I can’t

I can’t

I can’t believe you.

One thing I asked you to do.

You claim to love me.

One thing. You couldn’t leave it be.

Now you have me questioning, did you really love me at all?

One thing. Am I really that small?

You wanna make me out to be the bad guy, fine.

Without me you will dine.

I didn’t do this. This is not my fault.

You just had to squak.

One thing. That’s all I asked.

I am taking off this mask.

I was warned about you.

You made the warning come true.

I thought I needed you in my corner.

Turns out you’re just an informer.

I needed, because we shared common blood.

Someone to connect to. All you did was create mud.

My heart is broken. You are not that person.

My link to my family. The past. These feelings you have worsened.

Leave it alone. All you had to do was leave it alone.

I thought I needed you. All you did was create a cyclone.

Hurt. Anger. Tears. All you had to do was drop it.

But you couldn’t, not one little bit.

I’m not feeling the love. Love you claimed you give.

Love I could never out live.

This boundary wasn’t drawn in the sand.

My emotions are not your 4 piece band.

I can’t.

Single Red Shoe

Single red shoe, how did you get there?
Sitting on the wall in the drive thru.

Single red shoe, you made me laugh.
I had to take a picture of you.

Single red shoe, with your velvet toe and sparkling heel;
what are you doing on the wall?

Single red shoe, aren’t you afraid to fall?
In the 45 minutes we sat and enjoyed our lunch;

single red shoe, at least 40 people saw you.
Sitting on the wall. Did any of them have a hunch,

a notion, an idea of why you were hanging out
on this ledge?

Single red shoe, will the breeze from a passerby push you over the edge?
Will you teeter on your thin spike?

Will you get ran over and smushed?
Single red shoe, I hope someone comes along and claims you.

You have a mate some place.
Single red shoe, you brought a smile to my face.

A curl to my lips. You are so out of place.
Sitting on the wall in the drive thru.

A Friend for Life

Once upon a time, a story I did read.

What type of friend you are, it did decree.

The definition was plan. The type of friend you are was based on the time you did remain.

There were several; I can’t remember them all.

I will share what I can recall.

If I remember correctly, one was a week.

Which may sound pretty bleak.

But that week was all it took,

to give one person a new outlook.

There was a season.

And yes, you were the reason for that season.

This problem was much too hard; you could not swoop in and out.

There may have been many doubts.

You can learn a lot about,

someone in a season.

A real friend with no support for treason.

Then, I do believe there was a year.

Enough time to hold one dear.

A bigger issue was at hand,

it took the two of you to man.

The one I remember best of all was a lifetime.

Doesn’t that sound divine?

Knowing someone for all your life.

Being there for the good and the strife.

You can do great things in that frame.

You I credit for my life to remain.

Life can be a mean and evil creature.

You have been an amazing teacher.

I will never be able to thank you enough,

for remaining here on earth.

From time to time, someone else must care,

to make you even dare,

to fix the complex problems in life.

To help battle the strife.

A lifetime friend I know you will be.

Through life, I know we will help each other see.

Taken from ‘The Reconstruction of Me’. A collection of poems I started in the early 2,000’s. Not a published book.

One more Christmas Card

A cousin of mine that moved far away from her KY roots, sent me a Christmas present. Christmas pj’s soft and warm. I sent a thank you card. Then it occurred to me, I don’t have any Christmas cards left. Yes, I could go buy a whole pack for one. It’s not like they will go to waste. I’ll use them next year. Why not make a card?
Here’s my very simple card to my cousin.

Do you like homemade things? Or are you of the camp that believes it looks like homemade hell; don’t bother if you can buy me something?

Morning Moments

This morning, I popped into Kroger. As I get close to the door; I notice employees are just standing there watching …. something. It’s one of those moments; you have those thoughts, do I have dog poop on my pants? Leaves and twigs in my hair? What?

They draw my attention to a man in the parking lot next door dancing away. Yes, dancing at 7:40 in the morning. He’s got the moves and way more energy than I do. Not enough caffeine yet. I stand and watch for a moment, the employees that have been watching say that he was singing, shouting, and dancing as he went through their parking lot.

Then as he turns on his heels, saluted in our direction and danced away.

I won’t. You want.

I want to beat you about the face and eyes.

But, I won’t.

I want to pound you until my arms ache.

But, I won’t.

That greasy spot on the pavement;

that was you.

But, I won’t.

I want you to feel and know the pain you cause.

But, you won’t.

You are so wrapped up in yourself you don’t care what your words or actions does to me.

But, you wouldn’t care any way.

I want to scream at you until you understand.

But, you won’t. I would just end up hurting my throat. Cause you won’t listen.

Why am I so unimportant to you? It’s all about you and what I can do for you.

There was never give and take. Just take.

Because, you want.

That blood stain in the carpet; that was you. Because I want to kick the tar out of you. But, I won’t.

Any ‘good’ thing you did for me, wasn’t out of love. It was so you could lord it over me one day.

Because, you want.

God, the law, and morality govern me. All the bad things I want to do to you;

I won’t.

I can guarantee you this; excommunicate me, you can want in one hand and crap in the other. See which one gets full faster.

You want. I won’t.

https://byjolenerice.wordpress.com/2022/11/18/excommunicated/

https://byjolenerice.wordpress.com/2022/10/30/honor-thy-parents/

https://byjolenerice.wordpress.com/2022/12/08/10/

True

“To thine own self to true.”

How, when you’re not sure who you are?”

“To thine own self to true.”

How, when the world fights against you?

“To thine own self to true.”

And the world will crucify you.

Taken from ‘The Reconstruction of Me’. A collection of poems I started in the early 2,000’s. Not a published book.

“To thine own self to true.” William Shakespeare Hamlet Act 1 Scene 3

Broken Hearted

Have you ever had a heart broken? That pain is ours to process individually.

Brute force ripped my heart out , clogged danced on it in the mud, then gave back.

My baptism was fresh. My zeal for God was on fire. I weaponized the Bible. It became saturated with blood and sweat. My feeble arms ached as I showed no mercy!

As my relationship with Christ has gotten stronger, I realize this was demonstrous. It was wrong of me to use God to vindicate my broken heart.

I pray that someday God gives me the opportunity to apologize.

This my the original version that I cut down for the 100 word challenge.

https://byjolenerice.wordpress.com/2022/12/05/broken-hearted-72/

Sitting Here

One day, I started looking on WordPress at others work. Ya’ll are very talented and creative. Thank you for sharing. Some of you, I haven’t been able to see your work. I keep getting “content can’t load”. Some, I can’t figure out where to go to like/appreciate you work. 😢 Sorry.

During my reading, I came across the creative writing section and stream of consciousness. This was extremely interesting.

Below is my first attempt at stream of consciousness.

Sitting Here

As I sit here staring at my computer screen;

I’m waiting.

Waiting for the chief security officer to review Tuesday’s feed and get to me.

What is all that chatter? Is no one working? Sniff. Aroma. Coffee, take a gulp.

This is annoying, I have a piece of bagel stuck in my tooth.

The Christmas tree is pretty. Stupid tree! I didn’t want to put you up. A painful reminder I’m not in the mood for the season you serve.

Paperwork every where to do. What a mess. Waiting to learn new process. Why? What was wrong with the old way?

My head hurts. Delivery company run arounds. It would be nice to scream and shout.

What would the neighbors think? The school across the way? Or the garage. She’s nuts.

Heavy sigh, more rain. What a mental drain.

Someone answer my e-mail. I have work to do.

What joy. What fun. I’d rather be at home with my dog.

Time just keeps ticking away. What a day.

Dust on my keyboard. I should really clean. Nah.

Oh yeah, here’s some work to do. Really don’t want to.

Joy.

I should have set those Christmas lights to twinkle.

Finally, something to do.