Overwhelm (The Clutter Song)
February 2018
VERSE
Spent the last 20 minutes
Staring down a pile of papers
Not sure who won that contest
But it’s giving me the vapors
I’d like to outside and play
And join the world of people
But right now I feel stuck
Watching the monster piles creep all
Over the house
CHORUS
I’m Oh-Ver-Whelmed with clutter
Can’t get it outta my head
I’m Oh-Ver-Whelmed with clutter
It’s gonna over run my bed
Can’t see my way clear
Don’t know what to do
There’s a riptide of stuff sweeping me away
Could you help, help pull me through?
VERSE
A rising tide lifts all boats
But this is smothering my life
Was gonna write a book, but I lost my notes
Guess I’ll just sit here and hide
What do people do
When they feel this way
How do they keep the darkness out
And the clutter at bay?
I’ll wait…(I have to, the door’s stuck shut)
CHORUS
I’m Oh-Ver-Whelmed with clutter
Can’t get it outta my head
I’m Oh-Ver-Whelmed with clutter
It’s gonna over run my bed
Can’t see my way clear
Don’t know what to do
There’s a riptide of stuff sweeping me awayy
Could you help, help pull me through?
VERSE
Just sittin’ here now
Singin’ this song
In a tiny voice
If I do it any louder,
The house’ll come down
In a crash of thunder
I put out a note
Out the window
For the postman to see (oh, please see)
Now I wait…
And now I wait….
(beat)
CHORUS
I’m Oh-Ver-Whelmed with clutter
Can’t get it outta my head
I’m Oh-Ver-Whelmed with clutter
It’s gonna over run my bed
Can’t see my way clear
Don’t know what to do
There’s a riptide of stuff sweeping me awayy
Could you help, help pull me through?
Oh look there’s a light
Someone’s comin’ through
Could be George or Bonnie or Danny or Sue
I need help, I bet you do too
Together we can pull, we can pull on through
Outta this mess!
Liz Huff Copyright 2018
Three Purrs and a Window (Meditation on a Tigger)
April 5, 2018
Three Purrs and A Window
Sometimes I feel bad for my cat.
He just wants to be near me; he follows me around, thinking we’ve settled in one place only for me to remember I need a plate, a kleenex, that book I left by the front door.
He dutifully gets up and plods along behind me; I can practically hear the sigh under his furry breath when he nears my latest destination, only to see me turn and move elsewhere.
He purrs a lot, this cat.
He emits purrs almost without reservation, which is an unusual thing for a feline. Such a deep reservoir of sound, audible across a room, tangible up close. I wonder sometimes if the well will run dry. Has a cat ever run out of purrs?
We play a game of chase: he’ll run up to me, stop short, and gallop away, rocking horse style, hiding behind a green velvet chair. I run by the chair, he leaps out, paws upraised, as though to bring down an errant gazelle. I cackle madly, full of glee, and continue running to the end of the living room and back, around the stove, through the kitchen. He attempts to cut me off at the pass between the sink and the window alcove, again with the gazelle thwarting leap. I laugh, he collapses in his favorite chair, and purrs.
My heart flips over in the cognizance of joy.
Copyright Liz Huff 2018
Butterfly/love (A short reflection on change…)
When push comes to shove,
I often find myself on the receiving end
of stubbornness:
My own resistance to change,to life’s attempts to rearrange
my tidy kingdom.
I swat away helping hands:demands, however gentle they may be,wear like sandpaper on my skin;thinly veiled reprimandsissued from soul to self:
“Don’t be so needy, so greedy.You can stand on your own two feet,Alone.”
Yes, but once I’ve learned to stand,there is no shamein leaningon friendly armsthe harms of bad relationshipare not to be found here.
Today is not yesterday.I am more than I was.We are settled in space,a kind of lovely sweet grace,that embraces this new be-ing.
Full of gratitude,Wishing for latitude to be grantedfrom and to my ornery selfI sit in silence and take it in.
My life, all life, hard won.I will not will it away - no matter how tempting the old ways.Today’s a better place
and only just begun.
As the "news" rolls by..
Every day -
day afterday
after -
like the worst ticker tape parade
you can imagine -
the headlines roll by
the massacres
the injustices
the childbridesthe sextrafficking
Then like a paint bomb
the latest ridiculous
outrageof some minor celebrity
washes up over the screen
obliterating
that which we would prefer
not
to have seen
anyway.
I've felt it myself
"fatigue", they call it -
Tired of hearing about war,
we are tired
of all the bad news
from abroad;
we change
our channels
dull our minds as we sit in flannels
sipping hot chocolate
and eating ice-cream.
But what about the people on the
other side of
that screen
the ones
wearing fatigues
the ones whose bakeries are destroyed
under the theory that bread is life
- if you destroy their access to
bread
you destroy their life
I don't know what
I can do about all this
what can we do about all this
is life really all about this
how do we allow this?
Sometimes at night I dream
I am running, screaming
hiding
I wake,wonder if I'm bleeding
from the bombs others are feeling
is someone reaching out to me
from their dreams?
Halfway across the world
yes, believe it or not it's the same world
even as I sit here listening to Ella Fitzgerald,
"they can't take that away from me"
right now
A could-have-been me is losing, has lost
everything.
Even here in my own town
Freedoms I squander for granted
are supplanted by our very own human traffickers
out of sight
under our noses
rarely are we supposing
it could happen *here*
but - it does.
Amanda, Gina and Michelle
what kind of hell have you been
through
just a few miles away from
where I live?
All too easy it is not to "see"
all too easy to walk down the street
ignoring the signs nipping at our feet
like mongrels hoping for scraps of our
attention.
My intention is to be different.
What is yours?
"We are but dust"
“We are but dust”
But the dust is beautiful
Tiny grains of ever earth
All that is human
Animal
Flori-mineral
Beautiful.
A handful blown into sunny motes
Contains a thousand trips
down highway six,
the remains of
family vacation
meals on the side-away
byways
powder from your mother’s compact
resin from bow of brother’s bass
tiny smashed down bits of Christmas trees
and rosemary needles
from fancy dinners
crystal shards
of broken windshields
worn down,
winking in the starlight
We are but dust
But dust is every thing
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
Formed out of everything
To everything we return
To nourish the land of our ancestors
To sustain the hand of our children
As a nation is built upon
the detritus
of its history
So too are we created and recreated anew
Out of
(dust)
Liz Huff May 25, 2013
Back To Zero
Once upon a time
I thought I knew
it all.
Men - I had your number
in slumber or in waking
I had you quaking in my boots
Job, I had you in my hand,
the broadband of employment at my enjoyment
next move unplanned.
Didn't matter, I could disband and
move into my dreamland
any time I wanted.
Once upon a time
I learned I couldn't do
it all.
(Now I ) Gotta reboot, reshoot
the vision of my life
I ain't nobodies's wife and
that's okay
but someday
I want
to want a man
who wants to stay.
Career in arrears
I've sheered off a few years
I coulda used to make my mark
it's stark, the difference between
what I thought would be
and coulda been
and how am I here again?
Once upon a time
I thought - you only get one chance
at the brass ring or the romance
But now I find
with a little tarnish on my game
I can tame
the crazy, the lazy, the whoops-a-daisy
no shame in the future being hazy
I do what I can do
today
because
I've been broken
and pulled apart.
Now I got a
fresh start.
Amateur hour
ain't nothin but a
good heart learning
the hard way
about the right way
that's the art that
sets us apart
and pulls us together
the tether
between the me and
the you.
So now I set it back to zero
I'm nobody's hero
but I can begin
to learn now
I got the burn now
can discern what I want and can do now
I'm the intern on the upturn now
ready for what life's been waitin to show me.
Don't you shoofly me
I can be
just about anything.
Just watch me.
(Now you've seen the twist
the turnin'
the lazy Susan
I'm usin
to rewrite hist'ry
this silly myst'ry
of living -
This acrobatic syllabic musing
I hope
is not bruising
or contusing
if we shadows are not amusing
remember we are just cruising through,
with friendship infusing
this thing
called life)
Liz Huff copyright 2013 (written March 22, 2013)
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