Wednesday, September 11, 2013


Perforated lines,
Like the return portion of a bill.
Fold and rip along the tiny dots --
That is my heart, now.

I kissed you on the eyes that day -
While they were drawn closed.
It felt like warm sun rays to my air conditioned soul.

I poured out all the love I had left
In that one kiss.
Feeling as small as a child, 
Awkwardly overfilling a
Cup of lemonade.

It still wasn’t enough,
To make you laugh.
To make me change.
To save us from this.

I poured,
You drank.

You drank.
I poured...

Until my hands began to weaken
From the weight of the glass.
And the pitcher 
Fell to the floor...

“Watch out!”
You yelled, 
Hurriedly trying to tidy my mess.

Ignoring your heed, I jumped headlong toward you,
Hanging onto the cuffs of your pants.
Baring my feet to the shards beneath them.

Bleeding, I felt your arms sweep down to save me.
Ready to carry me to safety.
A dance, we knew by heart.
I jump,
You save.

You save,
I jump...

But today
It isn’t enough.
To make me safe.
To make you change.
To deliver us from this. 

Your arms begin to shake 
From the weight of anchors 
Tied to my soles.

And finally,
I fall. 
To the floor...


Friday, September 6, 2013


That’s what we are
No initiation on either of our parts 
To revive or extinguish
To enkindle or deaden
No movement
Up or down
Toward or away from the other.
We’ve chosen stasis...
Too afraid that if we bend to touch the other's heart
The uncomfortable shock of 
Chaos will ensue.
Yet, if I'm forced between chaos and this mental torpor with you,
I must choose chaos.

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Zero Scaping of the Heart

My heartbeat quickened with the noise of curses spinning in my head
Wanting nothing more than to purge these thoughts and you from my mind.
Instead I stay quiet and quickly feel tears burn my eyes.
Eyes that you once said created the most beautiful color of green 
When stained by those liquid marks of grief.
Is any part of me beautiful to you anymore?
Gutted and bare I lay before you,
Knowing I am not enough 
And realizing perhaps I never will be.
Accents of empty promises and self delusion decorate our happy home.
As long as the exterior is painted nicely
With flower beds and white picket fences,
Creating the perfect veneer for the debris inside,
No one will ever be the wiser, will they?
Especially not us.
Like monkeys in cages, 
We were so accustomed to the stench and mess
That neither one of us could smell or rid our humble abode of this fetor...
Until now...
The smell is apparent and abhorrent.
And we both finally acknowledge it.
Can this be saved?
Or is there now so much destruction, 
The only choice left is tearing it to the ground?

Monday, August 26, 2013

Flight of the Aspen: A Sequel to "The Aspen"

Breathe me in. 
Take me to our secret place, where pain evades us. Where love is paramount.
The golden shimmer of the aspen call to my soul.
They comfort me at the height of this place and seem to sing a melody of triumph to one another.
I reach out and catch a fallen note, holding it close to my chest, pushing it deep inside -- a key, for a time when I will need it most.
For a day when I will no longer hear the music. --The Aspen September, 2011

Is it time to say goodbye
When every right turn leads left?
When every dance becomes an unsyncopated nightmare?
When the rhythm has left your feet and the music has left your lungs?
My hands tremble at the thought of this new journey before me.
Not knowing if I’m running or becoming...
Something new.
I want to explore the unchartered territory within my veins.
But how do I know if I’m running toward my next adventure or simply escaping?

In my cocoon of hibernation I hear a faint but familiar sound outside.
Within moments, I feel my heart quickening.
I look down to find a diode of red, radiating from my chest.
As I reach to examine the foreign emission,
It unexpectedly bursts into a rainbow of the most brilliant colors, I’d ever witnessed -
Shades of vibrancy my eyes had never beheld.
The key! I shriek, remembering a long forgotten promise the mountains had made me.  
I scratch the surface of my skin to find the light.
With a gentle tug, attached to a ribbon, emerges a wooden key, about three inches in length and warm to the touch. 
At first glance, it resembles a key that might open the antique door of an historic home.
Yet, as I look again, golden leaves begin to sprout from the key’s bow.
I know I must move quickly before the key is enshrouded by leaves and bark--
And my chance for a new beginning is overgrown...misshapen...gone. 
If the time for the key is now, there must be a keyhole somewhere close, I reason. 
At the top of my entrapment, I see a tiny pinhole of light.
That must be it!
My fingers and the key make their way toward the only light I can see. I fumble awkwardly, as a child trying to force a square peg into a round hole. 
Twigs from the bow are growing longer and time is growing shorter for me. 
It is simply a matter of time before I will be holding a small tree, instead of the key to my freedom.
Praying, I make one last thrust at the hole above me. It slides into something. I think I found it! A perfect fit! 
My heart is pounding and I am sweating profusely as I can only guess what is waiting for me beyond this safely spun prison I had created for myself.
Taking a deep breath, I turn the latch; without warning, my cocoon breaks into a million pieces, and I am left alone... in the wilderness. The refrain is louder in this space, and with a smile, I finally recall its source...  (to be continued)

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

The Real Chronicles of Humpty Dumpty

The Real Chronicles of Humpty Dumpty --- (a work in progress)

I’m sure you’ve all heard of Humpty Dumpty, that infamous egg who took a tumble off of a wall no taller than a story high, but the tale has lived on and on through various accounts, often muddled by political activists or a well intended author, looking for an indentifiable character that the reader might be able to relate to, and the true story has never been relayed.
But looking back over such figments of ones imagination, can one person honestly tell me that a story about an egg with human characteristics, makes much sense at all, unless for decades upon decades the readers of this beloved tale were indeed lied to.

I was there the day Humpy Dumpty arrived and I was there on that fateful day when Humpty’s egg was shattered. And, people, I am ready to set an end to all this silly gossip and malingering, and set the story of his malicious behavior straight.

Who am I? I am Gertrude, very proud mother to 15 dodo birds, grand mamma to 7 grand dodos, and great grand mamma to, well let’s just not go there.  Very proud indeed I was back then. But I must tell you quite honestly that Humpty is a fraud who ruined my life and the lives of my entire species.

I was there when he first mysteriously arrived on my wall. You see, I was in my second season of a nesting phase busy using whatever piece of paper necessary, including bits of children’s story books, to create a home for my nestlings. When in flies a stork with a very mysterious package. The stork told me this was the last Dumpty on the face of the planet, and asked me kindly to care for him as he hatched.

I had never heard of a Dumpty.

And as a proud mamma to be, I said... “No, do I look stupid?” I have six dodo’s on the way and there is no possible way I could possibly stand to care for a seventh, even if he was the last of his kind (kind of ironic, now that I think of it). But the stork just left him up on my wall. And I have to admit, after a couple of nights I began to feel sorry for him.  Stuck in that oversized egg with no one to give him the love that only a real mother could. So, as I prepared my own nest, I began using leftover bits of tree limbs and paper, hoping that might shelter him from some of the storms and the wild cats who prowled the night hours. There were even times, when I would cover his unhatched shell with my body, hoping the extra warmth might give him the added boost he needed to go ahead and hatch, before my little ones arrived. But the only boost that added warmth seemed to give Humpty was a boost in size; and before long that egg was the size of a human child. 

Well, by then, he had become the talk of the town. All the townspeople gathered around to see this larger than life egg. One of the kingsmen came meandering down one day insisting the egg be cracked right then and there, so that a royal sized omelet might be made for the king and queen. I almost wish I had let him, but no my motherly instinct had to take over, and I guarded Humpty with my life.

I could no longer hold out for Humpty to hatch and I finally gave birth to 6 beautiful dodo birds. Meanwhile, Humpty stayed stuck in his egg.

At this point, I could no longer stand it, and I screamed, “Humpty, if you are going to be a part of this family, you are going to have to come out of your shell and see what the real world looks like.” And not but a moment later, did I hear, one crack then a foot emerged, a second crack then another foot emerged, a third and fourth cracks and arms were right there in front of my eyes. But this instantly became a huge problem for me, for as soon as Humpty’s appendages appeared, he began to move them around like Frankenstein’s monster. He swatted at everything around him as a grown man might swat at bees. And with one sad blow he hit my nest full of baby birds, and down the whole nest went, all of them landing on their heads. Well, I couldn’t fly, and neither could my babies. I tried to claw my way down the wall to rescue them, but my footing slipped each time. Since, Humpty had created this problem, it was time for him to solve it. By this time he was around 6 feet tall, taller than the wall. With his new appendages, he could easily make it down the wall and rescue my children. WIth all I had done to protect him, I thought he owed me that much. He agreed. But there was one problem, he couldn’t possibly see where he was going without eyes. So, I used my beak to peck out holes where I thought his eyes probably were, and a large smile, for mouth. If he wouldn’t come out of his shell, at least now he could see and talk and we could communicate. But as soon as he got a glimpse of the outside world, he froze and let out a bloodcurdling scream. “NO!!! I can’t,” he whined. I tried to reason with him, telling him that he couldn’t possibly hurt himself by falling a distance shorter than he. I begged him, stating that my children were much to young and couldn’t possibly survive down there by themselves. All he needed to do was simply walk down the wall and hand my children back up to me. Or if that was too difficult he could simply take me down the wall with him, and reunite me with my children. But he wouldn’t listen to reason. He covered his ears and began to wail. “What do you need them for, when you have me, the greatest egg in the world?” he exclaimed. For someone so full of fear, he had a big head. I decided if he wouldn’t help me, I would do this on my own. My children’s lives were at stake. So, I climbed down the nearby dodo tree, pecking grooves for beak and claw holds. After hours of climbing, I reached the bottom, only to find my children being carted away in a pen by one of the king’s men...

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

The Ache

I catch your gaze from across the room.
You smile.
Drawing myself within inches of you,
I look deep into the variation of blues stamped on your iris -
Studying them as if it was the first time we met. I now realize my breathing has become labored,
And my face is flushed. Sitting close enough to feel your warmth makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
With a solicitous smile, I pray you read my mind and make the next move:

To feel your hands,
Untempered and unrestrained-
Skin singing,
Brain reeling,
Eyes filled with uncensored hunger.
Your smile buried in my lips.
Like finding a treasure in the sweetness of a honey suckle,
Your tongue doesn’t rest until it’s tasted every inch of my body.
Pulling for flesh,
Teeth branding skin,
A tumultuous storm of two bodies crashing together...

“What?” You give me an odd look, shattering the walls of my unspoken day dream.
I shake my head. “Nothing,“ I say,
Moving myself back and away from what I desperately want in that moment --
Afraid any excuse for lack of desire from you, will knock the wind out of me.
Trying hard to choke back tears, I ask myself,

At what point in our marriage did things fall flat -- where we became more of best friends than lovers?

I grind my teeth hoping to counteract the emptiness and feelings of rejection now present in the pit of my stomach.

“Took me going to three stores, but I got your favorite popcorn,” you smile at me, handing me a bowl of freshly popped carmel corn. “You ready to watch that movie?”

“Yeah,” I sigh, in a robotic tone, seriously disappointed that my plans of romance had been thwarted by yet another movie night.

And then, I look at you, with patches of white in your hair, and a few more lines on your face than you had when we first met; and, I wonder if there have been occasions or even years where you, too, have ached for me (the woman you first fell for, now corroded by illness) silence.

You put your arm around me and nuzzle closer. Kissing the top of my head, you whisper, “I love you.”
In that moment, I realize there have been a few people with whom I've had extraordinary nights of passion;
But, only one of those persons would ever drive to three different stores in search of my favorite popcorn...or to find the perfect flower for no special occasion, or make me comfort food when I am sick. This kind of person and this kind of love is hard to come by.

There are compromises in any marriage.

So tonight, if sitting cozied up next to you, eating the best popcorn, while watching the worst movie, is one of those compromises, I will gladly accept it... and consider myself blessed.

But, don't think I won't cop a feel.

Sunday, July 14, 2013


The day He danced over you -
A performance of perfect élan.
Every movement an architected rhythm,
As He wove you into creation.

(This was written as a birthday present for a friend, but I hope it may also remind others of how important and special we all are in His sight.)

Friday, May 31, 2013


His steel blue eyes soaked through my skin, leaving a warmth I’d never known.
His smile, a cage of butterflies unleashed into my stomach.
His voice, a fortress for my uncertainties.
His arms, my strength, my shelter,
draping around my body like a warm quilt in winter.
His large hands, interlocking with mine, making me dainty and beautiful.
His words, a bridge to unexplored terrain and new adventures awaiting me.
His feet, joining mine to dance when the rain came.
His body, a bit worn from our travels and travails, but continuing to move forward…
Side by side.
His heart… it’s the only thing missing.
Long ago, when my heart stopped beating,
He opened my chest, and placed his heart beside mine.
Before long, new life rushed to me.
With my new found vitality, the color quickly began to drain from his cheeks.
This gift was too much!
He was dying.
There was nothing to do, but return his heart to him.
I reached inside, grasping for one strong pulse.
I maneuvered and pulled, but his heart would not budge from my body.
It was attached, as if it were my own.
I reached in for one last tug
And noticed there was not one, but two pulses…
Two heartbeats!
My own heart lay there loose and detached,
as if it were a map, guiding me…
to steel blue eyes, a smile that made my stomach turn, large, gentle hands.
I was no longer my heart’s rightful owner.
I placed it inside him, gently kissing his lips, as air and life returned to him.
My heart now belonged to him.

Friday, March 29, 2013


Guts to the ground,
Heart in the sky,
Sun singing,
Earth crumbling...
Nothing to cling to,
But the dichotomy before this
Sunday's sermon ringing freshly in her ears
Matched against the allure of dishwater blonde hair...
Push it inside!
And golden-green eyes...
Push it deep inside
Your mind!

Where good girls guard themselves from temptation
With fire and brimstone wedged between their knees,
As the stench of hormones lingers awkwardly in the air.
Ssshh!! Don’t speak about it!!
The thought itself is sin!

A muscular arm tossing a ball,
Short, curly hair to run fingers through,
Full lips and tongues entangled...
She slaps her hand hard to stop the thoughts from overtaking her,
To escape to a place where butterflies no longer roam freely in her stomach
Whenever she thinks of this first childhood crush.
She kneels beside her bed
And dutifully repeats her nightly prayer-
Grasping for something that might release her from the grotesque feeling of being pulled in two.
And with an aching heart she cries,
Dear God, I’ll do anything. Please take away these feelings. Please don’t let me be gay.

For those children and teenagers who’ve prayed endless prayers and cried an abundance of teardrops…
God loves you, just the way you are! by Tracy Medberry Copyright 2013

Saturday, March 2, 2013

One Nation Under Pharma

Fidgety digits twisting a worn-labeled bottle between winter-cracked skin.
The first meal of the day I usually sang every morning.
But, today, nothing fills my stomach, as I stare contemplatively at an empty bottle.
I hate everything for which they stand:
A prisoner among an egregious amalgamation of chemicals.
One more guinea pig trapped in a spinning hamster wheel of politics,
Where the rich pigs, fatten their bellies,
And the poor simply get hooked...
On the next best gimmick.
Snake oil, wrapped in pretty, petty, sound bites
Where emotionally solicitous poppy fields dance across my flat screen.
The scant trace - a tiny warning of side effects,
A blur, amidst the promise land awaiting you.

"The hook brings you back," the old Blues Traveler song, teases me into the present,
Along with nausea and electric shocks invading my skull,
Reprimanding me for missing last night's dose;
Only one phone call away to some sense of normalcy.   

The concept of normalcy alludes and taunts me in the same breath.

Normalcy- where symptoms are hidden behind a Venetian blind 
That opens to a myriad of side effects -
The root of the problem seldom removed, at best, subdued. 

Doctors turning tricks for drug companies, 
Naively believing, as did we, in the panacea that was promised-
That a miracle could be found in one tiny pill..
Or three...
Or four...
Or fourteen.
If not, and the bag of tricks runs dry,
"Perhaps it's in your head and you should try the psychiatrist down the street.
I heard he has a wonder drug that should help
With that new mental problem I've now added to your chart."

"The hook brings you back." Blues Traveler returns to my brain.
Perhaps a wise mystic, cautioning me.
Unbearable pain, nausea, and brain zaps are on the opposite side of that meager argument
 Persuading me otherwise;
And I'm not ready for the hell of  "discontinuation syndrome",  today.
I hold the empty bottle in my hand and reach for the phone.
I assuage the deep feeling of defeat and enslavement with one thought:
"They must not be that bad for me. My doctor took an oath":
 Do no harm.

My personal journey. Not intended for medical advice. Copyright 2013

Sunday, February 24, 2013

Ben Affleck - A Winning Film Within the 2012 Films

"Ben Affleck" - the winning FILM (story) within the Oscars this year! The story: Main character fails, he learns. He gets kicked down, he stands up again...a little higher than before. And the moment the main character thinks all hope is lost, he rises above those who told him he was less. And the audience...oh the audience, is on the edge of their seats cheering him on! Because they've all been metaphorically in the same spot.
Inspirational! A must see (and remember) film of the year!!

Congrats to Ben Affleck and the rest of the Argo gang! Thank you for a brilliant film and teaching us a valuable lesson tonight! May you have many years of success!

Thursday, January 3, 2013



by so much emotion,

my stained glass belly burst into a thousand pieces,

roaring through space and time,


tearing into your flesh

imprinting a piece of me




And, at last, I wonder. . .

have I the right?

Then, groping in the darkest recesses of my soul
find the broken finger that carries shame like a diamond ring,
Pointed awkwardly at me.
I hold it with grace, and turn it rightfully away.