Archive for the ‘poetry’ Category

Let me apologize in advance as not all my readers will know of my back story and so this post might not make sense all the way.

Today I came across the poem by Kahlil Gibran from The Prophet called “Speak to us of Children”. And I listened as he spoke. And I was inspired.

And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said,
– Speak to us of children!

And he said:
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come trough you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of to-narrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the Archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

And now I find myself in terrifying waters! I just made tentative moves to break the tension between B’s ex and myself, agreeing to a meeting with the 3 of us, with the goal of talking through our issues. This is not because I like her and am secretly missing her (as if!). It’s because I think we will all parent more effectively in a cooperative environment instead of in a conflicting one and I think the kids will ultimately benefit from a united parental front (and so will the parents!). However, I am terrified that all I’ve worked for over the last year or so will just slip through my fingers in the name of ‘playing nice’. And I DO NOT want that to happen. But I also know how I can get. At my heart, I am a people pleaser and I often tend to forget all about my own needs. I then either burn out or grow more and more unconscious in my unhappiness and eventually explode with suppressed anger. Over the last year I have worked really hard to figure out what I want and to stand up for it, in spite of ‘politeness’. And I have really pissed her off in the process. And lived through it (gasp! Imagine that!). I’m scared I will let myself down and just let it all go. And all in the name of ‘co-operation’.

I think I need to write/blog/journal on this some more. Before we meet, I need to have figured out and written down:

  • What I want for myself out of my relationship with her (ie. I don’t want one with her, other than a kid-centric one. I want to be co-parents with her, not her buddy. I want respect for my role in her children’s lives.)
  • What I want for myself out of my relationship with the kids (ie. I do not want to be their Mom. I want to be a loved and respected, influential adult (maybe like a favored aunt) in their lives who can bring my own individual life’s experience to them – formal education, global cultures.)
  • What I want for my family (ie. B and the kids. That I want one. Which cannot happen if she interferes every few hours. She has been really good at this over the last 2 months and I’ve hardly heard a peep from her. I like it like this.)
  • What I want for the kids (ie. safety, stability, security – but most of all LOVE. And to make her understand that sometimes I will fight for it. Even if it means against her.)

I also want to say:

  • That I know and understand what she has given up – full time mothering. And that I know how hard it must be for her to watch another woman care for and love her children. And that I appreciate her life choices, which whilst I do not support them, have allowed me the opportunity to mother and that I realize what a gift that is.

I’m sure there is A LOT more I need to figure out before sitting down with her, but this is a good start.

Here’s the real question in all of this, how do I do this all? Without loosing ground? When I don’t trust her and most likely never will?

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Sometimes, I Cry

Sometimes, I Cry

Great big heart wrenching cries,
shuddering sobs,
rivers of tears.

So great,
it would break a mom’s heart
and a dad want to viciously hunt down the cause.

But there is something you need to know.
Shuuuuuuuush, it is a secret!
Something the average Joe does not know.

My tears are healing! Not harmful!

They release the toxins
which have poisoned and sneakily mutated beauty,
for so many years.
Allowing a new breathe to enter that space,
and a sparkly new growth to build lush ground.

They are not a weakness overcoming me!

It is the core of great inner strength,
which allows me to be so vulnerable
to show my wounds to the cleansing air,
to allow the poison to be washed away.

They are a gift…to be seeked out and celebrated.

Thank you,
to you,
the person who allows me to cry and to heal and to grow.

© Natalie S Gallagher 2008

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Today I finally wrote an about me page…About Me.
Let me know what you think.

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Following on from yesterday’s Scrabble Cheat post, Lorelle’s latest post,  Recovering from a Traffic Spike, really made me think about this whole topic.  She writes very humorously and cleverly about Traffic Spikes, liking them to drug highs.  She then writes about the coping strategies thereof.  One of which is to simply write for your readers and not care about attracting the new, hungry masses.

What do you think?  Why do you write an online blog?  For yourself?  For your readers that you hopefully have?  For someone(s) specific?  For commercial reasons?

For me, I think it’s always been about me and my life.  Not just a blow by blow account of my life though.  More like a creative expression of me.  The Silence of the Snow is typical of work I like to publish online.  A thing of beauty, portraying emotion, using the very clever and intriguing medium of technology.  But the question that’s haunting me is, “Why online?  Why not private?”  Well, therein folks, lies the great mystery.

It started out as a medium of communication to my friends and family spread across the globe.  I soon learned that was only effective for those of my friends and family members who were internet and blog savvy to begin with (and there are sadly very few of those).  I think they would prefer to receive phone calls and email from me.

It then progressed to meeting people of like minds and interests.  For a while this was great, but it soon paled in comparison to having those people in my actual real life.

So what is it now?

After some pondering I think it’s to do with the hope that my friends and family who love me will eventually show their love for me and acknowledge my talent.  Something that has rarely happened.  I find this realization tremendously sad.  For all I know they don’t think I have any talent.  But I continue to create in the hopes that one day they will care enough to look.

Then there is very definitely a soul’s need to express.  The energy has to go somewhere.  Not really sure why, but it has to.  Sometimes I feel like I will burst if I don’t get it out!  Paper is good, but I have too many awesome poems and pieces of expressive writing which have got lost in my many moves.  So the internet seems like as good a place as any for the storage of my soul’s expression.  And yes, I am aware that this is not always failsafe, but that is my next project.

So now I’m wondering, if I changed the fact that I write for myself and my own selfish reasons, and I start writing for my readers instead, how will that change things?  What would my readers like to read about?  And in what format?  Do I even know who my readers really are?

So there we have it…a challenge to you.  Who do you write for (if you write)?  Would you like me to write for you?  What would you like to read?

Thanks for reading 🙂

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The Silence of Snow

Silent Snow

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Today, I am angry. Very angry.

It is red, blood red. It is raw. It is gaping with incoherance.

It festers inside. It oozes out. Sneakily. Wherever it can. Through the unsuspecting.

It’s colour now no longer the truth of blood red, but the slyness of greenish-yellow.

It shrivels up the life.

How long till only charred black remains?

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