Tag: Lonely

So, I’ve heard you’ve missed me. Well I’ve missed you to. I know for sure now that sharing with you was super healthy for me. Ranting, raving, criticizing, praising, crying, laughing, shouting at the top of my lungs on paper. These are all of the things necessary for my growth and development.

Since we’ve been apart, I’ve moved into my very own 1 bedroom apartment, have a boyfriend for almost a year, had to call the police to remove him in September, my son turned 17 and has become distant, my daughter is now 12 and calls me every chance she gets and tells me EVERYTHING, just like my son used to, and I’m loving it. My son will be going away to college in the summer, he earned a full academic scholarship to an out of state college which is way closer to New York than here in California, insert sad face here. I’m struggling with mental and emotional frustration. I have feelings of loss and I’m angry that we weren’t ever able to regain any symbol of our lives together before he becomes an adult. He’ll be gone soon and sometimes I feel like I’ve failed him. There’s still hope for getting my daughter back under my roof again. I plan to propose this move I’m the summer.

I started teaching tap at a local dance studio to children soon after moving into my new home in a new community. I loved my job and I was so amazed and blessed with such wonderful, scary talented, young ones. I apparently got bit by a spider on the outside of my vagina and suffered unbelievable amounts of pain, fever, and dilutions, causing me to miss the end of semester performance rehearsals and the show itself. I was under the impression someone had updated my boss concerning my health problem (I almost died) but when I realized no-one hadn’t I was furious and embarrassed but I took a scary step and called to address the issue many many days after the events. I left a voicemail message explaining what happened, I never received a response and in turn, my fears and total humiliation took over, paralyzing me to the point of never returning to work and never making another attempt to call and reconcile. I am now in a slight funk/depression but I can honestly say that’s the only pressing problem I’m avoiding these days.

Well, there’s the newest issue where I’m dealing again with this treacherous “blood family” of mine. This time it isn’t about my children, it’s about my Mother. She went into the hospital on Thursday and I only found out on Saturday because the one cousin who I am still communicating with called to tell me. When I tell you the awful things that the Aunts and whomever else said/did when asked why I hadn’t been included in the discussion thread about my Mother, you’ll probably be as hurt as I am. The good news is that with the help of my “Wonder Twin” brother I was able to put my anger and pain to the side and address my Mother’s care with confidence and love. As a result of my maturity (at least I think this is why) I received a call today from a medical professional giving me an update on my Mother’s care. I am sitting on the toilet as I type into my phone a proud daughter.

And as for the last quick update, my brother and I have finally been able to be in the same place at the same time!!! He visited at the end of last year and came back again from December to mid-January. That’s a drama filled story that you don’t want to miss.

There’s so many other details to write about. This is the foundation of the new and improved blog from me, Warner Bailey.

I’ll be posting reviews on the new places I’m visiting, including, restaurants, malls, liqour stores, and random events. You’ll learn about my in-depth online shopping experiences and why I’m more cyber based than ever. HINT: Every heard of agoraphobia? Eeks!

I’ll be sharing my experience so far as an alcoholic who is drinking again but still LOVES AA and has in-home meetings, refers to the big book for guidance, and isn’t ashamed, hiding, or worried about living in a bush again.

I’m back with way more confidence, new perspectives, strange theories, and so much to complain about, laugh about, cry about, and hope about.

Just like the year, I’m here with clearer vision. Life still sucks and still so beautiful.

I’m looking forward to engaging more with you and including you in THE WARNER BAILEY PROJECT soon to be a MOVEMENT.

Peas and blessings, double L squared, bad peace in the North East. I’m Audi 5,000!

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Born Free, Mother to Baby

Happy Bornday Baby, From Mommy
Rip me open again, will you?
Let me breathe one more time in synchronicity with you,
my beloved.
I miss your tiny fingers clutching my breast while you fed.
Nails so thin and new, sharp, painful grasps, far from bothered because it was you.
This little light of mine.
She shines,
I,
Mother,
am blind.
With each new awakening, I remember vividly you saying, “Mommy, wake up. Wake up Mommy, it’s time to wake up.”
Your voice was so mature, I’d never heard you sound like that before, I left you, a baby, next phone conversation you had the voice I heard, mature.
Despite me, you thrive.
You saved my life.
Every day I die a little bit more.
My daughter, how strange still to say.
Still, I say it anyway.
Born on this very day, we waited patiently for you.
You tried to come too soon.
MIdwife says to be with Mommy a bit longer Dear.
Excited to meet you face to face,
I still wait.
Be still they say,
soon she’ll be with you.
I miss your laughing face.
Your beauty is beyond me.
I still can’t believe you call me Mommy.
Oh, Freedom, beloved blessing, your name says everything.
Be you always.
Mommy Loves you baby.
I’ve been struggling, in battle, fighting, for you for a decade, holding memories hostage, craving for how we used to be.
No longer 2 or 3, 12 now, wiser than me.
Never stop being you, don’t be like me.
Be you always.
Free.
– Warner Bailey

June 15, 2019
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Death is a Maiden
The Siren Song of Death
Death is a maiden.
I feel her call – her siren song,
The mournful wailing.
I start to drown,
In the sinking ship I was bailing.
Death is a maiden that calls to me.

The Hair of Death
Death is a maiden.
A close call,
Trivial things caused me to rush.
The busy bustle of life,
That’s what caused my brush-
With the hair of death.
Death is a maiden with beauty everlasting.

The Luscious Lips of Death
Death is a maiden.
And I lust for her.
I received the kiss of her luscious lips.
Causing not an infatuation,
But an obsession of ginormous girth.
Death is a maiden and I flirt with her daily.

The Embrace of Death
Death is a maiden.
I yearn for the sweet release of her embrace.
An oxymoron, a contradiction,
Yet the immense freedom of her touch,
Is beyond human comprehension.
Death is a maiden who will never let go.

The Maidenhood of Death
Death has lost her maidenhood.
I united myself with her.
There was not a fight fought,
Only a lesson taught.
Death is a miserable cur.

-Don Silver

April, 2018

Age 15
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National Poetry Month – Day 29

http://isthisreallifereally.blogspot.com/2019/04/life-sucks-and-is-so-beautiful-life.html

And now for our penultimate (optional) prompt! The poet William Wordsworth once said that “Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.” For Wordsworth, a poem was the calm after the storm – an opportunity to remember and summon up emotion, but at a time and place that allowed the poet to calmly review, direct and control those feelings. A somewhat similar concept is expressed through the tradition of philosophically-inclined poems explicitly labeled as “meditations,” – like Robert Hass’s “Meditation at Lagunitas,” the charming Frank O’Hara prose poem, “Meditations in an Emergency,” or Charles Baudelaire’s “Meditation.”
Today, I’d like to challenge you to blend these concepts into your own work, by producing a poem that meditates, from a position of tranquility, on an emotion you have felt powerfully. You might try including a dramatic, declarative statement, like Hass’s “All the new thinking is about loss,” or O’Hara’s “It is easy to be beautiful; it is difficult to appear so.” Or, like, Baudelaire, you might try addressing your feeling directly, as if it were a person you could talk to. There are as many approaches to this as there are poets, and poems.
Happy writing!

I get my prompts HERE!

Life Sucks and is so beautiful

Life sucked so bad when all I wanted was a big brother. As an only child, I asked my Mother, begged and pleaded for a big brother. “That’s not how that works.” I remember her saying. Which ever way she responded each time I asked was the equivalent to “No.”
How beautiful life is when I was United with a son my father had with another woman, not my Mother. He’s older than me. We’ve grown to be very close. We get along famously. He is my big brother.
Life sucks and is so beautiful.
Life was beautiful in the beginning. Full of wonder, joy, peace, excitement, newness, comfort, Mommy, home, love, playing, learning, different, new, home, love, more, future, change, same, same home, same Mommy, same love. Striving for a plato of same while every now and then venturing off to new, to always come back to same.
Change.
Along the way I lost the will to wonder, I lost joy, peace, excitement, and comfort. Only newness was the same. I became uncomfortable, Mommy seemed so far away, home was far away until one day there was no home anywhere, anyway. Love felt lost, no more play. Still learning. Rapidly different, always new. No Mommy, no home, no love, no more, seemingly hopeless. Lost. Some unweighed portion of me still striving to come back, to what? I don’t know, except the feeling of comfort, Mommy, Home.
Change.
Life sucks, I’m still not awake to be comfortable while Mommy still waits for me to come home.
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“The true horizon is actually a theoretical line, which can only be observed when it lies on the sea surface. “

Prospective is a mutha fucka

See through my eyes you can’t.

Let me describe it to you best way I know how.

Listen to the words and the rhythm in which they’re said. Hear the emphasis, the staccato, lulls, breaks, and bridges. Join me in my head through every sight, sound, taste, and smell, I express with passion and conviction, sentiment and feeling.

Still you may hear it different.

It may not be bass and treble, it can be as simple as cases being upper and lower, we will both recite that “W” is the letter.

What I see is real, I see something. I see the horizon when they say it’s coming, until I scew my focus and the line becomes blurry and my surroundings become clear and far too close to me.

The scene is the same. I change.

I can look at anything in anyway.

“Perspective is something else.” I shake my head and say.

Twisted in the worst and the best way.

“Life Sucks and is so Beautiful.” –Warner Bailey

http://isthisreallifereally.blogspot.com/2019/04/horizon.html

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