I want to know why I am always played the fool.
I believe with a stupid smile
anything that is said
so that peace can reign again
I do not want to be the person that doubts
I don't want to be the joke
So I sit and pray for wisdom to deal with ailing friends
believe or doubt
strength

Untitled

Ironic it is that as I proclaim sister
after sister
of judging
and breaking
I sit there on my writers throne doing just the same?
Judging
breaking
shame on me

heres' a poem for me
I have sat in the same judgment seat as my sisters
my sisters' are all a part of me
we all have breathed the same air of discontentment
we have all lived with the same people
growing up with the same thick air
sometimes you could slice with a knife
sometimes as soft as butter
and as light as air
the distant sound of 'grown up talk'
laughter as we all went to our own private dreamland
the distant smell of dark bitter wine
so comfortable
the world we knew
and so different from the world then
the little ones knew
when the air stayed thick and never lightened
the bitter grew out of the wine and into the very
being of our parents
and wine stayed dark and red
bitter and loud
and happy times were less and less
often
until in Barbara's time
they disappeared altogether
I always wondered what kind of world we were bringing the last two up in
where there was never light laughter and bitter wine
in the night
but the very air was bitter and nothing was light
I worried about those younger ones
without parents' to weave thier pasts together
they seemed like orphans
and perhaps they grew up as such
it certainly explains their present
the anger they both seem to harbor unrelentlessly
I do not feel they hold at me
I was just a child too
after the bitter wine won

Melissa
sweet Melissa
sweet venomous Mel
I love you even when your biting
we've been competitive
even though you haven't known it
I have hid this
since we were children
my competitive streak
always wanting to do you one better
always watching you do me one better
your competive streak is dangerous
while mine is secret
you hurt me my big sister
my only sister that is older then me; if only by a couple years
in your need to be better you crunched me down
your bigness
swallowed me whole
and I couldn't find myself
my sister that's older
I still look to you
when the going gets rough
I watch to see what way you'll go
how you will react
your my secret longing
even though you fell off
of the pedestal
long ago

I write of the first two often
but our story is so complicated
your the middle one
and like the youngest two
you believe strongly
and you can't see past
your strong beliefs
even when you might lose friends
you still secretly believe you were right all along
and your tongue can lash the most painful of wounds
yet I love you
you keep yourself out there
in this world
something that I can never/could never do
like Ellicia I tend to isolate myself and hide just a little
but I watch you
and in watching you; I live
your love is phenomenal
your utter disregard for others' feelings formidable
it is okay to break something apart if you love it
you believe this with all your heart
and it's okay to lose your temper
it's okay to open your mouth and insert foot
and perhaps your right
because your in it
you live your life
and you are honest
to a fault
and I can never ever cease to be amazed by you
although Barbara was my childhood favorite;
she who was lost by the thunderstorm we know as Clint
your my adult favorite
I adore you

ellicia; the kind one
but are you really?
you there in your sea of knowledge
don't you think we know this knowledge?
we see you eating from this tree
but knowledge is nothing
without wisdom
and wisdom is nothing
without Jehovah
so you plan
the perfect birth
the candles and music
the most pefect way to enter this dismal world
just you and your husband welcoming this new infant
how romantic
how perfect
and researched yes
I acknowledge this
if research is reading romantic stories and not searching
for the contigencies
sweetie, there are always contingencies
thats life
the pefect birth
your perfect plan so easily can turn on your
and life is so fragile
so beautiful; yet so fragile
so impossibly imperfect
a tear that can not be stopped
a newborn baby not breathing
oh to not fear these dreadful things
what arrogance to believe they can't happen
not to you
not to your perfect birth
Murphy's Law always applies
you can not isolate yourself away from this
whatever can happen; will happen
you can not isolate yourself away from the truth
you can not live in this paradise you have made for yourself
however so sweet and optimistic
I love you for your dreams
but I can not support you in your risk taking
not when there is a baby involved
A baby
doesnt' care what her birth story is
a baby only wants to be alive
a perfect birth
is only perfect to the mother
like a wedding that is looked upon for years
and years
the most perfect day in the world
the young girl dreams
and the day comes
but doesn't matter
what matters is the days that follow
the decades of living with the same person
wanting to live and love, die and hate
so it is with the perfect birth
it doesnt' matter
what matters are the days, weeks, months, years that follow
decades of loving a person
who in the end; barely thinks of you
look at y ou, look at barbara
tell me that I do not know what I am talking about
your perfect birth
your being selfish
and worrying your family
unnecessarily
I don't know if this time
you can be forgiven
your baby only asks to be loved