The Girl with the Unbeatable Score (Mad Max Mayfield)

I thought I'd gotten used to the process

of things getting broken— 

broken home, broken promises.

Watching your brother's bones break

while screaming in the background 

is different.

The truth is I’ve been running
long before the moment my world shattered, 
the moment that still threatens 

to steal all my will from me.

I didn’t want anyone to see that.
Why should they?
I rolled past complications
as fast as my skateboard would take me.

I never thought grief would be
the speedbump flinging me into the dark,
where even my friends can’t find me.

I met a girl,
on the verge of forgetting her magic.

I reminded her
no guy gets to define her
choices or her power.

I met a boy
full of imagination and loyalty.

We reminded each other
that choosing love
usually means choosing to be real.

I met a monster
who reminded me I could drown,

choking on contradictions of love and hate
while I torture myself
with every variation of “what if”.

(What if the world hadn't ground you down first?

What if I shouted louder?

What if we were better to each other?

What if I wasn't a screwup?)

I met myself

in the darkness, tying my spirit
to notes and words
strong enough to wrap around my heartbreak.

All I can do now is hope
that it’s enough to remind myself

I’m the girl who stands up to grownups and monsters,
the one with the unbeatable score,
and I can outrun this moment.

By Rommy Cortez-Driks

Song Choice: What else but that scene from Stranger Things? Warning, if you aren't caught up (and you plan to be at some point) listen to this cover of Running Up That Hill by Rain Paris instead.

Liner Notes for This Groove: This poem was created for the Friday Writings post at Poets and Storytellers United, TV Time.

this is what it's like

this is what it means to be alive: 

coming in from an icy rain,

too petulant to be proper snow

you sit near a fire

with plastic logs that never burn

but are thankful

for the warmth and the view

 

this is what comfort tastes like—

a delight of mingled simple and familiar

flavors in a perfect bowl of rice

 

you eat and remember stories

about a god in every grain of rice

and a god of rice and foxes

 

for a moment you are a child again,

pretending you are a happy fox

in a den miles away from

human decisions and consequences

 

you eat slow, so slow,

greeting the god in every grain,

indie rock serenading the traveling gods

as their journey intersects yours

 

this is what it’s like remembering

you don’t want the jarrito

because even almost a year later,

it will still taste like tears instead of pineapple

the tears will come anyway,

so you may as well have the jarrito

 

this is what it’s like remembering,

laughter still exists 

and it feels so good to laugh with a lover 

about wisteria in the winter

although spring is so far away

 

you remind yourself

this is what it’s like to be alive,

warm, and sated—a blessing

 

of food in the belly,

music and laughter in the background,

in spite of the storm.

Photo by Maurice Sahl on Unsplash

By Rommy Cortez-Driks

 

Song Choice: What a Wonderful World covered by The Ramones

 

Two Unexpected

Two unexpected
seeds dropped.

One on a winter evening
when it had the indecency
to rain instead of snow.

One on a summer afternoon
when sunshine pulled out
everyone from inside the house.

Why go out
and expose flesh
to numbing rain

for just dinner and a movie
when there’s a perfectly good bed?

Why stay inside
a stifling room
when a breeze from the bay
feels so good on skin 

on skin in the shade?

One winter day. One summer day.
The company was more than fine.

Perhaps we should have been a little less surprised
at how life (and love) grows in welcoming spaces
despite the whims of the weather.

Photo by Bastien Jaillot on Unsplash

By Rommy Cortez-Driks

Song Choice: Closing Time covered by Wendy Child

Liner Notes For This Groove: This poem was created for the Weekly Scribblings prompt at Poets United, Sudden Moments.

Everyday

Everyday 

there’s a new blue sky
waiting for me
to disturb all the earth
thrown upon me
the day before,
and see if I’ll come dancing.

Everyday 

there's a new spark,

either hiding in the curl of a leaf

or out in plain sight

in the curve of my love's smile

strong enough 

to remind my heart what it's there for.

And all is made new again.

Taylor Van Riper on Unsplash

By Rommy Cortez-Driks

Song Choice: Brand New Day by Sting

Liner Notes for This Groove: This poem was created for the Weekly Scribblings prompt at Poets and Storytellers United, Starting A New Relationship. You can start a new relationship with a day, right?

Monster Heart

Here is my monstrous
heart. I remember
when bile didn’t mix with blood
as it traveled through
un-gouged walls.

I don’t trust it
not to alarm the unwary
with its feral beat
and shadow roaring
reverberating around old scar tissue.


But I will trust you, always,
with the truth of the stories
behind each scab and bloodied bit,

because this truth,
odd and unshapely,
is the most precious thing
I have to give.

Photo by Dušan Veverkolog on Unsplash

By Rommy Cortez-Driks

Song Choice: Broken But Beautiful by Kelly Clarkson

Liner Notes for This Groove: This poem was created for the Weekly Scribblings prompt given at Poets and Storytellers United. I chose to work with the phrase "Love can be a monster, or not."

Was It?

Was it you

that kissed me

in the darkest part of the night?

Was it the warmth

of your breath

that announced that intention,

with a soft sigh that lingered

long enough for my lips to part

and receive you?

Let me explain a few things.

I have been taught to question my instincts— 

no—even more than that—

I’ve been made to question

simple things, like shapes and colors,

obvious to the youngest school child.

I mistrust joy 

that just lands in my lap,

demanding nothing

but my acknowledgement.

And you, you,

are no simple joy.

Will it be you

there, when I open my eyes

after the dark, dark has passed,

waiting, with another kiss ready for me?

I really do hope so.

Photo by Ryan Young on Unsplash

 

Song Choice: Strong Enough performed by  The Chicks (formerly known as the Dixie Chicks)

This poem was created for the prompt given over at Poets and Storytellers United, Weekly Scribblings #32, I Am Explaining A Few Things

By Rommy Cortez-Driks

When Even the Moon Hides Its Face

Come love, let me kiss the back of your neck

or hold you while you scream.

You do not have to make any excuses to me.

Stay love. Let me hold you awhile.

Your truest dark holds no horrors for me.

I’ve been honored to sit within it with you.

Anyone can swear to love by sunlight,

but I will love you in the darkness of soul

when even the moon hides its face.

Song Choice: Groovy Kind of Love by Phil Collins

Photo by El Salanzo on Unsplash

Liner Notes for this Groove: This poem was created for the prompt given at Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads: Thirteen Poetic Bits of Kerry  Magaly asked us to choose one of Kerry's lovely poetic bits an use it as a springboard for our poetry. I chose "I will love you in the darkness of soul" from Sonnet 42 of Kerry's If I Could Go Back sonnet series. Thank you Kerry for all organizing you have done throughout the years to keep Toads running. I am happy to have been a part of this space.

By Rommy Cortez-Driks

The Best Worst Thing: Blogging Around with Rommy, Week 39

When my high school sweetheart told me he wanted to break up with me "to date more classically beautiful women" it came as something of a blow. Yeah, even after people told me that high school relationships don't last, and that goes double for ones that turn into long distance things when people go off to college. What can I say? I was kind of clueless when I was young. There were warning signs things weren't rock solid between us, but it took that pronouncement to make things 100% clear it was over.

Of course I cried. I raged. My grades wobbled (the death blow arrived right before finals). Meals came and went untouched. Then one day I took a deep breath and looked at the new reality I found myself in. I didn't have to run back home every weekend anymore. I could be part of college life on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights. I started to realize there was a whole side of myself I never let myself explore, because I had made some pretty big assumptions about what I thought my life was going to be like. 

I took art classes. I liked them enough to decide to minor in them. I started learning about religious traditions other than the one I was born into. I kept exploring them for years afterwards until I could admit to myself my path was more something to be sought by starlight than from a church pew. I started talking to the guy who lived one floor below me in the dorms. He was funny, sweet, and always had a mug of coffee ready for me. Dear reader, I married him. Today we're celebrating the birthday of our oldest child and we'll be married 25 years next May.

That I ever hoped that I could patch things up with my ex seems hysterical now. The other thing that's funny--he's the one who wanted to be a writer back then. Yeah, sometimes your world ends, but that can end up being the best worst thing that can happen.

Song Choice: So Much Better from the musical Legally Blonde

This article was created for Poets United's Moonlight Musings. So dear Groovers, care to talk about some of your best worst things? Let's chat about in the comments section!

By Rommy Cortez-Driks

Appetizer

Indigo sky witnesses

the scarlet gift

I bestowed upon your cheek.

It is only a trinket

expressing my pleasure in this dance.

My real tribute to your skill will come later.

Song Choice: Bailando by Enrique Iglesias ft. Sean Paul, Descemer Bueno, Gente De Zona

Photo from Pexels.com

Liner Notes for This Groove: This cherita was created for the Weekend Mini-Challenge at Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads. Magaly asked us to go back and pick two prompts to combine into a short poetry bit (senryu, cherita, or elfchen). I chose Bits of Inspiration ~ You Write the Color and Just One Word: Trinket.

By Rommy Cortez-Driks

Taming of the Food Satan: Blogging Around with Rommy Week 21

Bounty equals bane

when it weakens strong resolve.

Love adjusts its course.

This poem is linked up to Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads' Tuesday Platform.

Liner Notes For This Groove: While I can’t say I’m in bad physical shape, I’ve been trying hard to get better. I’m becoming a champ at sportsball (scored the winning goal last week). I’m also stronger enough in general that I noticed I’m a lot smoother getting up and down from full seiza position in a kimono. But as everyone knows, no health regimen is complete without taking food into consideration.

That’s where things get tricky. My dear, sweet, loving husband has a dark side. Our friends have given him a nickname to describe it—Food Satan. This man knows what tempts you. He can find a gourmet shop in the wilderness (no really, once on a vacation in Maine, in a cabin on an island where you can go days without seeing anyone who isn’t in the cabin with you, he found a store specializing in fancy food and brought a ton of it back with him). People like putting him in charge of bringing food because not only can he find the tastiest prepared treats, he’s also a pretty amazing cook.

My husband is also one of those people who shows love through food. And if you haven’t guessed by reading some of my poetry, we still really dig each other. So for much of my marriage I’ve been showered in impromptu treats of fancy chocolates, beautifully prepared steaks, assorted rich desserts, and matcha lattes. There have been times, when like Jane Austen I'd declare, “But indeed I would rather have nothing but tea.” And he'd return with tea—and a caramel-chocolate-nut-carbohydrate bomb that equals half the caloric requirement a woman my size needs for the day.

 

I know this was a goofy meme, but I'd seriously hang this up as a print in my house.

Changes needed to be made.

It is still a work in progress. I’ve had to remind him occasionally that while I love his thoughtfulness, maybe when it comes to food it’s best not to “surprise” me. But this last Sunday when he went out in search for a cup of coffee from one of his favorite shops he asked me if I wanted a latte first. I told him I had already planned to whip up a lower calorie, homemade version with one of my favorite teas as a treat. And all he brought home that day for me was a kiss.

But he the next day he came home with a ton of turkey bacon and lamb steaks. Yeah, baby steps…baby steps.

By Rommy Cortez-Driks

Song Choice: Everybody Eats When They Come to My House by Cab Calloway

He’s My Cup of Tea: Blogging Around with Rommy Week 19

“If you are cold, tea will warm you;

if you are too heated, it will cool you;

if you are depressed, it will cheer you;

if you are excited, it will calm you.”

― William Ewart Gladstone

He’s my cup of tea,

surprisingly mellow to a tongue

that’s only tasted bitter brews before.

Curiousity made me sip

his sweetness. I was addicted

the moment my lips drank him in.

This poem is linked to Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads' Tuesday Platform.

Liner Notes for this Groove: When my husband and I started dating, we agreed it was just going to be a fling. He was a senior you see, graduating in a few months, and I had another year of college to go. Plus there was a bigger concern. He came from a family of observant Jews and my family was Latin American and devoutly Catholic. Nobody saw this relationship lasting more than a couple of months, least of all us.

So this week we’re celebrating our 24^th wedding anniversary. We’ve survived language barriers (he only passed high school Spanish by promising the teacher he’d never take it again), religion changes (well I did convert to being something other than Catholic), kids, and other assorted mayhem. He’s been more than my rock, he’s been my cup of tea—filled to the brim with warmth when things got cold, and encouragement when I needed to take on the world.

So Groovers talk to me about your week. What’s good in your world? If you’d like to take the conversation to your blog, make sure to include a link to your cyberspace in your comments.

Song choices: I felt I needed to pick two songs for this, one for each of us. First up, Love Will Never Do (Without You) by one of my childhood favorites, Janet Jackson. Second, is a song we both really love, Stuck like Glue by Sugarland, but a special AMV video version featuring Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable (the husband often says that I’m his Kim Possible – yes he’s as nerdy as I am).

By Rommy Cortez-Driks

Mazel Tov by HotRod2001

Patience's Price

I knew before I left

that I might not find you easily

in a kaleidoscope world

that only doles out little teases of you

refracted then spread out in the open…

the mischief in your eye,

the way your hair falls just so

waiting for my hand

to push a rebel strand back into place…

fragments of you everywhere

making me yearn all the harder

for the whole of you,

though I had resigned myself

to patience. I grit my teeth

enduring counterfeit shades

and the tedium in between false glimpses.

Those will never satisfy me

when I know the true taste of you

will be savored when the time is right.

By Rommy Cortez-Driks

Contact by MagicLoveCrow

See more of her enchanting art at her blog and her Etsy shop.

Liner Notes for this Groove: This poem was created for Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads' Weekend Mini-Challenge - Just One Word: Apart. I've also linked it to Poets United Poetry Pantry 479.

Song Choice: Everywhere by Michelle Branch

I Brought My Heart to San Francisco: Blogging Around with Rommy Week 16

Hello Groovers! This post is being birthed at 30,000 feet in the air, somewhere over South Dakota. My husband and I are just getting back from our vacation to San Francisco. This is the first time we’ve been on a plane without our kids since our honeymoon!

To say we’re a bit different from the twenty-somethings we were back then is an understatement. While the hubs is still very much a foodie, we’ve had to plan meals very carefully around his diabetes. And though my city-walking skills are still pretty strong (thanks to skills honed when I visit a certain Marine in her NYC home), those San Francisco hills are no joke. Also my right shoulder gets achy if I try carrying anything on it for too long.

This picture does not do the insane angle of this street justice, but you get the idea.

But one thing we still do pretty well is respect each other’s needs and compromise where we can. My husband’s shoulders were well equipped to carry some of the fun stuff we bought when my shoulder was screaming “Uncle!” His legs got tired more easily than mine, which meant we had to scrap some of our more ambitious walking trips this time around. But since our hotel was in the heart of Japantown, we made plenty of visits to the local shops (I got some nifty tea dogu).

The door to our room at Hotel Kabuki

He got to have what he called the best cup of coffee he’s had in his life at Café Trieste after we paid a visit to the famous City Lights bookstore (of course I got a book of poetry). Dodie Smith once wrote, “I shouldn't think even millionaires could eat anything nicer than new bread and real butter and honey for tea.” It wasn’t the poshest Saturday night ever, but it was a really pleasant one, topped off with good conversation with friends we met up with while there. With such lovely simple pleasures to enjoy, in such good company, what more could I ask for?

So how was your week dear Groovers? What’s exciting in your world? Talk to me a little bit about it in the comments section. And do drop in a link to your cyberhome if you’d like to elaborate upon it there.

In the meanwhile here’s a bit of San Fran inspired poetic thoughts I’ll be sharing at Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads’ TuesdayPlatform.

I’ll bumble my way

buzzing over flowers

I’ve never seen before.

But those can wait for me
to stop and share nectar I've found

from my lips to yours.  

By Rommy Cortez-Driks

The stripes on my socks made me think of bumble bees.

Of course that could be the jet-lag talking. 

Thankfully I bought a lot of tea to help me through it.

Song Choice: Meet in the Middle by Diamond Rio

A Gift of Moonlight

I drew my first breath

in the land where the wild things are.

Things are different on his side of reality.

He can exist only in a small wrinkle in time

of my life. I don’t want to think about

the one hundred years of solitude

that must follow once that wrinkle is ironed out.

But in this space, in this time

where we exist together

I want to do right by his heart,

as tender and fast burning as it is.

I can’t—won’t—change my nature.

There is too much moonlight in me.

But in the time we do have

my moonlight is his.

Song Choice: I'll Stand By You by The Pretenders

Liner Notes for this Groove: This poem was created for the Weekend Mini-Challenge at Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads: 1 Poem, 3 Titles. I used the titles Where the Wild Things Are, A Wrinkle in Time, and One Hundred Years of Solitude. This also is an expansion of a blackout/found poetry bit that I created using a page from my short story collection, The Trouble with Wanting and Other Not-Quite Faerie Tales. Since this piece comes from the story, "Make Mischief, Not War" I wrote it from the point of view of a character in the story, Cordelia, a relatively young fae girl who is bored by the idea of human wars, but is willing to go along if it means keeping her human friend, Gwydion, safe.

By Rommy Cortez-Driks

This page comes from the story "Make Mischief, Not War"
To see more blackout/ found poetry, pop over to my Instagram.

I'd Still Kiss Him Under the Bleachers: Blogging Around with Rommy Week 5

No shortage of doubt

lies in my pessimist’s heart.

You ground my storming

soul, once ready to give up,

until you smile and say, “Fly”.

This poem is linked up to Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads’ Tuesday Platform and Poets United's Poetry Pantry 440.

“Before Elle had come into his life, he didn't even know what tea was. Now it was a staple. Worse, he actually knew the differences in teas.”

― Christine Feehan, Hidden Currents

Liner Notes for this Groove:

Anyone who’s met me in real life knows that like Cinderella’s carriage, I turn into a pumpkin when it gets late enough—though usually I’m lucky to make it to 10 p.m., let alone midnight. So this one night my husband and I were driving home from our friends’ place well past 10. I was fading fast and asked my husband to find something on the radio. I don’t know how he did it, but he flipped through and found a Latin freestyle block. At the first few notes from Debbie Deb I started to perk up. When Cynthia and Johnny O started up the duet that always got me moving at high school dances, I was singing along. But not the husband.

See, while these tunes were a staple of my coming of age in Elmwood Park, NJ his teen years on Philadelphia’s Main Line didn’t expose him to much Latin freestyle, even if he had bothered making it to a dance. But he knows what I like. He knows, like the character in the quote above, what the difference in teas are even though he’s a dedicated coffee drinker. And he knows how important writing is to me. I’ve had more than a few times I’ve felt discouraged by lack of support from places I thought I’d get it from (Yo, maybe wait until I leave the room to discuss how you can’t be bothered having my book in your house? K’thanks). He’s not only been the cheerleader I needed after moments like that, he’s also there backing me up when I need quiet time to write, and making sure I have the tea I need to get to the word count I want.

So I never made out with him under the bleachers while dancing to Clave Rocks. I doubt he knows the tune to ShowMe, let alone the words. But this pumpkin made it to midnight that night. And you can sure as hell bet I kissed the prince.

Kiki and Tombo, fan art by Zerochan

This movie is a favorite of both my husband' and me.

So dear Groovers, is there something you learned more about or some skill you picked up because of a significant other? Tell me all about it in the comments section, or just catch me up on what's doing with you this week. And as always if you have a cyberhome where you'd like to take the conversation a little deeper, talk to me about it in the comments and add your link there.

By Rommy Cortez-Driks

Song Choice: Head to Toe by Lisa Lisa andthe Cult Jam

Whispers to a Stone

The stones believed me when I told them
how I felt about you.
They will expect me to keep my promises,
but I know they will keep my secret.

Don't expect me
to drip sugar from my mouth,
begging you to change who you are.

You would not be you
without your frustrating idealism,
rushing off to do battle
while forgetting there are holes in your armor.

I don't want you not to be you.
But I will never be anything but myself.

I am not demure.
I do nothing half-way.
That includes standing by you,

using all my power to shield
the vulnerable parts you overlooked
and keep safe all the things you love,
while I keep true to the words
that, for now, I will only speak to the stones.



Song Choice: America's Sweetheart by Elle King

This poem is linked to the Tuesday Platform over at Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads and Poets United, Poetry Pantry 420. If you are a longtime reader of the blog you may have had a flash of recognition at some of the tags. This is a poem from the point of view of Cordelia, a character I have written about on this blog before.

By Rommy Cortez-Driks

The Trouble With Wanting

You're what I dreamed of
before I learned some dreams come with a cost.

I've watched a tender heart
mutilate everything she was
on the assumption her love could cross any barrier.

Still, I reach for you,
until I remember a promise made
over the dissolving remains of a life.

What would it be like
to bring you into my world?
I've seen you looking, enchanted,
just as I was enchanted with a place that is not my own.

Would that look stay
when I tell you everything?
Would you accept all of it,
not expecting me to cut away the core of myself?

I've seen the way you smile,
and for a moment let myself dream
of nights spent hiding nothing,
loving hard enough to dissolve barriers instead of hearts.

But some dreams come with a cost
and I don't know if I can pay for this one.

By Rommy Cortez-Driks

Song Choice: Rewrite the Stars, from the musical The Greatest Showman

This poem is linked up to the Tuesday Platform at Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads and Poets United, Poetry Pantry #416.

A Little Silver

The first time I woke to your smiling face was decades ago. We started the day off saying this was only temporary, but ended the evening admitting we were very wrong. I've been lucky to have many more years of things to be wrong about.

The sunlight reveals
wrinkles concealed by stubble.
A little silver
doesn't faze me. Any time spent
loving you is a treasure.

Song Choice: Stuck Like Glue by Sugarland. I had to go with the video featuring clips from one of my and my husband's favorite cartoons, Kim Possible.

This tanka prose piece is linked to Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads' Tuesday Platform. I wrote it especially in honor of my 23rd wedding anniversary yesterday.

By Rommy Cortez-Driks

Gold

Weary, I stumble
again. My brokenness is
all I bring. My heart
is perfect enough you say,
finding the gold in each crack.

Song Choice: Everything by Alanis Morissette 

This poem is linked up with Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads' Tuesday Platform.

By Rommy Cortez-Driks

A Drop of Jasmine

I only need a drop of jasmine to weave into the corkscrew vines of my garden. It is already dew-kissed knowing you will slip in just as night begins to lap up the sky as it explodes into stars.  

My tongue led along

constellations of freckles

reaches towards your bliss.

Song Choice: Love Reign O'er Me by The Who


This poem was created for the prompt given at Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads: Fireblossom Fridays Poetic Imagery. It is also linked to the Friday 55 at Verse Escape and Poets United Poetry Pantry #397.

By Rommy Cortez-Driks