This is not a poem.

This is not a poem.
This is just me trying to figure something out.
I don't like to feel jealous. In fact when I get jealous I also feel ashamed of myself. I know that I should be happy for the person that has something that I'd like to have, for the person that experiences something that I'd like to experience, or the person that just has things easier than I do. I know that we all walk our own paths and that to bring things into your life that you want you have to do it yourself. But every once in a while it seems to me that some people just lived charmed lives. They just get stuff. How do they do it? And why doesn't that happen to me? And then if I stop and really think about it, there is probably plenty in their lives that they don't want or don't enjoy too. It just isn't obvious to me. Who knows what inner struggles other people have? Even you, reading this...you can't really understand what it feels like to feel my emotions to the degree that I myself feel them. I can try to paint a vivid picture with these words, but I will never know if I've fully succeeded. I want alot more in life than I have. But to be perfectly honest, I probably could have more if I really wanted it. Do I really want more than I have? Sure, I'd like to travel more. I'd like to have a larger salary. I'd like to have a bigger home. I'd like to have opportunities to expand my horizons. But, in reality, the person that keeps me from those things is really me. I could work harder. I could be more frugal. I could live in the moment a little more than I do. I could continue my education and get a degree. That might open some doors. I could find ways to travel. I could have pretty things. I could go on life affirming trips. I could get out of my jealous mood and have the things I covet. So that is probably where the shame comes from, from knowing that I'm not being who I want to be. I want to be happy for others and I want to be inspired by them. And usually I am. It is just now and then that jealousy rears it's ugly head and clouds my judgment. So, next time I feel jealous, I'll have this to read. And I'm hoping that it works things out for me, the way it just did. It's okay to want things for yourself, as long as you are willing to be honest and do the work to get those things. It is not okay to feel bad for yourself that you don't have something nice if you have the ability to achieve it. It is a good thing to be surrounded by people who do more and succeed. This shows me that it can be done. And then all I have to do is decide if I want to do or have it too. Because if I do, I can. And sometimes, if we really evaluate the things we are jealous of and the "rights and responsibilities" of having those things, we might realize that we don't really want that part. I'm thinking about a bigger, better, job here. Do I really want to be stressed out and on edge with a job with more responsibility and more liability. Probably not. The paycheck would be good, but I might not be cut out for a different lifestyle. So maybe a little jealousy once in a while is actually a useful thing. It can be a catalyst to change. A reminder that we have to be aware of opportunities and challenges. That we have to be aware of ourselves and our needs and wants and our own limitations and strengths. I'm not going to beat myself up over this. I was comparing apples and oranges. And everyone knows that nothing rhymes with Orange. :)

tattoo

words dribble down your shoulder blade
rememberance, of something that once meant the world to you?
you tried to stop time
you put a memory on your body
but you can't see it where you put it
behind you
in the past still
not to be repeated
only remembered when someone asks
in summertime
when skin and words are exposed
what did you say and what did it mean?
who are you now and what does that verse invoke?
can you travel back in time?
to innocence?
to guilt?
to that day?
to that feeling?
to that tattoo?



(This is an actual bar napkin. I was writing about a girl that was sitting several stools away from me. She has a tattoo of what looked like a poem or lyrics on her right shoulder blade. I never talked to her. But I was curious about the tattoo. I'm sure that plenty of people have asked her about it. I often wonder how people feel about strangers asking them about their tattoos. Some are so obvious but I am sure that many others have very sentimental and personal meanings.)

Kevin The Afternoon Guy

Hey Kev,
 Sharlene here. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry that I didn't come and see you last time I was in Connecticut. I was up there visiting my family. I knew you were hosting an open mic night. I think it was in Cromwell. I hadn't run into you in a long time. The last time we spoke on the phone was one of us saying to the other.."hey, sorry..it's not gonna work out this time." I'm sure I said I'd pop into wherever you were going to be doing the dj thing or hosting next time I was around. We weren't that close you and I, but I've known you for years. And it was always nice to run into you. I wish I had made more of an effort last time. Now, it's weird. Your "going away" party is going to be next week and I'll be in Connecticut, but I won't be able to make it because my little brother is having surgery that day.
 All this has really made me sad. It seems that we as humans, friends, always think, "hey I'll see you next time".  Well, now there will not be a next time.
 Remember that time that I was in Connecticut by myself some random summertime when you were still hosting at the bar on the riverside in Hartford. I didn't know you would be there. I was looking for Kim. Last I'd heard she was working there part time. Turns out she wasn't working there anymore but I saw you on stage and stuck around for awhile. We had a great time. You could really make a person feel at ease.
 And then, way before that, there was a night that I ran into you because my shift had been cut. I'd been working in Hartford. It was a slow night and they didn't need me. I went into the dark basement bar on Asylum Street. I don't know the name of it. But you were there with Gina Crash. The three of us hung out for a few hours. You were always somewhere doing something.
 I'm glad that I met you. I remember when you were working at WILI and Roger took me to the station to meet you. It was late at night. You showed us the studio and put on an extra long song so you could come outside and smoke and visit with us.
 And then when Roger and I were breaking up and you told me that the pain would pass. That he did love me. That we just weren't right at that time. It really helped.
 You are a good guy. You sure did live life to the fullest. I remember seeing you onstage at a Radio 104 Earth Day celebration in the park in Hartford. In KTAG uniform. Khaki shorts, flip flops, denim shirt, bandana. You really had a blast when you had the spot light. Microphone in hand.
 You had a really nice smile when it was the real smile and not the crazy face. But crazy face was part of the performer. And performer you certainly could be.
 I know that many people are saying some great things about you and sharing stories on your facebook page. It really is nice to see all that outpouring of emotion and memories. I just hope that all those people didn't say "hey I'll catch him next time" like I did. I hope that you were happy in your life and I hope that the performer in you wasn't hiding the real you from the people nearest to you. Like I said we haven't been in touch in a long-long time, so I don't know what lifes been like recently.
 I really do hope that this new gig, the one the "going away" party is for, will bring you all the peace, happiness, beer, beach, and Jaeger you want.
 See ya next time,
Shar

Fashion

I began in knits and cotton
woven carefully to be soft and gentle on my skin
I moved to jersey and sweats
and stretchy pants
I grew into denim and leather
I graduated into cashmere and silk
I decided knits were king again
I took it back and deserved Cashmere
and now it doesn't matter what I wear
as long as it is comfortable and reflects my mood
my style has become a reflection of me and not my age
and now that I'm here I want to be ageless
but rompers don't work and mini skirts aren't what they used to be
and short shorts are risque
what ever shall I wear?!


all rights reserved.

January

new beginnings
in cold days
and colder nights
with decorations bright
and champagne toasts
and dancing through the night
do we celebrate the end of the last
or the beginning of the next
suspended in time
we wonder what the next year brings
and then we sing
we should always sing










all rights reserved..ST

seasons

The heavy heat of summer

That keeps you low to the ground

And slow to move

Submerging bodies in water at every opportunity

Sometimes forcing heads under water

That heat that makes the body search for shade

That heat that makes even the breeze heavy and wet

Has finally broken.



The sun still shines and forces sensitive eyes to hide behind shaded lenses

But the heat is slowly going

Allowing the earth to cool

Allowing the breeze to refresh

As the air gets crisper

We find ourselves missing the heat

Knowing that soon a cold will creep in



A cold that gets into bones

And chaps hands and bodies

And forces them into cocoons of wool and nylon

A cold that seems too harsh to be temporary

The kind that submerges bodies in seas of blankets

Unwilling to leave their dens

But then it too breaks

And the heat creeps back



    all rights reserved Sharlene Thornton

Haunting Woman

Her voice fit her like the satin gown she wore


Sliding sexily around all the curves of her body

Surrounding her in a smoke colored liquid shine

She held her head high but not too high

The curve of her neck was provocative

Her hair was the color of maturing honey

It fell in curls around her forehead where it escaped

The chignon

That elegant hairstyle that this event dictated

Her tall frame was exaggerated by the delicately heeled shoes she wore

She carried nothing

And she looked as though she never needed anything

She was soft but striking in this light

The candle light and mirrors reflected her beauty to the whole room

No one knew her

Many wondered who she was

But no one dared to ask

Her laugh was like the tinkling of crystal glasses

Her aura was that of mystery

She left before anyone knew who she was

An angel from the elegant past

Visiting again the place of her final toast

 
 
all rights reserved: Sharlene Thornton