Dave's Not Here Man

Hello Blog Fans!
Recently it became possible to have a blog on my website provider so I have moved Veni, Vidi, Scripsi over to my site so everything is now all in one convenient place! If you are looking to continue reading my post, please look no further than www.janeljtutak.com
Thanks for reading!

Day 23 POEM: Falling

Falling
Janel J. Tutak, March 21, 2005

once again
i've spotted a pretty eyed boy
and i can't resist his warm embrace
he speaks to me, soft words of poetry
flowing off his singing voice
and i'm falling

something in my heart dances to the sound
and i'm so sure it's love
he tells me what i want to hear
as he whispers softly as he kisses my neck
and i'm falling

so i give him what he wants
because i love him today
and he says he loves me too
but he won't hold me close as i cry
and i'm falling

something in my heart weeps to the sound
and i'm alone again
he's pulled away
left me, and i'm so hurt
and i'm falling

once again
he's singing the words of sweet poetic lines
and holding close in a warm embrace
all those thing that he gave to me
he's giving to someone else
and she's falling

--

They say that the English language is one of the hardest languages to learn. One of the reasons being that many words have different means though spelt the same. Falling for instance. In this poem it means falling in love as well as falling down. Ok, I know it's not the same thing as read and read. But you get my point. It's actually one of the reasons I like this poem, because of the different meanings.

Day 22 POEM: Sometimes I Forget

Sometimes I Forget
Janel J. Tutak, January 27, 2005

If just for a moment
I could share with you how I feel
Wrap my arms around you
And lose myself in your scent

Yesterday I laughed with you
Sharing a funny moment,
We shared more than that

Today smiles seem so perfect
And nothing can going wrong
Or can it?

Did I forget
That perhaps
You don’t feel the same
Perhaps it’s just a dream
A crazy dream of mine

Up and down I seem to go
You take me higher
And then my mind jumps in
And I sink down

Because maybe I forgot
That perhaps
You don’t feel the same
Perhaps it’s just a dream
A crazy dream of mine

If for just a moment
You could share with me how you feel
Wrap your arms around me
I’ll get lost in your scent

Yesterday you were
On the same page as me
Reading along beside one another

Today we closed the book
And now I’m asking
What was the ending?

Because maybe I forgot

--

As you can see, if you've been following along, teenage heartbreak was a big theme in my poetry. I came across this one and I just liked it. I'd like to say the later time post meant I slept in this morning, sadly that is not the case. I was just busy with the kids. Now they are watching the Land Before Time so I had a chance to do some writing. Speaking of which, I just wanted to give everyone a head's up. I belong to a mom group online and a few of us have been talking about writing. I am starting a writer's circle type of thing with them but I will also be posting it on here for anyone else interested in some fun creative activities. So many times now I have stories on the go and get stuck so I don't write because I can't get past it. But then because, that's what I am currently working on, I don't write. And it's harder to get back into it when you aren't doing it regularly. These exercises are going to help that. It's just a prompt to keep writing regularly on something other than what your current project is. But that's the best part about writing, you never know where something is going to take you. A silly exercise could turn into a bestseller. Starting Monday, I will be posting a weekly writing exersise. If you are interested, do the exercise, if you want to share what you write, please do.

Day 21 POEM: Tears

Tears
Janel J. Tutak, before 2012 

when sorrow hits the faint at heart
we paint the world with tears.
but to shed a tear is never just,
to the one you're crying for.
not enough.. or way too much..
we can't find a middle

--

Another unknown dated poem saved on my computer on April 17, 2012. 
As an emotional person, I am in the frequent flyers club with tears. I cry when I'm hurt. I cry when I'm angry. I cry when I'm sad. When I'm happy. When I'm scared. When I'm frustrated. I cry when I'm anxious. Lately I feel like I cry all the time. I don't, but it happens. 
And so, I share this poem with you. I know sometimes people say all you need is a good cry, and I suppose that's true. But sometimes crying doesn't do anything but give you a big ol' headache. I mean, I'm not going to stop crying when I feel like it. I'm a big advocate of not keeping your feelings locked up. Sometimes I just wish there was an easy fix for things. Or an easy answer.  
 

Day 20 POEM: Sailing on Open Love

Sailing on Open Love
Janel J. Tutak, before 2012

he blows warm breath in my sails
soft against them, and we glide across clear water.
i am here by invitation,
sent to me on the cry of a seagull.
when he laughs, the speed picks up
the sun is brighter
and my smile is too.
i am having fun
here on the open sea
while he blows breath into my sails
and a glide in a boat of love.

--

The date of this one is unknown. The document on my computer was dated April 17, 2012. However, there are a few poems with that date, which leads me to believe they were copied from a notebook into my computer. If I had to guess, I'd say it was written for my husband because he loves being on the water, whether or not it was written before he was my husband is a mystery. Yesterday was the 5 year anniversary of the date he proposed to me so when I came across this one in my rereading of my poetry, it seemed like a nice one to share with you today.

Day 19 POEM: Battles Within

Battles Within
Janel J. Tutak, January 26, 2005

i see the way you are looking at me
like you don't like what it is you see
noses turned up, you walk on by
turning away so you miss me cry

(but you forget one thing)

this is me, the way i am
i cannot change
so i don't give a damn
if you think i'm strange

i hear the way you whisper about me
the things you don't like, how you disagree
dirty looks as you walk on by
to say i don't notice is a lie

(but i tell myself one thing)

this is me, the way i was born
perhaps you are unaware
that though you look in scorn
i don't have to care

i taste the bitterness you spit at me
but there is one thing i'll guarantee
even though you will walk on by
i don't even care why

(because there's that one thing)

this is me, the way i'm gonna be
and it's about time you knew
that i'm going to always be me
if you don't like it then fuck you

--

Hey! There's that F-Bomb again. Apologies folks. I feel like though the poem sends a strong message, it isn't entirely necessary this time. I mean the sentiments are correct, if someone doesn't like you, doesn't approve of you, treats you poorly, tries to walk all over you.... well fuck 'em. I just felt like a different ending would be more appropriate, different phrasing, then my 18 year old self might have chosen. Although, depending on the day, I could totally agree with the usage of the F-Bomb.
It is unfortunate that there are people in the world intent on ripping people apart. These people might be strangers, friends or even worse, family. They are skilled enough at first to make you second guess yourself, to try to create a doubt that you are doing the right thing, you are worth it etc. Eventually you will discover that their personality is just a black hole of self importance and unhappiness. Don't get sucked in. Being comfortable with yourself is a very valuable tool. Be confident that your hobbies, your quirks, your parenting, your employment, your life - they are what makes you you. Be ok with you. Love yourself. Don't put up with the shit people will put out there. 

Day 18 POEM: Bliss

Bliss
Janel J. Tutak, July 20, 2013

Oh how I must paint

the image of perfection before me

I watch the sweet slumber,

the whisper of her breathing,

the scent of soft skin and dreams

She stirs ever so slightly 

and I hold my breath 

so as not to disturb her

Time stands still

Oh how I could watch

the tiny angel that is

my daughter

forever. 

--

Keeping with my theme yesterday of a poem written for my children, here is another one. This is a repost, I posted this the day I wrote it but I really liked it so you get it again, or maybe you didn't read it the first time around.  Bella would have been just under a year then. The same poem could be written with "he" and "him" with "son" at the end, he just wasn't born yet. 

I also wanted to add a full disclosure that yesterday's post about how I spent my Mother's Day and what not is not meant to be judgmental. If you didn't have to cook dinner, if you didn't have your kids with you because you took the day off from entertaining or doing things for other people, if you spent the whole day seeing mothers and mother in laws, whatever you did, I hope you enjoyed it. The Mommy Wars has gotten crazy and people are meant to feel guilty for their choice of feeding, sleeping, diapering, the list goes on. Is your child safe? Fed? Clothed? That is all that matters. As one of my close friends says, "You Do You". I just wanted to clarify that. There is no wrong way to eat a Reeses, or spend a Mother's Day. 

 

Day 17 POEM: My Breath

My Breath
Janel J. Tutak, May 3, 2015

They whisper beauty with each breath
Inhale.
Exhale.
I am trapped in the blissful moment
How long have I been standing?
Forever is too short
Inhale.
Exhale.
Painting the memories that bind my heart
and make me whole
I never want to move
Time passes all too quick
and yet freezes while
Inhale.
Exhale.
I watch my children sleep

--

It seemed only too fitting after Mother's Day to post a poem I wrote about my children. It still is an odd concept to me to celebrate Mother's Day for myself. But yesterday, my husband was working all day and we were not seeing our families, so it really was just me and my kids and it left me with no choice to focus on me as a mother and what that means. 
Not gonna lie, at first I was grumpy with the thought of having to make dinner like I do every single day. I looked into ordering Swiss Chalet, a tradition my family had done for year, but alas, I live too far from the nearest restaurant for them to send me food. Fair enough. We will get to dinner later.
My plans were to do some things with the kids we both could enjoy. We had picked out and planted some flowers together the day before, but I still needed hanging baskets to go over my garage. The plan was to walk to the Home Hardware and grab some. The plan... sadly we didn't make it before naptime and then it rained. Oh well, at least we did the others the day before.
The other plan was to do our Mother's Day craft, a tradition that I started the first Mother's Day after Bella was born. Salt dough with my hand print, then theirs in mine, with the year and their name at the top. A sweet keepsake for me and something I could cherish forever. After they had baked and cooled, I painted them and let them dry. Afterwards I carried them upstairs to compare them with the previous years, like I do every year, marveling over the change in their hand growth... Only to find with horror and heartbreak that each of their first Mother's Day crafts (2013 for Bella, 2014 for Henry) were broken. Bella's was mostly around the outside so while upsetting, I could still see her hand. But Henry's hand was in pieces of blue paint and dough. To say I was I was devastated is an understatement. I cried, I wept, I sobbed. I tried to piece them together as best I could and took picture of these precious mementos. And then I cried, I wept, I sobbed again. So much so, I gave myself a headache. I believe the term is 'Ugly Cry'. 
I would like to address the fact that in the grand scheme, I am aware that it is not the be all end all, but after discussing it with my Mom Group, I felt better knowing they too would be upset and I was not overreacting, as I had once thought. I was embarrassed that this thing, this keepsake had grieved me so much. But I am not anymore. I am beyond upset (I am going to try to glue it together today, then bubble wrap them all and lock them in a fireproof safe). But I am not embarrassed for being attached to something that reminds me how precious life is and how quickly it moves. 
My children are 2 and 3 & 3/4. Our days wiz past and I am doing my best to do everything all the time. Hell, I did 4 loads of laundry and watered the new sod we put in, on top of all the regular motherly duties yesterday. Meals were made, diapers changed, butts wiped, noses blown, songs sang, books read, games played.... and it is hard sometimes to take a step back and look around. But this poem I wrote last year reminds us what a privilege it is to enjoy them sleeping, to enjoy the moments we have with them. The cracked keepsakes reminded me how fragile life is, and how quickly it can be gone.
So on Mother's Day for dinner I made spaghetti, not because it was my choice or even a particular favourite of mine, but because it is their favourite. I knew it would make them happy, and as their mum, that is all I really want in life. To watch their sweet, messy faces smiling at me. I am truly blessed to be their mum and that is what Mother's Day means to me. 
 

Day 16 POEM: My First and Only

My First and Only
Janel J. Tutak, May 10 2015

My first hug, my first kiss

The first person I would miss

My first friend, my first love

The first person I'd dream of

The first I heard, the first I'd see

The first person I'd want to be

My first hero, my first knight

The first person I knew was right

My first helper, my first listening ear

The first person I hold dear

My first teacher, my first coach

The first person I could approach

My first everything, my first all

The first person I think to call

These things you were the first one

But you'll always be my only mum

--

In honour of Mother's Day today, it only seemed fitting to share a poem written for my mum last Mother's Day as a gift. I can't actually read this one with out getting teary eyed, and it isn't just because of my overwhelming love and appreciation for my mum, but also being a mum and being on the other side of that. The bond between a mother and child is a most precious and special thing. I am so blessed to have an amazing mother as well as be a mother to my amazing children. Happy Mother's Day to all mothers out there. We love you and appreciate you!

Day 15 POEM: I Have To Ask

I Have To Ask
Janel J. Tutak, circa Summer 2002

How long does it take for a word to lose it’s meaning?
Does ‘sorry’ take back the words you were screaming?

Does it take back all those times I have cried?
Or the feeling of wanting to run and hide?

How long before you actually mean what you say?
How long before you realize it won’t make it okay?

Does it take back the pain, that’s black and blue?
Or if you say it enough, will it someday be true?

How long before I forget the hurtful things you said?
How long before the outcome, is me dead?

How long will it be before you start to see?
I have to ask do your actions reflect your love for me?

--

Haha. I stand corrected. When I posted on Day 1 Another Fight, and I said that was the one my father carried in his wallet. I was mistaken. It wasn't that one, it was this one. I was going over my old journal site again and came across an entry discussing it. I knew there was one poem he had carried around. I guess it was this one instead. Oops! Can I blame it on mum brain? Or getting older? This is journal entry from May 6th 2006 (so 10 years ago?! Crazy)

I think I wrote it, and showed it to my mom, (the person who used to read everything I wrote back then), and she showed it to him... as a way of saying look what you've caused your daughter to write... hoping it would be a bit of a wake up call.It was written when he was still living in the house.
I really have no recollection of writing it, though when I read it I vaguely see myself in my room, crying.
Anyways he took the only copy of the poem I had, so I really didn't know it existed until last year he showed it to me. He carries it around in his wallet, and I copied it down. We figure it was written around summer of 2002.

 Anyways, hopefully you can all forgive my misremembering.

Day 14 POEM: Over Midnight Tea

Over Midnight Tea
Janel J. Tutak, circa 2000

It's almost midnight
The moon is out
I'm all alone
Just the moon and I
My house is quiet
There is not a sound
But the clock striking midnight
Please come over and sit
Sit with me and chat
We'll have tea and cakes
Talk about our lives
Yours and mine
But I'm all alone
Just the moon and I
So I'll talk to my self
Discuss my life
Over midnight tea

--

I remember writing this one one night whilst drinking tea in my bedroom. I was in grade seven or eight and at that time I was considering making a book of my poetry. I remember after writing this one, thinking it would be a good title for a book. "Over Midnight Tea & Other Poems". I could picture the cover art, I still can. Funny the things that stick out in your mind.

Day 13 POEM: Your Smile

Your Smile
Janel J. Tutak, November 17, 2004

I’d wait forever just to see you smile
Because your smile lights up my day
Even if it is a rainy one
Your smile is the sun
That dries up all the rain
And it makes me happy
Don’t frown
And don’t be sad
Without your smile
Where would I be?
I’d be
Without my sun.

--
Today is my son's 2nd birthday. I can't tell you the mixed emotions wrapped up in this movement, like his hand used to do with my finger. Obviously this poem was written before I had kids. But it doesn't have to be about the love of a partner. My children are my sun. Without them, I don't know what I would do. And it is true, their smile is a sure way to brighten up my day. A perfect moment, feeling in my life. Even a naughty smile of "haha mum look what I am doing!" makes me smile, even when I should be using my poker face. And now as I go hide in the corner blubbering and sneaking glimpses of my children napping, playing, eating, living... please do the same with yours. Life is precious, they are precious. They are our sunshine. Happy Birthday Henry.

Day 12 POEM: Forever

Forever
Janel J. Tutak, October 27th 2004

i thought you said forever,
you'd love me for forever,
but what happened to forever?
it's shorter than i thought

cuz when you said forever,
i thought you meant forever,
this is not forever,
it ended sooner then it ought

i was looking forward to forever,
i lifetime of forever,
but you cut off my forever,
i wish you had not

--

I have a feeling that I might have been going through a breakup of some sort during this time. That might have something to do with the type of poems that were written at this time. I chose this one because I like poems that are simple and yet powerful. Powerful in the way that the message and emotion is clear. Don't get me wrong, sometimes I like the cleverness of more complex poems that allow is different interpretations of their meaning. But today I was looking for something simpler. It's a busy day and I need all my wits with me. Just tell me how you feel! And I do. Take care!
P.S. May the 4th Be With You!

Day 11 POEM: The Visitor In The Night

The Visitor In The Night
Janel J. Tutak, circa 2000 

I woke with a start in the middle of the night
I had a nightmare that gave me a fright
In my memory still fresh it was there
the dream, its pictures, that gave me a scare
I sat in the darkness, all alone with fear
I shivered and silently my eye dropped a tear
I cried in my room still sitting in my bed
not daring to move the dream still in my head
Then I heard a sound and froze stiff as a board
A voice started to speak, I was calmed by the Lord

--

My mum asked me the other day if I had any happy poems. Haha oh mum. I mean ya, there were a few in there but the majority of my poems were not. Anyways, she particularly requested this one. So here it is. This was written at a time when I was very active in my church and youth group. I do remember waking up and writing this one, the nightmare was real. Not much else to write about it. I feel like it is self explanatory. So there you have it mum, a happy poem.  

Day 10 POEM: When The Beeping Stopped

When The Beeping Stopped
Janel J. Tutak, June 26, 2007

She remembers the rain;
    not the warm summer rain they’d been having all week
this rain was cold.
    It came down and stung with cold,
made her clothes stick to her skin.

She remembers the walk;
    there was no car for her drive
because he had it.
    It rained the whole way,
people drove past her and thought something was wrong with her,
    there was.

She remembers the phone call;
    it rang five times before she got it
she almost missed it.
    She didn’t recognize the voice on the other end
but it was for her.

She remembers the words;
    work            accident
          crash                 hurt
       injuries                      pain
                hospital.

She remembers the room;
    cords and tubes,
bandages and bruises
    a machine beeping...
            beeping....

She remembers the kiss;
    long and soft
she had butterflies in her stomach
    just like she always did.

She remembers the tears;
    cold and steady
her vision was blurred
    and she held his hand.

She remembers the love;
    for it’s all she has left
when the beeping stopped
    a part of her died too.

--

This poem was a bad dream I had. Dreams can turn into some of the best ideas for our work. I always keep a notebook beside my bed for this reason. One of my greatest fears is losing the people I love, I mean, most people have this fear right? And although I am fortunate enough that this isn't something I have experienced, when I woke up from that dream everything was so real. I held those emotions in the fog and wrote it down. I hope all of you and your are safe this day and every day.

Post 9 POEM: Screwed Twice

Screwed Twice
Janel J. Tutak, circa March 22, 2005

I was vulnerable, and you were strong
You saw the ease, and took me on
Moved right in, and touched my soul
I was shy, you took control
Placed your lips on top of mine
It felt so sweet, I couldn’t decline
I felt your hands on my face
Then felt them move to a different place
Slide up my shirt, and undid my bra
You seemed pleased with what you saw
Your mouth found me, it was wet
I pulled away, afraid of regret
But you said your feelings were real
I must admit, it seemed surreal
You continued, once I gave in
Took off my pants, and touched within
You pushed me back, and got on top
It felt so good, didn’t want you to stop
Afterwards you kissed me goodbye
A smile on my face, I felt high
But you figured once was suffice
You went back to her and fucked me twice 

--

Ooops! Sorry about the language. But I came across this poem on my old site. Assumabley it was written in 2005. Ahh 19 year old Janel. Yup. There was bound to be an F-bomb at some point! Not entirely sure which loser inspired this poem but I really enjoyed the poem. Bam! Emotion. In your face. Excellent. Love it. Life is like that sometimes. It happens. World moves on. Glad I captured this before moving on myself.