Goodbye, 2003

The Review

This was an even better year than last. I launched three of my own Web sites, performed original songs at two separate house concerts, discovered that I indeed have a songwriting partner in my Sweetie, visited Chicago and New York again, got a raise and tons more. To top it off, I went to a glorious performance of Beethoven's Ninth at the Blaisdell last night and plan to sneak in a glass of champagne sometime before the stroke of midnight tonight. I had much to be thankful for this year and feel that I got more than my fair share of blessings. I don't take a thing for granted.

The Prayer

Dear God, I still fear you. I know you see and understand. Help me to love others. I almost forgot what it was like to hear the words, "Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you." Haven't done that just yet, but I'm working on it. I'm still in the process of realizing how pissed I am at people from my past, but will get to it as soon as that phase is over.

The Hope

What do I have to look forward next year? I won't predict a thing. It's never as you expect. Just bracing for another ride.

Posted by ruth at December 31, 2003 12:34 PM

Downtown Crowd

They continue to eat at chic downtown restaurants, wearing Ann Taylor office suits and Donna Karan hose, sprinkling "God" into the conversation over chicken Caesar salads.

They couldn't rescue Naomi from the periphery and seem indifferent over her transformation into a passing thought. She asked me to have lunch with her. I agreed. But today I cringe. Behind my electric blue eyeshadow is a soul who will not see what she may too delightfully describe.

 Posted by ruth at November 06, 2003 12:30 PM

Big Picture

My stomach is turning and turning. Why does the universe allow people like her to win? There's something eerie that clouds this place.

Posted by ruth at September 17, 2003 10:09 AM

The Waitress

Maybe I try so hard to help her become an artist because I was too scared to become one myself.

I watch as the hours of work dwindle to nothing for her and understand how she has to prepare cheap home meals to make ends meet. She's thinking about becoming a waitress, and I plead her to find ways to get paid doing design. But she tells me, "I have to survive."

"Would you like something to drink?" she'll ask them, then return, placing glasses onto tabletops with a masterful hand.

Posted by ruth at September 17, 2003 10:27 AM

Comments

She's alive!
Posted by: One Bad Pig on September 20, 2003 01:13 AM

You know, Mitchell, I think it's been too long, and I have forgotten what it was like to feel the rawness of life and just live.
You don't know how much I needed that reminder. Perfect timing.
Posted by: ruth on September 22, 2003 04:49 PM

Turning Pillow

a midnight tear
for your fear
and indecision
and how they may
drive me
to one morning
wake up
in my own bed
knowing that I can
never
climb back
into yours


Posted by ruth at September 11, 2003 06:44 PM

Heartbeat

There are too many people dying, and so much of it seems wrong.

In the balance, is this how it supposed to be,

For the world to lose and gain

By whatever means available to lose or gain?

People enter pleas into the sea of discourse

And the headlines don't change.

Today I am weary.

I want to curl into a couch under your arms and onto your chest,

Hear the sound of each heartbeat

Announce the birth of one

And the death of another.

Posted by ruth at July 18, 2003 11:10 AM

The Dancefloor

I walk onto the dancefloor
When the song begins
And off when it ends
Then on again when it begins
The off again when it ends
I walk onto the dancefloor
When the song begins
And off when it ends
Then on again when it begins
The off again when it ends
I walk onto the dancefloor
When the song begins
And off when it ends
Then on again when it begins
The off again when it ends
I walk onto the dancefloor
When the song begins
And off when it ends
Then on again when it begins
The off again when it ends

Posted by ruth at July 02, 2003 07:31 PM