Penelope

This is a persona poem written from the perspective of Odysseus's wife Penelope from Homer's famous epic The Odyssey.


My husband fought many monsters, but so did I. People honor his tales of adventure but no one cares about the mundane life of a glorified housewife. And if you asked me twenty years ago what I wanted to be, I would have said just your average housewife.

But that was not my fate.

My husband's curse became my curse. I didn't have the luxury of committing a multitude of sins while visiting the forbidden corners of the ocean. I just got to pay a heavy price for his mistakes. Although I am a queen it hardly matters in a society that likes to tell me that I still have no value. My palace became my prison, overrun with suitors who wanted to marry me only for possessions, land and title.

I thought up tricks to stall the suitors as long as I could. They stayed anyway and invaded my home. I was undermined and betrayed by those closest to me. And I loved my husband so much that I wanted nothing but for him to return safely.

I saw my home crumble around me and I watched my son grow up without a father. Do you know how many times I wanted to just pick up and leave? Take my son and never look back. Start fresh somewhere else and let my past just vanish. But I was a good wife and I fulfilled my duty by staying.

No one ever asked me what I wanted because they assumed that this was all I could ever want. A palace, servants, men chasing after me. Maybe I wanted to travel and see the world too. But the only corner of the world I ever saw was the ocean outside of my window. The same ocean I saw in the morning and at night.

I was so jealous of the birds I saw coming and going as they pleased. What a beautiful feeling it must be to simply spread your wings and be anywhere you want to be. No one knows how many nights I sat at that window praying to any god that would listen to take this burden from me. But even the gods thought that these walls and this view are all I could ever want.

And when my husband finally did return he disguised himself to test my loyalty. After twenty years I passed every test that was given to me. And as much as I love him I know he did not afford me the same kind of loyalty. I wonder if I ever crossed his mind while he laid with all the others. I wonder if he ever missed watching his son grow up.

Now he sits by the fire retelling stories of his adventures. I am reminded of the sad truth that those who make mistakes receive celebrations while those who fulfill duties must keep going strong.

Miami

Miami marked my second business trip with DRIP. We booked a private performance and I was excited because even though I am born and raised in Florida this was my first visit to Miami. 

Dimitri doing some last minute repairs before packing the van. 

As we headed into Miami I was astonished by the tangled mass of concrete highways. I had never seen so many overlapping layers of traffic. 

A view of the sprawling city skyline. 

Angel looking at Miami through the rain splattered window of the van. 

I spotted this lovely insect by the pool of our hotel. I was never able to figure out what kind of bug it was but I was amazed by its shiny, iridescent abdomen with a flash of red at the tip. 

Our lovely dancers playing on the beach. 

Dimitri applying some sunscreen. 

A peachy sunset on the way home back to Orlando.

The Fight

Fights are a common feature of my life. I came from a large and argumentative family. My father gains the advantage by shouting, my mother digs her heels in patient defiance, and my quarrelsome siblings and I were always fighting for rank. Former friends would wear me down with their passive-aggressive tendencies and ex-boyfriends would expect me to bow to their demands without compromise. And I with my strong personality have never been one to let others walk over me.

But you fight like no one else I have ever met.

You text messaged me to cancel the day we had planned. You had just started your shift at work and I was curled up in my sheets trying to sleep in on my precious day off. Never mind that it was five in the morning. I looked at your message with a sleepy broken-heartedness. I felt like our day together was ruined before it even started. I put the phone back down without responding. I didn't want to deal with you. 

A few hours went by and my silence was making you uneasy. You sent another message offering to make other plans but I refused. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or the let down but I couldn't hide my anger any more. I finally responded. 

"To be perfectly honest I feel like I started my one day off arguing with you and I am in such a shitty mood already. I don't want to hang out with you today and it kills me to say that."

As soon as I sent the text I burst into tears. This is the part where I speak my mind and brace for the retaliation. I didn't have to wait long for a response but it was not what I expected. 

"I'm going to call you after I get off work, will you answer?"
I started at the message with a weary smile. I knew you were trying and I felt disarmed.
Without hesitating I wrote back. "Yes, I will answer."

You see, I have been told many times about how unpleasant I am to deal with in a fight. I just wanted to be understood. Anger is just the last resort after being polite has failed. Most people go through life trying to hide their feelings to save friendships. But I was more afraid of the relationships I would have if I didn't fight. I wasn't going to pretend that you didn't break my heart. 

In the past when this happened with others they would storm off and call me names. They would arrogantly wait for me to cool down until I was rational again in their eyes. But you are nothing like them. You jumped right into the fire. 

You didn't do it out of fear and you didn't do it because you thought it would appease me. You did it because you cared enough about us to make sure we were still okay. I am not used to this kind of sincerity on bad days and for that you have earned my loyalty. I am a sucker for someone who keeps trying out of the goodness of their own heart. 

You called me when you got out of work and I did answer the phone. What struck me was that the first breaths out of both our mouths were apologies. Our instinct to take care of each other overrides any pain we may have caused. 

After a brief pause you heard me sniffle and wipe some tears from my eyes. 

"Do you want me to come over?" you asked

"Yes, please" 

You were at my apartment moments later and we embraced in the doorway. We sat and talked for hours. We talked until we were both okay again. It was never about what we were going to do that day, only that we spent the time together. It was not the day at the beach I had so badly wanted, but something about sitting across from you in that tiny kitchen in my pajamas with tear soaked cheeks reminded me that our love is one of the most honest and beautiful things I've been a part of. What a treasure it is to be in the company of someone who fights as hard as I do and for the right reasons. 

The following day we found ourselves at your place. After lunch you brought out your guitar, something you are normally very shy about. You played new songs for me until we were sleepy and sinking into the couch cushions. As I laid there with heavy eyes I watched you strum to the sound of the rain falling on the grass. I know my tempestuous heart is safe in your anxious hands, and what a perfectly unique fit it is.

Texture

I took this photo in the backyard of my parents house. This tree was taller than all the others with one large branch reaching upwards towards the clouds.

I love the way the small, spear-shaped leaves create a ruffled cluster against the backdrop of the cotton filled sky. This picture contains a small range of shapes and colors, however, it is bursting with rich texture and depth.

Rise Phoenix

I am in charge of doing several of the hiring interviews for my job. Right from the start his resume stood out. And the more resumes I read, the more I kept going back to his. The initial phone interview went well and called him again to set a time for him to come in and begin working.

When I tried to confirm a time he snapped at me.

"I CAN'T MAKE IT ON WEDNESDAY AND I DOUBT I CAN DO THURSDAY."

Needless to say I was taken aback. I ended the conversation abruptly and starred quizzically and my phone.

"Wow" I thought "I guess I'm not going to be calling him back."

Surprisingly he actually called me back later that night but I didn't listen to his voicemail until the following day.

He apologized and explained that he was having a bad day. I was touched by the sincerity in his voice. I called him back to offer him a second chance.

I got to work early with Liz to help set up. We were outside on a break and I told her the new guy was coming today. I told her that I had this inexplicable feeling that he was going to be a smoker and that he was going to be covered in tattoos.

Almost on cue a man walked up to the building. I looked at Liz and said "I'll bet that's him."

"No way" she laughed, "he's not supposed to be here for another three hours".

The man approached and asked if either one of us was named Melissa. I told him that I was.

Turns out he was the man I had interview over the phone. And he was three hours early. Both of his arms were covered in tattoos and he reached into his pockets to find a lighter for his cigarette.

I turned to Liz and smiled "I knew it."

He handled the job very well. At first he was very quiet but I began to realize that he wasn't used to having fun at work. We broke him in with jokes and water balloon fights. We began to laugh about that time I almost didn't call him back.

The truth was his apology showed me that he had character and I was happy to have him be part of the team. His appearance suggested at someone who partied and drank a great deal, but his energy hinted at a powerful transition. He had one foot in his party life that he wasn't quite ready to let go off, and another foot ready to take the leap into establishing a powerful career. I always had the sense that he would do great thing.

One day I was walking behind him when one his tattoos caught my eye. I grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop.

"This one is your most recent one, isn't it?"
"Yeah, it is."

It was a large tattoo taking up all the space from his elbow to his wrist. It was of a Phoenix rising up from its own skeleton in a fiery blaze.

"Do you know anything about the Phoenix mythology?" I asked
"Not really" he admitted "I picked it because it looked cool."

I looked at him in shock.

"I can't believe you don't know anything about it. The Phoenix is a mythological creature that rises up from its own ashes to be born again stronger and more powerful than before. You are Phoenix."

It wasn't until after that conversation that I learned more about him. His rocky childhood, his parents divorce, and the years of wild partying and drug abuse. He was even in a coma for several days as a child because he had been hit by a car going 70 miles an hour. His doctors tried to get his parents to pull the plug on him because they were that certain that he wasn't going to make it.

Yet the man I saw before me was so different from his past. Still a product of it, he was moving in direction that would take him to such great things. You could tell he was a man who wasn't going to let his past define him.

We would always spend a little time each day talking about his life goals and what he wanted to accomplish. He had great instincts but struggled a little bit when it came to leaving some elements of his past behind. He didn't seem to get too much support from friends and family.

"I think this is why I am supposed to know you" I said to him one day. "So I can be that voice OUTSIDE your head that lets you know you are doing the right thing. You are smart, you are a hard worker, and you have the ambition that can take you anywhere in life. Sometimes you just got to shake that dust and know what's right for yourself."

He nodded.
"I hope I know you for a long time" I added, " You will go on to do so many great things."

One day I happened to be driving past his apartment on the way to work and I called to offer him a ride.

"Actually I need to talk to you" he said. "My friend got me a job where he works and I start training tonight. I don't think I can work with you anymore."

My stunned silence was taking up all the space between us. If I have to be honest with myself I knew this day would come but I didn't think it be so abrupt.

"It's nothing personal" he tried to reassure me. "I just need the money."

He was used to seeing me handle any crisis with grace and fortitude, but this time was different. This time I let the struggle show.

"How could you have so little respect for me and Liz that you would do this?" Tears welled in my eyes. "The worst part is I feel like I'm losing a friend. I've lost a lot of friends over the years but this is the first time I've lost a friend to money and that is an awful feeling. I don't think you realize how many people you beat to get this job and how highly you were respected."

He started to realize what he had done and offered to move his training back. I said no. I could tell his heart was no longer with us.

"I doubt I'm ever going to see you again and it kills me to think that this might be the last conversation I may have with you. I never wanted this to be on bad terms. I've so much respect for you and this hurts."

"I'm sorry" he said. There was a definite sadness to his voice. He wasn't expecting me to cry. I knew he wanted to say something more comforting but he couldn't find the words.

I took a deep breath. "I hope you are happy at your new job".

I was stuck in traffic for over an hour. I was still wiping tears from my face when Liz came out to greet me. She wrapped her arms around my neck and squeezed.

"I am so sorry" she said
"Me too."

My Phoenix, you are such a powerful creature. You are tougher than you realize and more loved that you will ever know. It is much harder to rise from the ashes of a fire that you started yourself, but I will always encourage you to rise. Some bridges are going to burn but that's why it's so important that you learn to fly.

Someday I want to met you again. I want you to look me in the eye and say with pride, "Look at all the things I have done."

And I smile at you and say "I know."

Love Letter for a Friend

Maybe you were the wrong person to talk with about relationships. There is nothing worse than getting served life advice from someone who has never had a problem.

Some of us gave love our all only to have our hearts stomped on in front of us. Grateful to get even a little piece back. But you were lucky. Prince Charming proposed to you in the wedding section of a bookstore. After all – what could be more charming than a cliché?

I feel like I am the only person I know who never daydreamed about living behind a white picket fence because at the end of the day it is still a fence. I never wanted to be caged.

Now lets get one thing straight: I would settle down, but I sure as hell won’t settle for less.

I have always felt like I had a realistic concept of love. I expect there to be good days and bad days. Laughter and smiles as well as tears and fights. To me that’s just the life experience. A fight is just a mechanism for coming to a solution. The only reason two people argue is because they are both right. But you would be amazed at how many people see a fight as a purely destructive force as apposed to a means of rebirth.

Love isn’t about carelessly strolling thru some fairytale garden. It’s about walking through hell together. And when you make it to the other side you can look each other in the eye and say “I would’ve have rather gone through that with you than anyone else on earth. Thank you for not letting go.”

Maybe all my struggles look silly from your point of view. You got your Prince Charming but I want a warrior. A fighter – someone who believes in courage. Not just as an idea or suggestion, but as a way of life.

This world is full of weakness and so many people find their shelter behind their white picket fences.

You got upset with me because I don’t idolize your life. You think that if I made the same choices you did that perfection will just fall in my lap. But you didn’t create what you have it was just given to you. I’ve had to work for everything and carve out a life on my own. There is a reason I’m still an artist and you are not. I didn’t let the bastards grind me down. I listened to my instincts and took risks. I trust my gut and it has lead me to some beautiful things.

I feel like you gave up your instincts in favor of a perfect life. I hope that it is worth it and I do hope you are happy. But, honey, we all hear voices. Only some of us are brave enough to admit it. You father tells you he loves you every night before you fall asleep and every time you are having a bad day. He knows how strong you are and wants you to stay that way. I hope you hear him too.

Love was never about being perfect or coloring by number. It’s not some easy formula. It is more beautiful and heartbreaking than we all thought it could be. The biggest difference between you and I is that you are trying to tame it and I am trying to live with it. 

Markings

At DRIP we throw a lot of paint around. By the time the show is over it is all over the audience, the floor, and especially the cast and crew. On this particular day I had gotten splashed with a healthy dose of red and blue. 

The red landed on my skin first, followed by blue, which took the same path as red. The colors mixed creating blurry purple lines. Most of the time I get covered in paint it just becomes spots of color. But this time it morphed into beautiful markings.

I examined it in the mirror. At first it looked like a wild bruise or veins just under the surface of my skin. It also reminded me of a jellyfish sting or those intricate lace-like burn patterns some people get after being struck by lightning. I looked down at my arm again. Everything reminded me of horrible injuries and yet I still thought the marks on my arm were beautiful.

That night was actually our sixth month anniversary of having opened the show. I have been with DRIP for about six years - almost since the beginning. I thought of all the hard work I put in and the criticism I have endured from friends and family who didn't understand why I would follow such a crazy dream. All of those things could have easily broken someone else, but they never broke me. And the beautiful markings on my arm became a reminder that all I have survived makes me a more stunning and interesting person.

The paint washes easily off my skin in the shower. But I would gladly wear these markings over and over again.