Maddening Intensity of Calm and Ease

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I leave the car slowly and
I see you, it’s you… and I feel butterflies
I feel a sense of anticipation.
We embrace and we walk towards the restaurant
I feel each step as I walk next to you
It feels natural, like we’ve walked together before
Except we haven’t
We smile and walk up to the counter
Breathe in…
You ask, Do you know what you want?
I say Yes, I always get the same thing.
You glance the menu and we order.
Breathe out…
We wait a long time for our food.
But I feel it.
Standing there.
Glancing at you.
I feel stillness.
I feel calm.
I feel peace.
I feel traquail next to you.
I breathe nice and even breaths. I smile. I laugh.
We talk through the evening and it’s so nice.
I feel calm sipping tea and I listen to you.
I appreciate your casual attire.
It calms me.
I dressed up too much…
It feels effortless being with you.
I don’t feel maddening intensity except I do.
I feel maddening intensity of joy.
Maddening intensity of calm and ease.
Of our first meeting.

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Confess

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I message you full of cheer because I want to make you smile
I think about you working too hard and I’m sad
I daydream about you walking through the windy city
I think about how long it’s been since we saw each other
I think about your mischievous smile
I recall your stunning eyes, no other eyes compare and
The way they used to look at me (maybe I imagined it)
The way you always protected me because you are a kind person
The way you always took me places and just talked to me
The way you could make me laugh and blush
The way you listened to me, it made my world so full of joy I could burst
The way you went through all my school books when we met
On that freezing cold day in the coffee shop
The way you answered all the quiz bowl questions, it was a breeze for you
The way you ordered me wine one time, and now that’s the only wine I drink
I think about how you took me to the soccer game even though you were sick
I think about how you took me to my school so I would know how to get there
I think about your perfectly pressed suits and your vividly colorful bow ties
I think about your Halloween costume and your brown leather brief case
I think about us sitting next to each other in American Lit years ago
And I wonder this :

Should I confess how when you walk into a room time stops and I can’t breath?
Should I confess how much I want to you to kiss me?
Should I confess how badly I want to be held in your arms?
Should I confess how when your eyes sparkle my heart sings?
Should I confess how I think you are my soul mate?

I must, I must but I can’t
I’m scared
I’m too scared of the outcome
So instead the circle continues
I message you full of cheer because I want to
I think about you working too hard and I’m sad
I daydream about you walking through the windy city
I think about how long it’s been since we saw each other…

Confess, I have to confess how I feel
Only then could our love be real

Ode to My Mother (The power of her love)

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Ode to someone I love so much
But only say the bad and ugly about
She buys the chive cheese, flaxseed breed,
And spinach wraps that only I eat.
One time at night I was angry at
the world, and her too.
She slipped a Prince Polo bar
Underneath my bedroom door. (My Favorite)
When I was little she taught
Me how to read and to do multiplication.
I learned how to shave
How to cook scrambled eggs.
There was a time I was really
Quiet and she braided my hair.
I did everything she asked
And I never asked for anything back.

Things changed on the flip on a dime
I was suddenly tall as a tree
Loved football, loved power tools,
Loved law and order SVU and spending
A lot of time at the movies
The beautiful, touching language of Polish
Became one of Harsh tones
Ode to my mother for having
The patience to cook, garden, vacuum
And still love me.
She shortens all my jeans
Deals with the very unlady-like screaming at Bears game.
(Every Single Sunday)

Ode to my mother for having four kids
We all went to different colleges
She let us all have the honor of band
The pure love of music
Her and my father
Spent literally a fortune of their
Money. Instruments for all of us.
Lessons. She came to every concert.
She was the field trip mom.
We always brought the best desserts too.
Ode to her beauty and love for Julia Roberts.
Ode to her love of dancing.
Ode to the culture I love.
The culture I am.

Ode to taking my picture on the
First day of high school.
To cooking and teaching me to
Be calm, gentle, and lady-like. (trying)
Trying to instill in my soul
Good morals.
Taking me to church.
For giving me the two biggest
Gifts which are life and Antonina.
You laughed so much when
You watched Elf. I smiled all night.
I am sorry for everything.
There are too many things
I have said I want to take back.
I am so sorry I ripped
That necklace off my neck
Five years ago. You left my room
In so much pain.
Przepraszam. (I’m Sorry.)

Ode to your love mom
To your language
To you curling my hair,
Making me Chicken Tuna
Making me just tea.
Ode to watching Steel Magnolias.
Kocham Cie. (I love you.)

Forever
Always
Till the day
I go to
Meet my maker
And much much
Longer than that.

Ode to your hair
Your voice
Your Spongebob laugh
That way you save money so we can survive
That way you have a green thumb
That way you drive me to school
That way you will let go one day
So I can fly
Dziekuje (Thank you)

Ode to My Short Fiction Class (Throwback)

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Ode to Gadies and Lettermen

To sitting across from a complete stranger on August 26th

And reading “Hills like White Elephants”

Ode to Nicole the page princess

Ode to Liz Marie the 1st spiritual leader, blunt and fierce

To the chalkboard and that darn desk that is always loose

To the window that displays only a moment in time

Ode to Civil Peace, Building fires, and Sweat

Ode to living out a Saturday night live skit

For drinking water, coffee, or chocolate milk

And listening to Nick’s wise insight about a story

Or simple pride to say he man handles things

Ode to Ben for declaring a boy becomes a man at age 13

Ode to McKenzie for her insight during The Guest,

Choosing structure over freedom

Ode to Spencer for history lessons and beer critiques

To greasy lakes and Open Boats

Ode to Patrick’s memorable quote about what the blind actually see

To Paul’s open-mindedness – thank you for truly diving into the stories

And seeing so many details, giving us so much to think about

Ode to Scriveners, yellow wallpaper, red convertibles and rocking horses

Ode to Liz for being so peaceful, calm amongst the storm

To Megan for having her i-pod and head on straight, sitting in the back, a buffer

To Brian’s skepticism and humor and baseball caps

Ode to Vlad’s indifference and Antonio’s ability to answer

Questions on the flip of a dime when all seems lost

To Nell, my lucky ninja for sharing her frustration of violent video games

During the things we carried discussion

We all sat there quietly, I tried to imagine it but I just lost myself in realizing

We are not as desensitized as we may think

I foolishly went on and on talking like I had some right others didn’t

I apologize for my loudness and my annoying at times presence.

My many tangents

I apologize for calling foul and pounding on the table like the child

In The use of Force

Ode to Bill for reading

And always being able to say from beginning to end what happened

Ode to Mielas for pointing out the great depression and discussing Native Americans

Ode to chrysanthemums, happy endings, greasy lakes, cathedrals, and the guest

To Desiree’s baby and the newborn thrown…

Ode to Megan’s Solace on the side

Ode to Elly’s grace, glasses, giggle and spot on analysis

This is my Ode to Professor Davros for listening to what ever we

Had to say and for taking jokes with a gram of salt

For coming to class and getting a migraine no doubt

But for absorbing all of our babble into something that makes sense

We sit transfixed, bedazzled.

Some loud, some quiet

Some laughing some texting

Some tired, others pumped for discussions

Ode to Occurrences at Bridges, Necklaces, and Real Things

We came as ordinary people and learned where we are

And where we have been

Leaving my desk and chair I emerge towards the door, and stand realizing

“I prefer not to.”

Purple Balloon

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It’s spinning haphazardly
It’s hopping along like a baby chick full of life
It’s a joy, a splash of color
On these strange somewhat uninviting tracks
It dances a waltz with the wind happy to oblige
A spirited and joyous dance
You cannot help but watch
The deep purple against a cloudy sky
The contrast is striking as the waltz continues
Then it’s over quicker than it began
Suddenly the train zooms by
All I can think is
Will I ever witness such a waltz
Will something so ordinary transform
Into something more?
More than a mere balloon…

Ode to Crying

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This is an ode to crying, like in the blazing sun

In a world where

Emotions are a mask for

The true one

While sadness is

Hard to diagnose,

Even though you can feel it in your bones

Thanks crying for being an obvious red flag

That something’s wrong

Out of place

Lost for a while

Or perhaps lost in time or space

Crying, you show courage

Even though you are humiliated, mocked

Keep on crying

Give it all you’ve got

Bottle it up, and then explode

For when people

Go into a lasting shock

Thank you crying for your

Salty appeal

For the wounds

You rip open,

Close shut, and miraculously heal.

Everyone has unique cry

It is a part of them as shy as they could

About it

Weeping

Screeching

Sobbing

Bawling

Howling

Wailing

Vary from a quiet sob

To wailing eardrum crushing…

Crying is an art –

Painting a picture

For the dumb, oblivious,

And the smart

That she loved him from the start

Now she is mangled in knots,

Broken apart

He sees her breakdown,

Take that cell phone

Aqua razor

And break it to bits

Like hitting it with a tazer

But she just flung it against the wall

Creating a sound of breaking metal

And an expression on the fall

The fall on this face

It ends now he decides

They reside each alone

The sadness in her heart

Now presides in his too

That’s what crying can do,

Bring out the best or worse in you

Crying you’ve teamed up with shaking

And lost contact with privacy

I have a bruise the shape of a baseball

From shaking and crying,

I expect an apology from you

But weeping, crying

When I can’t stop

Starting to burst, pop

Then you’ve gone too far.

I know I have to paint the picture

But break eardrums to, sounds like someone

Just lacerated and murdered my soul.

That’s something we could work

On me and you

Less crying,

More laughing?