War-Words: Picture Frame in My Mind’s Eye. {poetry}
The war is over or is it? Do I know you as a dirty innocent thing yet? A discarded soft child forgotten by your god? A picture frame made of wilted flowers?
Browsing Tag:
Abby Pingree
The Night We Met.
I returned to that night as I am now, as my 11-years-since aged self. We were at a party. Our 10-year high school reunion. I had only one purpose being there this time: You.
Gaslighting: Selling a Piece of Your Soul.
He cannot hide his anger now. He tells you you are trying to turn him into a woman, to emasculate him. That you are wrong. That you are unreasonable. That you are a typical woman. That you need to change. That good wives compromise. That you should not feel the way you do. That you are ...
The Lie of Perfection in a Shattered Society.
I completely fell apart watching that sweet boy Omran being pulled from the rubble of an airstrike in Syria. The way he sat and silently stared, god, my chest hurts just thinking about him. I was useless for hours. I fell apart again recently learning what the TPP is. Seeing the viciousness of ...
Here’s To The Flawed And Imperfect Mothers.
Here’s to the incredibly humbling, poignant and wild ride that is motherhood.
A People-Pleaser No More.
No more ringlets, pink cheeks and phony smiles bullshit. We owe it to ourselves, to our sisters, to our repressed grandmothers, to our mothers and to our daughters. We owe it to our fathers, to our brothers, to our husbands and to our sons to stand in our strength and shine like a massive ...
On Days Like This: Finding Courage Amidst Despair.
Though I always initially resist when she shows up, despair has taught me so much about silence, about the virtue of moving slowly, about doing tasks for the doing itself, not just for the completion. She has shown me the depth of my courage, but the greatest of all of despair's lessons is the ...
The Surrender House: Come And Rest, Weary Traveler.
We may abide together according to the gentle ebb and flow of the passing days. I make no demands of you. We are old friends, you and I. In a childhood long since forgotten, you once blossomed and flourished here. Your innocent laughter joyously echoed from my walls. Your carefree bare ...
The Winds Of Rebellion: Love’s Uprising.
Can you find the willingness to sail into the mystery of the unknown?
An Astounding Lucid Confusion.
Some days, stillness is my guide, leading me down the gentle middle way where decisions are not made but followed, life is allowed to unfold as it will, and my own confusions are met with compassion and understanding.