Tuesday, January 13, 2015

Eila Algood- Six Poems

Suddenly

An airplane crashed into the far end of the house
Screaming for my children, I ran.
We escaped, unharmed.

Suddenly, the house rolled down the hill,
Landing upright.

That dream would prove to be prophetic,
Not literally, but symbolically
The moment I learned my husband
Had me followed by a private detective.

Photographing and recording my every move
Created an unsafe feeling for me in my home.
I had to get out; would take my children too.
Found a little house in town, and landed upright.

Physically I was fine, but
Mentally panic stricken and
Emotionally terrorized.
The wounds were invisible to the naked eye.
Even mine.

The leaving was abrupt
An emotional tornado swept me away
Hurricane force mental winds
Pushed me out the door, abruptly.

I found refuge in her arms
A safe haven to heal
In between trips back into the storm
For my children, again and again.

The gale force winds
Shredded my heart and
Tested my mind
But never did they reach my soul

I focused to thread the needle
Sewing together the pieces of my heart
Mending gently,
Stitch by stitch
The enormous tapestry

Shapes, designs, colors and textures
Body, mind, spirit and emotion

Completely whole in the broken pieces
I lived imperfectly
With mistakes and misgivings
Failure and despair,
Not knowing the outcome.

Once the hurricane passed;
            The tornado disbanded
                        The winds ceased to roar
The air was calm and peaceful
And I felt grateful to have survived.

On the other side of catastrophic conditions
As the clean up takes place and
Healing begins

Is the success of being alive.


Hormonal Perspective

Read
Slowly
Methodically
Rhythmically

There are no words
To describe the being
Who infuriates
At a moment’s notice

There is no name
To explain adversarial anger
Imploding
Then exploding

Identify, identity
Label and explain all you want
None of it
Am I

Erotic or neurotic
The experiences are fleeting
Systematic or charismatic
It is not who I am

Remove the need to know
Accept without understanding
Breath to live
Love to exist


Ancestors

What can I:
Say that has not been said
            Do that has not been done
            Be that has not been
You are all:
Behind me
            Inside me
Above me
            Beside me
My mother
            My aunts
                        My sisters
All who have walked this walk
            Talked this talk
I follow in your footsteps
            Follow your example
Honor the divine within
            Honor the divine around
How can I honor:
            Your lives
                        Your sacrifices
                                    Your choices
So that I can live
            Here
            Now
What can I say that has not been said?
            I can thank you
            Express my gratitude
            Through a life of truth
            A life of love
            An honest and kind life

What can I do that has not been done?
            I can forgive myself
            And release the judgments
            Through a life of truth
            A life of love
            An honest and kind life
What can I be that has not been before?
            I can be all of me
            And all of you
            Through a life of truth
            A life of love
            An honest and kind life
You, my parents,
My grandparents,
My ancestors
You gave me this life
            I accept it
            Embrace it
And will do my best to
            Fulfill my destiny
In your honor
            With gratitude
            And endless love


Pele in the Piko

The temperature rises
Rapidly, like a flame from
Moderate to extraordinary
It feels like Pele is in the piko
Of the body I inhabit
As skin becomes warm and moist
Sweat beads form on brow
Covers thrown off from bed
I’m reminded of stories
Women in menopause
Witnessed it on others
Amazed by it’s strength
I’m surprised by its speed
“Take some herbs” she suggested
To cool the heat emanating from within
No cooling for me
This is powerful
Heat is being generated without effort
A human furnace erupts
With each hot flash
I embrace the heat and
I like the power
No need to squelch nature from happening
Best to honor and celebrate
Pele in the piko
Boils away the old me
Providing a purified reduction
As the next phase of life unfolds

(In Hawaii, Pele is the fire goddess and pico is the Hawaiian word for navel)



Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day has come and gone.
A day, created by a grieving daughter in 1905,
Capitalized on by a greeting card company
to sell cards and increase profits.

What odd propulsion to popularize
such a valuable position in humanity.
Honoring through commercialization
is reverence, nevertheless.

Although not every person is a mother,
Each of us has a mother.
Why not honor the person who brought us into physicality?

There are mothers who are unable
or unwilling to raise their child.
While others embrace the task
regardless of the biology of the child.

The quality of mothering is quite subjective.

Mom, you were often depressed when I was a child.
Sleeping on the couch in the afternoon,
kitty tucked close to your chest.
When awake, you were somber.
If there was a sign above your head
It would have read
Bother Me Not!
And I obliged.
I did as I was told and
what I thought would make you happy.
Or if not happy,
at least not mad or annoyed,
because if you were happy then I could relax.

I read the energy of your moods,
the expressions on your face,
and the movement of your body.
Verbal language was not required for me to know how you felt.


I wanted to make you proud
but I never knew you were
until years after you died.
My friend told me how you boasted
on my behalf.

Your depression and neediness
pushed me into my own life.
I sought happier people.


Then came time for me to be a mother
and I came back to you and
you to me,
As cancer grew in your body.

In response, you rose up tall
Embraced life with strength,
courage and humor.
Owning your health.
Proactive in your healing process.

Nearly thirty years after your death
my awareness of you continues to grow.
Such grace I witnessed in how you coped.

Those last years of your life
provided me with a lifetime of learning.
Modeling characteristics,
which I strive to exhibit.

As I soar in bold life choices,
it’s with gratitude and
humble knowing that
You carried me in your womb,
Taught me who to be
With your courage, natural healing decisions and positivity
when faced with cancer;
Or not to be
With your depression, unhealthy food choices and negativity
            during my childhood.

I focus now on the constructive characteristics you modeled:
Meditation, alternative healing and healthy eating.
Incorporating them into my daily life and offering
my daughter and son a gracious dose
of positivity. 

Your illustrations
help me to value life
In the reflection of your death

I love you and
honor you daily.
In my heart where
Mother’s Day is ever present.


FED UP

Fed up and exasperated, I’ve plain just had it
With the person I become
When a man is irritated, aggravated or angry.

Sugar and spice and everything nice,
That’s what girls are supposed to be.
That’s the bullshit I was taught.

Smooth it over, use sweet talk and tenderness;
“I’ll take care of it, it’ll be okay”
 “Get over yourself”, is what I want to say.

How many times I’ve stroked a man’s ego,
Gently, softly, tenderly, carefully
So as not to ruffle that rooster’s feathers.

Where did it get me?
Ignored and abhorred.
Respected?  No, rather rejected.

It’s time to teach something better;
Honesty and straightforward communication,
Not open to interpretation.

Leave off the butter cream frosting.
Don’t allow him to bully, berate or intimidate.
Stand up for what is your truth.

Fearless but not careless in the delivery,
Women and girls, let’s rule the world?
Better yet, let’s rule ourselves.