Poetry
Following is a trilogy of 3 poems from an eventful day in June, 2011.
‘HOLY MISERY'
(8:00 AM on a day in June)
You are disgusting.
You are fat and getting fatter.
I loathe you, head to heel!
Every time you eat that terrible thing
I punish you with soul murdering thoughts.
Then I eat another food that’s been off
my ‘acceptable foods list’ for decades.
Then I rape you with more painful refrains
which bring me to my knees.
And, this goes on and on…
I don’t know how long this time, months maybe…
After years of meditating daily on “tenderness”,
I stopped abruptly.
Self-loathing broke the back of my tenderness time…
I pine for tenderness but I can’t seem to get her back.
Is it possible that I’m thinking that this overeating,
self-abusing spell will play itself out, that it will
lead me back to tenderness?
Maybe…
Maybe when I am completely filleted/
cut open down the center,
my soul will open its arms to this one I’ve beat to a pulp
and thrown off the cliffs
and say “Hey, you, angry loathing part of me,
it's time to come home.
I’m so sorry and I love you.”
I AM isn’t interested in fat or thin, rich or poor, good or bad
I AM says , come sit on my lap with all your broken places…
WHEN YOU SHARE YOUR MISERY,
OUR HOLY COMPANIONSHIP
IS RESTORED!
Patricia Flasch
And then I banged my Head
(10:00 AM just after writing “Holy Misery”)
Got up off the couch
Walked into the kitchen
To wipe a stain off the floor
Banged my head on the point of the wooden countertop
Saw stars
Fell to the ground
Reached for a bag of ice
Lied there stunned, but open hearted
No judgment
Just an abiding awareness that this is what it feels like
When I smack myself with hateful hurtful thoughts
Holding the ice on my forehead
Speaking sweetly to myself
I note my hand and face and shirt are covered in blood
I ask the husband for help
Go to urgent care
Get stiches
Notice pounding head and deep gratitude
This was a close call
Now, how do I want to live my one quirky and passionate life today?
Patricia Flasch
And, Then the Dog Died
(9:00 PM the same day)
I was walking around the block
with our yellow lab, Rosie, about a week ago.
It had been upper 90’s temperature here in New Mexico.
She hadn’t been wanting to play ball for a few days.
Rosie was uttlerly passionate about ball toss
and every single day of her life was marked
by how much time she got to chase the ball…
We got to the wooden bench on the side of our property,
and she collapsed and began panting.
About a week prior we’d had the same experience
and I massaged and comforted her
and fed her chicken soup
until she calmed down and could get to sleep.
I had a premonition that night,
“perhaps she’s dying.”
Tonight, as she lay panting,
her legs splayed out and her eyes rolled.
I lay down next to her on the sidewalk,
her back to my belly…
I stroked her and told her she was a sweet dog
and that if it was her time, she was free to go.
I sang her some lullabies.
The neighbor man drove by in his big white truck
and hopped out to help.
He held her, too, and he said his beloved dog
had died a few years back in his arms.
He said his dog’s name was ‘The Fifth Dimension’
He called her FITS…
The husband was getting blankets and phoning the ER.
The neighbor lifted Rosie’s heavy body
into the back of our station wagon.
The ER was only 3 blocks away.
She died a few moments later.
Her death was sweet and sudden.
I grieve for her body.
I miss her body.
I celebrate the freedom of her soul.
I can feel us both resting in the arms of a loving universe.
So many people have expressed their love and tenderness.
My heart is full…
The next night as we walked around the block,
a long haired grey and white cat
with a gold bell around its neck
followed us all the way home, bell tinkling.
‘Strange’ we thought.
This was a cat Rosie loved to chase.
I sat down on a rock close to my house
and the cat leaped into my lap and began purring.
She didn’t stop for twenty minutes.
Perhaps this was a sign from Rosie:
“I’m content.” “I’m home now.”
Patricia Flasch
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