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_________________________
REMEMBERING
I remember what it was like
to really
hate girls.
They giggled and acted stupid.
They whispered and kept secrets.
They knew things I didn't.
They
shut me out.
I remember what it was like
to really hate women.
Women who lied and cried.
Stupid women
did that!
Manipulative, hysterical,
scheming women.
I remember what it was like.
My first woman friend!
Seeming coincidences
because we were women.
A new world unfolding
before my very eyes.
I remember
what it was like
discovering that Sisterhood.
That private club where
mind spoke and mind listened,
heart
understood heart,
and soul communed with soul.
I remember what it was like
to feel the special love
of
woman to woman.
To finally understand
the secret language.
To be included.
__________________________
An Ode to Growing Older
This morning I woke up
to one more day of growing older.
I remember when I said
I
never would.
How rash.
My youth was spent in challenging the basic laws of nature, i.e.,
staying up until
all hours,
burning candles at both ends.
How rash.
I looked at those with poundage
far in excess of their
need,
and told myself
I'd never fall to greed.
How rash.
I dieted to stay the day
when every wrinkle
had it's way
and settled permanently
there upon my brow.
How rash.
But then the years collected
and
those very things neglected
'turned to haunt me.
Horrors, can this really be?
How rash.
Now I wake up
and I'm grateful
just to wake (boy, am I grateful),
and I welcome all the aches and pains and farts.
'Cause I
know I'm gonna go on
living day by single day,
and I'll last as long as I can keep my parts.
How rash!
Today
Where are they now?
All the great loves of my life.
Perhaps I've loved too easily,
Or sought
perfection midst the strife
And never finding it, moved on.
How many Bobs, or Franks, or Bills
Have shared
with me delight?
Maybe inspired a poem or two,
Dreamed dreams by day and then by night,
Only to wake, and say
so-long.
In looking back it seems
A thread has run throughout
That breaks, picks up, and then
Repeats
itself unendingly without
A change in rhyme or song.
I can't believe that's all
There is for me; just
loving,
Hurting, carrying on, and yet,
When all is said and done, not learning
All the lessons one by one.
For some I mourn.
The rash decisions sometimes made in haste
Removed them from my life.
Reflecting
on the past I see the waste
Of good men, left abruptly on their own.
Where are they now,
All the great
loves of my life?
Within these pages, some.
And though to one I now am wife,
Within the confines of my heart
they all live on.
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My Friend
Where is there, when will there be
one with compassion, unconditional love for me?
He was here once, recently,
my friend that spoke the language same as me.
Part intellect, part physical the attraction felt, that day.
My
first impression marked him strange,
or maybe even gay.
As it turned out, he was some strange
plus just
a little fey.
And we were gay together, plus sad,
angry, and glad.
This interesting friendship
which finally
drove me mad
had started over puppies.
He handled them with gentleness
that so belied his size,
six four of
tender strength
was hid behind his eyes.
We talked of many practical things
and shared our wildest deals.
We
even voiced some travel plans
in separate homes on wheels.
Traveling in tandem, a caravan of two
for comfort and
for company
we said. Oh! how I rue
the fear that stilled my burning tongue.
I never spoke the words
that may
have bound him to my side,
or scared him past imagining
to flee away and hide.
My honor and integrity forbade
my hearts desire,
temptation gnawed away at me,
hot dreams of erotic fire.
From years of total celibacy,
perhaps
inspired by, too,
a cruel game was played you see.
But who was cruel to who?
Was he the player of the games,
or
me? Say if you can.
Other than my youngest named
this was the only man
who shared the wide diversity
of my
Emotion Land.
My son was my creation,
all I meant for him to be,
but someone else made this man,
and made
him just for me.
He came too late to my life,
by some celestial joke.
My honesty, my role of wife
became a
tragic yoke
to bear in silent wordless grief.
My life controlled by fears
that were relentless as a thief
who
crept into my lonely heart
to steal this joy so brief.
My friend departed from my life
without recrimination,
for never had there ever been
an open declaration.
No word from him these four long years
no sight of him
to see.
I do not shed the bitter tears
that I would like to free
from deep within my heart
to ease my misery.
I wish that he would call one day
so I could hear his voice.
Who knows, today, what I would do
had I again
a choice.
________________________
FAVORITES
When I was a little girl
My favorite people
in the whole world
Were my uncles.
Not my aunts.
My uncles.
When I was a teenager
My favorite people
in the whole world
Were boys.
Not girls.
Boys.
When I became a woman
My favorite people in the whole
world
Were men.
Not women.
Men.
When I became an elder
My favorite people in the whole world
Became
people.
____________________
CONFIDENTIAL!
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