye

the breath that has been stolen by the stars

you are the warmth of gentle lips

the toes that dance in the sand

you are the finger that points to the clouds

the hand that pulls the curtain back to let the sun in

you are the loudest laughter

and the tiniest giggles

you are the tongue that meets the snowflake

the hips that sway to the music

you are infinite

you are a billion analogies

and a trillion possibilities

you are love

i am love

– g.c.

seasons

cropped-img_5503.jpgi want to paint my life,
like the sun paints the sky every morning and every evening,
i want to become enveloped by beauty and glory,
all my own creation,
the people that come into my life and stay,
they’ll be the portraits,
the people you can look at for so long,
you come to know them without speaking.

i’ll paint my worries as the leaves,
so when autumn comes they will all fall away with ease.

ill paint myself as a tree in the winter,
free of all its worries,
yet naked and vulnerable,
completely bare,
unable to hide,
raw and real,
vulnerable to change.

when new ideas begin to bud,
spring comes,
and i will be the flower,
young and new,
reborn,
intrinsically delicate and beautiful,
able to soak in the sun and dance in the rain,
yet prepared for heavy storms.

when summer arrives,
i’ll paint myself as a California flower,
thriving under the heat,
while others cower away.

i’ll paint myself as all the seasons,
always changing,
always room for growth,
always room on the canvas to paint life in a new direction,
no need to worry,
because there is always a new beginning

seasons – Grace Condon