tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80140414626400118802024-02-07T00:16:02.901-05:00the weight of the wordsThe NotsoSuperMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129738899318944441noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8014041462640011880.post-85332225474186333802015-10-08T15:02:00.001-04:002015-10-08T15:17:31.291-04:00Sometimes you just can't say it better than Sting....<span style="font-size: large;">Fortress Around Your Heart</span><br />
<div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: #707070; font-family: Roboto, arial, 'Noto Sans Japanese', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 25px; padding-bottom: 10px;">
Under the ruins of a walled city<br />
Crumbling towers in beams of yellow light<br />
No flags of truce, no cries of pity<br />
The siege guns had been pounding through the night<br />
It took a day to build the city<br />
We walked through it's streets in the afternoon<br />
As I returned across the fields I'd known<br />
I recognised the walls that I once made<br />
I had to stop in my tracks for fear<br />
Of walking on the mines I'd laid</div>
<div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: #707070; font-family: Roboto, arial, 'Noto Sans Japanese', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 25px; padding-bottom: 10px;">
And if I've built this fortress around your heart<br />
Encircled you in trenches and barbed wire<br />
Then let me build a bridge<br />
For I cannot fill the chasm<br />
And let me set the battlements on fire</div>
<div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: #707070; font-family: Roboto, arial, 'Noto Sans Japanese', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 25px; padding-bottom: 10px;">
Then I went off to fight some battle<br />
That I'd invented inside my head<br />
Away so long for years and years<br />
You probably thought, or even wished that I was dead<br />
While the armies all are sleeping<br />
Beneath the tattered flag we'd made<br />
I had to stop in my tracks for fear<br />
Of walking on the mines I'd laid</div>
<div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: #707070; font-family: Roboto, arial, 'Noto Sans Japanese', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 25px; padding-bottom: 10px;">
And if I've built this fortress around your heart<br />
Encircled you in trenches and barbed wire<br />
Then let me build a bridge<br />
For I cannot fill the chasm<br />
And let me set the battlements on fire</div>
<div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: #707070; font-family: Roboto, arial, 'Noto Sans Japanese', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 25px; padding-bottom: 10px;">
This prison has now become your home<br />
A sentence you seem prepared to pay<br />
It took a day to build the city<br />
We walked through it's streets in the afternoon<br />
As I returned across the lands I'd known<br />
I recognised the fields where I'd once played<br />
I had to stop in my tracks for fear<br />
Of walking on the mines I'd laid</div>
<div style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: #707070; font-family: Roboto, arial, 'Noto Sans Japanese', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 25px; padding-bottom: 10px;">
And if I've built this fortress around your heart<br />
Encircled you in trenches and barbed wire<br />
Then let me build a bridge<br />
For I cannot fill the chasm<br />
And let me set the battlements on fire</div>
The NotsoSuperMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129738899318944441noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8014041462640011880.post-1512963889107600882015-06-25T13:47:00.000-04:002015-06-25T13:47:50.890-04:00Love Lesson<h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name" style="background-color: #141414; color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 22px; margin: 0px; position: relative;">
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">I feel you move, I watch you breathe</span></h3>
<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-253915547472074049" itemprop="description articleBody" style="background-color: #141414; color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px; position: relative; width: 586px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">The tangible helps me believe</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">You cannot prove, what you don't feel</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">You cannot say this is not real</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">So much to do, so much to say</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">'Cause I can't let you get away</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Unwittingly, I succumb</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">The power of one less in love</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">You could lie, you could cheat</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">My foolish heart is my defeat</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I think I see, but I am blind</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Lessons learned do not remind</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">You cannot do, you cannot say</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">You cannot make me go away</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Impossible to overcome</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">The power of one less in love</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I keep myself within your grip</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I bought my ticket for this trip</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">The knowing does not help me say</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I am through with the charade</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Impossible to overcome</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">The power of one less in love</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
The NotsoSuperMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129738899318944441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8014041462640011880.post-65454489081167699722015-06-18T11:53:00.003-04:002015-06-18T11:53:38.830-04:00this is not a hipster poemthe struggle was real - and truer words never cliched.<br />
<br />
who would have guessed? a hacker by nature<br />
a truth seeker<br />
a wannabe healer<br />
the weapon of choice is information.<br />
<br />
wading through deception, lies, hypocrisy--like an ocean of quicksand. it is impossible to swim when they just keep pushing you under.<br />
<br />
the truth doesn't hurt, the truth sets us free.<br />
(except, apparently, from the cliches)<br />
what hurts are lies. and self-imposed blindness.<br />
who would hide their own truth? only someone who will never know it's freedom.<br />
only someone shackled by denial.<br />
<br />
ninja? she is stealthy. strange that someone who operates in darkness is a quiet crusader for light.<br />
(the thing about ninjas is they don't live in the dark. they just work there.)<br />
make no mistake: there is light in her words. there is always light in the truth--even if it's not your truth. but let's face it, it is. at least in part.<br />
<br />
hooker? I believe that's just a ruse.<br />
confidence is sexy.<br />
<br />
the spy speaks for herself. always one eye on the prize, and the other on the door. for some, work is a prison. for the spy, work is a neverending well and wealth of material.<br />
<br />
she is confident, but not self-important.<br />
she is righteous, but not self-righteous.<br />
she is beautiful, but not vain.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://aussalorens.com/">hacker.</a><br />
<a href="http://aussalorens.com/">ninja.</a><br />
<a href="http://aussalorens.com/">hooker.</a><br />
<a href="http://aussalorens.com/">spy.</a>The NotsoSuperMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129738899318944441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8014041462640011880.post-72059877075370738722015-06-10T10:19:00.001-04:002015-06-10T10:19:10.282-04:00misery loathes companyshe wears it like a badge<br />
<br />
not proud, but defiant.<br />
in the face of her martyrdom.<br />
<br />
she is slighted, she is put upon.<br />
she bears the shoulder, missing a chip.<br />
<br />
this is her legacy, but she wouldn't tell you it's so. <br />
she would claim otherwise, but for<br />
<br />
the actions<br />
the words<br />
<br />
who screams louder?<br />
<br />
it is consuming, this beast.<br />
it lives and it lurks and it is loathe to let go.<br />
it overshadows all else.<br />
<br />
there is love, but it, too, is exhausting<br />
and it struggles to breathe, and in<br />
all the toil and all the tired and all you see<br />
<br />
is the misery.<br />
<br />The NotsoSuperMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129738899318944441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8014041462640011880.post-91259796894943612752015-05-25T09:54:00.001-04:002015-05-25T09:54:36.119-04:00asking for a friend<p dir="ltr">bouquet of bruises <br>
burning<br>
like a secret<br>
through her skin </p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8TIWrbJw21SjVvtva0TEYjMrB62C_-h2Io4WT8602BSuOlFwEKPNdLcEhbtc_T0tG-DaRNNNO3jYQst6pawBnNiC5Tax4WYa_CAxeHO97-3IR-93Lf6kjK8-fNvdI9BJ4RxQndO-ig0k/s1600/20150525_094637.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8TIWrbJw21SjVvtva0TEYjMrB62C_-h2Io4WT8602BSuOlFwEKPNdLcEhbtc_T0tG-DaRNNNO3jYQst6pawBnNiC5Tax4WYa_CAxeHO97-3IR-93Lf6kjK8-fNvdI9BJ4RxQndO-ig0k/s640/20150525_094637.jpg"> </a> </div>The NotsoSuperMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129738899318944441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8014041462640011880.post-79129351628571711432015-05-08T21:34:00.000-04:002015-05-08T22:08:19.353-04:00sleeping awakei sit<br />
to write<br />
<br />
and nothing comes.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNQ7wfY5_P7K6z_11KxZltOvk4_ExCIgEZQj-fGtfwKAnKusD-eEK7tsr1CL4uNsgIwGpk1eDPS4mZZz0Hfax9FGGyTUJiPIIo8Ckf5i3_SrfLTSJVPRwCoWj4xOx2OmNYlgbDLeb1clc/s1600/file6151303951841a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="128" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNQ7wfY5_P7K6z_11KxZltOvk4_ExCIgEZQj-fGtfwKAnKusD-eEK7tsr1CL4uNsgIwGpk1eDPS4mZZz0Hfax9FGGyTUJiPIIo8Ckf5i3_SrfLTSJVPRwCoWj4xOx2OmNYlgbDLeb1clc/s200/file6151303951841a.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
it is a wakeful sleep.<br />
<br />
too tired to sleep. too tired to<br />
<br />
wade through the mire of<br />
the day's thoughts.<br />
<br />
so alive. fresh. full of possibility.<br />
twelve<br />
hours<br />
ago.<br />
<br />
now they sleep somewhere in my brain.<br />
<br />
wandering. somnambulating.<br />
<br />
they have wandered somewhere<br />
<br />
not to be found.<br />
<br />
and the sleep comes heavy.<br />
<br />
my eyes.<br />
my brain.<br />
<br />
the peace of it is alluring.<br />
but these walking words, these ideas, these thoughts<br />
<br />
know<br />
no<br />
real<br />
rest.The NotsoSuperMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129738899318944441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8014041462640011880.post-51444687447710783322015-04-10T22:06:00.002-04:002015-05-08T23:41:20.957-04:00swaythere are things that pull<br />
<br />
pull<br />
<br />
pull you in different directions.<br />
<br />
sway your body. sway your mind. sway your heart.<br />
<br />
and you are left in a kind of limbo. anchored by<br />
<br />
a knowledge<br />
a need<br />
a conviction<br />
<br />
but sometimes with a whim. a want. a desire.<br />
<br />
to<br />
<br />
b<br />
e<br />
n<br />
d.<br />
<br />The NotsoSuperMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129738899318944441noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8014041462640011880.post-79072327064861570302015-01-26T23:51:00.005-05:002015-01-26T23:53:17.503-05:00mining<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.9999942779541px;">You mine your mind</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.9999942779541px;">For something that feels like </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.9999942779541px;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.9999942779541px;">Inspiration. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.9999942779541px;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.9999942779541px;">Impulse. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.9999942779541px;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.9999942779541px;">Imperative. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.9999942779541px;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.9999942779541px;">I must. I must. I must. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.9999942779541px;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.9999942779541px;">But instead, I must do this and that and kids and laundry and time. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.9999942779541px;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.9999942779541px;">No time. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.9999942779541px;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.9999942779541px;">This is my time. This.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.9999942779541px;">This is what keeps me sane, somewhere in the day when I am talking to myself, thinking and writing (and forgetting)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.9999942779541px;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.9999942779541px;">Forget me, forget what I said, forget those pieces that float away..... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.9999942779541px;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.9999942779541px;">on a breeze, on a phone call interrupting, on a derailed train of thought. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.9999942779541px;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.9999942779541px;">With no survivors.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'Droid Sans', sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.9999942779541px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'Droid Sans', sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.9999942779541px;"><br /></span>The NotsoSuperMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129738899318944441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8014041462640011880.post-42181282158783749352014-11-23T22:21:00.001-05:002014-11-23T22:21:16.295-05:00deflatedit is the same every time.<br />
<br />
<br />
in the beginning......<br />
<br />
inhale.<br />
there is interest, and novelty.<br />
there is a passion for the energy, a thirst for character, your character.<br />
there is wonder and imagination<br />
<br />
and the middle....<br />
<br />
the middle is filled with hard work, gulping vast quantities of time and sweat.<br />
there are words and songs<br />
there is movement, sometimes dancing<br />
there is dedication<br />
<br />
and the end,<br />
<br />
denouement.<br />
the climax of applause.<br />
there is appreciation, sometimes flowers.<br />
there is release, and respite.<br />
and there is sadness.<br />
<br />
it is over.<br />
curtain closes<br />
the applause dies.<br />
you go home.<br />
<br />
exhale.The NotsoSuperMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129738899318944441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8014041462640011880.post-88981393065245216042014-10-07T22:01:00.000-04:002014-10-07T22:01:46.522-04:00cocoon<div class="Publishwithline">
her grief was something like a blanket of nothing.</div>
<div class="Publishwithline">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
it didn't keep her warm.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
but it prevented her from reaching out to anyone and kept
her insulated from the </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>stumbling,
misguided condolence of others.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
the memories were warm.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>but
painful.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
the nothing was comforting in it's nothingness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>it had no expectations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>it bred no weight.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
it was a safe void in which to exist, in which to incubate.
until she could survive </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>outside
of it. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<w:sdt contentlocked="t" id="89512093" sdtgroup="t"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 1.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><w:sdtpr></w:sdtpr><w:sdt docpart="84EEB249D7384878B1DA19A0184B192A" id="89512082" storeitemid="X_8193EA19-6D69-4A0B-AEFC-14B585C49F0C" text="t" title="Post Title" xpath="/ns0:BlogPostInfo/ns0:PostTitle"></w:sdt></span>
</w:sdt>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
a gross, tragic metamorphosis. a mother who has lost her child.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
The NotsoSuperMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129738899318944441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8014041462640011880.post-6976635344281083852014-10-04T23:41:00.003-04:002014-10-07T22:01:59.195-04:00Novemberit was cold last November.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
stormy and rage-filled. all the weather.</div>
<div>
all the time.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
things were <a href="http://iwonttellifyouwonttell.blogspot.com/2013/11/broken.html">broken</a>. and lost.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
and I am still a bit broken and a little lost.</div>
<div>
and it is sometimes difficult to remember.<br />
not because it is not there, but because I wish it wasn't.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
now it feels so far away, </div>
<div>
but November is coming again.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
anew.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
The NotsoSuperMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129738899318944441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8014041462640011880.post-54012316938941295062014-07-02T23:07:00.001-04:002014-10-07T22:02:18.041-04:00here and thereeven before the first conversation,<br />
something.<br />
a kind of gracefulness. he was graceful.<br />
<div>
and I couldn't stop watching him.<br />
<br />
he was easy and comfortable there.<br />
much more so than I.<br />
and that was it: attraction.<br />
<br />
there was something there.<br />
a good laugh for my part, a witty remark on his.<br />
and I came back again and again.<br />
<br />
and sometimes there is still a good laugh.<br />
between the wondering how I am still here.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
The NotsoSuperMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129738899318944441noreply@blogger.com0