Rhythm

layed you on my breast
eternally pressed on my shoulder now
the days turn to longer days
the micromoments of me and you

the rocks; you rocked me
you expected me to be there, so i was
and we will never be so entwined again

your hands are bigger now
reach for more than before
imprints of us locked inside my jaw

you could cut someone with your eyes
you sliced me in half
i was looking up at the white ceiling
motionless; why did i want to do this again

rewind
splash on the floor
you dancing as you do
rhythmic and hard

you weren’t even crying
i wasn’t either
it wasn’t our romance yet

you would take and i would give
it felt endless, but there was a beginning
there was an end; there always is
now, you breathe the life into my throat

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Relief

you can pretend until remnants are slipping off that sculpture
you will never get away with it alive
it will eat you or i will
boo bitch; my morals will haunt you until the day you die

and you pathetically tell yourself you protect her; while you let him use and abuse her when convenient for him
it’s “too painful” so your chin runs in the other direction
it might scar your “perfect” reputation you try to believe you uphold
prom queen; fucking phony

most people with half an eye see through your narcissistic charm
why do you think he ended up this way, sugar?
i’ll give you a 20 letter hint… it’s not the one you blame

you’re ice cold; well i’m hot as hell bitch
so feel my wrath
because it’s coming… man it’s coming

play with me; i triple dog dare you
you think you’re a lion
honey, i’m mixed; all three
pit bull, lion, bear
and i will devour every last bit of your facade after i slash you to scraps

you can pretend until remnants are slipping off that sculpture
you will never get away with it alive
it will eat you or i will
boo bitch; my morals will haunt you until the day you die

and i pray to the grass skies i can taste that drop of relief in the cool, black water
when it rains; you will feel me
you won’t forget me, but we will be long gone

Photo Cred

Sipping Solstice Tea

I used to hold the dark, beaten bird in my hands, gripping it close to my heart; fearful of letting that tiny beast go. But tonight, as I looked up at the slice in the sky, I felt comfort by the ever fulfilling promise of metamorphosis. Of change. Of the feeling that it is only the beginning.

I sit in solitude before an udon platter and house sushi roll special; I feel my back stretch with dignity and pride. There may have been a time where the anxiety might have devoured me…eating in a restaurant alone.

Chopsticks in hand; I am fully embodying my self on this winter solstice. Halfway through, I realize I ordered too much Chinese food [can one ever really order the proper amount of Chinese food?!], and I’m not going to force myself to keep eating. I’m listening to my body’s voice. My voice.

I called on my babysitter tonight specifically to do some solstice ritual and reflecting. My conclusion: I’m proud of what this year has shown me about myself. Proud of who I am. May not be a revelation for some, but it is for me as the dark moon lays on a golden sliver above the small-town-America restaurant… I sit here with a stark acceptance of the darkness I have danced out of. I honor it as the traditional Asian flutes play overhead.

I used to hold the dark, beaten bird in my hands, gripping it close to my heart; fearful of letting that tiny beast go. But tonight, as I looked up at the slice in the sky, I felt comfort by the ever fulfilling promise of metamorphosis. Of change. Of the feeling that it is only the beginning.

Steam crawls off my China tea cup, and I pour myself another flowery round. I’m in no rush. Dammit, I deserve this tea. I deserve to enjoy it. I envelope the crux of my evolution as I take another sip. The discount wine on old, laminate paper to my left doesn’t tempt me. I don’t need a drink to validate me. I don’t need anything to validate me anymore. I just am.

The waitress delivers my fortune. Forgive the action, forget the intent; the words evaporate into the universe. Do you mind if I have an orange? One I will endow the bare branches with on my way out. As I bow down in sheer disbelief at the magic of this life.

Photo Credit

Marshmallow Cities

we will descend to the Earth’s core

but when you lean on a rock wall to catch your breath, it will crumble right before your eyes into pebbles in your hands

you will look down at me, weary, and not regret a thing

Marshmallow Cities

that evening, my silken blue pillow case was still coated in your scent
maybe it always will be; how could i forget?

before you, there was only i
an eye contracted by other’s curbs
a heart on the verge of starvation

then came you in your celestial glory
you carried a boundless book in your hands

you told me it was going to be a tale of an insurmountable devotedness
a story of abounding truths
a source with inexhaustible amounts

my intoxication with your wildness thickened as you turned the tattered pages; for this was an apologue etched deep within my code
it was an ancient root uncovered, waiting patiently to drink tomorrow’s rain water

you whispered to me, this will change you
maybe break you
it will illuminate every edge; soften your harshest ridges, congeal your greatest gorges

then you leaned in with a calculating accuracy, of the dignified spirit you possess
you think you know love? my dear, you know nothing yet; i will show you

we will tirelessly explore big, marshmallow cities and sparkling towns of tinsel
places you had faintly dreamt of, but
the real thing will satisfy your delights further than your mind could have imagined

we will descend to the Earth’s core
but when you lean on a rock wall to catch your breath, it will crumble right before your eyes into pebbles in your hands
you will look down at me, weary, and not regret a thing

my expansiveness will take up so much room in your home, that sometimes you won’t be able to breathe
your dusty objects will wither away as you turn your back to them and lush succulents will grow in their places

your attachment to me will frighten you as your eyes blink over me in awe
my spunk will scare you as the buoyant brunches of yesterday float off into space

my durability may intimidate you
my moxie will crush you
but your adoration will be transcendent
it will inspire us both

and when i forget the words of this book in the pains of my legs,
you will know it by heart and lead me with a gutsiness so absolute, i’ll wonder why it fell out of my hands

your shoulders will ache with a new sorrow
your heart will pound with a heavy allegiance

but you will never go hungry again

Written by: Mary Ehlers

The Seasons

stretched thin in the undertow
caught between a fisherman’s reel and cast
feet wrapped in the anchor
drifting; drowning

The Seasons

set out on a midsummers sail
knee deep in the tumbling winds
belly up on the underbelly of a whale
coasting; free

stretched thin in the undertow
caught between a fisherman’s reel and cast
feet wrapped in the anchor
drifting; drowning

coexisting in the crusty waters of fall
eyes set to the shoreline
wavering gaze
cold; lost

it’s below freezing
in the depths of february’s afternoon
head smacked to the shore
where the tide came in and the crabs roam
with a fist full of blood and a heart full of sand
choking on the grains of yesteryear
tired; ashamed

booeys cast in shallow wave
thickly painted big wooden chairs set for tomorrow
seagulls scattered on a merciful may morning
searching; humble

pink rays drift and the sun sets on june
as you toss back a prayer and ride home
as you set your compass for home
as you gather your sand dollars and walk home
as you set free your shells and swim home

as you plunge the waves and sink home

Written by: Mary Ehlers

Kick that Cold- Grandmama Style

When my kid is sick in 2043, I want her to crack a smile when she remembers the extra snuggles she got and her mom’s special soup that remedied her ailments. Also, I want her to invite me over to her house to make it for her/snuggle/give me the 411 on her life…

Bone broth… liquid of the Gods. It was my daughter’s first non-breastmilk food!

This past week I fought off a DAC [daycare acquired cold] and it was difficult…basically, I had to pull out the big guns.

Knowing how to make a good soup should be a parental requirement. Don’t you want someone to make you soup when you are sick?

When my kid is sick in 2043, I want her to crack a smile when she remembers the extra snuggles she got and her mom’s special soup that remedied her ailments. Also, I want her to invite me over to her house to make it for her/snuggle/give me the 411 on her life…

This is semi-lame of me to admit…but one of my favorite books to read when I was younger was the Chicken Soup for the Soul series. It was my 10 year old version of a trashy reality show, but wholesome; because I was 10. I turned the pages…tear jerker after motivational story. I ate it up. I didn’t yet comprehend the true symbolism of the title, because I had never had a great homemade soup. My point being chicken soup is good for the soul… and once you make your own great chicken soup, you won’t go back!

What I like to do is grab a rotisserie chicken; eat some for dinner, and pick the rest
[or you can save your meat bones after every meal for a while, or chicken carcasses…you can freeze them for a later soup, you can use a few at one time.]

What you need for the STOCK + SOUP

  • A whole chicken
  • 3 Onions
  • 4 Carrots
  • 4 Celery
  • A few Potatoes
  • 2 tablespoons Apple Cider Vinegar
  • Bag of frozen peas, corn, carrots
    • Optional [and delectable] ingredients
      * Sweet potato
      * Bay Leaf
      * Any other root veggies
      * Kale
      * Garlic clove
      * Scallions
      * Egg
      * Tumeric
      * Ginger
      * Salt
      * Pepper

Dust off your deepest pot, put the bones in and fill it near to the top with water [the water doesn’t really matter, you can always add more, or cook the stock longer for richer flavor]

Toss in your onion, carrots, celery [potato and bay leaf if you have em] No need to get Top Chef here and chop anything into pretty little cubes… you can even throw in the onion whole, it will fall apart in the cooking process.

Pour in Apple Cider Vinegar. It helps extract the nutrients from the bones, and adds a nice acidity.

Once it’s boiling- stir + skim the muck off the top.

I let the stock simmer on low overnight while I’m sleeping with the top on.

You can simmer for 24 + hours if you so desire. 15 always seems like the magic number to me.

When you’re ready; strain out all the bones and veggies. I usually drink a cup like tea at this point.

Now is the time you can throw in whatever you fancy. Add the chicken you picked off and saved if you want…

I love to add kale, turnips, sweet potato, red potato, onions, and the frozen veggies.

Sprinkle in some spices. Ladle some up for you and your family and enjoy.

Now that I have a big pot of stock, I usually heat up each meal in a smaller pot so as not to reheat so many times.

For the tough sickness I couldn’t kick this week… I made an egg drop soup fresh each time. I chopped up some scallions, garlic, ginger and whipped an egg and tossed it in as it was heating up.

Thanks to my soup, I am now on the mend.