I’m Not Enough

Where do I begin?
Except to say I’ve given my all.
Thrown myself at his tender mercy
And in return kicked to the ground.
I wear the mental anguish well,
Some would say,
And yet I’m standing tall,
Despite the war wounds I bear.

I’ve not the satisfaction
Of honor, respect
And true love.
Those were taken from me
So long ago.
With nothing more than my sanity to hold on to.
Forced to walk away,
I refused to look back
To see what I’ve left behind.
Afraid to carry that life into tomorrow.

It’s not enough to have worked my fingers to the bone,
That I’ve not bled enough blood
For someone who did not appreciate my spiritual being;
To give life to someone who cared not to
Mend my broken happiness
And love me the way in which I loved him.

I’ve not given enough to satisfy a thirst
I no longer can fulfill.
Never mind,
Tis the day will come when I will be fine,
And he will be a forgotten memory.
And I will be in the arms of someone
Whom I will be his queen.

I’m a victim of an emotional breakdown
And yet they laugh at me because
I live on recycled memories to save me,
And moments of daydreams to hold me together.

My rejected body feels no pleasure from a love
I once called my own.
In that dark room is where I find comfort,
Hiding from prying eyes to ward off
Ridiculous chatter of judgmental thoughts.

Leave me to wallow in misery for the time being.
It’ll only be a minute or two,
Then I will walk away with nothing more than
My sanity in tack,
Refusing to look back
To see what I’ve left behind.

No reason to go season after season
Wearing the same face of sorrow.
The power to change the future ahead of me
Is in the grasps of my hands,
I simply need to turn the knob and open the door,
Take one step,
Then another and I will be on my way.

I’ve cried my last tear of pain and sadness.
Let me shed the wounds that bind me to a state
Of mental depression.
I can see my smiles in the distance,
That place where happiness reigns.

Goodnight sweet surrender,
Into the blue horizon I travel,
To find my soul to live once again.
And if he should remember me,
Let it be in lost memories he let
Slip away in the far corners of his mind.

Love Me Gently

Tis the day will come
When all I want to do is to
Fall away into your field of dreams.
Where in the moon light
We will share what only lovers could share.

Your touch moves me with the
Sway of the ocean’s waves,
And I am hypnotized by the
Feelings I’ve succumb to.
 
My tears disappear in the
Blowing wind –
Your breath upon my skin
Soothing my once troubled soul.
 
Love me gently,
For my heart was weary.
Bring me back to the
Long days of making love
Where all I know is you
And the music we make together,
And you changing and rearranging my world,
Making it whole again.
 
Whenever you kiss me
Long and sweet,
My heart skips a beat,
And I want to fall in love
With you all over again.
 
My body is jellified,
Caught in the reminiscence
Of who you once became to me,
To whom we became to each other,
That, which time keeps us here
Sharing in this life.
I don’t ask why,
Just ask where in time will we go.
 
Hold my hand like you used to.
Love me gently,
Ending all of my sorrowful days.
Fill me of the heavenly blessings
Your body beholds,
And we are
Intertwined with each other,
underneath the cherry blossom trees.
 
Be my thirst for lust,
My drive for desiring all you possess inside,
The one I run to for a tender moment,
Embraced in your revelry.
Kiss me standing on
The horizon of a new day.
 
Help me to renew my faith
In what we had,
And continue to have.
Take me to that place in your heart,
Letting me wake up to the reality
Of the trueness of our love.

But whatever you do,
Love me gently
As I give my heart and soul back to you,
And we become one in this new life
We create for each other.

(“Imperfections:  Of Life’s Divine”)

This Aching Feeling

Do you think of me even in a moments passing?
Do you whisper my name even on the breath of a midnights wind?
Do you relish in the memory of the love I give so willingly
From my body within?
Do you feel for me how I feel for you?
Do you long for me in my absence
The way that I long for you when you are not there?
You, the one I have loved for so long.
Or have we come to find ourselves passing in the night
On different ships?
Drifting into worlds apart,
Non-existent to each other?

This aching lonliness I feel at the surface of my heart
Has thrown me into a frenzy of darkness,
A place where I have found solitude,
Where my tears reign supreme behind closed doors,
Never setting me free.

The love from your warm embrace is absent from my soul.
The love we made that brought our bodies one to one
Is that of a fading memory lost in the distance.
I see you there,
And yet invisible to you I have become.

This aching inside is that which I cannot shake.
Afraid that when I open my eyes you will be
That of a dream that’s left me
With kissless nights under Heaven’s moonlit skies,
And your tender lips that once touched mine will escape me
And be no more.
I was yours at one time, but only in a dream.

Did it ever occur to you that the days of distant pasts
Have come back to linger with regrets of the
Pain we’ve experienced,
That which has torn us apart in some unexpected way?
I have given all I could give of myself
Thus it never enough to satisfy you,
Or to return to the love we once shared.

If we have reached the end of the horizon,
I can only pray that the light that shines on the
Tail of the shooting star
Will bring us back together to live out our days
Like that which we once planned.
I will never cease loving you in this world
Or the next.

(For the coming book “Imperfections: Of Life’s Devine,”)

The Truth: Behind the Scenes of the Poem, “A One Night Stand”

I can only imagine how many people thought the poem, “A One Night Stand,” was actually about being with a nameless man, when in fact, it wasn’t.  I’m not a heavy drinker, and often enough it doesn’t settle well with me, so I don’t do it.  Wine is about as much as you’ll see me have.  The story was inspired by an evening I had with former co-workers in Glendale 1996, shortly after I left that employment due to the establishment closing and the department relocating.

The night of the celebration was to acknowledge my birthday along with a few others whom also had birthdays in August.  One friend offered to buy me shots of Tequilla…I should have stopped at one, instead, I had probably 3 or 4, but it was enough for me to lose control of the rest of my body.  In the end, I lost an article of clothing.  Fortunately I had on designer nylons and a killer pair of high heels and the shirt was long enough that it almost could have been a dress.  For weeks that followed I swore someone stole some of my clothes while in the process of moving into my own apartment.  It was the day I actually moved that I had a quick flash of memory that I remembered what happened to the bottom of that outfit.  It got lost or rather left in the bathroom of RJ Grins in Glendale. 

To date I don’t drink Tequilla.  In fact I stay away from it.  I had one shot at a party I recently attended, but quickly halted all other attempts to give me more.  So, that poem was dedicated to the horrible reaction I had to Tequilla.

A One-Night Stand

We met in a bar.
Summer.
One night after work.
He said I was the most
Beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
Funny,
No one’s ever said I
Was beautiful before.
He was smitten.
So was I.
He loved the way I walked.
The way I talked.
The way I danced on the dance floor.
He was a smooth talker.
Gentle in his approach.

Gentle in his touch,
That he held me with
Love and affection and compassion.
Said he never wanted to let me go.
Wanting to always be with me.

He promised he would love me.
Take care of me.
Give me what the world
Could never give me.
Said he would always be there for me.
He said he would never leave me alone.
He said he would shower me with gifts,
Always be my one and all.
And he touched my body,
Inside and out.
Made me feel like I’ve never
Felt before in this life time.
His touch upon my lips
Filled me immensely.

In the end all he did was lie to me.
One lie after another.
He robbed me of my innocence.
Left me in a cold and desolate place
In my mind of lost memory,
Trapped in a broken state.
He left me to fight to remember
Where I was and where I had been.
Leaving me to rely on the trust
Of strangers to find my way home.
I had to run with the wind in my face
To keep from losing consciousness.

In the days that followed,
And they were far too long with no end,
He never called to see if I
Found my way home safely that dark night
He left me alone.
He never returned my countless calls.
We eventually became a distant blur
Of an unspoken love affair
That was nothing more than a one-night stand,
One that was never to transpire.

He stole my clothing.
Robbed me of my dignity and pride.
And there was the one time
I actually cried out of shame.

It was on an unsuspecting day
In the time that followed,
That our paths would soon cross again.
He came calling with the same
Promises and lies.
The same gambles of life.
Oh, yeah,
And that charming smile
And gentle touch.
I partook of his essence
Given to me one last time,
Then I had to fall back on
The memories he left me with
So many years before.
I’m sorry, Tequila,
Your liquid madness
Just isn’t for me.
It’s over between us,
Since you left me alone
In that dark wilderness
Such a long time ago.

(Revised December 9, 2010)

Poetry Reading at the Central Library

Wednesday, June 30, 2010 7:00 PM

[ALOUD] at Central Library
630 W. 5th St.
Los Angeles, CA 90071
Phone: (213) 228-7000

NEWER POETS 

A Poetry Reading

With Erika Ayon, David Eadington, Dina Hardy, Georgia Jones-Davis, Russell Salamon, and Mike Sonksen

Co-presented with Beyond Baroque and Los Angeles Poetry Festival

FREE, PARKING UNDER BUILDING $4 WITH VALIDATION

Introducing six accomplished poets from the Los Angeles literary world in a lively showcase of poetic voices and styles.

Erika Ayón grew up in South Central, Los Angeles.  She was selected as a 2009 PEN Emerging Voices Fellow and studies poetry through the UCLA Extension Writers’ Program. She is currently working on a collection of poetry titled Orange Lady, the nickname a schoolmate gave her because as a child she assisted her father selling fruit in Los Angeles.

David Eadington, a Southern California native, has been writing and studying poetry since his teens. He holds a BA in English from Boston University and an MA in Comparative Literature from UCLA. He worked in the translation industry for over ten years, and also translates French poetry. His poems have appeared in Xelas Magazine and Check Other Magazine, and are forthcoming in the anthology The Poetry Mystique: Inside the Contemporary Poetry Workshop.

Dina Hardy earned degrees from Pratt Art Institute and the University of Iowa’s Writers’ Workshop. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Agni, Black Warrior Review, Margie, Phoebe and Portland Review. She was a finalist in Poets and Writers’ New Voices contest in California in 2003, awarded first place in Southeast Review and Smartish Pace contests, published in Meridian’s Best New Poets 2006 anthology, and earned a Maytag Fellowship from the University of Iowa and a Stegner Fellowship from Stanford University.

Georgia Jones-Davis was born in Los Angeles and raised in New Mexico and California.  She began writing and publishing poetry while a student at UCLA.  Georgia took a twenty-year-hiatus from writing poems while she worked as a reporter, critic and book review editor at the Los Angeles Herald Examiner and later The Los Angeles Times Book Review.  Her work has appeared in Sam Hamill’s online Poets Against War,  Voices From the Valley,  Brevities,  The Bicycle Review,  Cherries for Chopin and The California Review.  She has just completed her first chapbook, Blue Poodle.

Russell Salamon has been writing poetry since 1964 when he discovered the power of words while at college in Cleveland, Ohio. Author of Descent into Cleveland, a novel (1996), Woodsmoke and Green Tea, poems (2006), Ascent from Cleveland: Wild Heart Steel Phoenix, poems (2008). He lives in North Hollywood, CA.

Mike Sonksen, aka Mike the Poet, is widely acclaimed for his live performances, contributions to international publications and legendary city tours. Poet, journalist, historian, tour guide, and teacher, he is published in the L.A. Citybeat, O.C. Weekly, New Angeles, and L.A. Weekly, among others. He is the author of I AM ALIVE IN LOS ANGELES! Mike’s Los Angeles city tours combine poetry and history and have been written up in many publications, including the New York Times.

This event is supported by Poets & Writers, Inc., with a grant it received from the James Irvine Foundation.

Pure Serenity

Sometimes I need to escape to
An oasis within myself.
Away from everyone’s idle chatter.
Clear my head from the rhetoric conversations
That leaves me empty inside
And oblivious to what’s really going on.
And so does the clock strike 5
On the PM dial.
And here is where you will find me,
Retreating to my no-man’s land,
Caught between the sheets of
Silky bubbles,
Indulging in the hot caresses of
Nature’s blend of sweet goodness,
Draped comfortably around my body.
This is where I will forget the stresses of the day.
Hide from what tomorrow holds.
And sink into a pure serenity,
A place just beyond my dreams.
Let me fondle the pleasures
Of the sound of silence
Dipping into this moment
Of Heaven.
Don’t ruin the tranquility
I’ve become so familiar with.
Lock the door on your way out,
And leave me here
To drown in the sweet essence of
Pure serenity

Heavy

Heavy is laid upon my soul
Like bricks that weigh my shoulders down,
Wanting to be something I’m clearly no longer
In this lifetime.
My head cannot be lifted to see the rising sun.
My body cringes. The pit of my stomach aches.
I hide behind these dark glasses
To hide in my eyes what I do not want the world to see.
I’m afraid of being judged by a society who sees love
As a commercial commodity.
My knuckles scrape the ground upon which I walk
Carrying the load of worry not knowing where
With you I stand.
My soul aches of feelings
Impossible to bear,
Longing for something to remind me of why it is I am here
Because loving you has become so much harder
Than needing you.
And needing you
Has become my demon.

I dance around in piles of papers
That pronounce the days of
When there was truly a you and I.
Now it’s just trying to make sense of
Where it is I belong.
Who it is I am.
I’m sacrificing every inch of my being
To please a man who looks at me with his back turned.
Will you ever see that I am here now?
Giving you all of me when I once had all of you?
See me on my knees crying out for you to take
Me into your arms and hold me
Like you never want to let me go.
Love me from the heart I once fell in love with.

These shoulders are weighted down heavy,
That I cannot stand to see the days ahead of me.
I’m wandering around time after time
Wondering what it is I am to do next,
How it is I am to make it to the next day.
Waiting for that one minute to be
Free to live and breathe as I go
Walking from one block to the next
Without worry if I did not cater to
The specifics of your needs.
And yet, you say you do not care.
My pockets are empty for the
Prices I’ve paid loving you
That has become so much harder
Than needing you.
And needing you
Has become my demon.

My heart is heavy,
Shredding in need of someone to
Hold it together to keep from breaking.
I need someone to comfort my soul,
Make me whole again.
Are you that someone?
Or will you cast me out into the sea
Of unnamed lovers
Whom I am to choose to
Mend my breaking heart.
There is so much that
I have sacrificed for you,
And will continue to,
That I do not feel you appreciate me.
It’s the weight of a one-sided affair
That’s grown heavy on me.
Making it unable to bear the lonely days
I live through.
Though you are here.
My heart lays heavy from loving you
That has become so much harder
Than needing you.
And needing you
Has become my demon.

Did You Hear About P4CM?

Where real poetry is at.  Passion for Christ Movement, or P4CM as they are profoundly known, lays it down with their uplifting, mind-blowing, goose-bump giving poetry that hails from many walks of life and life’s experiences.  This group is truly a blessing as they walk, breathe and live God’s words, spreading positive messages throughout the city to all ages.

The first time I heard them, I had to sit back and just listen.  I was in awe of the message that was shared in a poetic stance.  They held the arena in open court and shared their experiences in performances I could only say was the best I’ve heard in a long, long time, and felt mediocre following in their shoes.  “I am not worthy!” But I wanted to get my one poem out there.  I felt good to be in their company.

They are moving minds, body and souls with their poetry.

Passion for Christ Movement
Christian Fellowship
(310) 439-9745
info@P4CM.com

Church Address:
1525 E 25th St
Los Angeles, CA 90011, USA

Mailing Address:
8939 S Sepulveda Bl #110-152
Los Angeles, CA 90045, USA

Service Times:
Sunday Service: 11:30 am
Wed Bible Study: 7:30 pm

Visit their site to learn more about their activities and upcoming events, and to see what’s going on with them.  Be prepared to be truly blessed by this great group. 

Poetry

Poetry…
It is the aphrodisiac of the creative mind.
It frees us from ourselves,
From that moment in time
Which has gripped our present reality
To let the words fall from our inner thoughts,
Onto paper,
Flow from our mouths,
The spoken word that tells our story.

Poetry…
It is the orgasm we feel
When the words strike our souls with fire,
Stimulating our mind,
That we tremble with such force.
We shout in awe of where
The words have allowed us to travel,
To experience the realism of a life
We only dare to dream.

Poetry…
It is the mental stability that
Holds and keeps up together in a saner sense,
When any and everything can
Drive us mad and criminally insane.
It is a threshold of power within its realm,
Moving us to face,
What before,
We could not face…
Our fears.
And yet it embraces us.

Poetry…
It is what brings pen and paper together as one
In a literary world,
Sacrificing other natures of our being
From those things we could have indulged
For this one unique opportunity to
Perform in front of a world,
To let be heard what we’ve only
Come to whisper,
Advocating for a newer equality of life,
Living outside of the barriers of
War and pain,
Singing loudly to the heaven’s for
Love and peace.