RAW

I am wondering if I should plan an entire funeral or is a memorial service more appropriate.   I have lost my 'sparkle', my glow, that swing in my hips that says "I know you're looking, but you know you're not ready".  I miss my sassy, sexy, brassy self.  I miss my inner Mae West, my inner Bettie Page.  They just left, no forwarding address and the phone is disconnected. 

I wanna cry.  I just cannot believe it.  I don't know what to do to convince them to come back and stay.  I miss my sassy self.  I miss that womyn who KNEW that her love was 'the business'.  That womyn who walked into a room with confidence because she knew what she carried with her; good or bad, she had a sense of her worth and didn't feel less than anyone.  Now, don't get me wrong, I know when someone else has something going on to which I cannot hold a candle, and I admire that in others.  I think its wonderful.  My value was not diminished by any one else's light!  I knew that if I fell in love with someone, they were getting a full, beautiful and passionate love. My space was worth being in. I knew that when I went to work at anything, the instruments I needed were finely tuned.

Somewhere along the way, I left those finely tuned instruments out in the rain.  I neglected myself.  I lost something.  Now, I am hesitant paralyzed.  I feel that nothing about me is.....anything special.  I don't feel that anything about me is worth anyone else's time.  I used to be the sexy thick womyn; the one who could blow your mind any way I wanted. Now, I'm just the fat, nerdy broad.

I'm not trying to have a pity party. Just need to get this out.  And since I am the only person reading this, it may make me feel better to just get it out.  I am not the person I was 3-5 years ago.  I know I should change, but it's supposed to be for the better.  Isn't it?

I feel that I have lost everything.  The sexy, sassy, confident, good girl/bad girl I used to be is no longer here.  Believe me, I keep searching.   Should I offer a reward? It would be worth it.  I must have done something to deserve this, but for the life of me I cannot think of anything for which I haven't apologized.

No, I am not as low as I was a few months ago, but I have to keep reminding myself that I am still raw.  There are few, precious few spots that aren't raw.  The healing is long and hard. This is my coldest winter ever.

If anyone finds my inner Mae West and Bettie Page, my Mama-Mojo, please send them home.

Please.

Peace,
 Stormie

The Dark

I hate the dark. 

No, it's not the same as being afraid of the dark.  Though, I am a little afraid of it too (nervous smile).  I breathe a little easier once I reach the lamp.  I am relieved to see everything is as I left it and no one uninvited is waiting.

That is not what I mean here.  I hate being alone in the dark, with nothing to see, hearing nothing, feeling nothing.  I hate the sensory deprivation. 

I am sensual.  I need to see.  The painter in me caresses things with my eyes.  I enjoy following the line of a face, hand, shoulder with my eyes.  By the time I put my hand out to touch, I feel an anticipation and excitement that I cannot explain.  I enjoy calculating the amount of french ultramarine I would need to add to prussian to get the blue of your shirt.  I enjoy feeling skin next to my own.  I like looking at clothing and by being able to hear and see it, knowing what it will feel like.  I like the feel of a warm hand on the small of my back.  I like the warmth it generates up and down my spine.

I like to hear love in my lover's voice.  Sometimes I am less sophisticated and need the love spoken and spelled out. 

Don't get me wrong, I am not selfish.  I like to give as I wish to receive.  I like to wear soft fabrics to make one wonder if it can even compare to my soft skin.  I like to say what feels good to my body, to my heart, what looks good to my eye.  I like to share what makes the sensations I am living in any moment special. I try to make sure that the people I love know that I do and why I do.

Well, I am not completely selfish because I do want it back. 

I like being called baby or honey or something sweet that says I am cherished.   If someone thinks there is something special about me I would love to know it.  It might just make me walk on clouds all week.  The payback is that I will want to do something to make them feel the same way.  I like to be held as one does precious things.

I  love having my face touched and kissed.  I love it.  In all honesty I love being touched and kissed all over. I try my best to give as good as I get.

I love being held or told I was thought about.  I especially like to know I was missed.  I want to be flirted with and romanced.  I want to be loved back.  I am happy to cook, massage, or run a bath and I feel cherished when those things are done for me.

I like to smell the people I love. (Blushing)  I do.  I always sniff my grand daughters and even my daughter, but don't tell her.  It comforts me.  I don't expect that from anyone else, but if there is something about me that brings comfort it would be beautiful to know.

So, sitting in the dark without any input of touch, sight, taste, sound, or smell is literally painful for me.  It literally hurts me.  I do not know how to not touch the people I love.  In my mind no touch is no love.  If love is felt, sometimes it should be spoken.  Life is too short to not have, show, bring, or feel passion, and if you aren't passionate about the one you are with maybe that says all that it should.

This is not somewhere I can stay.
My spirit cannot thrive in the dark.

My Love For You

My body vibrates with love for you.

My eyes dance over you whenever I see you. From your eyes to your lips, and then your hands.

My arms long to hold you close to my body. I want to hold you close enough to smell you and taste you.

My hands cannot rest until I touch you. Your head and face; your arms and hands. You.

My breasts ache for your mouth, your touch.

My legs reach for you in the night. Wanting to wrap around you, keeping you close to me. Keeping you inside me.

When I think of you, my honey begins to flow. I am distracted and hungry to touch, smell, and taste you.

My love for you is real and true. It encompasses every thing. This desire for you is deep and makes me yearn for you every day.

How to Warm Up After a Snow Storm

It seemed that most of the snow storms hit overnight while she was working. This one started while she was driving to work. Now, at six in the morning, she had to rock her car out of the foot of snow that had built up around it.

It was cold out. She was even colder after scraping the snow and ice off the car windows. Her little car slid most of the way home. Alex was patient. The advantage of trying to get home at this time of the morning is knowing that her work day is done and she can relax and try to get home safely. She watched out for everyone else though. They were trying to rush to work, even though there was no safe way to rush with the roads full of this packed snow. She called it cookie dough. It was like cookie dough, the snow on the roads; rough and lumpy enough to make most vehicles slide.

Her usual commute was 20 minutes. Today it took over an hour to get home, and another 15 to make it into the driveway. She parked and made her way into the side door. She left all her snow dampened clothing hanging in the hall. In the kitchen, she started water for tea then went into the living room and turned on the TV. It felt that she'd never thaw out.

She went into the bedroom to change out of her uniform and realized that her lover was still in bed. She looked at the covers crumpled onto her side of the bed, and felt the breeze from the open window. Her love always slept with the window opened. She watched her sleeping peacefully. Her love was usually awake before now. It must have been a restless night. The bed was a testament to it.

As she watched her sleeping. She thought of all the times she wanted to come home to someone. She thought of all the laughter they shared, the dinners they ate, their long conversations and even their quiet moments. She thought of all they shared and how she could not imagine her life without her. With each warm thought, her body thawed.

She went back downstairs and turned off the TV and the kettle. Upstairs in their room, she laid down behind her love, kissed her shoulder and held her tight. She couldn't remember ever feeling this warm before.

This Is Not Lust

New Poem, your feedback welcome...

This is not lust
Wanting to taste, feel, please
Every inch of you.
It is not simply carnal
The desire to tease and be teased
As much as I want to love and be loved.

This is about love
The kind that makes me
Run you a bath,
Learn to cook your favorites,
Sleep in your pajamas.
I want to love and be loved
Until you can feel my heart
Through my fingers, my tongue, my lips.
No, Baby, this could never be as simple as lust.

Smoke Signals

I would love some feedback.

Smoke Signals

Like Tantalus, I will my limbs to yield
With my bending to drink my fill;
With my stretching to taste your fruit.
Water up to my chest, yet drowning in this desire.

A fleeting glance and my heart swells
With hunger; and your voice whets my appetite;
With desire as your spirit sends smoke signals to mine.
Your vision ingrained, I hunger for your touch.

Like a wildfire, with you for air
Only an ocean would make me yield;
Only a tornado could quiet this flame.
Fully consumed, this body burns for you.

Like tender flint, under your hand
Gentle touches spark rousing flames;
Confident strokes ignite these walls.
You have set this house ablaze.

Barely a spark, here in the dark
My heart led here, a moth to your flame;
Your soul led to me, an ancient spirit quest fulfilled.
These smoke signals forever calling me to you.

kda,2002

Weather Forecast

Weather Forecast for NE Ohio tonight.
Tonight: Occasional rain. Low 46F. Winds SSE at 10 to 20 mph. Chance of rain 70%.


Storm's Forecast
Tonight: Occasional blushing with a 100% chance of happiness. Plentiful clouds for floating.


I love.

She loves.

Renewed, almost.

The past few months have probably been the most trying time in my life.


Everything spiralled out of control and I found myself standing by myself. I felt so small and worthless. I felt so completely alone. There was no one to be found, but I had tons of strings attached to me. There were strings leading to small things: the cat, the lawn, the vacuum cleaner, a broken window...just stuff.

Then there was this one huge rope, that could be used to anchor a ship. Now this rope began with my daughter, except she was nowhere to be found. This rope had so many things attached to it that I thought I would suffocate with all of the knots and just the sheer volume of it. I heard a noise, I had missed something and had to find what it was. As I got closer, I heard crying, it was my granddaughter. I picked her up, fed her, put her on my back and continued on.

I found one rope that had nothing attached to the end; that one was left behind by the lover who promised love, but tried to break my spirit because she did not understand how I could love and not ask for something in return.


During this unraveling I got tired, lost sleep, went through a period of denial, went through a period of anger. I wanted to cry but was just too damned tired.

I kept finding so many ropes with nothing and no one on the ends. My sister, aunt...gone. Wow, did I do something?


At one point one of the ropes pulled me, it was my best friend. She tried to help navigate, but there was only enough room for me, so she offered encouragement, advice and support. I thanked God for her, then I put her in my pocket for safe keeping.



Now, I have piles of things to get to and organize but I have gotten some things accomplished. I am still exhausted but I feel better.

Finally I had a revelation that although it is not clean, simple, or neat...I am able to look around and see exactly who and what I can rely upon.

At first I was crushed. What did I do? Why is everyone mad at me? What happened? But the more I cleared things away and looked at things I saw that it wasn't me. I was just the one left standing after the mess was left behind.


It has taken so long to get my head up. It has taken months for me to realize that stuff happens to people and it does not define who they are. What matters is what I do with it, and how I handle it. What matters is how I 'wear' it.

It took me a minute to get back to the point where I can sit across a table and look someone in their eyes and know that I am flawed but not devalued. I am worthy. I am no less a good woman. I am no less funny, articulate, creative, sexy, honest...I was no less anything. I am not defined by my circumstances. I am worth knowing. I am worth the time it takes to stop and take a closer look.




My neighbor has these flowers in his yard every year. Nasturtium, the flower is usually under the big flat leaves. The flower tastes peppery, like a radish. He explained this 3 years ago when I moved in, but I don't like radishes so I kept moving through their paradise. Last year I finally pulled one of the flowers off and ate it. It was delicious, better tasting than a radish and very appealing on a salad.

I am like that flower. I am not the prettiest, but by far the tastiest surprise for someone willing to take the time.

This is not a bad place to be.

My Sweetest

How could I not smile?

Simple Delights

Relationships

I had lunch and coffee with my friend and ex-partner today. We talked for hours about everything under the sun. I am happy that we have come to the point where we can be friends. It was not easy. We loved each other, that was never the problem, but that does not mean that two people are suited for each other. We were not.

During the break up, I would ask her if she thought we would be friends down the line and she gave me an absolute and resounding no. I am glad today that she was wrong. I cherish her friendship. I am proud of where she is in her life. I cheer her triumphs. It is an amazing place to be, given where we were some years ago. We were together nearly 8 years (7 years and 10 months). I could not imagine walking away from her and never having contact with her again. I could not imagine us not being able to have a conversation. I am so glad that we have gotten here.

It was not easy or instantaneous. It took years. It took time, space, and mutual respect. I am always amazed at people who have a break-up and then, in the space of a month or two, are "friends". I mean some relationships can be this way, but often you need a period of time where the person is out of your life for a little while. You need to get your bearings and be ok.

There has been enough space and time for us to get past the drama. Neither of us are romantically interested in the other. We wish each other happiness and fulfillment. I know that my ex-partner would never disrespect my relationship; she knows the same goes for me.

I was dating someone who, I felt, was playing a game with her ex (who still had feelings for her). She would never answer the questions I had about that relationship. I have enough experience to know that what we cherish, we protect. She did not seem to think my concerns deserved a real, grown-up, honest discussion. The lesson for me was that whether there was something going on or not, I deserved to be respected enough for her to sit down and have the conversation with me.

I don't want games. I want someone who is able to be real with me like I am real with them. I want someone who can call me on my shit, and expects the same of me. I want a woman, who despite any labels, knows that we are both womyn. The point of dating is to get to know someone and allow them to get to know you. This allows us to figure out if we want to continue with a more serious relationship or not. How can you start a relationship without being real about who you really are and how you feel? Even if it is new to you, if you are faced with something different and it's clear that the games are not working, why not try something different.

Now I am ready to move on. I am praying that I can find someone real. I am praying that I can find my forever love. Someone not phased by my sarcasm, and who appreciates that I have no preconceived notion of who she is. I want someone who has a big heart, who is emotionally mature. I want for someone who will stand beside me like I stand beside her. I want someone who is affectionate. I want someone who understands that I like my space sometimes. I want someone who will love me curves and all; warts and all. I want a grown-up, sexy, intelligent, funny, relaxed, honest, forgiving, healthy, beautiful love.

What is romantic?

I should have done this before Valentine's Day, but maybe this past month will provide some really juicy answers.

What is romantic?

I fear that I may not be romantic.

Isn't it possible to be romantic at home? Or is it?

If I love gerbera daisies, irises and lilies more than red roses, is there something wrong with that? Lilies are breath-taking and daisies make me happy.

I always feel silly when faced with the expectation of romance. I get that REALLY big question mark bubble over my head.


And all I can think is Yikes, I'm in trouble. It isn't that I don't care or that I don't want to do the work. I am just clueless. I have very simple needs to keep me very happy.

I mean, maybe I am just too easy. I love coffee, books, trees, nature, flowers. So, a pound of coffee from one of my favorite coffee shops, a favorite author, and dinner-out, would be a lovely evening for me.

Boring?

What is most important to me is spending time together. I love having 'face time', catching up, laughing together, eye contact, and an uninterrupted conversation about nothing in particular. I need that time to connect and just be. I don't need to be entertained or impressed; I am impressed by getting a glimpse at the inside of my love, not by things. The important part is the interaction and the time together.

I mean, to me romantic is a quiet dinner, a glass of excellent wine, a walk on the beach (but this is Cleveland and there is none of that this time of year, unless you travel), great music (I would request Lizz Wright, Cassandra Wilson, and Miles Davis to start), and then nothing. Nothing but the two of us and time.

Am I missing the point? What is romantic?