The walk of shame
It was the walk of shame
Because I was ashamed
Ashamed that I yet again didn't listen to the voice inside my head
Pointing out the very visible cliff I was about to fall off of
I guess that's because that's what I'm good at...
Picking up the pieces
Shattered hopes that were bloated
And sugar coated with to fit the fantasy.
See the pattern?
Turning me into some old shrew
Screwing up a chance at contentment
Left only with resentment, lack of fulfillment
And a lonely soul
A hole in my being
Seeking to be whole
Cue the song that makes me feel better or worse
As I search for my purse
And get on my way
Out of the way
It's a long ride home
She sat there in front of art and architecture.
Places where royalty have roamed.
Reaching places may have only dreamed of.
But the dream isn't fulfilled.
There are still some pieces missing
The amusing part of the mystery
Is that which pieces need placing are unknown.
So play with endless ideas/scenarios
To make this amazing work in progress feel complete,
Instead of at times obsolete.
Hit the concrete running
Instead of running into a wall
Or running away
But where to stay is part of the problem
Comfortable with one idea
But constrained by its limits.
Endless things to check off a list
Wishing physics could fix the issue
It's not you it's me
Lonley, among other things
Until further notice.
It's kind of difficult for me to come out with this.
Actually, I'm really embarrassed.
You see the thing is...
I'm in an abusive relationship.
There.
I said it.
This has been going on for quite some time
And just when I thought I'd escaped,
The fight began again.
The pounds to my body don't come with bruises to my skin,
But only to my pride.
When my eyes in a mirror
Gaze upon the size of this wide load
Woes and unknowing foes
Explode from uncertainty
Insecurity, Animosity, Absurdity
That comes from this mess
Stress from the cycle
And I don't mean your washer and dryer.
I mean Dryers and Ho-Hos
And oh nos that come from the end of a bag of Doritos
To go with burritos
And washed down with juice
Covered in all the loose clothing
To cover all the loathing of the image
And just a smidge more effort
Wouldn't hurt the cause
But temptation and socialization
Excuses and denial
All while the battle
Over feeling like cattle
Turns into a civil war
Which I can't ignore anymore.
Because I want more,
More self worth,
Less hurt,
Less jerks,
More time on Earth.
Perk up.
Today is day 1.
How can we be building churches,
But closing hospitals?
How can you plate anything in gold,
While your people are out in the cold
Hungry and dirty
Pleading for pity?
As spectators ignore them
And go to their sanctuary
And step onto their holy pedestal
In a building that makes you feel like you're in the clouds.
Something they refuse to say aloud
Is that not all are allowed
So they stick to their crowd
And are proud of their faith
But they cannot face
The place that is plagued with poverty, violence, racism, and the like.
In spite of following one creator
The people have made it into a separator
Garnish your house of God
As the world is spinning out of control on the outside.
Sitting in front of the mirror
Natural
Adding layers
Covering simplicity with blush and hairspray
Preparing for the outside world
But CoverGirl isn't the right foundation for life
A powdered face isn't the shield
Line your lips with words that are true
Take the shadow off your eyes and see the small wonders of the world
Let them love you for you
Not a skewed view
From people who have no clue
Who you are
And your potential
Is exponential
And essential to something better.
First conquer you,
Next, the world.
How dare you be so selfish
And take over my mind
As if you were hogging the blanket in the middle of the night
Totally unaware,
Asleep to the coldness I feel in my bones.
I'm no longer in control.
I'm shivering at wind blasting thoughts
That are coming at me from every angle
Trying to find the angle of this situation,
Infatuation,
Saturation of content not leaving me content to think
Or even blink without being suffocated by doubt
Unable to get out of my head the options we hold
The adoption of this activity has made me scold myself
Because I need help to swim before I drown
I'm drowning,
And you're dreaming
Feel free to throw me a lifesaver.
I hope you like that blanket
It's made from the best and worst of me.
Another one From the Writer's Block - "If you could take one picture, what would it be? what is in it? Who is in it? What does it mean to you?"
One picture
Una foto
One picture
One representation of a moment in time
Captured
Trapped in digital pixels
Held prisoner by nostalgia and reminiscence
Essentially life on paper
If I could only take one picture
It would show the texture of my existence
A beautiful girl dressed in white
Her smile up to her ears
Because this is the happiest moment of her life
Her mother with proud eyes
And an attitude
That her fortitude
Has been compensated
And emulated by this joyous occasion
My whole universe
In a frame, a family
F- Fate, Freedom, Fabulousness
A- Absolutely Amazing Amor
M- My marvelous Masterpiece
I, I can't believe I'm so...
L-Lucky
Y- Why, I wish I could drink this happiness forever
Generations together
My mother, her mother
Tias, Nieces
Daddies, brothers and sons
All in one room
Sharing one moment
As the lens captures
Mi familia.
I just don't understand
How this works really
This complex feeling
That makes people go nuts.
Making such a fuss
And frankly, I've had enough.
It's so much easier to be me.
I don't have the urge
To buy candy or flowers.
I don't spend hours
Pained if I'm unrequited.
And I don't get excited
at the thought of being united.
People think I'm the bad guy.
But Love's not always a picnic either.
It knows how to destroy what's been built
It can watch a rose wilt
Without hope of resurrection.
Really we're not that different.
Actually I'm pretty sure,
I was Love in a past life.
I guess it just depends on what is your strife.
Green like money
Being food sick
Unable to pick the right words
For a better fit
Or maybe it's less about math
And more about meaning
Provoking feelings
From people who are dealing
With thunderstorms and earthquakes.
Engaging in debates
And questioning what lies in their fate.
Time after time
I see people with the baddest rhymes and incredible flow,
That I don't know
If should even show my meager work to anyone.
A simple well done,
Although coming from the right place
And so kind,
Doesn't allow me to find my inner superstar.
Far and wide people will want to read my works
Including all the quirks
Gawking at my creation
The next poetry sensation.
Or at least allow my imagination to believe it.
Just spit it out
"I want to be among the best."
This poem came from a writing prompt one of my poet facebook friends had from a series called Writer's Block. As always, a work in progress.... So here's number 21.
A Conversation Between Life and Death
You get to have all the fun.
I believe you are mistaken.
How could I be, when you are surrounded by energy, joy and
laughter?
You are the birth of all things that have graced this Earth
with greatness.
It’s not all that great, when sometimes it’s too late to
change the fate, and situations become irate.
I hold the weight of sorrow and tears on my shoulders.
These boulders of misery and mayhem.
Don’t judge a book by its cover.
Even with my attractive façade I deal with odd
circumstances.
You have the advances for peace and ability to be free.
Who me?
Most people fear me.
I’m the last on their list-
-But midst all of the nonsense, I often go to waste.
You know, I’ve always been jealous of you, maybe even
crazed,
But come on let’s go, and make the best of our day.
Gluttony consumes you
As you stare with your eyes glazed
And your mouth salivating.
Putting on your hiking boots
To devour vanilla caramel mountains
Laying with cream colored satin
Enjoying the sweet coconut scent
The sand passes through the hour glass
Giving your gastronomy an expiration date.
You glare at the coffee cake with intensity
Wanting to consume all you can.
The stopwatch hits go for your diet
You won't cheat
So eat
Eat it all now.
Stupid, stupid girl
Allows the space in her head
Where her brain is supposed to be
To be filled with nonsense feelings of superficial comfort
Comfortable
Curious
Crazy
Dangerous
It's dangerous to walk around dark pathways with your eyes closed
You never know what's going to come out of the shadows
Naïve
Obscene
Unseen
On the silver screen
Eyes are glued
To misconstrued tales of amorous encounters
That are not going to happen in my lifetime
Feeling so empty as the credits roll
And the characters have their dreams come true
It's like I'm missing the adapter or something
To the ultimate connection
So what in the world is wrong with me?
Swirling skewed ideas
Of obtaining or sustaining relationships
Without refraining from giving it your all
There really should be training for this stuff
Sifting through the fluff
Looking at the hand that's been dealt
Deciding which bluff to call.
And just remember you're not playing strip poker
Even though with each unsuccessful game you lose a piece of yourself
No tip for the dealer
But if anyone else were to give their two cents
They would say, "What are you thinking?
You're beautiful
So dismiss those who need the submission
Or download of your grace.
Face your fear of being near spinsterhood
The most ridiculous notion in the neighborhood.
Watch for those who can't appreciate your light.
Fight to be happy.
But make it happen in the right state of mind.
You are one of a kind.
So don't roam the streets blind
To the fact that you're pretty amazing.
No question, comma, or quotation,
Just period.
I have a problema
When I'm trying to bust a rhyme
No es la misma thing
To get a flow going en Español
I lose control
Going in circles looking like a caracol
Palabras just don't come out the same
Trying to be profunda
Ending up just driving myself insane
Falta de vocabulary is my derrota
Missing the frases that are the bases of this stream of pensamientos.
As much as I want to creer
That I am a wonderful mezcla
Enjoying the best of two mundos
I realize my dose of idiomas is a bit de un lado
My Spanglish is lavish
Excepto when the lapiz hit the papel
Perhaps algún día
I'll be able to live better in los dos worlds
For now I'll just disfrutar life
With my PB & J and horchata.
What happens to our soul when a shadow is cast over our life?
Removing the light that can brighten up a day at the sight of hope.
How does one cope with the darkness and growing strife?
Not long ago, I wouldn't have had an answer
Just putting a show
Being a dancer on stage.
Containing the rage that in reality kept me in a cage.
Craving normality,
Whatever that is.
Going through each formality, but failing to remedy my ailing spirit.
It's not something simple that you can fix.
Not to say, I have all the tricks,
But the moment I decided to switch my plight for a fight to make things right
All of those nights became a little more clear.
Steering myself back on to the road
After a series of crashes
Getting up from the ashes of being burned from all sides
Enjoying the ride
Because I woke up from my nightmare
Into a dream
I'm taking control
Climbing out of the hole in my heart
A new start.
I'm alive
I'm awake.
I'm on my way.
As long as I'd like to prance in a field of tulips
Where our two lips can find each other
The brown dirt that separates us
Is growing longer with every sunrise
And when the night falls
My hopes of a real romance
Dwindle as the curse sets in
I am strangled with the telephone cord
Losing my breath
Growing faint
Not knowing if I have enough strength to continue to miss you
My world is growing hazy
And I begin to dream
I'm floating across the ocean
To a faraway place.
(And I’m sure when you look at me you’ll say, I bet you are)
But there isn’t enough strawberry ice cream or ho-hos in the world to fill the void that makes me hungry.
Hungry for love
Like the late Etta James (may her musical soul rest in peace) said, I want a Sunday kind of love.
Sun to brighten the dark path my heart has walked on for much too long.
Days without even a nibble of affection
Starving for attention
In need of a Grade A inspection
Instead of looking at just a reflection of the connection in need of correction or maybe just the deception of my own mind that a little elbow grease will make it work.
I drool to be cool like the girl on his arm, his prize, to my surprise a genuine relationship without the thought of the demise.
Thoughts that my jaw is tired of chewing on and spitting out.
Tired of writing poems and songs about a lonely girl and a love gone wrong,
Grumbling to be satisfied
Full on butterflies.
Mastering the art of compromise
Gazing with the eyes,
Measuring the power of something you cannot give a size.
I know I am not the only one with this starvation,
Creation of this sensation has been brought on by a society of falsification with no explanation and increasing interrogation about one’s own situation.
But alas I want to be danced and romanced, and lost in a trance (enough to lose a bus pass)
Given the chance at last to bask in the basket of goodies life has ahead.
Misunderstanding
I am not demanding the handing of the spoon to my mouth,
But my life has gone south
Since the landing of that plane
That was in the air for a fair amount of time
I didn’t commit a crime.
I know I crossed a line,
But I’m going out of my mind
As I try and try to catch a break
Making more and more mistakes than I’d like to take credit for.
I know sorry isn’t enough
Because the world is rough
And I just gotta toughen up
And get the hang of this stuff.
I am a privileged child I know
But I’d like to show I really am a humble person
As I stumble on the broken ground.
I’m trying to stick around,
But the sound of the pounding of my heart falling apart
Keeps me bound to this tragedy.
I’d deceive myself if I believed in the harmonious scene I’ve conceived in my head instead of knowing how to deal with the problem.
I've had this written for a while since I wanted to add it to the about me section on my main blog, and I finally recorded the video today. So here it goes...
Let me take a moment to introduce myself.
My name is Cathy.
That is, Cathy with a C.
And I hope you can see my name is Cathy.
Not Catherine, Katie or Kathleen.
As beautiful as those names are,
They are not mine.
I am Cathy, with a C.
You see, I’m kind of a nerd.
Band geek for life.
Reading Questionable Content (THE COMIC) online,
Still wearing pig tails.
And busting a move or bursting into song at any given time.
Even in the shampoo aisle
(Tresseme for curls please).
ABCs & 1,2,3s
My life has been school from the day I went to three different kindergartens.
Thriving off of to-do lists, brand new pens, pencils, highlighters, and the ever important first day of school outfit.
Outcast? Sometimes.
Outspoken? Rarely.
Outstanding? Perhaps.
Outgoing? On a good day.
Out of money? More often than not.
The knot in my stomach.
From that moment when someone that looks at you for a moment too long for comfort.
Is there something wrong with me?
With me is the love and support of family and 1500 facebook friends
(don’t hate)
Eighty-eight, the year of my birth.
Born in Raised in the California sun.
A desert Rose almost 6 feet tall and who knows how wide, whose roots spread across the world
World traveler, Struggling window shopper,
Teacher for now, Student for always.
Always looking for the best in people with scars along my legs from the times I’ve been burned, and insect bites.
Bytes of memory that fill my computer with thoughts of a future author, and hopefully comedienne.
See, we’ve come to an end, or rather transition to the chapter.
A song I heard made me start shooting out some rhymes and make my own song...here it is I prematurely started recording something, but we'll see where it ends up, just glad to get the pen to the paper again :)
