Author: Meg

Labels

/ Meg / Leave a comment

“Liberal”
“Addict”
“Homeless”
“Prostitute”
“Lesbian”
“Black”
“Poor”
“Orphan”
“Overweight”
“Hispanic”
“Narcissist”
“Christian”
“Feminist”
“Homophobe”
“Refugee”
“Conservative”
“Asian”
“Gangster”
“Atheist”
“Misogynist”
“                         “ (fill in the blank)

Labels we stamp on others (and ourselves). Aren’t we all beautiful humans, made in the image of God? Labels take away our humanity, our shared experience and our dignity.

Dissolve them.
Dissolve them.

Megan Burmester
August 2, 2018

Zero Gravity

/ Meg / 2 Comments

Walk on eggshells.
Don’t rock the boat.
It’s quite a feat to stay light on my feet.

How little must I weigh to keep from breaking eggshells?
How still must I stand to not make any waves?

I became zero gravity to navigate life with you.
Internally, I volcanoed; outwardly, I floated along,
never daring to crunch those damn eggshells or rock that boat.

I HAVE THOUGHTS OF MY OWN.
Splash!
I DON’T AGREE WITH YOU!
Crunch, crunch.
NO, I DON’T THINK SO.
Crunch, crunch, SPLASH!

I am me. I am weighty. I make waves.

Megan Burmester
August 4, 2018

 

No More Hiding

/ Meg / Leave a comment

The old projector whirs to life.
Silently, images flash on screen.
I edit heavily.
After all, no one knows the real me.
The me I project, well, I like her!

Meanwhile, in the flickering darkness,
I hide my disfigurement.
The real me, tucked away safely.

The me I project seems funny, smart, kind.
The real me? She wants to be the center of the universe.

Who gets to peek behind the curtain?
Maintaining the illusion is tiring.

The me I project fights to keep the projector running;
Fear etched onto her perfect face.
The real me emerges out of the darkness, blinking
into the Light.  No more hiding.

Megan Burmester
July 23, 2018

Middle of the Night Musings

/ Meg / 2 Comments

Do we have enough cauliflower? I think as I drift off…

That dang light is annoying!
Did I take my magnesium?

I’m awake. It’s the middle of the night and I’m awake.

I need to write that card and grate the cheese.

Is the cat barfing? If I lay quietly, pretend I’m asleep,
maybe Bean will clean it up.

I’m awake. It’s the middle of the night and I’m awake.

Stop thinking about being awake. Just rest. Shhhhhh!
Just rest… I FORGOT TO CALL SO AND SO!

What was that line of poetry I composed?
I can’t remember, dammit.

I’m awake. It’s the middle of the night and I’m awake.

My hip hurts. Oh gosh, is it something serious?
I need to stretch. Maybe I need to see a doctor?

Did I just dream about spiders, avocados and
getting my son to practice on time?

I’m awake. It’s the middle of the night and I’m awake.

I have to pee. If I lay quietly and ignore it, maybe
the sensation will go away.

What time is it? Don’t look at the clock. Just rest.
Shhhhhh. Just rest.

I’m asleep. It’s time to wake up and I’m dead asleep.

 

Megan Burmester
July 4, 2018

Inny or Outy?

/ Meg / 1 Comment

I’ve lived my whole life concerned about what others think of me.
          I care too much what others think!
Inny or Outy;
          Internally directed or outwardly led?
Do I live outwardly, hungry for approval or inwardly, approving of myself?
          Inny or Outy, what shall it be?
Will they like this poem?
          Do I like this poem? is a better question. 
I DON’T CARE WHAT OTHERS THINK,  I yell vehemently!
          Yet, I do.
Less and less, though.
          Less and less.

Megan Burmester
June 28, 2018

Zinger

/ Meg / 1 Comment

Her words slip sweetly, serenely from her lips,
slicing me deeply as they glide by.

All becomes still as I let them sink in,
razor-sharp, wounding.

Pain searing; guilt and shame crowding as usual.

Shock pulses through my body yet I’m not surprised
by the familiar hurt.

Rage spurts forth, crimson in color.
It takes everything in me to sheath my tongue,
a steely weapon.

Words. Words carelessly (or not so carelessly)
slung inflict pain, tumble out easily.
Retracting them impossible.

Carefully, I lift out the dagger.
Gently, Truth binds my wound.
Healing flows as I let go.

Megan Burmester
June 30, 2018

The Essence of Rest

/ Meg / 2 Comments

I’ve been reading about (and practicing) Sabbath observance for the last little while. Apparently, it’s the hot topic right now in the church which I find funny because it’s been in God’s mind since creation. If ever we needed convincing of God’s love for humanity, think about Sabbath. It’s one full day of rest every week.

Anyway, my usual habit is to write all I am learning about Sabbath in a funny, relatable way and subtly preach to others. However, I have only been truly observing Sabbath for a little while. I don’t want to “preach” about something in order to make myself look more spiritual or holy than I really am, though it is tempting. So, I’ll spare you.

But I did write a poem about my kitty and rest. All I ever learned about rest, I learned from my cat. (Yes, I am a crazy cat lady.)

 

The Essence of Rest

Kitty, melted into my lap,
Purrs emanating from deep within.
Mews of love and contentment mingle with his throaty murmurs.

Sabbath rest is much like this.
Love and contentment sigh out of me as I sit with my Father.
Reflecting with gratitude, love pouring between us.

Kitty curled in my lap,
ever reminding me that this place of love and rest
is exactly where I need to be.

Megan Burmester
June 17, 2018

 

 

Sad/Angry a.k.a. Sadness/Anger

/ Meg / Leave a comment

sadness. ANGER!
ANGER! sad.
Is there sadness underneath all this ANGER and vice versa?
YES! yes. yes.

sadness and ANGER tussling, wrassling, vying for dominance.
ANGRY!           sad.
ANGRYsadsadsad (dissolves into weeping.)
sadnessANGER! (escalates to YELLING!)

Believe it or not, they need each other; there is friendship between the two.
ANGER protects sadness.
sadness calms ANGER.
Both communicate.
Both reveal.
Both love at their core.

Listen.

Megan Burmester
November 9, 2017

Reflection

/ Meg / 7 Comments

I glance in the mirror.
I like what I see.
I’m staring down fifty like a semi without any brakes.
I look this way and that, observing the years etched across my face.
Half Century looming…
Full life blooming.
I can’t look away.
The reflection knowingly smiles.
I grin back.
No rejection or disgust, a first.
Only acceptance and love; an honest appraisal.
A glance in the mirror.
I like who I see.

Megan Burmester
June 9, 2018