To Show Me You Care, Poem by Kris Jordan

To Show Me You Care

poetry (c) 2010 Kris Jordan

Reach for me
Reach for my hand
Keep an open mind
Listen
Don’t tell me what to do
Think of me and show me you did
Tease me
Wink at me
Smile at me
Make me laugh and laugh
Surprise me
Tell me about yourself
Hug me
Whisper something to me
Learn my favorite things
Initiate fun
Be honest
Have passion about something
Look into my eyes
Tell me I’m beautiful
Love my mind, body and spirit
Respect my time and space
Ask me questions
Think about me and tell me you did
Wash my car (and never my laundry)
Spend time with me
Fight for me
Reach for me

 

Author’s Comentary

Communication is crucial to relationship building. Without it, we make a lot of assumptions.

This is one of my older poems and it’s really more of a list I had created when my partner asked me what he could do to show me love. I orginally posted this on Facebook and asked others what they would add to the list. What would you add? Anything you would take away? Could you make a list and share it with someone you love? Could you ask them for their list as well?

Recently, I began working with at-risk youth again after taking a few years off. One of the biggest frustrations is that of communication. These young adults are in a funny situation. Some of them have language barriers because one language is spoken at home and another is spoken at school, work, retailers and more. Some of them have communication issues because they don’t have a phone or computer or access to one at home. Some of them have communication problems because they don’t feel like they have a voice or can speak up.

Communication is a skill we can learn and develop regardless of our age, past or former competency. Hopefully, this poetic list opens up another way you can use to communicate to those you love.

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The Warrior and the Dandelion Queen Poem by Kris Jordan

The Warrior and the Dandelion Queen

Poetry by Kris Jordan (c) 2015

I am a warrior and I will fight for her

Her, with the wild morning hair,

eyes that haven’t been fogged by hurt,

a heart full of wonder,

beating in rhythm with me,

fully intact.

 

She need not be locked up in a fridgid marble castle.

She is free to run

with bare feet

on the cool ground

and in the warmth of the sun.

I am a warrior and I will protect her.

 

That’s why she created me.

She created my flowing purple cape.

With a spin and a flick it changes me into any creature

imagined or real

or, with a snap, create a perfect boundary

of air

or distance

or concrete

or rose petals.

 

She created my scales, my feathers, my oversized eyes like those of an owl

so I can see more of everything

tangible or perceived.

 

I will fight

for her dreams, vibrant with hope

For her ears, not rusted form stinging salts

For her fingers that fashion crowns of dandelions.

 

I will fight

for her belief she can be anything

for her playfulness

for her joy.

 

My sword will be drawn on those who arrive with malice

those who tempt her with doubt and fear and comparisions

Those who seek to put out her light

 

I become a dragon and incinerate them

all of them

to protect us

to protect me

to protect the Dandelion Queen

 

Author’s Commentary

I felt very empowered writing this poem. The concept was this little girl, yes even my inner child and a guiding force I name “Krissy”. She is innocent and should always be. She is a creator. She creates a shapeshifter who is her warrior- one who can keep her safe from the world, internally and externally to keep her creating, as she was intending to do.

I also loved the idea of the boundaries she can create- those invisable, those of distance, those of concrete, and those that are lighter, like rose petals. I think as we move through life we need to know with whom to set the right type of boundaries, not being too soft or too firm, but trusting ourselves.

Who is your inner child’s warrior?

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In Love with You Poem by Kris Jordan

In love with you

Poetry by Kris Jordan (c) 2011

 

I don’t read romance novels

have no silly ideas from those

no longing for gushy stories

 

so why,

when I listen to John Cougar Melloncamp on the radio,

do I think of us?

do I think of Little House on the Prairie

and the romance of a simple life

the passion of ending a hard day

with only you

and a quilt I made to keep us warm?

 

When I met you,

sex became making love and passion became more than lust.

Hurt became hurt like never before

and tears became a reality,

not just something seen on TV.

 

You woke me up, made me alive

I’ll take the pain with the pleasure

because I am thankful to be here with you.

 

I don’t watch love stories

have no thoughts of kissing in the rain

no wish for midnight serenades.

 

so why,

do I dream of a cowboy; my long hair whipping in the wind

and think of us?

do I think of your stinky boots

and my love affair with angst and struggle

the passion of ending a hard day

with only you

and a quilt I made to keep us warm?

 

When I met you,

love songs began to make sense and colors appeared much brighter.

Hurt became hurt like never before

and tears became a reality,

not just something seen on TV.

 

You woke me up, made me alive

I’ll take the pain with the pleasure

because I am thankful to be here with you.

 

why does it make me think of you?

 

Author’s Commentary

This poem felt more like a song to me. When I wrote it I was feeling this emotion of love, but I was reflecting on the nostalgic feelings of it more than the emotion itself. I had a feeling that love felt rugged, full of angst and struggle and I wasn’t sure why I saw it that way. While did I feel like being in love was like being a homesteader?

To me, love is passionate and yet feels like hard work, yet is worth every bit of pain.

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Cheater Poem by Kris Jordan

Cheater Poem by Kris Jordan

Poetry (c) 2016

Cheater

How do I stop the brain and start the heart?

 

I’m not present as I kiss her lips

Don’t feel their softness because I’m not thinking of her

The rock in my stomach has me thinking of another

Thinking

Always thinking

I don’t feel her tongue’s movement against mine inviting me to more

Instead wondering if I will ever succumb to my heart

Stop running

Be here

Right here

 

When will I no longer succumb to my dick?

That little tiny pea sized dick

Between my ears

 

When, in bravery, will I shut off that damn switch?

Those dark dim thoughts

Let that lightbulb drop into my chest

And radiate courage

Love

Rather than this cowardice

 

How do I stop the brain and start the heart?

When will I trust her

Love her and dance with her

And finally leave the other

No, not leave the brain behind entirely

After all, I still need it

To drive. To do math. To choose which investments to make.

But to leave the judgment

That bitchy harsh critic

To let go of all the thinking

To be present with the being

Let go

Allow my feelings to be here

Right here

And love me

 

Really love me

 

Author’s Commentary

Self love demonstrated in a poem about a “cheater”… In this poem I use the metaphor of a physical affair to show the disconnect between the head/brain/ego and the heart. I also play on the concept of masculinity (the brain) and the feminine (heart). I wrote it because often I find myself fighting between what I feel is smart, logical, informed and the passion of desire, flow, and presence.

We can’t and shouldn’t completely cut off that linear side of us, our masculine that allows us to analyze and process data. We need it. Our left side allows us to survive and trouble shoot. AND we can’t and shouldn’t completely cut off that creative side of us, our feminine that allows us to feel, know, be. We need it. Our right side is needed to thrive and love.

When we understand and embrace all we are- both masculine in feminine- we can see the value they bring, the balance, the attraction we create from it, the contrast we have with each other, and can grow not only in love for ourselves, but for others as well.

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Hello Gorgeous Prose by Kris Jordan

Hello Gorgeous

prose by Kris Jordan

Intellectually I know my beauty doesn’t change day by day. But I still look in the mirror to judge it.
Some days, I am rather impressed.

I see my reflection and push my shoulders back, smile and say, “Damn!”

My confidence radiates and shakes the ether.

Other days I see my reflection and divert my eyes with disgust and wonder how anyone could ever find me attractive.

The mirror isn’t having a bad day. It never does.

The only thing it truly shows me is my perception.

I can’t control my mirror.
But, I can choose my perception.

Hello, gorgeous!

Author’s Commentary

I think this poem is pretty straight forward. It may be considered prose because of that. If you don’t feel you are a poet, or can’t write poetry, you may want to consider prose. Here is a simple graphic that explains the difference: Poetry vs. Prose

Prose and poetry are both ways to look differently at life. It gives us time to reflect on something happening and summing it up through examination. Sometimes by putting our feelings on paper, we gain objectivity we don’t have when we allow it to spin through our heads. For me, writing is a form of therapy, and there are lots of therapuetic methods that use journalling, writing, and other creative expressions to help us process and move through something that is or has troubled us.

Many times I believe we are attracted to songs for this same reason- they give us a voice that pin points our feelings. We may like the beat and sound, but often the words draw us in. We get to sing or say what we haven’t expressed, try on a new point of view, pretend, identify and more.

What words have had an impact on you- whether poetry, prose, or song? Do you or have you ever used journalling for therapy or reflection?

Today, I issue you a challenge to sit and journal about something that is bothering you. Pretend you are someone else going through the problem. How does this character solve it? What advice do you give him or her?

How does this objectivity support you?

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In Her Shoes Poetry by Kris Jordan

In Her Shoes

Perspective Poetry (c) Kris Jordan

I’m here, dripping sweat down my nose, working hard. Scrubbing the floors, the counters, the refrigerator shelves. Burning off this damn energy.
Thinking of you.
Wondering why I did you wrong.
Slamming the vacuum into the corner. Cussing as I roll over my foot. Kicking my ass for hurting you.

That cobweb in the corner.
That burnt out lightbulb.
How long have they been like that? Guess I didn’t notice them either. Left you, and them, sitting alone in that dark, dirty room, letting you rot.

I’m sorry for forgetting your heart.
For words left unsaid and those words that came spilling out so carelessly like cockroaches scattering towards the shadows where they belong.

I’m sorry I turn off.
Disappear inside my head. Become as warm and loving as the underside of a rock on the top of Pikes Peak where we rode the Cog Railroad and laughed and talked and you told me your dream. Your dream of helping hurting children.
You do that. Because your heart is so beautiful. So pure. You can heal them. I believe in you.

I don’t believe in me.
I don’t know how you manage to pump blood into my heart, bring me to life, invite my sense of adventure out to play. I don’t know how your magic kick-starts my breath as you cause me to gasp for air, inhale, breathe you in, fill my lungs.

You make me pant for more of the love you give.
In those moments when the sweat drips down my nose and your moisture drips down your leg, I am free. In those moments when I am present with you, my heart attempts to break through everything holding it down.
I want you. I want you. I want you.
I love you.

Author’s Commentary

This poem had several layers for me, and as often writing and/or poetry do, I didn’t discover it until I read it again. That’s the beautiful thing about life- we can take a different perspective at any time and see a situation differently. For example- read the poem through the eyes of one lover to another. Then, read it as the writer’s perspective of herself.

Many times our reflection of ourselves shows up in our relationships. Many times our reflection of others shows up in how we treat ourselves.

Consider today how you might change perspectives and learn something new. Talk to yourself as though thrid person, as though looking at your relationship with yourself like it is external. What changes?

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Shirley Temples and Long Island Iced Teas

Shirley Temples and Long Island Iced Teas

a poem by Kris Jordan
(c) 2013
*this was orginally published in Anything Prose and Poetry, Too! (Anassa Publications, LLC)

Our date was on Saturday morning
I skipped cartoons to seal my hair back with a barrette
Wiggled into a ruffle trimmed dress
You wore cowboy boots and the smells-good I bought you for Father’s Day
You look pretty, you say
And I feel sugary swirly sweet- an exclusive gift from you

We went to the Garden of Eden where
they give everyone a balloon twisted into an apple
that
sits precariously in their hand
Under shaded lamps, baked apples are served beside every pork chop
My small fingers are hidden in your hard working
construction plumber baker strong hand

My thick short glass magnifies tiny bubbles resting on syrupy cherries
Yours is tall in a glass that stacks the ice to the lip
Not like the beer I see you drink
Not like the cans that
Litter our home, cause you to sleep, make you as recpetive as concrete

Sweat lingers in the creases of your forehead
You become irritable at the waitress
She brings you another tall glass
That’s what you wanted
A sexy, tall woman not a thick goofy child
She brings a third, maybe more
And I enjoy my food more than I should
Filling my round belly
Wondering if I’ll ever be satisfied
If I’ll ever be pretty

We get in to your truck and you spit us out into traffic,
shouting
Barely missing cars in either direction
You look at me ashamed
Sad
My knuckles grasping the door, my knees clenched to my chest
I’m sorry, you say
But I don’t believe it
You’ve said it too often

 

Author’s Commentary

One day when reflecting on my childhood and my relationship with my dad, I had this memory of a father-daughter date that went awry due to his addiction to alchol. In it, I saw my addiction to food. I thought about the different tools we use to cope with our unexpressed feelings, and that sense of not being in control, not feeling safe, and that desperation in feeling so scared.

For so many kids, growing up in a home with addiction and/or alcholism is very common. We must be able to recognize the children in our life are victims of circumstances outside their control and they need support. They need to be heard. They need to know as adults, they can choose coping strategies and life tools that allow them to grow past old ways of self preservation.

For you who have hurt in this way, I send you love and peace. I encourage you to do a search for Alanon or Adult Children of Alcholics or Celebrate Recovery or Addiction Support Groups and see if any resonate with you, and follow that prompting.  You have been impacted by addiction, but you can find tools to support you now. I love you!

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Let’s Go, Poem by Kris Jordan

Let’s Go

Poem © Kris Jordan 2016

Move to Albuquerque with me.

We’ll buy a small stucco home with a back patio full of sun

that shines into the house and makes it glow orange.

Wake up beside me as we lay on top of way too many blankets

like The Princess and the Pea.

The smell of incense in the air doesn’t disguise the

scent of last night’s passion.

We act like we’re 20, even though we’re far from it

giggling and wondering who the hell we think we are to be so young and silly.

Move to Albuquerque with me.

Let’s forget about this traffic and the siblings that rob us and let’s grow zucchini.

Does it grow there?

Let’s bless our dirt.

Let’s take the high road.

Let’s win.

 

Author’s Commentary

I wrote this poem after having a feeling of wanting to just start over. I think most of us feel this way at one time or another in our lives. I just felt like there was more drama than I wanted to deal with, and that somehow a relocation would make it all go away. Yet, someone once told me, “Wherever you go, there you are,” meaning, whether you relocate permanently or temporarily (ie. take a vacation), you are the same and therefore think the same thoughts and create the same results.

How does your mind create your reality today?

I am a big fan of personal development and have been focused on self-care more than ever these days. A HUGE part of this is being aware of my mindset- those things I think- and how they serve me. When they don’t help and rather hinder, I find ways, to the best of my ability to shift them. This includes exercise, meditation, sleep, a bath, a massage, a pedicure, listening to music…

“Let’s go” poem is a metaphor for changing our mind’s landscape by bringing ourselves into the place where we WANT to be. What is that for you today?

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7/20/12, 2012 Aurora Century Theater Shooting Poem

7/20/12

© ‘72012’ Poetry Kris Jordan 2016

7

20

12

Dead

56 Injured

1000’s affected

 

My daughter survived

Only survived

Still surviving.

 

3 hospital stays

2 suicide attempts

47 stitches

 

How many f*ing lives?

How much of my money

so a murderer can be housed and fed?

so we can heal?

so we can fight?

The expense is too high.

Too much!

He lives. We die.

 

Author’s Reflection

This one is hard for me. My daughter was an employee at the Aurora Century theater. It was her first job. She was 16. She was working the night of the shooting. Her life was shattered that night. My life took a turn that night. My child lived and is living with survivor’s guilt and PTSD that has almost killed her.

It hurts to know how much my daughter is hurting, to the point of her no longer wanting to live her life, because of someone else’s actions. She’s not in a place today to advocate for herself. She is not emotionally able to fight for her health. And so I pray.

I pray for her. I pray for me. I pray for me to not take a victim role, but rather to stand in the faith that everything happens for a reason. I stand in my belief that things happen FOR us, for greater purposes than we understand. I stand in my belief that people deserve love. I stand in the belief my daughter will be a thriver.

That doesn’t mean I’m not angry. I’m angry that some one else’s free will, some one else’s mental health issues, that some one else can hurt other people. I’m angry beyond belief. And this poem reflects that.

Today, I pray for the innumeral people who have been affected by the Aurora Century Theater Shooting or any other horrific act of violence. For what it’s worth, I believe in Justice and Love and pray for you.

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To the Death, Poetry by Kris Jordan

“Sometimes, they need to get away from the thing that makes them sick. Even if that toxic thing is you.”

To The Death

poetry (c) Kris Jordan

She loved him deeply

Profoundly

Blindly

Sickly.

Fought, until the death for his

Love

Abuse

Addiction

As though it was hers.

Yet it was.

Her love

Her self-abuse

Her addiction

 

There was no beginning and no end of her apart from him. He was everything and nothing. As though she was a single person, a single parent. Alone and yet not. Entwined. Entangled. Engulfed. Drowning.

 

She loved her deeply

Profoundly

Astoundingly.

Let go, terrified of her seemingly imminent death

Cried

Reached out

Hurt

As though it was hers.

Yet it was.

Her tears

Her self-care

Her pain

 

Detached yet caring, understanding she was never intended to be a part of her. She was meant to be unique, individual, autonomous, empowered. Strong. Loved. Supported, not enabled.

Released.

Released.

 

Released.

 

Author’s Reflection:

This poem looks at two different ways to be in relationship. One is attached, dysfunctional, and the other is “released”. Both are hard.

The second stanza is a look at my relationship with my kids. How hard it is to let go and let them experience their lives, wanting to keep them in the nest, yet also wanting them to be the beautiful women I have raised them to be.

Relationship, a truly healthy one, isn’t co-dependant, that is, they allow space for each person to be fully human, self-sufficient, empowered, while also demonstrating mutual respect and love.

Wikipedia defines codependency, and my favorite part states the balance we take when we aren’t, when we are in health: “Responsibility for relationships with others needs to coexist with responsibility to self….Someone truly recovered from codependency would feel empowered and like an author of their life and actions rather than being at the mercy of outside forces.”

How is your responsibility levels? Are you over responsible or under respondsible? Do you “own” other’s responsibilities?

Do you feel empowered? Are you the author of your own life now, even if you haven’t been in the past?

I encourage you to keep moving forward. Keep looking inward. Keep seeking… you are on the right path…remain curious about what your life is showing you.

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