I've been thinking a lot about my wife lately. Women don't get enough credit for what they do in this world, and good women are especially underappreciated. If I had to break it down, here's how I would assess my performance in terms of giving my wife the proper recognition she deserves:
70% of the time - I'm too focused on things that matter to me (my fantasy baseball team, nachos) to be attuned to the things that matter to her (me not watching my fantasy baseball team, spending more time with the kids).
15% of the time - I'm pulling my weight around the house (because I'm a freak like that) and it puts her to ease somewhat, but it's not a recognition of what she had to go through that made the house look like that in the first place.
10% of the time - I'm giving her guff for one thing or another - totally missing the point of being an understanding counterpart.
and
5% of the time - I'm sweet, helpful, anticipating her needs and giving her the break she needs. This goes on for only a short time before she figures out (rightly, more often than not) that I'm going to try to have sex later.
At any rate, I was thinking about her and I remembered a poem that I wrote for her. It is called "Finding Myself With Calista".
The smile is iridescent,
it gleams inside my dreams.
The eyes are crystal pirouettes
that blend as crystal streams.
The lips are melting invitations
luring me away…
from every bleak reality
that interrupts my day.
But pitfalls of mortality
depress my earnest soul.
At times the pangs of weakness
separate me from my goal.
But then your angel countenance
shines through me, to my core
I marvel and I cry inside
for thanks, for love, for more.
Recall the night I heard one voice,
and knew our lives were meant.
One brief encounter with my God,
one earthy monument
to you, and us, and every day,
my constant motivation.
Just like your radiating smile
that ends all resignation.
And so our lives are etched in time
with histories unknown.
We have no start and have no end
and yet we both have grown.
Like Dali’s wristwatch melting
in the fire of timeless sun,
our union is impervious
and has only just begun.
I really hope Juan Pierre has a good series against the Braves this week because I need the stolen bases...
70% of the time - I'm too focused on things that matter to me (my fantasy baseball team, nachos) to be attuned to the things that matter to her (me not watching my fantasy baseball team, spending more time with the kids).
15% of the time - I'm pulling my weight around the house (because I'm a freak like that) and it puts her to ease somewhat, but it's not a recognition of what she had to go through that made the house look like that in the first place.
10% of the time - I'm giving her guff for one thing or another - totally missing the point of being an understanding counterpart.
and
5% of the time - I'm sweet, helpful, anticipating her needs and giving her the break she needs. This goes on for only a short time before she figures out (rightly, more often than not) that I'm going to try to have sex later.
At any rate, I was thinking about her and I remembered a poem that I wrote for her. It is called "Finding Myself With Calista".
The smile is iridescent,
it gleams inside my dreams.
The eyes are crystal pirouettes
that blend as crystal streams.
The lips are melting invitations
luring me away…
from every bleak reality
that interrupts my day.
But pitfalls of mortality
depress my earnest soul.
At times the pangs of weakness
separate me from my goal.
But then your angel countenance
shines through me, to my core
I marvel and I cry inside
for thanks, for love, for more.
Recall the night I heard one voice,
and knew our lives were meant.
One brief encounter with my God,
one earthy monument
to you, and us, and every day,
my constant motivation.
Just like your radiating smile
that ends all resignation.
And so our lives are etched in time
with histories unknown.
We have no start and have no end
and yet we both have grown.
Like Dali’s wristwatch melting
in the fire of timeless sun,
our union is impervious
and has only just begun.
I really hope Juan Pierre has a good series against the Braves this week because I need the stolen bases...
7 comments:
now that's a good entry. Maybe MAYBE now you could get more traffic than me. Well probably not, but I did love that.
Your post made me blush. I love you too.
I can't believe Cali didn't give you a twister for talking about your sex life online.
joey i didn't know you had a blog! and that was a great entry.
wow I even have a tear that was an amazing entry I'm sending ryan to read this-nena
Hi Nena. Thanks for your comment, glad you liked it. Your blog is great, by the way.
I just recently discovered your blog.
Your poetry has been my favorite! I'm sorry I haven't had a good visit with you for so long...too short of visits, too far in between. Hope to see you at the reunion soon.
Aunt Tami
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