Today Won't End

i want to be alone.
not give reasons for why i am engulfed
in hopelessness.

me. who would never give up hope.
because it is my birthright; the name i was given
so i would never lack for it.

but it is failing me
at least for today.
hope is gone.

and i wish i were gone with her.

why can’t i plant a seed and be there to watch it grow?
why is there no place on this earth for me?
why has my right to live been taken from me?

why must i go on?
to what end? for what purpose?

today is a day in which there are no answers
to life’s most difficult unanswerable questions.

today is a day heavy with sorrow, despair.
today i would be anyone but me.
i would lie down and sleep so as to disappear.
i would take a walk; just leave for a few minutes
and never reappear in anyone’s life again.

today won’t end. and i won’t end it.

If

if i were a surgeon
i would cut open my own stomach
and remove the half ton of rocks that
somehow, when i wasn’t watching
found their way in there.

if i were a doctor,
i would listen to my heart
and confirm that its beat
was dangerously slow and pitiful.

if i were a dancer
i would retire,
knowing that my career was over,
for there is no joy left in me.

if i were a singer, which thank g-d i’m not
i would burn my guitar, along with my sheet music
and tear off my ears and lips and tongue
knowing that any need i ever had for them
was no more.

Wandering

wandering aimfully
one foot meaningfully placed in front of the other.
as if blind, as if deaf,
with only a tingle in my middle to
lead me on.

scary. yet better.
infinitely more accurate
than all the plans i ever made
bringing me daily closer
to my life’s purpose

makes no sense,
i have stopped wishing it would.

i only smile with the constant moments
of synchronicity.

the flow of irrational blessings.

the joy of not knowing, the relief
of not being responsible
nor needing to judge,

good things, bad things
fortune or curse

knowing its ALL in the plan.

My Son

my son is an enigma
his face a pool of expressive mystery
his smile elusive, and yet so enveloping
disarming

i wish i could stay angry.
his power over me,
to hurt me, when he snubs me
is overwhelming.

if he could only feel what i feel.
walk in my shoes.
carry around my bleeding heart in his chest.
just a moment.

if we could only be free to love each other
without reserve,
as we once did.
when there were no walls, no barriers,
no past, no baggage

only the moment
in which we held each other
read books,
sang songs,
played, ran and jumped

before i was crazy
before i was erratic
before i was a danger for him to be around.

when i used to be his Sun,
and he my Son.

Today is Paisley

Today is a day unlike any other
Today there is a woman
walking towards me
with a red paisley sweater
and a black and white flowered skirt
and sunglasses.

Her purse is happily striped
and boasts huge sunflowers.

She is unique.
I will never know her
or her significance.

Her life is a mystery;
as mysterious as my own.
She makes no sense.
Nothing does,
nor does it have to.

image information:
"Lower Case e"
Helaine Milliman
mixed media , page dimensions 8" x 10"
(matted)

Smoke

Ode to a Cigarette

You are a guilty pleasure
I crave you
when I am hungry
for love, or comfort
when I want to be held,
caressed.

I take your filter in
like the tiniest of penises.
My mouth engulfs you
I suck it all in, all down
into the depths of me...

But I’m sorry to say,
you are a poor substitute.

Nothing Works

Nothing you TRY to do works.
It's like pushing a boulder up a steep hill,
like doing the breaststroke
headlong into a mighty river current.
It's like picking a scab so the wound heals faster,
only to start the healing process all over,
this time with a scar.

Today, I feel like a scar.

Whatever the lesson is,
I'll never learn it
and I'm so tired.
tired of running
and tired of staying
wishing i could just be still
and be at peace.

Going back doesn't feel like a celebration.

Feels more like going home
after taking a wicked beating
and admitting in silence
that you were a coward.

Am I? A coward?

Responsible

Cancer is spreading
So many people have it
In their breasts and throats,
brains and balls.

It’s really death.

Death is spreading.
A death that begins in the spirit,
long before it manifests physically.

Cancer is yeast.
It is fed and multiplies
with every angry, resentful
repressed, bitter day
that passes.

And what about the innocent children
who haven’t had time to become bitter?

I say,
we are all responsible.

Heaven

There is a non-stop flurry of energy around me;
people rushing to and fro,
to and from very important obligations,
paying heed to all the ‘shoulds’
they were ever charged with.

It’s easier that way;
no need to think...
the invisible force of obligation is constantly pushing
from behind.

The cacophony blocks out
the quiet whisper
of a Spirit which pulls
in the direction
of the Unknown, the Mysterious,
the Marvelous, the Unimaginable.
The Fabulous realization of the
Wildest Dreams of the G-ds.

If they only knew what they were missing,
If they only knew how easy it is
to live in Heaven.

Ghost

I am a ghost
wandering among the ‘living’
people see me and they are startled
don’t trust their eyes

I like it this way

I am untouchable
I am free

You can’t hurt a ghost
and the hurt once done
stays in the past
to haunt the living
while the spirit who once suffered the pain
roams free.

Back

I carry on my back
the weight of a man
who carries on his back
the weight of the world.



My back hurts.




I’m tempted to shrug.

Sometimes it’s more than I can bear.

And then I remember
the G-ds gave me this job
because I am a goddess, too.
Because all my life I’ve been trained
to handle it.
And all that was just
dress rehearsal.

I’ve graduated to the status of deity,
with super powers that strengthen me
to tolerate that which mere mortals
could never bear.

I can bear the not knowing.

I can bear the blasts of angry energy.

I can bear the insatiable need.

I can bear the demands for nothing less than
perfection.

I can even bear not being the only one.

I can bear all this,
and whatever else may come.

Song of God

A song is written in a moment
in a flash
G-d speaks and those that hear,
sing.

It is the tune of life with which
we should all harmonize daily.

It’s crazy to shut Him out;
shut out the Light;
hide in vain from He
that is omnipresent.

I sing because I’m happy.
I sing because I’m free.

You are all to me.

Not My Will

who am i without you?
every time i make a move in that direction;
to individuate, establish myself
apart from you,
my efforts are thwarted, sabotaged,
come to naught.

the universe is adamant that i belong to you.

that my path is lit by the beacon
of your heart.
that my direction is that which you lead me in.

so not me.
difficult to swallow,
my pride is KILLING ME in this moment.

it will kill me if i hold on to it.

i want so badly to call the shots.
lead the band,
strategize and plan,
get you ahead of the game,
on my terms, on my time frame,
with my effort,
so maybe then it will be MY victory.

not yours.

after all you've been through.

how could i?

do i have the guts to get off the
road of Good Intentions?

do i have the humility to be
behind the scenes?

can i allow my glory to come from
a source that's silent,
my praises whispered by angels?

The Palms

palm trees whisper your name
the realness is crisp
it grounds me to watch
the wispy graceful palm
writhe and sway with the wind.

i seek you.
seek to hear and feel you.

want to be in you,
be one with you,
no separation

you reflect me

whatever ails me,
you can calm and soothe.

your grandness and majesty
can take my breath away,
make my heart ache
with the longing
that only immense beauty provokes.

i am happy now.
i can stare at the crisp palms forever.

Cruising

i remember now,
if i go where i’ve always gone,
see who i’ve always seen,
say what i’ve always said,
laugh at the same jokes,
repeating the same lines,
eating the same dish at the same restaurant,

i will eliminate contrast in my life.
spontaneity will be a big word in the dictionary.
surprise will be a fondly remembered concept.

i remember now,
that life is meant to flow,
like a river,

not cruise,
like a car
on automatic.

Wanting

enfadada, hot, asquiada.
waiting for something.
the most active activity is the slight movement of a tree bathed in yellow blossoms.
almost no movement at all.
normal i guess, for life in the desert.
as it should be.
yet incompatible with life as it would be.
i long to soar. miss the adrenalin. want to know what’s next.

longing to feel it’s all for something.
that there’s a higher cause. meaning. something that at some point will be measurable.
and i will get my gold star.

If you are a mime

i have limitless freedom.
as if i were retired.
or an as-yet untamed toddler.

i can do what i want. go where i want to go.
my only responsibility to feed and cloth and fuck (oops! ‘make love to’) a man
who i like love respect and admire.
if he’s okay, i’m okay.
sounds too good to be true.

i don’t make lunches, or do homework.
i don’t get up at dawn and rush to make it before the gates close.
i don’t set alarms.
i don’t attend mandatory meetings.
i don’t participate in a world that runs on musts and shoulds.
i have stepped outside its boundaries, never ever to return.

my cell phone is no longer my master.
my email goes days unread.
peoples expectations may continue to exist in their own minds,
but they can’t be pushed on me.

i’m free, fuck you all.
i know you’re jealous and want to cage me because you can’t be me.

the realities that confine you are of your own making.
like the walls of a mime.
transparent, imaginary, but very real.
if you’re a mime.

Masks

Sunday
in guadalajara
breakfast in a busy hotel restaurant
relaxed faces
happy chatter
happy chewing
buffet evaporating

for me every day is Sunday
every day is a day to just be
every day is a chance to relax over my breakfast
enjoy the scenery
and appreciate living

i am lucky, few know this joy
people think i must suffer
that it must be a trial
to love the man i love
that assuredly i am mistreated
they may even suspect
that my body hides bruises
underneath my clothes

people believe what they see with their eyes
they are unaware that things are almost never as they appear
that we all wear masks
well, most

but not him.