Chivalry is Dead

Lucky is the one
Who wakes up to serenades
In up tempo love songs
One can groove to
With swing and swag,
Putting to rest
The conventional 19th century
Chivalrous heart
Which must be the reason
For morning yawns and sighs.
Replacing bouquets of dying flowers
With potted memories rich in soil
That flourish in vibrant ’80s hues,
And keeps one amused past mornings
And through afternoons.
Evenings no longer anticipating
Boxed chocolates
That leave a bitter aftertaste
Which must be washed down
With ice cold milk to go down sweet,
But instead brought with
Juxtaposed heavy and light hitting banter and healthy endeavors
Which leave a warm spot in ones heart
With no want to wash it away,
But rather let it grow
Knowing that anxiety is no longer
Part of an equation to romance.
And understanding that what is to come, already has.
It just lies in wait of physically coming into sight of lovers eyes
Without blight nor flight,
But funky songs and light nimble feet that step to the beat of mornings sweets.


Fasting makes its slow

Day four of juice fast and I can’t think of anything I’ve done that might be crazier than this. The first day I kept thinking how much I wanted so badly to bite into the very worst things saturated in flavor. Hot dogs and hamburgers were on my list of the few foods I wanted to sink my teeth into (foods i usually don’t eat and hardly crave).Then as I was making Easter egg salad sandwiches for my family I pondered if licking the egg mayo from my fingers counted as eating. (which I really thought of doing but shook my head and wiped my fingers with a paper towel). So for dinner I drank a green carrot juice which held me over, but I do remember walking around a little foggy.
Day two was a bit better, but as I made my son Elijah food, I realized how often I took a nibble any time I made food, and I love to cook. So the temptations were insurmountable. And this is without exaggeration. I love and adore food. The chewing as it releases layer upon layer of juices in my mouth, the aroma as it creeps up to scintillate the tiny hairs of my nose, and the swallowing as my brain receptors let me know I did good. I made Elijah a homemade pink guava and Swiss cheese spread sandwich on white bread. He didn’t want it, and actually kept refusing it as I kept offering it to him in a ziplock bag. I didn’t get it. It looked, as he would say, scrumptious. I couldn’t even risk taking it out of the bag. So finally After I dropped him off at his Dad’s, I sat there in the car outside of Vons knowing that I will have to throw away this beautiful, fluffy square of heaven. And I sat there thinking, “Do I dare? Can I just have a sniff?” and I opened the bag and a puff of that scent of the sweet white bread tickled my nose, causing my mouth to salivate and my stomach to grumble with displeasure. “and what would it hurt if I took one bite, and maybe not even swallow it?” But I resisted, shook my head again and tossed the sandwich in its plastic coffin into the trash with honest sadness.
Day 3 became easy. I resigned myself to the fast. This is something that is good for me and I want to do this. Really it’s interesting how much of your emotional junk starts filtering out with all the rest of the toxins in your body. Food wise, I was finally at ease. I was only doing this for 5 days and I’m halfway done. Time seems to go slowly without food. I don’t have meals to use as units of measurement. I have some kind of fluid with me at all times so drinking on the go saves much time.
Yesterday I walked into the grocery store to buy sweet potatoes and brussel sprouts to juice, which was surprisingly the best and most satisfying juice yet. Even threw a little rosemary in it with other greens to make it both yummy and nutritious. Anyway at the grocery store, I went mock shopping. I looked at different foods, read labels, smelled in the dearly missed coffee, and finally went up to pay for my sustenance. The one thing that makes this whole experience enjoyable is to do it with someone who keeps my spirits tickling with laughter.
Day four I sit here getting used to the weird stomach noises and realize I’m surprisingly full of energy. Sipping in juice and clearer than I’ve ever been, I can see it. I can see the clarity even in my face. After getting past the hunger and the “thirst”, which is ironic since I’m constantly consuming some sort of fluid, I feel like I’ve finally got to that mental space I was hoping to reach when I first ventured into the idea of fasting. In a way it’s a little scary because I was wondering if what I might find would have me make decisions the old me wouldn’t want to make. There are things that wise people do that I feel take away from life’s pleasures, but wisdom should not be denied either so I sit and write wondering how much wisdom I really want? Maybe doing some of the things that are not so wise will bring me more peace and happiness in life’s entirety.
One thing that I have enjoyed throughout this whole experience is that time has slowed back down to the same speed I felt it as a child. The long days with excitement that tomorrow has something more magical to reveal to me, like maybe a bowl of broccoli salad (which seems to be my current obsession) that I can masticate to death as I swallow into my no longer smiling tummy, but at least a flat one. I feel like this fast has slowed down time enough to add more to my own existence and so i know that my choice must have been the best. After this is over, will I allow myself to suffer again? I can only think I would and hope that it will get easier each time I do.


The Reason

This is what it is.
That feeling when you can’t stop smiling,
Even as someone tells you how their fish just died.
And the defeat of the slow, shuffling steps by the light wistful gait.
And the overwhelming sensation that has you believing
That your 6th sense is nestled somewhere in the center of your chest.

It is not waiting for a spark to ignite
Because the fire infinitely ablaze,
Is, was, and will be.
Yet how did you not notice it all along?
Because it does not make you blind,
But abruptly peels open the skin
So you can finally look past the back of your eyelids.

And this is the climax.
Not the heart wrenching spiraling tragedy
People seem to confuse with excitement,
But the constant speeding forward that causes your stomach to stand outside of your body.

So this is why I write the only story ever told.