Brain Drain (A Poet's Journal)

Calm

2011-04-29T07:01:00.000-05:00

Things are definitely calming down at work. As I prepare myself for the new assistant to start Monday and continue with ongoing organization and strengtheneing of the curriculum of the program I see a bright new day ahead. Yesterday the peer facilitaor called in so I had to do groups. What a blast!! I got paid to socialize, granted it was socializing with a purpose, but guiding a topic for a normal adult coversation was so much more fun for me and more fulfilling than trying to teach a 30 year old how to tie his shoes when he had not been able to learn it the last 10 years. I really do love my job and now that the drama seems to have passed, it is even better.

Moving right along

2011-04-20T18:34:00.000-05:00

My week is going well and things at work are calm for the most part. A week ago today there was quite a lot of hostility directed at me and today it is mostly a memory. I guess everything blows over in time. I'm looking forward to May 2nd when the new psychosocial assistant starts. I have to share her for an hour or so at the beginning and end of the day until a new driver is hired, but that will be better than not having her in the office at all.

New Day, New Beginning

2011-04-18T06:54:00.000-05:00

Well, I got all the garbage out and now I'm ready to continue down this path we call life. I could continue to gripe and moan, there will ALWAYS be something to complain about because that is the way life is. Or I could take the first step into my new world, only talk (beyond basic greetings) to those I have learned I can trust, and accept the way things are. I have something a few others want, so people will be gunning for me. With hard work and dilligence I can continually decrease the size of the target on my back until it is barely visible. I know there will always be a target there of some sort because some people are vindictive, but if I say nothing to them, there will be no words to twist. I hate to change from my openness and transparency, but sadly my new position calls for it, at least in the climate I work in. New life, new world, onward and upward...

Taking Ownership

2011-04-17T15:30:00.000-05:00

I've always seen taking ownership of something to be beneficial. It makes it mean more to me and treat it with more respect. It causes me to take more responsibility for the processes and the outcomes. I was told Thursday that when I say "my assistant" it makes me sound like I am trying to be better than others. I was told that the assistant is the assistant for the program, for the company, not for me. I am supposed to say "the assistant" and "the program". This is going to be a major undertaking. We all say, my job, my desk, my caseload, my boss, etc. and saying my assistant or my program is a natural extention of that language. I caught myself saying my assistant the other say after recieving this information and I corrected myself. Afterward a co-worker said "good because you sounded like you were getting a little to big for your britches". I'm honestly pretty much pissed off right now because anyone that knows me knows I am probably one of the least conceited people you could ever meet. To me, we are each gifted with the giftings God wanted us to have and we are each special in our own way. That people I have worked with for years could actually think that about me and go to my boss about it is quite irritating. My fear is that I will now be so afraid of what might come out of my mouth that I will stop talking to people as openly as I always have and now I will really seem conceited. I have been stabbed in the back more times in the last month than I have probably in the last 10 years. I really feel like my boss should not have encouraged my peers to complain about such petty concerns. I fear that as a nation, we are creating a culture of whiners who have no backbone. I have put up with people ACTUALLY being rude to me for years and have said nothing, but my choice between the words "my" and "the" seem to have become a major issue in the minds of some people. Don't get me wrong, I am still happy for "the" new position and new opportunity, but having to walk on eggshells over such a trivial thing is quite a burden when I have lots of big things to worry about.

Word Watching

2011-04-14T20:17:00.000-05:00

We watch what we say
as words spill, most useless,
to fill the heavy stillness
that is silence.
Sounds of lip slapping as women
chatter about lovers or friends.
The need to be pretty or popular
never goes away, just morphs
into sharp or successful.
The world drives, and I,
a passenger, watch it all
zoom by in the silence
I learn to embrace. Here
I hear His voice, try to listen
as He tells me how to live.

Facing the day

2011-04-14T07:01:00.000-05:00

My life as a poet seems to be on hold because I'm distracted with, well, life. My assistant resigned 2 weeks ago and her last day was supposed to be this coming Friday. She went out with a bang yesterday and tried to take me with her. I'm going in today to face the day and see how much damage control I have to do. I really hope everyone understands the vindictiveness of this person and believes what I know to be the truth... On a positive note, another friend and I made up after the announcement that I officially have the job so... hopefully all is good.

Ups and downs, but mostly ups

2011-04-11T21:17:00.000-05:00

So life is very interesting right now. I've been warming the seat of my predecessor at work for the last month, playing the waiting game. She officially resigned the end of last week and I found out today. I met with the Executive Director today and was told I WILL NOT have to apply for this job, that it makes the most sense for me to keep doing it as I have done a great job for the last month and my previous job (that I had been pretty dissatisfied with for a couple of years) would be posted early this week. While there is no pay raise as the job is the same pay grade, I do get to experience some new challenges with switching from the world of developmental training services (for adults with developmental disabilities) to Psychosocial Rehabilitation Services (for adults diagnosed with a mental illness), supervising my assistant and a summer intern, and running an entire program instead of just having a caseload that is part of a much larger program. After I was given this wonderful news, I had the best annual employee evaluation I've ever had in my life. To top that, this evaluation was given to me by the Executive Director of my company, as my supervisor is on an extended leave. In my 10 years with this company this has to be one of the best days I've ever had there.Some co-workers may not be very happy with the decision not to post the position I have taken, but I won't let it get me down. Life is good!!

Butterfly

2011-04-05T20:43:00.000-05:00

Cross legged on
my cocoon's floor,
comfortable in the dark.
Desire swells inside,
pulsates with dreams of more
than than the known. I
push down fear, reach
beyond walls,
wrestle my way out.
The warmth on my face
comforts, lifts spirits.
Deep inside I know
first steps are always
the hardest.

The Wind and You

2011-04-05T06:53:00.000-05:00

Lilac breezes tease
fresh hair arouses

Dust flies, earth to air
eyes pierce, souls cling

Wind licks sun-kissed skin
lips pepper waiting flesh

Gusts carry ocean mist
body dew entices tongue

Summer storm, house creaks
bodies rest, a sigh

Smell of Yesterday

2011-04-04T19:33:00.000-05:00

Wind whistles, chills,yet
fills me with hope.
Leaves from last fall
swirl in this spring's storm
then quietly
coat the ground.
They lie in wait
for tulips to push them
aside, like crumpled blankets,
for the scent of lilac
to fill the nostrils of passers-by
and hide the smell
of yesterday.

Inspiration

2011-04-03T20:39:00.001-05:00

The inspiration to write comes and goes. When it stays gone, it tends to be gone for a long, long time. Apathy can easily engulf the muse and mine struggles. The poem below is an old one I came across while trying in futility to get some inspiration. I hope I figure it out soon because I miss my muse...

Swelter

2011-04-03T20:37:00.000-05:00

Always the early girl, yet
I don't like mornings.
Hop the wire fence
just to get to you.
Blood runs red
and ants enjoy
drops from my green
flip-flops,
sticky sweet like strawberries.
The late-summer sun
burns hot
the brandywine, sunsugar
cherry, forgotten,
hang on the vine.
Empty sacks
like my heart,
left to rot
among the pleasant smell
of lavender.

What the Conch in the Reef Feels

2008-11-18T21:12:00.001-06:00

I rode on a hermit's back,
was left for another.
Now free of his scratchy skin
and love for travel, I sit
content in the sand.
It moves over and under me, smooths

my surface. Soon I'm hugged
by an algae sweater, followed by
a barnacle brooch. Fish lips
tickle my shoulder as they snack.
I smile inside,
happy to supply their buffet.

A current provides a dizzying ride
as I bob and roll and finally
rest in a coral bed.
Starfish glide over me, kiss
with hundreds of tiny tube feet.
I dance with urchin and anemone

in my sea forrest, brushed by
tentacles and leaves. As I ride off
on my new hermit's back,
my insides scratched, I await the day
he grows too large, and hope
it's in the reef.

The Artist

2008-11-16T15:21:00.000-06:00

Some wish life was like
a new box of crayons.
I don't mind
my favorite shades
are worn.

I've colored my life
with praying hands
folded for my father,
knowledge that an army
surrounds me.

Some see
broken crayons.
I see light through darkness,
a rainbow, the first
tulip of spring.

Snippets

2008-10-16T14:51:00.001-05:00

Blue is the color of rain, of
Lounge chairs on bright beaches
Under blankets of sky, of indigo
Enlaced like thread through a rainbow

I write so
I can see the sound
of sunsets
of geese that
migrate in a V

Dream Catcher

2008-10-16T14:49:00.000-05:00

I was your yesterday,
a dream of what might have been.
I heard you whisper your heart
and I wore your pulse as my necklace.
I sustained myself on moonbeams and smiles
but the best smiles were yours.
I wanted to catch your laugh,
seal it in a jar like a firefly
so I could bask in its glow daily.
Instead I caught a scowl
and now my storm jar is all
I have to keep me company
as I wait for you, trapped
on the edge of tomorrow.

Winter

2008-07-31T21:26:00.000-05:00

Pale trees fall, sapless
in the eerie wood
as last leaves shiver
to the ground

REM

2008-05-12T21:54:00.000-05:00

sun hides at day's end
earth's edge an eyelid
allowing sleep
one hemisphere at a time
your memory slips by
a loose eyelash
I brush from my cheek

Taco Bell, Prune, a car crash, What do these have in common?

2008-05-04T21:27:00.001-05:00

My latest dream began with me being at Taco Bell with a client of mine and a co-worker. My co-worker told me to get the club chalupa with double meat but I was arguing with the person at the register because I saw a commercial that it came in a combo with a dessert and the employee was trying to tell me one individually wrapped Sunsweet prune WAS my dessert. Apparently something was resolved because next thing I know I was in the passenger seat of my car and my client was driving. This is odd because she not only has mental retardation but also wears coke bottle glasses and can't see very well with them. Anyway, she's driving and I kept yelling for her to slow down and she kept saying "I'm trying" all the while continuing to accelerate. The dream ends with my car flying Dukes of Hazard style into the woods. (I woke up before the crash).

Writer's Block

2008-05-02T07:01:00.000-05:00

I haven't written a poem for a week or so now. It seems I can't even think of a topic to write one about. I say "seems" because I've been here before. I don't really believe in writer's block per se. I think, at least in my case, my brain needs time to rest. I spend a lot of time writing, reading, and critiquing poety but sometimes the writing needs to step back a bit and wait for inspiration to come. It is after these times of apparent drought that some of my best works follow.

Dreams

2008-04-30T06:32:00.000-05:00

Dreams are weird things. They come from this strange land inside our brains where all the parts of our life swim together in one big pool. Work, social, family, and all the other parts of our lives mingle with one another without regard to the usual compartments we set up to keep these things separate. I tend not to tell people my dreams anymore because they tend to look at me like I have 3 heads or something. I do need to start writing them down though. They'd make some good inspiration for poetry. For example...last night's dream...

My grandma brings me something (what it is is a mystery) at work that I need to fax. She looks more elderly and fragile than usual. I help her walk to this big office center we don't really have at work, a really nice one with 2 fax machines. I am bummed because the repair man is working on the nice one and I have to use the older one. My grandma does not remember the number she needs to fax to, but for some reason one of my clients, a man with Autism, holds the key. While I am trying to get the number from him another client is talking, someone is paging over the intercom and another staff person is telling the client I'm getting the number from to be quiet so she can hear the page. I answer the page and it is another staff person freaking out. She says, "Is it true?" I ask, "Is what true?" She says there is a news report out about toxic shock syndrome and because of this new information our company is forbidding all staff persons from using tampons. I assure her it is a rumor and the dream ends.

Weird, huh?

Why do I write?

2008-04-29T17:27:00.000-05:00

People don't understand it. My drive, desire, passion to write. Not just words on a page, no, it's not that simple. It is who I am. Sometimes I think it is a curse to be creative. I buried this part of me for years and only let it out again last fall. I was happy on the surface, but down deep it felt like a part of me had died. So here I am again. Writing. Only this time the addiction is much worse. I carry paper and pen with me wherever I go. Books about my craft are a part of every ensemble. They are hidden in my desk drawers at work. I twitch thinking about the next time I can get one out. Every walk, interaction, everything I do or see is potential inspiration for my next work. So the answer is...I write because I HAVE to, because if I don't I will burst.

I Am

2008-04-29T16:30:00.000-05:00

The color blue, in the shape of a spiral. A crashing
wave against a bright summer sky.

The number eight, artistic yet stable. I won’t
tip no matter what side you stand me on.

A cat, I curl up beside you and purr,
back arches with your hand's stroke.

A maple, I provide inconspicuous shade, but
occasionally show bright red plumage.

The moon overhead when you sleep outside
and the dew on your face when you wake.

Afraid of nothing and everything, exploring
unknown things and not reaching.

A collector of images and words. I keep them
in a treasure box behind my eyes, a pen my only key.