~ The Art Of Change ~ with Carol Omer ~

Art and Creativity as Mediums for Empowerment , Connection and Change…

Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

Ode to the Rescuer

Posted by carolom on September 15, 2016

*Updated
This poem is dedicated to the many women, especially those who I meet in domestic violence shelters, who really do believe:

If I just keep on loving him, he will change & we will have the relationship that I know is possible…

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We hear the words “I thought he would change” so often inside of the walls of domestic violence shelters that I created the following dramatisation for our Talking circle so that the group of women who have sometimes had 2 or 3 relationships with violent men, could begin to unravel what keeps them there and how to recognise the pattern.

The following piece is not relevant for all women who leave domestic violence, but for those women who sit in support groups and say “I believed him when he said he would change” and “He is a really nice guy, he just had a rotten childhood”, this piece is for you.
And for Janet who was killed in domestic violence by a man who then killed himself, leaving four beautiful children behind.

Ode to the Rescuer:

There was something very appealing about his pain, it matched her pattern perfectly
and her pattern goes like this:

Give me a damaged man with potential and I will embrace him as my life mission
My personal quest!

I will claim myself to be his Rescuer and through my eyes he will see how sorely he has been denied Love

And with the love of this Good Woman, he will heal!

He will heal
He will heal
He will heal

With the peace of mind that I alone have brought to him, delivered to him on a sincere heart that pulses with conviction, his heart shall finally, after many troubled years finally beat with contentment in symbiotic rhythm with my own

Ahh..this future memory brings tears to my eyes and reminds me to be patient and the reward will come.
Of this truth I have created, I am sure.
He will change
He will change
He will change
I shall interpret his moodiness as poetic brooding,
his sarcasm as merely the shadow of his enormous artistic sensitivities and
his broken promises as the unfortunate repercussions of a busy, preoccupied man.
I shall deny myself my heart’s desires,
less they place too much of a burden on his already busy mind.
I shall desperately seduce him into security with words thinly veiled
with the false reassurance that I want nothing of him
After all he is the broken one
Not me!
I will prove to him that I am the one single woman
on this Earth who can heal his troubled Soul.
Because I believe in him like no other has in the past
or could possibly at any time in the future
As the rescue program gets under way I will slowly begin to allow
the duality of the situation to come to the fore
Actually I won’t have a choice!
Having ensnared him with my rescuers net
or having fallen into his
I shall wrestle with the duality of being drawn to his charismatic withdrawals
whilst also experiencing an awakening awareness
that he is indeed mirroring my own need to heal and rescue the wounded heart.
There is something painfully seductive about that wounded heart after all it’s in all of the fairytales and rom-com’s isn’t it?
Love that Beast fair Beauty for he will come good in the end!
In order to ignore the needs of my own hopeful
desperate
optimistic
aching
wounded heart
I will plunge into my rescuing role with paradox and passion
for I am drawn to the angst of tortured feelings
which I have misconstrued as Romance and Love
as haplessly as he is drawn to his broody silences
and the acidic observations he casts out to bait me every now and then.
And quite regularly at times.
And yes. He has hit me in the past but the degree to which he is so truly deeply sorry overwhlems me with compassion for him.
Every time.
Every single time.
Except the last three times when I only felt fear and loathing,
But I got over that!
Didn’t I?
Didn’t I?

or Did !?

Words that forge our bond like who else would put up with you or me and
we were meant for one another, we are as bad as each other
will be the hypnotic sound track of the saga of our co-dependence

He will be my co-star as my life unfolds according to the stories I believe
Stories that I have created, many that have piggy backed onto the romantic tales of how the good girl transforms the bad boy with exquisite mastery and tears.
Fictional stories that I will defend as
Love!

Alas it is a tired old script with no surprises in the Story whatsoever!

but it will take me a long time to understand that
to reinterpret and rewrite the lead roles
because most of this is new to me!

And I am a stranger to myself.

Indeed aren’t we all until we remember who we really are?

Therefore I will need quite some time to realise any of this
as this predictable Olde Story unfolds on a roller coaster of
drama and desire
yearning and conflict

Those old scenarios and inevitable cycles replaying themselves in the guise of Love.

Love?

No this is just unlearnt lessons in re-enactment!
I will come to realise this one day
though I do not know that yet of course!

Although my heart does skip a beat when he looks at me in that certain seductive kind of way
Surely that must be Love?

Though you may well think I am making a banquet from a few crumbs of moments of hard earned intimacy
You are wrong of course!
Wrong
Wrong
Wrong

I know this banquet will be rich in the fruits of my desires so long as I am patient.
I will be Patient
will be Patient
will be Patient

My mantras give my life meaning and hope
They really do
Really really they do.

In the meantime I will deny that the toxins of this relationship are causing me great harm.
Souring my naiveté.
Poisoning the sweetness of my illusions whilst I continue to defend his lack of friendliness and warmth as justified

The increasing violence as a sign
that his love for me is so much he can barely handle the intensity!
I understand that and why he is violent
on account of the awful things he went through as a child.
The unresolved issues with his difficult father
The conflict with his troubled mother

There was just so much trouble that went into creating his troubled life
that I share

I am perhaps the only one who really knows that
and understands him and LOVES him
The only one

The lonely one

BUT

Love will conquer all. I think I am sure of that!

There is only one fixed rule in all of this apparent uncertainty
And this the rule I made and now obey:
I must Love him no matter how hard he is to Love.

I will Love him unconditionally
will Love him unconditionally
will Love him unconditionally

This one rule will make it all wonderful one day because

He will open up
He will open up
He will open up

Ultimately of course I will deny myself the right to move forward, to reach my fullest potential because I will be anchored defiantly to our co-dependence and staunchly courageously

desperately

refer to it as
Love!

This is what I know Love to be.

The End

I dedicate this to my lifelong friend Janet 1959 -2001 who was killed by her husband who then killed himself.

Your life mattered Janet, your stories are important to be told. I miss you dearly my friend.

Carol Omer
Certified Life Coach
Author of The Big Girls Little Coloring Book

Posted in Change, Chaos, Childhood, Co-dependence, Denial, Domestic Violence, Drama, Fear, Journeys, Letting go, Lifes Stories, Love, Men and Women, Poetry, Relationships, Sisterhood, Transformation, Unrequited Love, Wisdom, Women | 9 Comments »

She is no longer in my Bed ~ She lives on in my Heart and Head…

Posted by carolom on February 26, 2011

** Poetry inspired by Imagery**

For a few minutes each day, in the summer time, the sunlight reflects from the bonnet of the car and casts a huge imprint of the lace curtains on to the bedroom wall.

The frangipani tree is sometimes silhouetted as well and the other day I walked past the window and my own shadow loomed before me.

It was a stark contrast to the multi coloured pillow case and purple lamp underneath it.

Seeing the image made me ponder about rooms and   invisible memories  and how blessed I am to be in a peaceful relationship with a peaceful man.

From my younger years I remembered how we  can be so impacted after a relationship ends, that it seems that even though he /she has gone, their presence is tangible and the memories of the lost~beloved casts shadows over our tomorrow.

The  imprint of the Love we have lost is represented  by a shadow that is only visible to the broken heart. In the photos  the rhythmic folds of the lace curtains have been transformed into bar-like lines~ symbolic of how imprisoned we can become  to the Love whose time has come and gone and the bitter sweet impact of having loved so passionately for it to then become a story of our past, never in the present again….

So I decided to write a poem. It is a fictional poem but a fact of life for so many who fall asleep nursing a broken heart and wake up to the lonliness of Love lost.

My poem honours the men who weep in silence because they were taught long ago not to show their feelings so they fall asleep at night with it all bottled up inside…

She is no longer in my Bed

For four passion filled years she lived by my side

holding  me tight

through many a night

Together we laughed and played and fought

She used to call me her Improbable Mr Right

Then one day with out warning

(I never saw the storm clouds forming)

She said I’ve met someone who is more Mr Right

than you

Within 24 hours she was gone from our

now broken home

which was  just a hollow  empty shell

 

and of course I was broken & homeless  too….

 

For long dark hours

in the grave where love sours

I yearned for her presence to

come back to me

Even when I began to date once again

despite my heartache & pain

Her presence hovered in and around

within every living cell of  me.

 

I fall asleep with

the emptiness of her

in my arms

Fire  & passion now gone from my life

along with her charms

 

I  miss her  outrageous opinions and views

She was my best friend and my Muse

but now another man calls her

My Beloved Wife

 

 

Posted in Love, Poetry | 1 Comment »

Deirdre Nehua has written a poem for the Spring…

Posted by carolom on September 5, 2010

My friend, the poet and traveller Deirdre Nehua, wrote the following poem in response to my reference that the new season of Spring is upon us.

I met Deirdre on my first trip to Aotearoa (New Zealand) and embarked on a 7 SiStars journey with her to her beloved Matariki Bay….a journey that continues to unfold….

Thank you Deirdre for allowing me to share your poem for the Mother Earth Gardeners here in my blog….

HERES A POEM FOR ALL THE ME (Mother Earth) GARDENERS …..

By Deirdre Nehua….

Do you know of the stillness that connects you to the stars
Or have the courage to fulfill all that you are
We are born within the sight of Matarikis sacred light
VIRGIN SEEDS, travelling from afar…..
We were bought here to aspire, we are keepers of the fire
For our journey it is written in the stars
And the stars they are the keepers of the secrets of the land
The beacon to awaken her desire….
So when Matariki rises our spirit recognises
soon the birthing from the mother will begin
from the blooming borne of spring, the birdsong that will bring
and the KNOWLEDGE OF THE SEED CONTAINED WITHIN
For we cannot deny we descend from earth and sky,
Nor the power of the sisters when in moon
They’re our compass and our guide as we navigate lifes tide
In the stillness in the distance hear their tune.

..
The wisdom of the land is in our language, ancient memories
recalled inside our minds
seeing visions from within, the challenge now begins
to gather up the knowledge left behind….
When we’re once again connected, and the mother not infected
By pollution , and the damage done by greed
When we learn to love the mother and to care for one another
Then the universe will meet our every need
Matariki is much more than Indigenous sacred lore
and the wise ones before us they all knew, we are all part of the whole
and the stories that they told, are from the source
of all that we hold true…….

..

So SEARCH INSIDE THE STILLNESS that connects you to the stars
and Matariki will navigate you true
Thru the happiness and pain, sacred wisdom you will gain
and find that perfect being, that is….
YOU.

**MATARIKI = The seven sisters star cluster

Posted in Community, Creativity, Matariki, Poetry, Seven Sisters, SiStars, Sisterhood, Women, Writing | 1 Comment »

” ~ As I Lay Dying ~ I Learnt How to Love ~ “…… The Poetry of Remembering…

Posted by carolom on August 18, 2010

Spending time at the bedside of someone who is dying transports our every day world to another place…a place where there are no guarantees and all of the things and all of the ‘stuff’ we have accumulated mean very little in the light of the next chapter of our infinite Journey…

I wrote this poem to honor the people I have known who made their journey back to the Spirit world from a hospital bed… and  to pay my respects for a beautiful, simple act I witnessed recently as a family member  tucked the blankets around her loved one’s well tucked in body, and patted  them down with the tenderness of a heart that was bursting  with love from a sacred place, a scared  place where  words could only transmit the tiniest fragment of her love…

 

As I Lay Dying…

For many days people came to my bedside.

I was moving between Here and Out There and would awaken

to see smiling faces  sad faces  concerned faces

standing over my bed side

Why even my old enemy from many years ago

appeared from yesterday, our passions long spent, our lessons now learnt

His  once suspicious  eyes that  mirrored my own

were gazing upon me with Love

It was a little strange but when he took my hand in his

I squeezed it lightly

I didn’t really have much reassurance to share as

every single thing took a great deal of effort

as I lay dying

Who ever would have thought all those years ago

when we fought it out in that stuffy meeting room

that we  would share such a tender moment as this…

~

Next  a sumptuous lover who I believed

I could not possibly live without

who I once wept, raged despaired and hoped for

Smiled down at me from her weary  wrinkled face

Her eyes exuded the very same Love we once revelled in

before jealousy soured the sweetness and poisoned

all possibilities of Love gifting us

with its fullest purest force

My jealousy, that burdensome trait I created from

who on earth knows where….

How silly it all seems now…

Jemilia, with the strange name and outrageous flirtatious ways

completely unsuited to one as insecure in Love as I!

Our Love never died. I understand that now

We  had different roads to travel.

Jealousy and the fury of insecurity seemed

a little ridiculous by the time we met again

When love kissed us with its fullest purest force

~

My friends they gathered

An  impressive array dressed in

different skins and shapes and sizes

Strong people, troubled people caring people edgy people

The whole eclectic cavalcade of those who travelled with me for awhile

they arrived like an endless stream, the audience from within

The theatre of my life

In spite of my semi conscious place

Well actually I was fully conscious at all times

but I was not always in the room

and from the vantage point of my  plumped up pillows

I realised that all of my family and all of my friends

Now all looked exactly the same

regardless of which of the skins they were in…

Love had softened  their eyes, made their smile tremble

some would even tuck in  my well tucked  body a little more

To let me know they cared (as if I couldn’t tell!)

and to move some of the Love that was making them feel very emotional indeed.

And I bathed in the pure sanctuary  of their uninhibited compassion

perhaps understanding Love for the very first time

Better late than never I heard the angels say…

~

When my time came, almost ten days into the final chapter

of my physical demise

I slipped quietly away

just as the new dawn was awakening

The nurse had stepped out of the room for just awhile

…I wanted  to leave with no fuss as we had agreed not to

resuscitate my body  under any circumstances

And that final breath, a dramatic moment indeed

the biggest noise I had made for weeks…

but oh such Joy!

My Spirit stretched like a cat who has been sleeping for a very long time

Stepping out of my body was so easy

I wondered how I had not accidentally slipped out before!

I was greeted with the open arms of those

who had travelled back to the Spirit world before me

There was much to catch up on, a great deal of Remembering to do

and  many new sights and delights to   see

~

Over the next few days I visited the grieving

as they gathered by my breathless earthly shell

and I saw how their Love had melted into tears

as people cried and told stories and remembered the times we had shared

even those stories I had once commanded  “Don’t talk about that!”…

were joyfully retold over and over

making me laugh and twirl through the air with delight

late into the dark night of their loss…

I learnt a lot about Love as I travelled through its embrace

and would share with you this one last thing

Though you may think I am gone

My Spirit travels on

and one day soon, we shall Love and laugh and dance

once again…..

R.I.P.  ~ Revel in Peace……

******************

This Love cloud floated past me … when we leave this world what we have learnt about Love will travel on with us… the rest of our ‘stuff’ stays behind….


Posted in Dying, Forgiveness, Letting go, Lifes Stories, Love, Poetry | Tagged: | 6 Comments »