What I Learn From Oprah

I know this may sound a little lame, and even a little strange, but I have been indulging in "Oprah therapy" for the past few months. I cannot claim that any great and earthshaking changes have taken place, I have not suddenly embarked upon a successful bout of weight loss, my finances still are a mess, and I still eat things I shouldn't. At least my cats are not obsessed with their looks and my boyfriend is not having affairs all over the place (at least he better not be doing that!), nor am I deliberately injuring myself with self-inflicted cuts and burns as I try to get through school so I can teach at the college level. With everything that has been going on in my family lately I have really felt the need of having someone to listen to me as I try to work my way through everything. Oprah has helped and, if I keep at it, maybe my life will prove to be exactly what she wants for one of her future shows! What makes this funny is that I am not the sort of person who would have, unchallenged, ever even considered baring my soul online or on television because it "just isn't done." Desperation makes strange, and not so strange, bedfellows at times, such as me and Oprah, the TV and the internet. But here we all are and I feel that I am the one getting the better end of things. I get to "talk" to a renowned celebrity (or at least one of her producers) and unburden my soul, I get to daydream about maybe, somehow, getting my 15 minutes of fame some day, and I also get to let everyone interested in taking a look at my journal know how things are going in my life and how I am feeling, what I am dealing with, what new tragedy has us in its grasp, and so on while I can just take my time in giving the same back to others - at least for awhile. There is also the hope that someone will be helped by, or at least just enjoy, some of what I have written and get back to me with a little news about their life and experiences. Because, even though often snowed under in a quagmire of emotions and paralyzed by the burdens of my many burdened moments, I really do hope that all of this will at least prove a comfort or a help to some one out there who, like me, is doing Oprah therapy and beginning to feel at least a little better about everything in their life.

Some poems:

(this one is for Oprah)
To Mattie

Frail blonde boy
In chair too rigid and correct
Weak beyond comprehension
Tube trailing from his neck
His smile
First thing
The eye rests upon
This is his vehicle
Carrying him home
He was a small blonde boy
In glasses with gold trim
A smile of pure peace
Glowing through the rims
Smile of perfect peace
And a spirit in the trim

(these are the Walmart poems)
To Janice, whose Daddy is in Jail

Too young to see in grownup terms,
But old enough to know how rough the world
can be.
She saw her father stand and fight,
Defending a woman abused by her mate.
Now her Daddy, the defender,
Is uncertain of his fate,
And is forced to see the painful truth
Upon his daughter's worried face.
Two sad tears flow slowly down from
Beautiful eyes holding questions
Suspended in her heart's eternity.
Even many grownups cannot tell
How to answer the questions
Her heart is screaming into her head.
In pain, she longs for her Daddy's hug.
Learning too early
That even heroes make mistakes
Now and then.

(untitled)

She was suddenly there
Chewing her gum too fast
In a mouth used to bitter flavors
One cheek
Stained black by a bruise
Cried out like a festering soul
She stopped short
Her eyes looked desperate
Needing a reason to smile
To find something to laugh at
But they remained hollow and void
From forgetfulness and pain
Eyes like the arid blue of a desert sky
Sear, dry, nearly dead
And all the time
Her mouth moved
Chewing endlessly on her life