"We lost touch
we lost in love
we lost our minds when things got tough
but
beating time is a losing fight
and I guess I'm doing alright."
~Jo Dee Messina
There are people I've danced with
and I can't remember all of their names
and this bothers me.
I've danced as much as I could
with what I've been given
and I dance in my imagination
and in my dreams
to all of the music I know.
I write because
I hurt all over
because the pills that I take
don't work and it is frustrating
and because the words have to mean something
I have to believe in something
and I write because I have stories and
I want to tell them sometime
I want to live on in my words
achieving immortality in some way or another
does that make me self centered?
oh well, my supposed self centered-ness aside,
I can dance in my living room now
I have a living room large enough and clean enough
and a person who's happy enough to dance with me
who told me
whenever we dance, I want to kiss you.
I fall in love when we clean the kitchen
and when we yell at each other from across the rooms
and waking up gives me terrible satisfaction
because what if it is all a dream?
What if I'm still trapped
still stuck?
What if this walk forward is all temporary
one step forward
ten steps back?
But what if it isn't?
What if these plans I'm slowly building
amount to something so very beautiful
Showing posts with label dance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dance. Show all posts
Saturday, November 9, 2013
Sunday, April 7, 2013
Can we rest?
"we may shine
we may shatter
may be pickin up the pieces here on after
we are fragile we are human
we are shaped by the light let through us
we break fast
cause we are glass."
The second
blurs in my memory a little
because of boxing things up
and pain and things not said or
things said but roads not taken and
whatnot.
But there was a boymanchildthing
who got me out of my chain mail and
pulled me out of class one day and it was
pouring outside. Simply pouring.
Drenching.
and pulled me into a green grassy field
and said
Dance with me.
I was not amused
at first.
No
I said
I do not want to dance
and get rained on
are you crazy?
And he said
dance with me,
woman. We don't get
many signs like these.
And because
how often, really
does he ask you to dance
and it is raining(!)
I said yes.
It couldn't have
been the hours it felt like.
I know people saw us because
they spoke of it later
speculating on the beauty of it
hoping to make me blush
and deny it
but it felt like he had written me a song
and we were the only people who had
ever heard it and would ever heard it.
We danced and our bodies fit together
like two pieces of a puzzle
and all the gas and fire and rage and frustration
was just.....quiet.
We were quiet and didn't speak
we just danced
and I will never forget how cool and quiet it felt.
How comforted I was by the presence of someone
who took comfort in the rain as well.
In my reptile brain
this memory is classified as
highly painful. So it fades
and seems blurry and beautiful
so any refreshers would be appreciated
because a reclassification is in order
obviously.
Saturday, April 6, 2013
Dance Along the Line of Day
"Rain falls angry on the tin roof
as we lie awake in my bed."
~Edwin McCain, Overused Songs of the 2000s
There have been two
magical style dancing in the rain moments
in my life
moments that deserve to be on shows like
Dawson's Creek, One Tree Hill and
the like.
The first was in 2008 and
it had begun to rain.
One of my friends and I
had just snuck back on campus
after leaving to have lunch and whatnots
with a current boyfriend.
We were invincible,
walking through the parkin glot.
Nothing could touch us.
And it began to rain.
And we looked at each other
and took off our sweater vests until
it was simply skirt and shirt and shoes
and began to dance
We had no music.
We did not speak.
We simply moved.
We were feral and wild.
Several cars drove by
and then drove up into the parking lot
and watched as we danced.
We did not dance for anyone's titillation
but there was an enchantment nevertheless.
We danced until we were sopping wet
until our long hair was drenched
and we kept dancing anyway.
We danced alone and we danced together
and the rain kept falling.
I do not know how long
we danced for
and neither of us has forgotten that day
although we do not speak of it often,
because we know there was power there
moving between us.
There still is, on occasion,
but never so much as that afternoon.
That afternoon was magic
and there was sunlight
in the rain drops.
as we lie awake in my bed."
~Edwin McCain, Overused Songs of the 2000s
There have been two
magical style dancing in the rain moments
in my life
moments that deserve to be on shows like
Dawson's Creek, One Tree Hill and
the like.
The first was in 2008 and
it had begun to rain.
One of my friends and I
had just snuck back on campus
after leaving to have lunch and whatnots
with a current boyfriend.
We were invincible,
walking through the parkin glot.
Nothing could touch us.
And it began to rain.
And we looked at each other
and took off our sweater vests until
it was simply skirt and shirt and shoes
and began to dance
We had no music.
We did not speak.
We simply moved.
We were feral and wild.
Several cars drove by
and then drove up into the parking lot
and watched as we danced.
We did not dance for anyone's titillation
but there was an enchantment nevertheless.
We danced until we were sopping wet
until our long hair was drenched
and we kept dancing anyway.
We danced alone and we danced together
and the rain kept falling.
I do not know how long
we danced for
and neither of us has forgotten that day
although we do not speak of it often,
because we know there was power there
moving between us.
There still is, on occasion,
but never so much as that afternoon.
That afternoon was magic
and there was sunlight
in the rain drops.
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
loves to dance
"Well my friends back home think I've
gone and lost my mind
take a sip of rum
and you really would know why
Jolly Roger flying on a picnic table
Blender in the kitchen
willin' and able
Don't know what makes you say
"What the hell"
But when the salt air catches a hold of
that sail
Something bout it makes you just wanna dance
and she loves to dance."
~ Kenny Chesney
I do
I love to dance
I've been dancing in kitchens
and living rooms since I can remember,
the earliest being around 1999 because
that is when that particular CD came out
and I was obsessed with it, as much as a little girl can be
and that is one of the first time I remember dancing by myself
along with the first time I danced with a man
I was six and he was my daddy and he taught me to two-step
at Eddie's Country Ballroom
on a side note
that place caught on fire 3 years ago
and I still haven't recovered
because I had my 16th birthday party there
and I learned to dance there.
Some of my fondest memories
center around dance.
One of the most awkward dance routines I ever did
freshman year of high school
choreographed with friends I didn't know I had
still makes me smile and laugh when I hear an Usher song
First dance in high school
felt an erection pressed against my leg
walked away quickly
got in a screaming match with my dad later
that makes me laugh to this day.
Three years of going to the Toyota center
a full day away from parents and with friends
full of costumes and hairspray
and practicing dances
and hearing music that was so brutal and raw
I wept the nights after.
Dancing in the kitchen
with a man who didn't care about
anything but me.
Dancing at my first prom
with a boyfriend
while falling in love with
another person who watched us dance
the whole time.
Dancing with my mom in the evenings
two-stepping around the kitchen while
avoiding the dishes after dinner.
Dancing at my last prom
with my boyfriend and
sweating all my makeup off
from laughing and dancing so hard.
Dance classes in high school where I sat
and laughed with my friends twice a week.
Dancing in the kitchen last week with my best friend
while we make cookies and bread to
Thrift Shop and Maroon 5.
Dancing in my kitchen with the kids
trying to wake myself up.
Because she loves to dance
gone and lost my mind
take a sip of rum
and you really would know why
Jolly Roger flying on a picnic table
Blender in the kitchen
willin' and able
Don't know what makes you say
"What the hell"
But when the salt air catches a hold of
that sail
Something bout it makes you just wanna dance
and she loves to dance."
~ Kenny Chesney
I do
I love to dance
I've been dancing in kitchens
and living rooms since I can remember,
the earliest being around 1999 because
that is when that particular CD came out
and I was obsessed with it, as much as a little girl can be
and that is one of the first time I remember dancing by myself
along with the first time I danced with a man
I was six and he was my daddy and he taught me to two-step
at Eddie's Country Ballroom
on a side note
that place caught on fire 3 years ago
and I still haven't recovered
because I had my 16th birthday party there
and I learned to dance there.
Some of my fondest memories
center around dance.
One of the most awkward dance routines I ever did
freshman year of high school
choreographed with friends I didn't know I had
still makes me smile and laugh when I hear an Usher song
First dance in high school
felt an erection pressed against my leg
walked away quickly
got in a screaming match with my dad later
that makes me laugh to this day.
Three years of going to the Toyota center
a full day away from parents and with friends
full of costumes and hairspray
and practicing dances
and hearing music that was so brutal and raw
I wept the nights after.
Dancing in the kitchen
with a man who didn't care about
anything but me.
Dancing at my first prom
with a boyfriend
while falling in love with
another person who watched us dance
the whole time.
Dancing with my mom in the evenings
two-stepping around the kitchen while
avoiding the dishes after dinner.
Dancing at my last prom
with my boyfriend and
sweating all my makeup off
from laughing and dancing so hard.
Dance classes in high school where I sat
and laughed with my friends twice a week.
Dancing in the kitchen last week with my best friend
while we make cookies and bread to
Thrift Shop and Maroon 5.
Dancing in my kitchen with the kids
trying to wake myself up.
Because she loves to dance
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Weddings and work zombies
"I'm hell on heels
Baby, I'm coming for you."
~Pistol Annies
I am exhausted these days.
A new job, the first time doing night
shifts turns me into a zombie, a tired angry zombie
and my words are coming out slowly and
I have to spell everything twice for it to look
the way I want it to.
The shifts are starting to get easier,
kind of.
Eight hours of running back and forth
and intense cleaning and chemicals
and barking dogs all night
is more than enough to make my ears ring and
my feet ache by the time hour 6 rolls around
but there are sweet sweet dogs that want nothing
more than you to love them
and cats that purr when I walk by them.
I can listen to my music when I work
which helps the time fly and makes me dance
randomly, which I'm sure the security cameras appreciate.
So while I'm desperately tired and not coping quite as well
as I'd hoped with staying up for more than 24 hours at a time
there are animals that need me and coworkers
that seem okay with my personal brand of crazy
which involves never stopping talking
and screaming loudly if I am surprised.
I danced at a wedding reception a few days ago
and it was hilarious and awkward
because I was one of maybe four people at
any given time dancing
and it was a little odd
because I have years and years of seeing these people
as teachers and adults
and now we are relative equals
and they don't remember me as an almost-child
but I remember them as almost-authority figures
and it gets a little strange in my head
but I laughed and met and talked
with truly kind funny women
and an old enemy
who made me laugh hysterically throughout
the entire wedding
and we had to explain to people the nature
of our relationship
which was so many years as hostile
that in the now, when we are friendly,
we still mess with each other
but it is kinder
because we have known each other
and seen each other in ugly ugly places.
Going to a bar with people
feels so odd in my head
like I'm playing grown up
with the real adults.
But they gave me a drink when I ordered one
and only smiled a little
and all the real grown-ups
let me play with them sometimes
so it all works out in the long run.
Baby, I'm coming for you."
~Pistol Annies
I am exhausted these days.
A new job, the first time doing night
shifts turns me into a zombie, a tired angry zombie
and my words are coming out slowly and
I have to spell everything twice for it to look
the way I want it to.
The shifts are starting to get easier,
kind of.
Eight hours of running back and forth
and intense cleaning and chemicals
and barking dogs all night
is more than enough to make my ears ring and
my feet ache by the time hour 6 rolls around
but there are sweet sweet dogs that want nothing
more than you to love them
and cats that purr when I walk by them.
I can listen to my music when I work
which helps the time fly and makes me dance
randomly, which I'm sure the security cameras appreciate.
So while I'm desperately tired and not coping quite as well
as I'd hoped with staying up for more than 24 hours at a time
there are animals that need me and coworkers
that seem okay with my personal brand of crazy
which involves never stopping talking
and screaming loudly if I am surprised.
I danced at a wedding reception a few days ago
and it was hilarious and awkward
because I was one of maybe four people at
any given time dancing
and it was a little odd
because I have years and years of seeing these people
as teachers and adults
and now we are relative equals
and they don't remember me as an almost-child
but I remember them as almost-authority figures
and it gets a little strange in my head
but I laughed and met and talked
with truly kind funny women
and an old enemy
who made me laugh hysterically throughout
the entire wedding
and we had to explain to people the nature
of our relationship
which was so many years as hostile
that in the now, when we are friendly,
we still mess with each other
but it is kinder
because we have known each other
and seen each other in ugly ugly places.
Going to a bar with people
feels so odd in my head
like I'm playing grown up
with the real adults.
But they gave me a drink when I ordered one
and only smiled a little
and all the real grown-ups
let me play with them sometimes
so it all works out in the long run.
Saturday, March 2, 2013
I am riding the endorphin rush
that comes from getting the job and
remembering things long forgotten and
impromptu dance parties and fake arm long
tattoos that I've given myself and children who
dance in the kitchen with me and only two hours
of sleep and being a goddess of fire.
I was made to be worshiped.
I know I'll come down
but until I do, I'll listen to Pitbull
and dance like crazy in my kitchen and
be excited. Because baby, run
and dance dance
that comes from getting the job and
remembering things long forgotten and
impromptu dance parties and fake arm long
tattoos that I've given myself and children who
dance in the kitchen with me and only two hours
of sleep and being a goddess of fire.
I was made to be worshiped.
I know I'll come down
but until I do, I'll listen to Pitbull
and dance like crazy in my kitchen and
be excited. Because baby, run
and dance dance
Friday, December 7, 2012
Today is today
it has been long
and difficult
and I need both a drink and
a break.
or a cigar.
A cigar would be nice.
It is near cold enough
for one.
I have at least three I could smoke
plus an entire box that is his
but that he'll share
thankfully.
sometimes I am reminded of
how i fell in love with him
and why,
and how he dances with me
and what that does to me
and how he makes me smile
the way we work and play together
and how mutually frustrated we are
And how he listens to the things I love
even the teeny weeny leather bikini loves
and the dragon earring loves
and the WATCH BATTLESTAR WITH ME loves
these things are important to me
and so he makes them important to him.
I am so thankful for ibueprofen
makes the headaches slow down
all the tightness loosens.
it has been long
and difficult
and I need both a drink and
a break.
or a cigar.
A cigar would be nice.
It is near cold enough
for one.
I have at least three I could smoke
plus an entire box that is his
but that he'll share
thankfully.
sometimes I am reminded of
how i fell in love with him
and why,
and how he dances with me
and what that does to me
and how he makes me smile
the way we work and play together
and how mutually frustrated we are
And how he listens to the things I love
even the teeny weeny leather bikini loves
and the dragon earring loves
and the WATCH BATTLESTAR WITH ME loves
these things are important to me
and so he makes them important to him.
I am so thankful for ibueprofen
makes the headaches slow down
all the tightness loosens.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Stop driving on the walls! (stuff I yell at my kids....)
I remember being shamed into dancing with one such guy. My parents used to help chaperon every dance I went to in high school. At my first high school dance (ever), my dad met one such guy while all of the people were congregated out on the dance floor. I had seen the guy for the last few weeks and I was not friends with him. He was extremely invasive and didn't seem to pick up on any of the boundaries that I was rapidly throwing his way.
After about half an hour of dancing and keeping my dad in the corner of my eye, he eventually gestured for me to come over. In typical fashion, I was horribly embarrassed, but I wasn't about to ignore him and have it get problematic after the dance for me ignoring him. I came over, and he told me that the young man he had been talking to was really nice and I should probably go dance with him.
To this day, I have no idea what came over me, but I'm glad it did. The music was loud at the moment and I felt a red haze descend. I loudly, screamingly told my dad that there was no way. He got pretty mad and we stood there on the gym floor while everyone was dancing, and screamed at each other for at least 5 minutes, from what I can remember. Eventually, I was so irritated that I just walked off.
It makes me laugh retrospectively, because I was such a pushover with my parents. I still am. It is very very hard for me to ever say no to anything they ask. I am working on it, however. I hate saying no to people, still. I would rather lie and say yes, than have to say no to someone. That can be problematic for a number of reasons. Most of which come from, now people think that when I'm saying no, I'm screwing around. Meep.
Writing today has been very difficult. I'm trying to clean and take care of kids and I HATE THIS JOB. The only gratifying part of it is when my kids can run around and play downstairs. Then it is just funny. Even so, I am utterly exhausted by the end of the evening, which hits between 5 and 6 pm (day starts at 8), and many times after that, I go do some second shift at my parents house (maybe about twice a week).
I will be so glad when we have our own place. I don't care whether it is an apartment or a house, as long as there is a second room for the kids and that it is my own. I feel like I've written and spoken these words a million times, but I'll keep saying it until I have it. I mean it!
Love,
Hellkitten
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Late Father's Day part 1
Dear new father,
It’s the second day after Father’s day and I still find myself in the awkward position of having no words for this Father’s day post/letter/blog thing. I’m not appreciating the writer’s block at all, because normally these things come quickly and naturally to me. I’ve been writing to the people I’ve loved for years and years. Why is it so hard to with you? I honestly don’t know. I get all tongue-tied, as far as writing to you goes and that’s just ridiculous, because as you know, I never ever have problems talking to you face to face. Ever.
So…what to say? I’m glad I know you. I’m glad I’ve never killed you, even when I’ve had the overwhelming urge to. I think it’s a little awkward that the only reason I first met you was because I was hitting on your friend, but it makes a funny story. Not really cute, but funny. You make me smile, even when I’m pissed as hell at you. You make me think and discover new things about myself, even when I resist with ALL my strength. You continue to try to expose me to horrific music that I have absolutely no interest in and you put up with my music with minimal complaints. You try to make me have a clean room. You can out-logic me at any point during the day (a fact that makes me crazy) but you still know when to keep your mouth shut.
Your friends described you as the most honorable. In this day and age, that’s a rare description, and quite honestly, it’s the first thing that convinced me I liked you. Besides the facial hair. You show me what real forgiveness looks like. You’ve only made me cry a lot. You dance with me. You keep my freaking out over almost everything to a minimal level. I really do like that you make me try new things, even when I’m resisting. You listen when I talk even when I don’t want you to. You make me talk about the hard stuff, the embarrassing stuff and the stuff that makes me want to curl up in a little ball and die. And surprisingly, I am getting better at it. Sort of.
I suppose, to be continued,
Megan
It’s the second day after Father’s day and I still find myself in the awkward position of having no words for this Father’s day post/letter/blog thing. I’m not appreciating the writer’s block at all, because normally these things come quickly and naturally to me. I’ve been writing to the people I’ve loved for years and years. Why is it so hard to with you? I honestly don’t know. I get all tongue-tied, as far as writing to you goes and that’s just ridiculous, because as you know, I never ever have problems talking to you face to face. Ever.
So…what to say? I’m glad I know you. I’m glad I’ve never killed you, even when I’ve had the overwhelming urge to. I think it’s a little awkward that the only reason I first met you was because I was hitting on your friend, but it makes a funny story. Not really cute, but funny. You make me smile, even when I’m pissed as hell at you. You make me think and discover new things about myself, even when I resist with ALL my strength. You continue to try to expose me to horrific music that I have absolutely no interest in and you put up with my music with minimal complaints. You try to make me have a clean room. You can out-logic me at any point during the day (a fact that makes me crazy) but you still know when to keep your mouth shut.
Your friends described you as the most honorable. In this day and age, that’s a rare description, and quite honestly, it’s the first thing that convinced me I liked you. Besides the facial hair. You show me what real forgiveness looks like. You’ve only made me cry a lot. You dance with me. You keep my freaking out over almost everything to a minimal level. I really do like that you make me try new things, even when I’m resisting. You listen when I talk even when I don’t want you to. You make me talk about the hard stuff, the embarrassing stuff and the stuff that makes me want to curl up in a little ball and die. And surprisingly, I am getting better at it. Sort of.
I suppose, to be continued,
Megan
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