naffwrites-blog

[naffwrites-blog]

9.1.19

I loved you more than I've ever loved anyone

And now I feel like an artist without an art

I spent all my creativity trying to break walls around your heart

#Poetry

[naffwrites-blog]

6.1.19

It seems that when that which is coveted is conquered and diminished, its value is lost.

The fleece has lost its plush softness once it's been through the dryer.

The mirror cabinet seems dirty and worn once it's not clean white.

That lampshade doesn't fit quite right.

There's a gap between where the mat meets the print and suddenly the composition loses all its color.

I seem dulled and exhausted when I've been depleted by expectation.

Everyone is special until they've been known.

#Poetry #spilled ink

[naffwrites-blog]

5.13.19

I'm learning that sometimes I need to turn my heart inside outward I get so wrapped up in ego That I don't leave room for compassion or even worry for the people I love. It's not all about how moods or feelings relate to me. Maybe sometimes we need to tuck people into bed and not worry about where our identities fit into their puzzle. Maybe sometimes I need to be mindful of how sweet your face looks when you're sleepy And how it felt to hold your hand while you guided me through the rocks in Cape Elizabeth. Or how it felt when you squeezed me tight on your birthday and told me how special I am. Maybe if I was less busy analyzing every little thing I could tell you more often how special you are.

#Poetry

[naffwrites-blog]

Today I asked the I Ching: 

“What am I not seeing or accepting in my life 

that I need to see and accept?”

As I tossed the coins, my face in a slight grimace...

I suspected it would confirm a worst fear or 

show me that those I hold dear

don’t hold me at all.

But I cast the coins and line by line the hexagram built:

Hexagram 14

Ta Yu, or, Great Treasures.

(Moving line 5, transforming into Hexagram 1:

Ch'ien, or, Creative Activity.)

“Ta Yu is formed when Fire moves over Heaven.

Life has offered you its greatest gift – 

the power to shine with an inner certainty that need not be defended.“

If every thing in the universe has a purpose, 

why should I strive to be anything but myself? 

“There are many blessings at your disposal that only require that you keep your relationships balanced with sincerity.

You are received like plants greeting the sun.”

If seeing and accepting my great treasures is what I’ve been missing,

it seems my time to lead with sincerity has come.

#poetry #i ching #hexagram 14

[naffwrites-blog]

4.26.19

I'm seeing now that walking the middle path is harder than it looks.

The path between calm detachment and panic is almost impossible to find.

I want to be energetically engaged, not fighting to keep my eyes open or fighting to keep my heart rate low.

But a tiny voice in my heart tells me to stop striving.

#Poetry

[naffwrites-blog]

4.25.19

Sometimes it feels good to get out of the amygdala And daydream about shopping for a shower curtain when I move Daydreams of walking down the aisle At Bed, Bath, & Beyond. My apartment won't look half modern and half WASP Barbie Beach House I won't have a white dining room with 6 chairs gone unsat And that ugly psychedelic nightmare pumpkin vase. There will be a reasonable amount of shampoo in the shower And there will be no glass coffee table threatening to crack. I will move freely from room to room, unlike my current ghostly glide. I will dance while I wait for my water to boil like I used to And won't find dread behind closed doors.

#Poetry

[naffwrites-blog]

4.24.19

I can only eat once I've cried my eyes out I get that feeling where I want to apologize to everyone at once And like I am such a burden on everyone And like no one really loves me And that maybe love doesn't exist And it's all fleeting infatuation. I cry when I think about the ways I love you Because they are so unique to you and irreplaceable But also because they are ways I love myself and ways you show me myself. That kind of wholesome thought fuels me until I'm reminded of ways my worth has been taken by events out of my control. I have to remind myself to keep going because part of my love for you is a love for life.

#Poetry

[naffwrites-blog]

4.23.19

I amaze myself every day

with my grace and perseverance 

and poise and my capacity for heartbreak

and my wisdom and ease and maturity

and the way I open myself up to feel it all.

I love who I am and all my facets, even the ugly.

Yes, sometimes I’ll catch myself in the mirror

and become entranced by my brown eyes and perfect brow

my high cheekbones and my parted lips.

So elegant and wild.

But I know that like all things, those will fade

and left standing strong will be my character

which I have built up and built up again from nothing.

Yes, I even love myself when I jump to conclusions and project

and use defense mechanisms and make mistakes.

But there are no mistakes, we are just nature. 

#poetry

[naffwrites-blog]

4.20.19

My days are made of

Crying, release

Meditation, release

Pent up emotion, release

Constriction, release

Like a heart valve.

#Poetry #anxiety #spilled ink

[naffwrites-blog]

4/19/19

I want to love but never possess.

Too often have I found myself

struggling to have and hold

but what you hold, dies in your grasp.

#poetry #spilled ink

[naffwrites-blog]

4.18.19

Saying “thank you” more and “sorry” less

I don’t want to worry about being acceptable anymore

I want to embody my authentic self and if you cannot accept it,

it may hurt, I am sensitive still

but I will live. 

The power to say, this is not serving me. 

The power to say, I will serve myself.

The power to say, I will not serve you if you don’t serve me.

How many actions have I performed only to appease?

I’ve lost complete view of what I actually want. 

I want to practice “right speech.” 

Right now I do not practice “right speech” because 

I say what I think wants to be said.

I say what I think I should say.

I say and say without reflecting.

In a search for a happy ending, I’ve forgotten that I need to be there too.

#poetry

[naffwrites-blog]

4/17/19

I dont have any words in me today

[naffwrites-blog]

4.16.19

My body is a raw nerve My brain is a runaway train I tremble and shake And threaten to implode.

#Poetry

[naffwrites-blog]

4.15.19

Have I spoken so many lies in my lifetime

that my stomach bile begs to be released

out of my mouth and leaves my voice strained and hoarse?

What is the spiritual meaning of this

and is acceptance the only way through?

My new home is discomfort and my new calling is acting.

Acting as if I can’t taste the acid on my tongue

and as if I can keep my eyes open

and putting on smiles.

The closest ones to me are fed up:

they want to see my soul shine through my teeth

and the vibrant life in my eyes

and when I feel like this, I can’t give that to them.

I can only flicker and fade and try to catch them on a good day.

#silent reflux #anxiety #panic disorder

[naffwrites-blog]

4.15.19

I had some toast.

I think I’ll live.

[naffwrites-blog]

11.20.18

Did we love more freely

when life was more fragile?

When we didn’t feel like

we were entitled to day after day?

I want to be loved as if

I can’t be brought back to life if I die.

I don’t want to be put on the shelf

because my expiration date is longer.

Love me now in my ripest

when we are the most sweet.

#poetry #spilled ink

[naffwrites-blog]

11.9.18

There’s something unspoken that dances around you

You seem like a new soul, impish and flailing.

I know I have been here longer than you

And maybe you sense that stiff authority in me.

Sometimes you seem like a little boy wearing his father’s clothes

You may have more lines on your face and more silver peeking through

But I know I have been here far longer than you.

You’d think I’d envy your present moment attachment

But like anything else, it is not good to be so attached.

I read of a monk who meditated 10 hours a day

At what point does introspection become an escape?

We each ride different waves of time,

however uncanny our brain’s synchronicity may be.

At what point do philosophical musings become masturbatory?

#poetry #spilled ink