Tag Archives: Forgiveness

Bedevil


art jenny liz.jpg

It’s your birthday month.  Will someone bring on the Bacardi rum?  I no longer feel the sun since you’ve been gone.

 

I want you to trouble me, puzzle, muscle and rebuttal me.  I want you to disturb me, discern, immerse and return to me.  I want you to haunt me, taunt, flaunt and want me.

 

I think I found love with you.  I spoke to mourning doves about you.  I swear I found a home with you.  I even ask the honeycomb on my altar about you.

 

I think I found wholesomeness with you.  I’ve been at homelessness without you.  I swore I kissed the skies when I was with you.  I even ask my thighs why they cry now that I’m without you.

 

You put a love inside me I can’t get rid of and at times, you were my antidepressant drug, the one I sometimes dream of handcuffed, strangely enough.

 

I’ve been cold since we both disappeared.  I haven’t found my heart in two years.  Won’t you appear with your childlike light in my sullen atmosphere?

 

I had a boyfriend who cared about me but he came with his own limits, his own gimmicks and every minute he’s attempting to disguise low spirits with a million cigarettes.

 

He’s nothing like you and you’re nothing him and that’s just one problem.  You barely came with conditions or superstitious wishes, but you were the warmth and blood to my heart even when it rocked bottom.

 

And I look to the sky and I ask why.  I look far and I look wide and the answers were because I cried honesty rather than decide to spend the night with pride.  You made me work for forgiveness like I was some damn spy.

 

What if I asked you to send for me?  What if I asked for your body?  What if I admitted to my monstrosity?  What if every fear we own were given to prophecy?  Would it change the divinity of possibility?

 

I can’t forget the first glance that cemented our song and dance.  I can’t clean the scent of your home from my hands.  I can’t eradicate the taste of you from my throat glands.

 

What if I still loved you beyond this distance and chip on my shoulder?  How am I to know when my heart froze that last time in October when my entire life as I knew was over?

 

And if I show up at your door, will you come?

 

Trouble me.

Disturb me.

Haunt me.

 

-Pennington

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Family, Exposure & Monogamy


Somewhere between the age of twenty-nine and thirty I’ve learned to stop being super strong mentally and to stop being selfish when it comes to people who may not love me in the way common people hold on to their ideal definition of what it’s like to be family.  But things are what they are.  Many times it’s better if one understood sooner than later:  It’s okay to cutoff the systematic approach of over-complicating your life just because you FEEL it’s important or at the very least are filled with bottomless need of something (anything) to continually complain about because it consists of your selfishness and attachment to life.

The thing that bugs me out is how I had the type of childhood where I couldn’t wait to grow the fuck up.  So by the time I made it out my teenage years I ran away from my family as far as I fucking could hoping to deny who, what and where I came from.  (But never to the extent of my pathological liar brother who’s so shameful he tells everyone he’s from Greece.)  At first it was spectacular and I forgot somebody’s sperm and somebody’s egg created me.  In the middle of my twenties I had the hardest time forgiving my family when it was me I needed to forgive.  FUCK THEM!

Than some time last year until the present I realized just how much I’ve missed out on everybody else’s life like my one cousin who was shot 7 times by another man’s envy yet survived somehow.  Or how my other cousin has now been diagnosed with being bipolar and schizophrenic ever since he spaced the fuck out and shat in the living room of his house and started to finger-paint.  Then came my grandfather’s multiple heart attacks and aunt’s breast cancer.

Still what throws me for the biggest loop is catching up with my family brings me back to the thought of “Holy shit!  So I’m REALLY am a part of this dysfunctional family” especially when we started to share sex stories.  My aunt M (scratch that!) everyone in my family talks openly about sex in a way that is just like breathing air along with casual humor.

She starts out by saying how her last relationship was horrible and had to end it because the guy didn’t know how to fuck let alone eat pussy.  Than my mother chimed in with, “Why didn’t you teach him?”  “Aye no!  I don’t like teaching.”  I butted in, patted my mother on the back with a chuckle and said, “Well on my end it must be genetics.”  We all laughed, until my mother killed it by saying “My daughter must be the same good lover as me.”  ><

I can’t deny what lacks or breeds within me.  I’m bound by blood and shit.  Yeah, I know a lot of everything happens to be about exposure, and of course, about the very things we frequently collect such as our moral codes.  And I’m not sure, entirely why, I feel like speaking about this, except for the fact that it’s in the forefront of my mind but:  Monogamy.

Some people believe in it and others don’t.  Either way I believe it stems (typically and/or sometimes) from our introduction at home and no matter how anybody makes it seem Monogamy is a Personal Choice (and unnatural ;)).  Monogamy and I don’t get along simply because I look at this word and the baggage it comes with as a matter of possession, not of love or kindness.  And growing up I didn’t have anyone to help me look at it otherwise (nor do I want to at this point in time :D).

In my family, every single person I’m aware of cheats on their partner, spouse, lover, boyfriend, girlfriend with someone at some point of their lives whether they believed they had a good reason for it or not.  The other day I was telling my nonexclusive partner once again:  How I rather be in an open-relationship than the closed one we used to share for the thousand time.   And I used the story my aunt M told everyone in the kitchen to prove the point of why I feel I am the way that I am:  Her son (who’s her favorite by the way) calls her daily on the phone to speak about how he met someone (WHO IS NOT HIS WIFE) who has the fattest ass.

M never mentioned whether he’s already being unfaithful but goes on to say, “I can’t tell him he shouldn’t cheat or mess around with other girls.  He’s just twenty-three years old and married young with an 8-month year old baby.  He needs to experience and have his adventures.  But I tell him he has to delete all the text messages he sends out and receives quickly because his wife who’s already insecure about herself will leave him and she’ll never let me see my grandson again..especially if she found out I was giving him this kind of advice.”

I always felt that before you get into a “closed” relationship with anyone you should learn as much as possible about where their family comes from and what their core values are and what their culture reflects and yada yada yada.  Example:  I dated a Chinese man years ago and never knew I was dating an entire custom so deep that behind my back his toxic family would set him up on dinner dates with Chinese women for an arrange marriage in the near future.

Another important factor is just how great or poor their parenting skills are in terms of these great examples that are not to be taken likely and based on true stories:  Are they the kind of parents to help their children get away with actual murder, such as allowing their son/daughter to pass HIV to their current partner even though the entire family knows about it?  Or are they the type of parents who want the best for their children and actually guide them slightly into leading a fulfilling life with their girlfriend/boyfriend, but have enough decency to never personally conflict their own lives?

Lastly, no matter how much your husband/boyfriend or wife/girlfriend claims to not get along with their parents (like me!) children (no matter how old we become) tend to shadow their first little-known role-models.  It’s hard to be something we aren’t when we primarily are created in our parents image (or whoever we grew up with).  To avoid a situation like the story above (in a sense) it helps to know where your partner came/comes from because (more than likely – unless they experienced a traumatic experience that takes them completely out from who they were) that’s where they’re heading.  Unless again, you come from my family and it’s unfaithful exposure where it’s AUTOMATICALLY AND LITERALLY ENCOURAGED TO HAVE AN AFFAIR/CHEAT.

I’m not saying I condone awful behavior like cheating on your significant other and hope the secrets you’re busy covering up won’t catch up to you (because they will).  What I am saying is I have an understanding and a knack for why people decide to make the personal choice of being mindfully faithless according to the in’s and out’s of my family.  Key word:  Exposure.

Thoughts are welcome.

-Penn

My Number Zero War Hero



If you’ll have me in your care again, with open arms, you would perform the greatest charm.  Like lips that are chapped, you’re my balm.  Like an faithful follower, you’re my psalm.  I’m water misbehaving.  But like the calm mood of wind only you can save me.  I’m everything and more:  Your war lady.

I’d really love to nuzzle my head in your chest to feel once again what it’s like to be loved by the best.  I crave the feel of your heavy world, how your heartbeats talk in my ear with kindness of rhythm and love and breath.  Honey if you ever leave, I’d have nothing left.

Caress my strands and brush them with forgiveness.  With you, it’s vivid how within every minute I’ve been swept like the many times before.  Like how you picked me up and out of my own living debt of death.  It’s true you’re my safety net.

Take me please and erase the other man’s residue from my body and matte hair.  Only you can fire my soul bare.  Only you can send the rays of light and care of flirty bounce to my tresses with loving prayers.  You clean my air.  Nothing else will ever compare.

How could I ever leave you?
My true love.
My number zero war hero.
I shed my clues in every breakthrough.

Who would take me with all my imperfections?
Who would study my micro expressions?
Who would love me in my dark sections?

You see and love me in all my
Twisted infinite perfections.

-Pennington

Just Roll With It: Love?



I’ve done the taking back of my emotional loyalty, which is definitely not to be confused with emotional outbursts.  These outbursts are what has long been the breaking points of dealing with the same person day in and day out without any true change in behaviors.

Think stone cold resentment.

Can a person forgive and forget?
Or do they only choose to forgive?
As they lie on their back completely open
With regrets on never forgetting?

What about the snaky image?  The pesky perception you can’t drive, not even to bump over the road?  Is this the smell of fear?  The rotten insecurities that halt your progress of personal growth and wanting to make it all up to the person you can’t live without?

I don’t speak of I silly.  Of you.

But it’s that conversation I start, the same exact about you.
Where I ask you something like, “What steps are you taking to achieve what need be?”
And you respond with three words:  “What about you?”
With the snakebite of defense mechanism.

The bitching, the moaning, the nonstop bickering.  It’s never over anything significant.  I hear the same old.  There isn’t anything at the least bit striking, but the same old.  So he doesn’t like the men or boys I play with regularly in my life.  Yet makes the same jokes, opening the same wounds with those exact men in my life.

There’s nothing humorous about pain.
Not the lies.  Not the cover.

Wanting to believe what comes out a person’s mouth is as simple as the action executed.

What’s to say about the anti-social person, who must learn how to deal and communicate with someone who has already covered a lot of ground experience?

There are some people who get mad at themselves for being in a relationship too long.  I know how this feels.  But the remedy is in learning the mistakes you made yesterday are for a better place in a wiser tomorrow.

-Pennington