My stolen grandmother

She sat in the sunshine gazing across the yard into her past. She spoke of her memories as though they happened today. But she does not recognize my face.

Ghost of a Whisper

I put a picture in my mind,
the one I loved so, you by the window blind.
When I see it I try to remember that that beautiful smile and love in your eyes was never mine,
not mine.
It was her -you were looking at, not me,
not ME.
Another picture.
It's you and her standing before the forest in the snow.
Look closely, your arms holding her tenderly, and I remember that your arms never held me,
no not me.
Those pictures are in my mind now.
I am trying to hold on to them and keep them in front of me now.
I tell myself that you are there in your flat with her, not me, not with me.
Do you understand?...

I will never hurt you...
When you came back that night to ask me not to hurt her,
I knew then that you don't know me,
not me.
This is my farewell, my last love letter to you.
I know you won't read it, and I'm glad
'Cause I don't ever want to feel that I have betrayed you.  (Like her)
Of course you don't know me, we're only strangers who met by chance.
I'll go back to my life.
I won't wake from dreams of you in the mornings, hoping to see your face.
I won't sit for hours, hoping for a glimpse of you.
I won't wear my purple sweater, just to hear you ask me- I hate that sweater!
I will not linger over your memory, or think of you in the shower.
I will not imagine your arms around me as I sleep.
I will not hope for you, I will not,
not me.

You will become as a ghost to me,
a whisper of a dream I never had.

Do you understand?.....

Just a whisper of a dream I never had
A ghost of a whisper of a dream I never had

The History of My Heart (Conclusion) by Victoria Meyers (28 of 30)

The history of my heart concludes with hope and longing for the future.

It doesn't really conclude because it still beats here in my chest.

Though it flutters from time to time, it shudders from the memories and the damages and ravages of time.

Still here it beats, inside a great black hole in my chest and the hollow thudding echoes in my bones and my steps.

This heart is weary but not worn out. Resting but not yet done. Perhaps it can find the strength to love another again? Not now, not soon, but maybe.

For now this heart is learning, to love me. Learning to uncover the truth in a memory and the harsh cold reality without breaking. I feed it with self loathing, and memories, and dreams purged from my guts and re-digested truths.

It trembles and quivers with pain and exhaustion. Yet still it beats.

Each new day the tide changes, the burden is lighter. I do not mean to forget the lost ones, who still are trailing my progress.

I will never let them fall further then I can see them, but they are too far to catch me soon.

The history of my heart cannot ever fully conclude alone.

It can end,

Yes; it can stop beating, though it doesn't., even as hard as I have tried to make it stop.

I've pounded at it and even tried to cut it out with a knife.

There it still beats inside that iron box, that great black hole.

My quivering damaged heart begins to glow with hope ever still.  

Prince of Autism (an erasure poem) by Victoria Meyers (23 of 30)

The prince
in the corner of the room
among the shadows
boy
what do you want?
softly
perform a a little test
kind face
appeared suspiciously
hurt
hundreds of times
only free
the boy
glanced toward the prince who remained in the shadows
would you mind?
gesturing a moment
all you want
exactly all you have
still unsure of what was to come

Earth Day (an erasure poem) by Victoria Meyers (22 of 30)

Hands around
slow riser
thermometer
sick medicine
sick medicine
knocking
thunder
contagious
dead
big day
kind
hold hands
peace
saving the earth

My Own Road by Victoria Meyers (21 of 30)

I am in charge of my future
My decisions shape my world
Mistakes I've made
They've changed me
And set me upon a new road
What I learn is my roadmap
My experiences are my journey's log

Stronger now, I know my mind
I'm told that's not who I should be
I know better tho, from my journey
Mistakes I've made
They've changed me
Now set upon my new road
I am the cartographer of my own world

Like a phoenix from the ashes
My feathers shine in glory
As I am now victorious
Against the chains that once bound me
Mistakes I've made
They've changed me
Changed my mind
Am set upon this new road
And only I will chart its path

Sick and Tired by Victoria Meyers (20 of 30)

Sick of the argument and
Sick of the crime
Tired of the abuse and
Tired of the grime

There seems to be no way
To escape this world of pain
Not until the end of days
It's here yet slow to wane

There's a pain crawling under my skin
There's an ache in my joints
It's bearable when I can smile
But when I can't its a
Writhing kind of  misery

Sick and Tired, Sick and Tired
Sick
and Tired

You should Write a Book by Victoria meyers (17 of 30)

You should write a book
I've heard that all my life
Start telling people how many
Places I've lived
How many stupid things I've done
All the different ways I should
Already be dead

Tell them about three abusive husbands
Raising five kids
Going back to school at 29
With five kids at home and a psycho husband
While homeschooling
And running a busy tax office

Talk about how 9/11 made me
Quit school to stay home with my kids
Describe unschooling
Cooking gluten free for picky eaters
All the many weird ways I live my life

Why would anyone want to read
About all that crap?

A Mountain of Mend's by Victoria Meyers (16 of 30)

See you and I girl
We used to be friends
To put it all back
We'd need a mountain of mend's

I can't remember now
How it all went wrong
But I'd give you a stack of nickels
If we could just write a new song

I'd let you sleep all day
If it would help you out
I'd cook all your favorite food
If you could just erase the doubts

We had so many plans
And we were having so much fun
Till you let these pretty boys in
And you went on the run

See you and I girl
We used to be friends
To put it all back
We'd need a mountain of mends

I miss your angel voice
I miss your lightning smile
If I could get them back
I'd walk a million miles

I want to go back
To when we had the plan
To pack up all we'd need
In a dolphin headed for land

'Cause I know
That together we were right
I remember there was nothing stopping us
Before all this fight

See you and I girl
We used to be friends
To put it all back we'd need a mountain of mends

The Self-Fulfilling Party Planner by Victoria Meyers (15 of 30)

I have thrown a lot of parties and get togethers of many different sizes and magnitudes throughout my life. When I was a teen in therapy this fact came out that when I throw a party; no one shows up.  So my therapist took this as a challenge. Whether to prove to me that I must be exaggerating- which admittedly depressed souls will do- or to give me a happy successful party experience to reset my counter - well... I'm not sure.

In any event he required me to plan and throw not just one but two successful parties. That was a stipulation in the assignment - YES - they were to be successful.

So with mixed emotions and some guarded fear I set about to plan the first of the two.

My guests, who were all from an enclosed circle of influence, got wind of the assignment. So as kids tend to like to be mean and against all odds  and even threat of punishment they plotted against me. All of my guests purposely refused to show up. Not only that but even my therapist forgot to come!  And yes, he had been given an invitation; hand-written and hand-delivered like all the rest.

So my life has seemed to continue to follow this path. No matter where in the world my nomadic life has led me, no matter the circle of friends of which I was a member, whenever I have summoned the courage to throw another shindig- with very few exceptions- no one shows up.

But I keep doing it. At one point in my life I even made parties my JOB. Go figure. What could have possessed me? Somehow deep down am I actually doing this to myself? Or am I still trying to utilize the therapeutic direction of my past?

My party career never took off. Self fulfilling prophecies not withstanding- I still throw parties that no one attends.

Today I attended a gathering that was thrown together in less then three days. Almost no one received any reminder to attend, much less an invitation at all. Yet there were hundreds in attendance. Family members, old friends, new friends, colleagues, business acquaintances and even dastardly teenagers. Their were spouses and guests who may never even have met the honoree at all.

How could this be? This gathering put together in less then three days for a man who felt so alone and hopeless that he had even taken his own life? The irony is not lost on my. It strikes a cold fear in my heart.
It makes me ask questions that are none of my business, but I wonder...
De he throw parties?
And if he did did he have good attendance?
Maybe he never did throw parties and didn't know how dearly he was loved.
Maybe he did but he forgot?
Maybe its normal for people to ignore you until your dead?
It's a conundrum to me.
But I wonder, will this party failure that I am haunt me even into death?

I wish that he had been able to see how much he was loved. Maybe he would still be with us.

Letter to my Little Self by Victoria Meyers (14 of 30)

Hey little girl,
I remember when you were sitting in your room at your flower table
Coloring with crayons while you sang Elvis, and Eagles and Shawn Cassidy songs
You believed you sounded just like the singers and you sang loud enough to drown them out

Hey little girl,
I remember when you used to spend hours choreographing dances and skits to go along with those same songs
When you would get the other kids to to join in and put on a show for your moms' party friends
I remember how you gave the party goers all tickets and directed them to come to come see the "show" at the designated time.
You had it all figured out and you put on three shows a night- so that no one had to miss out

Hey little girl,
Don't stop dreaming
Life will get hard, and so many, many years will go by that you will forget
You will even forget yourself and who you would have been - before - if they hadn't done all those things to you to knock you off your trajectory
So many years will go by that you will want to give up
In fact you will give up entirely three times before you get back on your path

Hey little girl,
Remember all those things that happen to you not only the good and happy things- but also the ugly nasty and a sad things too
Are the same things that will make you amazing
They will color you music and your poetry and your parenting and your love
With all the empathy that you need to touch the hearts of those who will listen

And little girl,
I'm telling you they will listen one day
And you will smile

Lost Words by Victoria Meyers (13 of 30)

Sunday morning came early
A new day to wash the tears away
I travel down pathways in my memory
Searching for song lyrics long lost
The lilt of my song haunts me
But my damaged brain keeps holding out

These old purged words that are lost to me now
Ghosts of the past in my today
I remember the times when I wrote them
Black bird flies away
To a door on the far side of the sky

Woe to you who don't take a serious view
To the art of your words today
Because tomorrow they could be gone
And believe me when I tell you
You will ache for their loss

Thoughts flit in and out as I write
My brain is a sponge that is drying
The moisture my thoughts, my words my poems, my songs
Drying out

This final repetition of a faded glory.
Falls flat as I rest my boots
While little birds and blackbirds
Both fly away and when they go
They take your heart and soul with them

This Little Girl by Victoria Meyers (7 of 30)

This little girl, she had it all
This little girl, set herself up to fall
This little girl, she thinks life's hard
This little girl, wants to draw a brand new card

Who am I to tell her she's wrong?
What makes me so special?
Do I really know she's gonna throw it all away?

Oh yeah. Oh yeah, I do

Once I was this little girl, but I had nothing much
One I was this little girl, seeking a man's touch
Once I was this little girl but life didn't give me hope
Once I was this little girl till I ended up at the end of my rope

Who am I to tell her she's wrong?
What makes me so special?
Do I really know she's gonna throw it all away?

Oh yeah, I do. Oh yeah, I do

Please little girl, turn back from your ways
Please little girl, you don't have to hurt all your days
Please little girl, we all just want to see you smile
Please little girl, please little girl
I just want to see you smile

~This Little Girl by Victoria Meyers

Destination Ride by Victoria Meyers (6 of 30)

Cloudy sky
Rushing cars
Puffing down the road
Rushing to catch a bus
Remember not to step on the old used condom
Bus passes one way, just a breath too late
Cross the street
Wait for it to return
Sit in a rain puddle on the bench
Cold wet butt
Waiting waiting
On the bus now
Stinky, sticky, sweat smells
Smashed inside foggy windows
Melt
Pull the chain, ding the bell
Whoosh the stop
Relief - fresh air
Walking thru the threatened rainy mist
Destination .
Ride

~Destination Ride by Victoria Meyers