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Acceptance thumps Anxiety: in 2 Haiku

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1
Wild, wanton even
anxiety, wreaks havoc
runs amok, this day.

~Marcela: anxious. Stop, revise: fucking anxious.

2
Unruffled, tranquil
faith, acceptance, don red cape
whisper: fly. Higher!

~Marcela: Cape firmly in place, next…

Image: courtesy of google image search: https://www.google.ca/search?biw=1366&bih=657&tbm=isch&sa=1&btnG=Search&q=get+cape+wear+cape+fly

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I Am My Own Life-Raft

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Like so many of the warrior women I know and love, my life has been rich with experience. Seemingly unattainable goals accomplished, despite (or because of) immense barriers and roadblocks. And it has been fraught with battles of my own and others’ making, many from which I did not emerge victorious, was deeply wounded, and left for dead. There have been times during which I was so broken that I was dispossessed of the capacity to enjoy anything or anyone I love. There have been times during which my pain coloured everything muddy, dark, like when all the water colours on a painting run together. The past was a dirty brush which tainted my present and future. To love someone to the core, and be loved by them, to the core, knowing that the only decision remaining is for us to travel alone, for a while, or for longer, is the epitome of bittersweet. This pain is like no other pain I have ever felt. To feel it at this stage of my human evolution is like no other experience I have ever had. I have no guide, I have no barometer, I have nothing but self, as it should be. This pain is clear, its edges are sharp, and it is single-minded in purpose, in that it is bereft of all that does not belong to it. And it is ever-present. The difference between those muddy, dark times and now, is that while this pain is unrelenting, and at times the wave is fierce, so am I, and I know I will not drown, that the tears will subside again, and until the next wave, I will glide on smoother waters, enjoying the view, in all its clarity and sharpness, from the life raft I am.
~Marcela: </3

June 28, 2016

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Craizy-Daizy…

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So I sat there making daisy-chains

while you played with the hand grenade

that detonated in my heart

their yellow-white all innocence

belying your true impotence

and the rage of disappointment

a wildflower in captivity

held in the thinly veiled depravity

of the ancient ruse called love

but this here flow’ring maiden

less lackadais(y)cal than brazen

weathers this next storm

~Marcela: standing ground, because it’s not all sunshine’n daisies in here…

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Dandelion – Haiku

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Dandelion bursts

stoically through asphalt,

staking out her claim.

~Marcela: (pain)staking claims… June 22, 2016

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Call me Chamomile…

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Scotch Broom

invasive, unrelenting bully,

has nothing

on Chamomile’s quiet crusade

to propagate and grow,

where no Broom

has dared vomit,

its noxious seed.

Call me Chamomile,

growing, unapologetic

and oh so inconveniently,

right in the middle of the damn road!

~Marcela: Unapologetically inconveniencing, you?

June 22, 2016

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Disheveled…

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Disheveled…

True to form,

unhinged, and

in(complete)

and utter disarray,

she turns inwardly

to scream,

at the demons.

~Myla: true to form…

June 19, 2016

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Cancerian Side-Step

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Crab-Walker

A cancerian side-step
on the mountain like Otep
Shamaya, that is…
infernal screaming
salt-rivers streaming
crevasses and gorges
eye’s-blood forges
lava lines on a face
botox not to erase
triumphant tall tales
as well the fails
of proportions epic, that is…
stories rife
furious life
noisy this silence
obscuring the violence
mind gone wild
untamed adult-child
mutters insanities
trapped in banalities
of one’s own choosing, that is…
inaudible plea
no chutzpah to flee
this bird-cage un-gilded
wings flapping bewildered
red smear on a white page
reading lines on a stage
one so prudently set
best not forget
designer and choreograph
of this story’s epitaph
she/herself and yours truly
ever most duly
contrary in diction
this life of non-fiction, mine, that is…
dance of cancerian side-steps
while ludicrous forceps
tear out the part
once resembled a heart
and that bitch called love
bleeds on the floor
resembles the whore
that I am…
fuck
me, no,
you.
~Marcela: unapologetically yours.
June 10, 2016

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If I stopped believing in Love…

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If I stopped believing in Love

because my heart has been wounded

I would stop believing in everything I do

and if I stopped believing in everything I do

I would stop doing everything I do

and if I stopped doing everything I do

I would cease to breathe

because love is the basis of all human connection

and human connection is the basis of love

and love is the basis of everything that I do

and must be the air that I breathe

or I will suffocate on hate

I am not perfect at it

yet.

~Marcela: (im)perfectly Unfiltered.

May 21, 2016

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My Valiant Purple Heart

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PurpleHeart

 

 

 

 

 

I know you not, love
For you come to me disguised

I get you not, love
For you speak to me in forked tongues

I hear you not, love
For you whisper to me screaming

I see you not, love
For you obscure my vision

I taste you not, love
For your sapor is but acrid

I smell you not, love
For your scent is cheap perfume

I feel you not, love
For your touch is numbing absence

I fear you not, love
For I have a valiant, purple heart.

~Marcela: undone
March 15, 2016

Image credit: Vinoth Chandar

Retrieved from:http://www.bbc.com/earth/story/20160212-the-unexpected-origin-of-love

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Ashley Madison: Why did it become so popular to cheat?

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I recently signed on as a blogger for a fundraising effort for the YWCA, The Rose Project. The  myriad issues facing women young and old, are addressed here, and very near and dear to my heart, in more ways than I can articulate. This is the first post of many I have in the works in support of this effort. Please check out the site, contribute with your hard-earned cash as you can, and enjoy some really good reading, written by some really smart folks.

AshleyMadisonIn the course of my informal social research on Ashley Madison (AM), I formulated the following thoughts: Monogamy is a personal choice, morality is pliable at best, and utterly subjective at worst, so these two concepts in and of themselves offer little in the way of answers to the question at hand. I have turned this question over in my mind to the point of distraction, and put it forward to my various networks. There is little consensus and so many opinions that I could have written a book, but I was able to pick up on several themes.

It seems to me, and apparently to others, that when we choose to be in a committed, monogamous, relationship, whether dating, common-law, or religiously and legally sanctioned by marriage, we have entered an agreement with our partner, to be, duh, monogamous.

The folks I communicated with agreed that the trademarked AM tagline is very telling and I keep coming back to it, and its underlying messages: “Life is short. Have an affair.” I believe that at least part of what is so attractive to people about AM and similar sites, is that at the core, we have become a culture of entitlement. One in which everything has become a matter of fun, adventure, personal rights and deservingness, and the pervasive attitude that everything, including humans, is replaceable. If we’re not getting what we want from what and whom we have in our lives, we can get a new one, a better one, a different one, and it’s OK, AM says so! Life is short after all; we should have our cake and eat it too! Our wants have become perceived as needs, and perhaps, a growing laziness to do any real personal work, driven by unrealistic expectations of love and good relationships, are also at play. In Why Women Cheat: A Married Man goes Undercover on Ashley Madison, Charles J. Orlando discovers that many of the women want more (attention) than they have in their committed relationships, but are unwilling to leave their partner for any number of seemingly valid reasons; including standards of living provided by a spouse, staying for the kids, staying for social standing, and the like. It feels like a copout to me. My professional life informs me that well-adjusted, separated/divorced adults can provide great co-parenting, and come to good decisions about money, without living, and modeling, a lie.

The other question I keep coming back to? Why would I commit, lead my partner to believe that I want a monogamous relationship, when I don’t? What happened to just being straight up? Even if I have simply changed my mind about what kind of relationship I want? What has happened to personal integrity? I am reminded of the simple, but oh-so-difficult-to-live-by Four Agreements by Miguel Ruiz, specifically, Agreement One: Be Impeccable With Your Word. Translation: be honest; don’t lie, don’t deceive, if you have agreed to be in a monogamous relationship, don’t cheat; you have given your word.

The Truth About Love... When I polled my friends and colleagues about their experiences with cheating, most admitted to having done it, and for the record, I have too. We all had various reasons and justifications, but the common threads in this piece of my social research are that we subscribe to monogamy, none of us felt/feel good about having done it, and all of us had intense guilt shame about it. Many of these folks also thought that any culturally accurate answer to the question of why it has become so popular to cheat, needed to examine how our core values in relation to throw-away mentality, has changed over time and in the age of consumerism, (perceived but unattainable) perfection, better, bigger, more.

Stuart D., the one public responder on my personal Facebook page, to a request for perspectives on why AM has become so popular, resonated strongly with my own thoughts about consumerism and the commodification and quantification of everything in our culture. He offered what is for me, a stunning insight into how sites like AM are contributing to the consume/commodify everything mindset, and how that is related to our ability to perpetrate violence: “Once we accept that people can be used and tossed aside violence is a very short step away if we are unhappy or unfulfilled in any way.”

I would add to that the scintillation of an adventure in a life fraught with responsibilities and meaninglessness, the (false) promise of complete anonymity (read: secrecy) because it’s the Internet, the pretense of no harm no foul, and the road to all willing infidels is paved in gleaming gold. In some ways, it is the Eldorado to feed the core of human greed; it offers the appearance of something (extra), and risking nothing. It has been my experience in life and love, that the greatest risk (and reward) of all is the vulnerability created with complete honesty and transparency in relationships. And maybe, just maybe, that is another of the possible answers to the question; Why it has it become so popular… to cheat? Perhaps it is because sites like AM provide the seeming opportunity of getting something, without risking anything, but most especially, not our oh-so-vulnerable hearts, and the potential of someone seeing our truest self.

And then there is the entire issue of AM and similar sites being an ‘online’ thing, and the disturbing trend of psychological disconnect that happens for folks in online interactions, and falsely feed ideas that these interactions are not as bad as engaging in person, even when ultimately, the encounters often become real time and real life, real cheating.

I invite you to consider the quote about Love in the image attached to these thoughts and share your perspectives on it, as well as the following questions:

Do you think that cheating is so popular through an online venue because folks feel as though because it was instigated online, it isn’t as bad?

Do you know anyone who has used sites like AM and what was their experience?

What are your thoughts on making an informed and thought out decision to use a site like AM, after having committed to a monogamous relationship?

What do you think about current cultural norms of replacing what is, or feels broken, as opposed to working on or fixing it?

~Marcela.

Images/Quotes:

https://www.ashleymadison.com

Love is something Different – Melanie J. Williams

 

 

 

 

 

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Pyre (o’maniac)

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Derailed, discombobulated
hamster wheel for a brain,
drives my treasonous
heart
that run-amok freight train.

Incessant, the thoughts
constant and circular
brain matter
detonates
fuse lit by vernacular.

Disillusioned, with Life
and other L words,
I question
reality
is flying high for the birds?

Wakeful, I fret
over this, about that,
rue and
regret
engaging with gnats.

Diminished, extinguished?
the yearnings and flames,
all stealth and sneak
fear
stakes a new claim.

Vehement, (m)utterings
implore a but smouldering fire,
(re)torch that heart
woman
get back up on your pyre!

~MyLa: unfettered and spinning, yarns…
(01, 2016)

… t’was a most fitful night… brain ran in circles, how fitting the photo I snapped accidentally on my beloved trail yesterday… and as I coined another fretful ditty, this thought slapped me upside the head: the point is, nothing in my life, ever, has occurred in any sort of logical order, but particularly not in any sort of expected, culturally appropriate, or accepted order or manner. So how could I possibly write about any of it that way? And KaPow, with a random meme about the next 365 days, and a most productive night of wakefulness, the Year of Fly, and the next great thing, is born in the never ending purgastory, that is my 24-7 brain. Stick around and help me feed this baby, give this dragon, (unicorn?) wings. Or don’t. The next level of Unfiltered is coming, either way.

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Jump; into this dis-ordered life!

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This love and life are schizophrenic
confusing and bizarre
a psychotic freight train run-a-mok
searching for its freight train cars

This love and life are melancholia
contradictory depths and shallows
understated hyperbole
its verdant fields all fallow

This love and life are so neurotic
too bad – too good – too much – too small
plod and slog along that edge
‘til through the cracks we fall

This love and life are paranoid
para-normal even
monsters lurk ’round every corner
something to believe in

This love and life are anxious
fear this – fear that – fear self
hide that heart way up on high
up on the highest shelf

This love and life are O C D
chaos seeks control
prim and perfect to appear
lest the death knell tolls

This love and life are risky
unsafe and oh-so-perilous
jump to me – come off that ledge
else each breath be but vicarious

~Marcela; unfinished
For my work kid Einstein, with so much gratitude that we get to keep flying in the Tardis together, and all the others who have walked the edge, stood on the ledge, and for those who jumped and didn’t have us to catch them, in time.
October 24, 2015

This past week the Universe conspired to connect so many experiences and events in the various worlds I occupy; with a semi-colon. In the wee hours of another fitful and anxious night I struggled to turn off the demons; the ones I bring home from work more often than not. Those of the work-folks I care for so deeply, and my own. At four a.m. it was clear that the demons were not to be tamed, so I chose to get up and write them out in the form of this ditty. Later that morning I came upon the art and heart of one John Finn and found another kindred spirit via my big brother Tom. That work day consisted of 9 relatively unexpected hours in a hospital with the 12-year-old work kid I will call Einstein. The demons were so loud, so overwhelming, that this brilliant and beautiful child wanted to die. I need to get one, a semi-colon tattoo; for Einstein, for me, for you, for all the work-kids, for their parents, for so many people I have known and loved, for Marilyn, for Robin Williams, for Dorothy Parker and for Sylvia Plath, just some of the people who move me so deeply, long after their time here ran out. Get one too? Come on, I double-dog-dare you!

Image: “Pause” Courtesy of the Über-talented John Finn.

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Political Fruit Salad for Breakfast in my Canadian World…

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20151020_123328[1]I was set to comment about normally reserving this venue for my personal poetry and other less political offerings, but clearly I have just met some of my writing if I think it isn’t political in one way or another. I have believed for a long time now that the Personal is indeed Political, and politics in one way or another are inherent to everything I do and write about.

This bit here, is literal in the political sense, and quite the tippy-top of the Iceberg in terms of the many thoughts I have about the political topic du jour here in Canada. I have however, come across enough nit-picking this fine day, to warrant just a little bit of an as yet under-caffeinated opinion.

We made huge strides in so many ways last night! So while all of the nit-pickers are busy looking for issues to nit-pick apart, I will focus on the good shit:
-Voter turnouts were the highest in decades (and not all of the numbers are in yet, particularly those of folks who registered on voting day, that queue here in Duncan was peopled well.
-Advance polls were the highest, 71% more folks voted in advance polling than in 2011 SEVENTY-ONE Percent!
-More Indigenous voters than ever before! Many communities actually ran out of ballots
-70,000 students voted in advance polls alone, and we know that historically student turnout has been poor…
-32 of 42 possible ‘no to Enbridge’ Candidates voted in, 7 pro Enbridge candidates defeated
-Trudeau actually has a lot of very smart plans for this country in terms of families and other social policy. This is huge in my world, HUGE!
-Harpo, and by direct extension many of his corrupt cronies are OUT for fuck’s sake! No outcome could be better than that fact alone!

We have STOPPED Harper!The hardest part for J.T. is yet to come, and it is up to us to avoid jumping on the finger-pointing bandwagon when things don’t go exactly our way, because really, put yourself in his (or Obama’s for that matter) shoes, just for a minute, and think about what it might feel like to walk into and through the quagmire he just quite willingly and with such great effort and passion, inherited! We have as much to do with it as Harpo did, because we closed our eyes for 10 years and pretended he wasn’t there. If young J.T. starts going sideways it is up US to hold him accountable, whether we voted for him or not.

For the record: Green is my party, I voted orange, and red won. I feel as though we all did. And like I’ve eaten fruit salad, always a healthier choice than picked nits.
Peace,

~Marcela: well nourished.

Sources:

CBC News

Global News

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Of Virgins and snow

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Ice Tears - Norway

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

T’was a night before morning
and all through this life
the nightmare before daytime
gifts no end of strife

Ghosts of then ghouls of now
haunt an overwrought soul
a confusing cacophony
words falling, pits of black coal

Tides and torrents
tumble in and gush out
run down cheeks in hot streams
throat swallows shut

Blue eyes query wildly
what the fuck goes on here?
silenced voice screaming
your fears, we live near!

Embrace them, relinquish
hold on tight but let go
you are the virgin
they drove into that snow.

~Myla: Melting.

September 30, 2015

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Contradictions… III

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female-fragment-1.PaigeBradley

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Contradictions… III

I am…
…loosely cemented… no, inured and secured… of far sighted vision… sight lines fully obscured… entire… no partial… I cower… no rise… small silly child… no, crone oh-so -wise… zig zag and waver… no, I walk a strong gait… run to a finish line… no (im)patiently wait… emptiness, hollow… fill my bottomless soul… stubborn… no willing… fragmented… no whole… pieces of puzzles falling down to a floor… fall apart… no together… build a wall… no, a door… treasure inside… open it, open it… no, slam it shut… should have known better… Pandora! You slut.

~Myla: unknowingly certain.
September 21, 2015

Image: Female Fragment, with masses of love and gratitude for the art of Paige Bradley