These Words Are My Diary, Screaming Out Loud

The Acrobat Man
First comes the light show:
A flickering here, then there...
a serene scene that leaves you in awe,
distracting your eyes.
Second, the shock:
The awful, exciting surprise
that freezes your spine, mouth open wide
and making a noise that cannot be yours.
Then comes the finale:
The acrobat flies!
Over the flickering lights, and the
corn-stalk audience
onto the pavement
into my arms,
into my tears:
Fin.

If you want to know the backstory: http://nikkiandsailboats.blogspot.com/2010/09/sometimes-you-just-need-to-talk-about.html

Oh, You Should Have Heard Them.

El Aire

Stark naked, a soul bearing all

stands, trembling, in the cold sliver of

a winter's moon.

Freed from its breathing shell,

from behind the heavy, weak beat

beat, beating bars -

escaping in final, long exhales

while the winter's moon vainly tries

to clothe the naked,

to feed the hungry soul with its luminescence.

Stark naked, a soul bearing all

stands, starving, in the cold sliver of

a winter's moon.

Fading slowly into night,

a soul discovers that moonlight is food for fireflies -

and while life is short

death is shorter.

The Juggling Comes to an End Now

Where are You From?

I am from grey carpet
white walls
and black furniture.
Airports and changing time zones,
passports and checked bags,
a family of nomads is where I'm from.

I am from BDU's
and MRE's
and TDY's
and OPSEC
and the DoDEA.

I am from "Yes sir"
and "No running in the house"
and "Don't hit your sister"
and "Happiness is a choice"
and "Have you seen my hamster?"

I am from footpaths to
ship rides to
covered wagons
to a new Dodge Nitro.
England, Denmark, Pacheco, Blanding,
Stuttgart, Wurzberg, Zama, San Angelo,
San Pedro, Sagamihara, Syracuse,
Logan,
Minneapolis is where I'm from.

I am from enchiladas, taco salad
Spaghetti, sloppy joes, ice cream
and sandwiches
Hold the gluten, please.

I am from daddy daughter dates
and perpetual nick names:
Ray, Don, Ron, Jon, Nikki.
I am from long walks across great plains
and longer walks across dangerous deserts.
Pioneers
Soldiers
Unwavering Mothers and Wives
A family of Heroes
That's where I'm from.

Protect the Child

I was Little Red Riding Hood.
I was running from your bare teeth,
your maniacal grin,
your raspy voice:
“I'm going to get you, little girl.”

I was Little Red Riding Hood.
I was hiding from your harsh hands,
your insatiable hunger,
your watering mouth:
“I'm going to gobble you up.”

I was Little Red Riding Hood.
I was naïve enough to trust you,
your cold heart,
and even colder words:
“This is all your fault.”

I was Little Red Riding Hood,
running through woods of worry.
There was no axe-man to save me.
You're still out there

and she will be Little Red Riding Hood.

My Ridiculous Fall Poems

Shake It, Leaf
The leaves dance around us
A vigorous waltz, a rapid foxtrot, an emotional tango
the wind as their beat, deciding which direction they will go
down the sidewalk, through the crowds, on the roof, in the gutter
fancy dances that fly through air and leave on snowy clouds.

The Apple
I have been waiting for you.

It was you I was thinking of
on the hot days
on the cold days
when I was thirsty
or when I could not get out of the rain.

I have been waiting for you.

It was you I was thinking of
when I was green
with the pain of growing
and when I was reddened
unsheltered from the suns hot rays.

I have been waiting for you,
so please
pick me.

The Wedding Blog

I am getting married on June 16, 2012 to a really handsome fella. He's 6'2, with broody eyes and ravishing good looks. His name is Matt and he is my best friend.

But, you all already know that. This blog is not about my deep and undying love for Matt - I have written plenty of those :)
No. This is the frilly, girly, I am sooo getting married entry.

Prepare yourself.



This is the kind of invitation we want to mimic (with our own names, of course). I being a book nerd and desperately in love with this idea.



This is the center piece idea (of course, I will put my own twist on it...and I can hardly wait).



This is the bridesmaid dress (it comes in two styles)!! They love it, I love it, its practical and affordable. Hooray!



This is our venue. Yep! THIS is where we are getting married, and it's beautiful. We are so happy with our venue that we can hardly stand it.



What's that, dear reader? Oh. Yes. I know. This is not a temple. I don't care :) It is my wedding. I will do what I want. Don't like it? don't come....and I don't mean that in a rude way.



It's really beautiful, and surprisingly affordable.

These are the beads I want to wear on my head:


And this is the bouquet I will (make) have....:


As for the rest, it is still in progress....but you can bet that more is yet to come.

And now, to address the topic of my marrying a nonmember: There is a stigma that if you marry outside of the temple, you will not have a happy life. For some reason, some people who are married in the temple or plan to marry in the temple are of the opinion that non-LDS or partially-LDS families do not love each other, their kids, their friends or themselves are much as a temple-wedded couple. This stigma has always bothered me. Why is this such a common opinion in the church? I have met many a non-member family that love their kids and spouses just as much as (if not more than) a temple-sealed family.

I have seen temple wedded families fall victim to abuse and divorce, just like non-temple wedded families. I have seen eternally sealed families go through the motions of the temple marriage, without truly believing it...it's just a chore on their "to-do to get to Heaven" list.

If people don't value the experience or try to keep the covenants they make, then it isn't valid anyway. So, no. I'm not sad or unhappy that I'm not getting married in the temple.

I am marrying a man who loves and respects me, and who will love and care for our children. A man with no vices, and a man with faith. I'm marrying a great man. And, no, you do not have to be Mormon to be great.

The Dilemma

I can't help but feel it, that guilty feeling. That feeling that I'm forcing people to go out of their way to accomodate an invisible illness. I can't help but wonder, "Do people exhale a sigh of relief if I decide not to join them for dinner?" Do they feel like a burden has been lifted because they don't have to "eat like me"?

I can't help but wonder, "Do people prefer if I don't go on a trip with them?" They can pack tortillas and bread into their backpacks as they head into the mountains, not a care in the world. Crackers, beef jerky, licorice, granola bars. Do they feel guilty for packing those things if I join them?

Why?

I do not care if you pack a sandwich. I do not care if you order pizza for dinner. I do not envy your powerbar. I do not miss the tortillas. My feelings are not hurt if you eat the cinnamon roll.

I don't change my eating habits for you. Why would I expect you to change your eating habits for me?

But...I can't help but wonder:

Would my parents prefer I skip Thanksgiving, so they don't feel obligated to the the wheat-less stuffing?
Do people prefer it when I decline their invitations for dinner, because they can more fully enjoy themselves?
Is it easier if I just don't eat at all?
Do people think I'm defected?
Should I pretend to eat that cookie so people don't know?
Should I just not say anything next time?
Is it okay that I write this blog?
Who am I making uncomfortable with my dilemma?
Do people think I'm just picky?
Is it okay if I don't want to pick the restaurant because I don't want this to rule my life?
Is it okay if I just eat where you want to eat? I usually make do.
Would my friends prefer I don't bring snacks to share with the class?
Is my food really all that bad tasting?
Why are people afraid to eat their food in front of me?
Why do they apologize when they eat in front of me?

I'm not starving. I'm not drooling. I'm not even desiring: that food hurts me. I don't want it. I'm not sorry I can't eat it.
I can't help but wonder:

Whose dilemma is this? It's certainly not mine.