A Fighting WIsh

So I've been reflecting a lot on my life and a lot on my career choice. And I keep coming back to the reason I'm enduring all the drama, the chaos and the waiting game--something I despise. And I keep coming back to a certain someone in my life. And why, after everything I've been through, he is still there. And why the hell I still struggle to impress him. So here's "A Fighting Wish."

I stop and wonder
Why I picked you
To guide and teach me
So I'll learn something new.

What was it about you,
Your wit or your charm?
That kept drawing me to you,
Hoping I'd come to no harm.

I let you touch me
In a new, novel way,
I gave you my mind
Then you sent me away.

Blindly I followed you
Through my adult life
Asking you for guidance
Putting up with your strife.

Through the heartache and pain
Knowing you does bring me,
I keep holding out hope
That some day you'll see

How much I strive
For your approval
I toil and struggle
For you ego's removal.

Just look at me,
See what I can do,
Silently I scream it,
Always at you.

I work myself raw
Hoping one day you'll see
The work that I do
And you'll be proud of me.

Waiting

I'm having a very stressful time at the moment with many career choices being up in the air. So this is what I came up with as a way to alleviate the stress. 

The clocks tick,
They decide my fate
No matter how I hate it,
I just have to wait.

The doubts and the fears,
The questions of course too,
Spin round in my brain,
There's little I can do.

I long to stop them,
Their shrieks and their cries,
The doubts cloud my brain,
Fill my head with lies.

The terrifying thing,
There's no end in sight,
These doubts and these fears
Don't die at first light.

Like vampires they suck me
Till my soul is no more,
They still long to feed then,
After my body's dead on the floor.

I scream in silence,
There's nobody there,
No one to save me,
Just still, silent air.

The waiting continues,
Goes on indefinitely,
Through the darks days
Maybe, an end I'll soon see.

A Flash of Time

This was written on the eve of my LIMS graduation. This is probably the best poem I have ever written and one of the few I am emotionally attached to. It's the first time I literally revealed so much of my own emotions in a piece of writing. 

A Flash of Time

By: Kelley A. Blessing

We all traveled here

From both near and far

Reminiscent of wisemen

In search of a star.

We arrived wondering

Of Laban, we knew nothing at all,

But we had the self-knowledge

We were in for the haul.

All of us strangers

Setting a pace

Our companions were alien

In both name and face.

Four young travelers

Beginning a trail,

With wise guardians to guide us

To ensure we don’t fail.

We stood together

Like children that day

Excited but nervous

Until we met K.

K as our guide

Sweet and fun in extreme

Through Basic Body Actions

We sensed Laban’s dream.

Her hand was gentle

And theatrically based

Through Macbeth and mask work

Ourselves, she forced us to face.

As an advisor she was

Brilliant and helped keep me well paced

Using Breath Support and teamwork

We solved problems I faced.

Her energy infectious

Her compassion—no bounds

It was a mutual feeling

Safeness with her around.

Then there was Cheryl

A wise and spirited guide

From anatomy and ourselves

We couldn’t hide.

With wonder she’d show us
Each time something new,

With a smile and gentle coaxing

Ensuring we saw it too.

Her knowledge was boundless

Reflexes and Bauhaus and much in between

With her great sense of humor

She revealed Laban’s dream.

From her, affirmations are few

But, every one I hold near

My heart swelled with pride

At each “well done my dear.”

And Frederick our guide

With such patience and light,

On his shoulders fell

Our complaints of each plight.

With gentleness and care

We were led through each maze

Shedding light in the darkness

After confusing days.

His teaching style was elegant

All of his explanations quite clear

It was apparent to us

Laban’s dream he held dear.

With great observations

And exercises too,

He brought much variety

As we danced in the park and the zoo.

And then there was Mari

Always bright and fun

To learn to connect to ourselves

Well, she was the one

Who taught us to feel

Each others’ energy

And through extreme movement work

She helped us to see

Laban’s theory in motion,

Bringing his work alive.

To see ourselves

With eyes opened wide.

Her warm-ups were awesome

She’d know just what we’d need

And off her energy always,

We seemed to feed.

And then there is John

A kinder man there can’t be,

He always took us traveling

And New York we did see

From upstate at Dia

To skyscrapers at the Met

His teachings were always insightful

From which I’m learning yet.

His lessons always challenged

His feedback detailed excessively

He certainly was the man

Who pushed us to the best that we’d be.

His understanding nature

His always ready ears

To listen to our problems

And alleviate our fears.

Then there was Sook

The knowledge she knew

Always fun in our work

Carnivals, and Improv too.

She helped to really
Access our Shaping

It was her that taught me

The true feeling of Wring.

Inner Outer Connection

She taught us to see

The expressions in people

How they could just be

Reflected through actions

The motivations they had

Her teachings and wisdom

Left us feeling glad.

And last there is Ellen,

Sending luck that first day

Of her knowledge and love

Of this work, there’s much to say.

Her enthusiasm for life

Never does wane

And at times it seemed that

She and Laban, both shared a brain.

She’s funny and caring

Motherly too

Rarely finding fault

Only loving you for you.

She taught us much,

Her work impacted me

For it was through her eyes

Nature’s true beauty I’d see.

Our assistants were there

Persevering through it all

Treating us gently

And padding our fall.

About each other

We really got to know

After all we were together

For the run of this show.

Supportive and fun-loving

And each so bright

Beautiful how we love each other

And a year later we don’t fight.

From projects to coffee

We always had fun

Working together

As if we were one.

There’s Juliana

So grounded and sincere,

When helping you with theory

There’s nothing you’d fear.

Then there’s Diana,

So light hearted and free

Making us laugh

And our Effort to see.

And then there is Mel,

So sweet and sincere

With BF she helped us

And held us all dear.

That leaves one person

Perhaps the hardest to see

Beneath the knowledge and experience

I guess that person’s me.

I don’t know what to feel

What to think or say

I just know this one year

Seems like merely a day.

All the times I have laughed

The times that I’ve cried too

The information, people, the love

It’s made me born anew.

I feel more intensely

My observations much more keen

This year and this program

Have exceeded my wild’est dream.

Our futures are open

But what will they hold?

A success story for each

I’m sure will be told.

Thinking back now

It’s just plain to see

That our friendship and love

Was destined to be.

Like waves in the ocean

That continue to flow

Let’s not say goodbye,

But let’s end with hello.

Modern Dance Midterm

This poem was written on March 1, 2007 after my Dance Two mid-term. The "Master" as quoted below is our dance instructor, a very talented woman and someone I look up to as a dance hero. It was my first reaction to her rather grueling midterm. We all danced our asses off and were way too tired to move afterwards. That being said, my brain thought not in terms of exhaustion but in terms of poetry.  

Modern Dance Mid-Term
Rippling muscles,
Combinations across
The floor. Strong beat,
Drums like metronomes.
Bodies rolling,
Diving to the black
well-worn dance floor.

Red light flashes,
Camera recording
Each move dancers make.
A faint whisper sounds
From behind the
Ever watching lens.
The master counts

Ensuring dancers
Do not stray from
The ever pounding
Rhythmic drum line.

Her eyes are seeing
More then the lens.
Music is her soul.

Sweat falls off the
Quivering muscles
Belonging to
The very spent
Modern dance students.

Lungs suck in air,
Panting dancers stare

At the camera,
Waiting for some kind
Of approval.
She smiles, nods and
Says: "Nice ladies."
The dancers smile,
They've succeeded.

RIP Joe

Drew's theatre department recieved tragic news six years ago, on  March 10, 2007 when we were informed that our beloved Head of the Department, Joe Patenaude, passed away. This poem is my response to hearing the tragic news. Since it's been six years this month, and since I find myself thinking of Joe more and more often this month, with the new whirlwind changes in my life, I decided to post this here. If it wasn't for Joe I never would have been a theatre major, so he's was a pretty big force in my life.  

Whirlwind
Shock.
Confusion.
Pain.
Then
Absolute
And utter
Numbness.

Hands shaking,
Mouth too dry
to speak.
Heart pounds
In grief.

Realization hits.

Never hear
Your jokes
In the
Theatre Wing
Again.
Never see
You smile
Or hear
Your laugh.

No longer
Will you
Kid, cajole,
Rib or
Advise us.

No longer
Will our
Department
Thrive under
Your dedicated
And extremely
Loving hand.

You have

Died and
Left this
Cold world.
But do
Not fear.
Although
You are
No longer
Among the
Living, you
Will never
Be forgotten.

Forever, you'll
Live on
In our hearts
And in
The DOYO.

RIP Joseph Patenaude

Dancing Through Life

 This is a work in progress that has highlighted all the high points I could think of in my life today.  I still have to add LIMS and Drew Grad School. That will be done eventually, when I feel inspired. Although Drew grad school was such an emotional roller-coaster that it might need its own poem. So too, might the one for LIMS.  

The cold bricks

The colorful rug

Light blue dress

Black backpack over

Thin shoulders.

Warm hand clutching

Smaller, sweaty one.

Tears glisten in Mama’s eyes,

A new chapter of life begins.

Black checkered pants,

Red long sleeved shirt,

Shiny black shoes

Reflect peoples’ faces.

Microphone seems big,

Held in a tiny hand.

A book held, young eyes

Scan the text. Words

She had written sound big

From such a small voice.

Mama tries not to cry.

Her baby grew up a little.

Dogs bark, fur flying,

Puppies running all about.

Eyes shine bright, warm

Fur against soft skin.

Two hearts beat together in

Excitement.

Mama smiles.

First responsibility occurs.

Hands warm hands.

Popcorn smells heavenly,

Mixed with fresh scent

Of cologne. Hands shake,

Brush against each other,

Popcorn flies.

End credits roll,

Nervous hugs goodnight.

Mama smiles, first group

Date. 

Little girl out

With little boy.

Sore muscles, sweat

Pours off skin.
Dirty, muddy shoes and

Clothes.

Boys and girls.

Colonge mixed with

Mud and sweat.

Bodies nervously sway

To music.
Eyes lock,

Music swells.

Love for the first time

Found at camp dance?

I like you…I like like you…

I like like you too.

So…want to be my girlfriend?

Sure!

Mama laughs. Her daughter’s

In a “relationship.”

Gowns itch,

The start whiteness of

The robe, a huge contrast

To the maroon sash.

Names are called, nervous

Legs carry a nervous girl to

The stage.
Mama smiles and cries.

Her daughter “graduated”

From middle school with honors.

Itchy, grey kilt.

Grey socks slide down

From knees.

Shiny black shoes,

White polo shirt.

Heart pounds in chest,

New faces swarm around,

All the girls are nervous.

How will high school be?

Simple dress,

Blonde hair down

And pretty.

Principal, Sister Suzanne,

Speaks, words jumble together.

The coveted ‘L’ pin.

The recipient’s name is

Called.

Ears roar from applause.

Knees nearly give way from

Newborn calf unsteadiness

Heading to the stage.

Mama cries, her freshman won.

Snow white suit,

Matching white boots.

Blond hair down, glasses on.

Long, nimble fingers

Caress the ivory keys,

Tickling out strands of

Bach.

New class ring glints

In the light.

Mama smiles.

Her baby’s playing brings

Tears to her eyes.

Her baby’s now an

Upper classman.

Actors and actresses

Backstage, different world.

A dressing room, plain in everyway

except inside there’s a star.

Speechless—her favorite actor.

Mama laughs at the retelling.

Doorbell rings

Skateboard in hand,

Young boy at door.

“Hey.”

Mama smiles, her baby’s first

Date.

Hard work paid off.

Honors night again.

Another dress,

Another cold chair.

NHS inductions.

Names are called.

Legs approach the stage,

A delirious grin on face.

Mama smiles and is

So proud.

Check in hand,

Microphone is there.

Heart pounds

A nervous tattoo against ribs.

Too jumpy to eat,

Stomach rolls about.

Time to speak.

Voice slightly shaky,

Hands rigidly at sides.

Check handed over,

A warm embrace, tears

Are shining in eyes.

Two unlikely friends,

Helping each other.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t cry.”

A charity is helped.

Long white gown,

A simple red rose.

High heels sink into grass.

Hands shake.

A poem is read, in a less then

Steady voice. The words

Blur together through tears,

But the voice continues.

Mama tries to hold back

Tears but can’t

A new chapter in

Her baby’s life—a

Closing and an opening—

High school graduation.

Car packed, no free space

To sit. Wheels strain

Against the weight.

Heavy lifting, cursing,

Laughing. Gentle humor

Exchanged, overriding

The veritable avalanche of

Emotion bubbling below

The surface.

Mama tries not to cry,

Her girl’s happy but she’s slightly

Sad. Four years of college.

Another new chapter of life begins.

Heat. Whiskers scraping,

Heated skin, hands shaking

As they caress each other.

Teeth and tongue exploring.

Mama doesn’t need to know

About this first make-out session

In the car.

Anger, frustration,

Voice yelling, tears

Threatening to spill.

Fevers racing, embarrassment

Fills the soul.

Trying to keep mouth shut.

Later, sound design gets done

And awarded.

“You did it.” First kind word

from her. A glimmer of

Pride starts to grow.

“I love you.”

“I love you too my love.”

Soft words spoken in a

Cab in a foreign place.

Time stops, lips brush together.

Later, bodies entwine,

Swaying and dancing to

Primitive rhythms.

Love, bliss, Heaven.

“I’m very proud of you my dear,”

A hero says. A success,

A rare time in a life.

A warm embrace hides a

Delirious grin. Mama

Smiles too, she’s also proud

Of her baby’s achievement in

Choreographing a scene.

Love grows, love dies

Much like the winter snow.

Bliss grows old,

People change.

Pain, distrust,

A God becomes a mortal,

A man a devil.

The end looms,

A chapter longs to close.

A ball of fur,

A coal black nose,

Wet pink tongue.

So many hopes pinned

On you. Will you, little pup,

Succeed?

Crash and burn

Emotional slide

Fabric of life rips.

One becomes two.

Mama cries too

But is there to pick of the

Pieces. Her baby will

Find a better man.

Muscles straining,

Tempers flair.

Choreography is shit.

Mama listens and nods,

Understandingly. “You’ll

Figure it out.”

Lights, yellow, orange red

Shine on sweat slicked

Dancers.

Heart thumps in choreographer’s

Chest, keeping rhythm with the

Moving feet. The final

Pose is hit.

Whispering amongst the

Classmates, the director, the

hero. Affirmations are

Heard. She nods but says

Nothing.

Tech drags on. Lights dim,

A blue backpack slung

Over a well-formed shoulder.

A hero exits, but suddenly

Reenters.

Soft hand land on shoulder,

Faces turn toward each other.

The hero smiles.

“Good work, very good work.”

She’s gone before a response

Can be formulated.

Mama will be so proud.

Red lights blaze,

Blinding all.

Heart races,

But not from the dance.

A lift, well executed—

There! In the audience,

She’s crying…a hero is crying.

The dance is finished—no knowledge of

How. The show’s over.

Faces blur from behind tears.

A hand, soft and gentle—

“I read what you wrote.

I’m so touched. Thank you.”

A smile forms, a quick embrace.

Mama knows her baby’s hero is proud

And so is she.

Behind the make-up,

The drunken laugher,

Trepidation runs wild.

The cowardly lion was

A smart choice. Courage

Is needed to get through this.

She gets up, a woman whom

Is idolized. Two sets of brown

Eyes meet across a filled theatre.

“Kelley is a competitive ballroom

Dancer,” she begins, “But she’s

Never been competitive here.”

Tears blur, make-up runs.

The hero has spoken. “I’ll

Leave you with a final affirmation”

But the ears don’t hear. They’re too

Filled by the pounding pulse.

The hero is finally proud.

Formal dress pants,

A white shirt,

Hot beneath the heavy

Black academic robe.

The mortarboard is awkward—

Tilting and falling.

Mama fusses till the last

Moment.

Names are called,

Heels pound against the stage.

Diploma is hard against the skin.

Mama has never been more proud—

Her baby graduated college.

A series of Haikus

I used to work in a job where I was stuck going to meetings all of the time. Many of these meetings were kind of pointless and directed at those who didn't have a clue as to what to do in the workplace. So I spent these meetings writing haikus. I have just found the notebook from said place of employment so I have decided to post them here:

Snow
Snow is very white
It falls in tranquil sheets and
Turns the world quiet.

To wonder:
I sit here wondrin'
What my future will hold and
How my life will be.

Bordem
Bordem is a curse
It plagues me and haunts my mind
It will be my death.

Music
Music fills my soul
Its harmonies envelope
Cradling me now.

Dancers
Dancers moving 'round
Music moves them through each step
Quick and slow rhythms.

To Dream to Sleep
I sit here and watch
Until my eyes start to bleed
My tolerance dies.

I'm Curious

This was inspired a curious thought that entered my head one day after a meeting with a professor.

People. We interact with them on a daily basis, from the time we wake up in the morning until the time we go to bed. Throughout every day of our lives, we meet people—from the gas station attendant who fills our cars for our morning commute, to the waitress who brings us our first coffee at our favorite diner, to the new Xerox repairman who entered our office building for the first time. Most of these people we meet are transient, they’re in our lives for a moment and then they’re gone without really making all that much of an impact.

And then, for reasons unexplained, there are moments in our lives when we meet someone and something audibly clicks in our brains. It’s a small click, many of us probably don’t even hear the sound, but that click sets something in motion. This stranger has done something to us, without our knowledge. This person, for better or for worse, is going to have an impact on the way we think, on the choices we make, on the very course of our lives. Sometimes we’re grateful for the impact, and other times, we wish it had never happened. Regardless of the end outcome, this seeming stranger has taught us something about ourselves, and in some way, has lead to a path of self-discovery. 

So I wonder, what makes that connection happen in the first place? What is it about someone else that says "wow, you're going to influence my life?" I had that experience last year in grad school, where I allowed someone to turn my world upside down (in the non-romantic sense) and it has stayed upside down ever since. That person's opinion of me matters more then my own opinion of me. And I'm curious, as to the why? Because I can't really quite figure it out. Perhaps I never will. It's still fun to think about though.