Speak (A Poem)

Dedicated to girls who use silent treatment to communicate hurt, dedicated to girls who want to be loved but are afraid to let it be known, dedicated to girls who hope their men will guess what they want and are disappointed when they don’t.
If using signs has not worked well for you,consider using words… (written 2009)
Enjoy… 🙂

speak- blog poem

SPEAK
The wind blows and brings no rain
You make promises and run away
You’re like a fleeting thought
A dream difficult to recall
A star that shines brightly
But in a second is covered by a cloud

You’re as slippery as an eel
Unpredictable. Unreadable
I’m filled with uncertainty
Are you happy or sad
Is it something I said or did?
Does this even have anything to do with me?
You’re like a room filled with smoke
Everything is unclear and hazy
You leave my mind fuzzy –with confusion
With questions
Speak out!
Let me know your mind
Use words, be clear
Let me know
I wish you’d be open
Like a cloudless morning
As predictable as the sun’s cycle
So that my heart may be at rest
Knowing your dawn and dusk
Will you please speak?
And do let your words match your actions-
Let them be mirror images
When you say “okay”
Let it be so.

I love you
Stop running
Be true to me
I’m dying to know how to please you
I won’t judge
Please speak.

you are being loved ❤

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How I love you

I love you daily,

Without calculating

Without inhibitions

With no reservation

With no self-consciousness.

Like the sun,

Naked in a vast sky,

With brilliant abandon,

Casting its rays

To the farthest ends

Of the farthest worlds.

 

I love you always

As friend and a brother

One I hug for comfort

And hold for solace

And talk to when weary.

As a partner and lover

One with whom my kisses are safe

And my passion is treasured

And my vulnerability secure

I love you with freedom

And with steadfast assurance

Like a gift that can’t be taken away.

 

I love you thusly,

My arms open wide.

 

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Getting married doesn’t make me Jane

So, I’m getting married this year. Yap, in about 2 months. 71 days to be exact. That makes me a…you guessed it, bride, bride-to-be, ‘fianceed’ , all those names. I know it’s pretty weird for you. Pretty weird for me too I tell you. I’m running around having myself fitted for gowns with my fiance’s brother’s girlfriend (who will soon be my sister legally but I call her sister even now cause she’s very sweet and her boyfriend is also one of my closest friends and I love them both dearly)

Florence and Roxy at Thea's birthday
Florence and Roxy

anyway I am running around checking out hair salons, shoe shops, subscribing for bride magazines, checking out wedding websites, starting my own wedding website (no kidding, it’s http://www.mywedding.com/thekaz but you’ll need a wedpass for that and I don’t know you like that… 😉 )

I found a guy, or more like , a guy found me, he fell in love with me, I fell in love with him, we grew in love with each other and decided to spend the rest of our lives together.

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So yes, I discovered I have emotions and all that gooey stuff and I can love someone enough to be like  “Yes, Yes! I’ll spend the rest of my life with you.” and even have my eyes glisten with salty water while at it.

Yes, I am a girl. And I am one of those girls who gets married and has a dream of having babies running around her and hugging her legs as they giggle or scream. I have just discovered it and probably so have you. But now, right now I must stop you right there. That’s all there is to it. I love this guy, I’m getting married to this guy but I’m no less a Roxanna (or no more a Jane) than I was a couple of months ago. ‘Cause I see now you think you have me all figured out.

You are saying to yourself, “Aha! If she can change her mind about love and commitment, she has probably changed her mind about all these girly things. I bet she has a new love for shopping now, in fact she enjoys it, basks in it even.”                                             “Ho! I bet you this whole wedding thing has her excited. Eh?” She’s probably been dreaming of her gown, has her theme colours down pat in all the right shades, she knows the exact ingredients she wants in her wedding cake, and the song list? She has that typed out neatly and hang by her bedside…”

No, no, stop. Please Stop. Deciding to get married didn’t change my personality. It didn’t make me more feminine. It didn’t make me Jane or whoever that model girl is, who likes to talk about clothes, colours, loves to shop and discuss food recipes. I’m Roxie, I love to sit by myself and read a novel, watch a movie with my best friend (who I happen to be getting married to now ), listen to music, sleep, eat fries and chocolate cake, throw get-together parties for my friends and work (yes, I love my job and Jane doesn’t but who cares).

Please stop doing stuff you were not doing before, like calling me and asking me about what I think about what jewels or what shades of colour. I will get to the church on time, I promise; I will look as beautiful as I possibly can; I will say “I do” cause I do want to be given a chance to learn daily how to show this guy I love him for the rest of my life, then I’ll throw the year’s best party and we’ll eat, drink, dance and have fun. And that will be it. It will be great. But it will be me. It won’t be girly Jane. It will be me, with all my flawed tastes and inability to fuss prettily. It will be me getting married that day and I won’t pretend to be Jane just to make you happy or fulfill your idea of what a bride should be like. I won’t ask for 3 weeks of before the wedding, a couple of days may be but no more. I enjoy my job, and I will want time off more after the wedding than before. I won’t shriek with excitement about colour codes on the phone or go to an expensive salon to get my hair done ( I see that frown on your face but a friend of mine is doing my hair and make-up from home and that’s it. Salons put me in an awful mood-you sit for ages and have to make conversation yet having my hair touched makes me doze off) I’ll serve cold soft drinks at my reception but I’ll serve tea too ’cause my mum likes it. I won’t serve beer even though some people have never been to parties without it, I don’t like the way it smells and I don’t want to puke on my white dress (which I had a hard time choosing because they all seemed so white and nice and almost the same to me).

I hope it’s okay with you? I’m pretty happy and excited. Just let me show it my way.

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