chapter's end

i'm done licking my wounds. my time line is rushing by and i definitely feel, i should waste no more of my alloted span in self pity than is absolutely necessary. were i five years younger, this wolf would remain in the lair, lying low, dreaming of if only's and what if's, i would write dramatic heart rendering poetry about lost love and broken hearts. this wolf would howl of misery until the universe sent someone new to shut me up.

herself was a real woman, intelligent and talented, wild and wonderful. she brought love and joy and a new richness to my life. i thank her and i honour her. I wish her a future full of love and magic.

so, no disrespect intentioned to herself, my muse, for my perhaps unseemly rush to throw myself back into life. my eagerness to begin again...
to renew my search for my holy grail.
the she, the her, the one...
my dream sharer, my spell weaver, companion of my heart.
the woman who will share my desire for togetherness and my passion for adventure.
the woman who will understand the wolf and the nomad within and will not fear them.

the end of a chapter is just that. there is always another chapter or even a new book.

secret blog, green frog

hands up if you have a secret blog!

i have lately come to realize the disadvantages of a public blog... emblazoned with my real name and real photo.

i mean damn it! friggin' people i know and love read my blogs. what if i have a desperate need to have a bit of a bitch about ...well, summat, what then? yup... summat as what might concern someone i know and love.

then there is humour...friends and loved ones are just fantastic subjects. ok, so i change names and places and they still say...hey, how dare you write about our private life. hey man, i live in the middle of nowhere...how often do sheep say something funny.

maybe i lack moral fibre, maybe .....

now our esteemed cap'n, the infamous lesbian pirate...not one iota of info about herself is to be found. believe me , i know, i've tried!
what can i say, i was born curious and it only grows worse with age...
apologies cap'n...grovel, grovel...

so i'm thinking...secret blog...topping good idea....


change of subject

my mate lori hahn (aka middle aged lesbian) suggested i try kissing frogs. that girl...she knows what she's about, the very month it stops raining i am out and about, searching for a wee scots frog to kiss. in the meantime (the weather is really sheit), i have been cruising the cute frog pages and i came across this cutie...hope she's a girl who likes girls...

the place called love

leaving a relationship is....

not easy, good days and bad days, days when i couldn't care less and days when i ache with the pain of loss.

that's the thing about love...
falling into it is simple, delightful, sheer pleasure.

falling out of it is another matter entirely.

i believe we have done the right thing, my ex and i. i feel we were moving in ever decreasing circles, neither of us able to provide that which our beloved really needed.

still hurts though, still miss my girl, my friend, my love, my confidant. i wonder sometimes...will i ever have the courage to risk my heart again. i hope so, at the moment both my heart and mind are in the workshop for repair and realignment.

if love is the answer... what is the question?

i must admit that, at this time, i am feeling somewhere between maudlin and hopeful... not an easy place to reside.

i would like to share my poem "the place" with you, it was written from a place of realization, a place where i learned that nothing in life is guaranteed. do i regret unlocking my heart and visiting 'the place called love'? no, there can be no regrets when it comes to love. love is our reason for being, our lesson to learn and our gift to give.

tomorrow, or tomorrow, or tomorrow... i will find the courage to love again.

the place


on reflection
perhaps i was afraid to revisit the place
the place called love
i had lived there before
in total contentment
luxuriating in the safety
of deep commitment
i shared the place
the place called love
with a man, a noble soul
he of the twinkling eyes
the awesome intelligence
he of the gentle spirit
the time will always come i suppose
when one is left
still resident in the place
the place of love
alone, in an agony of disbelief

no more, no more i said,
to live in this place
this place called love
is far too painful
when we love with such devotion
we invite the pain
the pain of separation
i lack the strength, the will
to survive again the loss of love
i will paddle in the shallows
of friendship and companionship
i will ride the waves of passion and excitement
i will never revisit the place
the place called love
i will sail through life
avoiding the depths of emotion
never completely satisfied
yet always invulnerable

she was small
she laughed when i called her small
she was though, small
deliciously padded in all the right places
but still small
perhaps it was more the way she made me feel
with her i was tall, tall and strong
intelligent and talented
i was tempted to revisit the place
the place called love
to sacrifice my hearts devotion once more
to accept the danger
the exquisite risk of unfettered commitment
loss is a lesson not easily forgotten
with relentless precision
it teaches fear, buries it deep
beyond memories reach
where the invisible cape of self preservation
protects us from the place
the place called love

i often wondered at the attraction of her
so powerful and yet so hard to understand
we came from different worlds
separated by custom and culture
my taste in women tilted always to the tall
the leggy blond, refined and understated
yet now i trembled to my very soul
with need and passion
unable to deny myself the pleasure
of her voice, her outspoken defiance
our differences forgotten in the sheer joy
of our amazing compatibility
the miles, the physical distance between us
the impossibility of togetherness
would keep me safe
safe from the future pain
of revisiting the place
the place called love

life however has different plans
we live in chaos, we lack control
it is not our place to decide
the universe chooses with whom we share
the place called love
and so finally i remembered the fear
i realized my pain and my evasion
my mind flooded with the knowledge
of her true place in my life
no more denial, i accept the danger
the fear of future loss
i accept the joy
the total contentment of deep commitment
i will hold her close, request her trust
her love, her all
i will take her hand and ask for her company
her lifelong presence
at my side and in my arms
discovering the place
the place called love

All materials Copyright © 2004-2007 by Eryll Oellermann

the immigrant...continued

winter


i was born in africa
beneath her big blue sky
three days without our sunshine
we wanted to know why
have you ever been to scotland
in winter time let's say
when wind and rain surround the hills
and every day is grey
the cattle in the fields
half hidden by the fog
ground which was once solid
now oozing like a bog
the sheep once brown and dirty
now clean and white again
the super cleansing action
of harsh wind driven rain
the sea is dark and ominous
it rolls it's way to shore
the summer birds which once sun bathed
are sun bathing no more
they huddle in collections
their faces to the breeze
wet and quite bedraggled
enduring winter's freeze
the howling gales arrive
they whistle and they wail
try hard to lift the slate roof
we're lucky if they fail
the windows often rattle
the force of driven rain
comes all the way from ireland
to beat upon our pane
these house walls have been standing
two hundred years or more
no matter what the weather does
it stops right at the door
the central heating kicks in
to keep the stone walls warm
we light the logs and dreaming gaze
at flames e'r changing form
hot chocolate or a wee dram
to soothe and fortify
some people don't like winter
i often wonder why

All materials Copyright © 2004-2007 by Eryll Oellermann

string ties and horses

once upon a time, a long, long time ago ... i used to believe i was strange. why?... you ask...or not, as you see fit. well, i was different, i was not the same, i marched to a different drum ... or so i believed anyway. let's face it, we probably all have a need to feel unique, unusual... and from my own arrogant view point (i have no shame!)...superior.

i enjoy being me, i always have, i have no need to fit into a neatly prescribed slot. i was delighted to find out i was a dyke, albeit a sleeper, totally unaware for the first 56 years of my life.i mean...heck...it explained so much, the desire to wear cowboy/girl hats, the intense disdain for most female attire, the reason i was so happy when string ties and waistcoats came into fashion along with the bell bottoms.i totally loved my school uniform as i got to wear a tie! i still wear a tie at times, it is a fashion statement and has nothing whatsoever to do with my butchy leanings...no really...
i have one dark, deep red tie with small cream elephants...tres elegante. then there is my black and silver tie, when worn with a black suit and a crisp white shirt..ah man...even the straight girls want me!whilst on holiday in florida with herself, her daughter (a charming and thoughtful lass...scarily intelligent) took us to the tutankhamen exhibition at...i think it was west palms...is there such a place...
anyway , it was great, we had fabulous pizza and the exhibition was marvelous ...which reminds me ...i really want to take a trip to london and check out those terracotta warriors. where was i ...ties, oh yeah, so herself bought me a wonderful blue silk tie with gold camels while we were at the exhibition.this small act was a giant concession to my strange love affair with ties, herself considers my desire to strut around in a tie, well...weird, not to mention...embarrassing.

then there was the thing with horses...i was born loving horses and i no way came from a horsey family. i love their smell, their feel, their warm horse breath, their foot stamping, high stepping, dancing and prancing.i rode even though i had no saddle and no idea of how to inform the poor beast of my intentions. i spent a lot of time...on the ground, every now and again unconscious, did i mind...hell no, just get up and try again.there really is no understanding love.
i think i must have been 55 when i visited a medium, i was desperate for a message from my mann. he had no message from beyond, but he told me i walked with a small herd of horses behind me, made perfect sense to me and now when i need them, well...i am able to see them.so perhaps, just perhaps mind...i may actually be a little different!

damn, this is growing into a blog of epic proportions and i still wanted to tell you about a previous life and why i love blogging. never mind...maybe another time.

"a friend in need"

i met jersey girl on an internet dating site while herself and i were on one of our breaks.
we struck up an internet friendship and continued to keep in touch on odd occasions.
about six months ago, herself had decided i was not worth the emotional stress i caused and had assured me she would never speak to me again. she ignored all my pleas for weeks, i was convinced we were done!
jersey girl and i started to internet flirt, which progressed to phone flirt and eventually...jersey girl came up to scotland for the weekend. now, jg and myself were highly compatible, she is a lovely woman, we had a wonderful time together, we enjoy the same music, laugh at the same jokes...as comfortable as a pair of old slippers.i would hesitate to deny... a mutual spark of attraction, but...
i was still hopelessly in love with my muse and jersey girl was still swinging on the rebound pendulum. to cut a long story short, herself decided to re enter my life about that time and i decided that perhaps i should take a step back from my friendship with jersey girl. until ....

jersey girl phoned me, one evening, a couple of days ago. she was very unhappy, it appears she had fallen in love shortly after the last time we were in contact.she had declined to paddle in the shallows and joyfully leaped into the deep waters of real love. quite a few months of blissful amore, jg feeling happy and content, dreaming of happily ever after, when...
the dream shattered.
jg needed someone to talk to, someone to listen, someone to care that she was hurting. she needed to rage and vent and i was the chosen receptacle for her outpouring. we live quite a distance apart and i have never met any of the crowd she socializes with... i am an outsider, unbiased and available.

interesting...the way life works. here i am in mourning for my recently ended relationship and what does the universe send me? why..someone with a similar problem. i hope and pray that somehow jersey girl and her love will put things back together, decide to try again and find success. she has not had an altogether easy life and she deserves a little happiness. in the mean time, i am an ear at the end of a phone line, i listen with sympathy and advise when asked.

jersey girl keeps my phone ringing and my brain occupied, she is indeed 'a friend in need'.

the immigrant...continued

the season to be leavin'


now winter was a'coming
the COLD was drawing near
the winds were up to gale force
the kids began to fear
they had a family meeting
and put it to me straight
we think that you should move inside
we don't think you should wait
i like my independence
i need to do my thing
and so i thought to stay awhile
enjoy the chill wind's sting
my son was flabbergasted
"now, ma" he had to say
"if we leave that small van out there
it's bound to fly away"
ahhh, so i let him tow my van
inside the big courtyard
he tucked it in a corner
the wind blew much less hard
i commandeered a heater
to help fight off the cold
but man, that van was chilly
i now began to fold
i moved into the farmhouse
the room beneath the eaves
where it was warm and cozy
now everyone was pleased

All materials Copyright © 2004-2007 by Eryll Oellermann

free fall

i feel awful, drained, like i have been put through a ringer. i do love you but it is always going to be like this...you on one side of the ocean and me on the other. unable to take care of one another, not there to support when support is needed. i believe that it is our relationship which is making you ill. i have to admit i feel as if my love for you is dying, killed by the separation, the unhappiness, the fact that we are unable to live together as two women in love should do. the excitement, the grand passion is gone, i love you with my whole heart but i think my sense of self preservation has kicked in. my love grows tame and gentle.
we do everything separately, you go to parties without me and have fun. i feel guilty about even wanting to have fun....

Saturday, herself had a party to attend, a friend turning sixty. not a big deal, or maybe i should say that it should not be a big deal. did make me think though....
of all the family celebrations i still attend alone, of how good it would be to share my everyday life. the sheer cat like pleasure of waking next to the one you love. the small sharings...a passage in a book you are reading, chuckling together over some small idiotic happening. the glorious, simple pleasure of sharing an everyday life with the one you love. so yes...i was feeling somewhat sullen. the single life is not really my cup of tea. come sunday morning and i felt the need to express my emotions in words and i wrote...

free fall


i feel i am in free fall
my life, swift passing by
no goal in sight, no master plan
forgotten how to fly

there was a time, not long ago
when i was in command
i contemplated, organized
life went as i had planned

somewhere, somehow, some point in time
my life slipped off the leash
where once my choice was steak and veg
i now was handed quiche

so chaos reigns, no sweet design
to concentrate my mind
no parachute to break my fall
this girl is flying blind

i know that soon i will recoup
once more i'll beat the odds
i'll claim my life and make it mine
and damn the chaos gods

i'll take a breath and raise my eyes
i'll see the stars and moon
with arms of steel i'll seize my life
oh goddess make it soon

All materials Copyright © 2004-2007 by Eryll Oellermann


sunday evening (my time), herself called, she was very upset as she had planned to visit me early december and was having a problem finding someone to take care of her cats. she also felt the need to inform me that she has been deathly ill for quite a while... another reason she might not be able to fly over. herself had not previously told me she was ill as she did not want me to worry! i was gobsmacked...we have been together for three years and she feels no need to tell me she is ill until she is about to cancel our time together. i held my tongue.

i wish i could claim to be a self sacrificing, saintly sort of soul. i can't, i ain't ....i will turn myself inside out for the one i love BUT i expect them to do the same. i was not happy. when we first fell in love i would never have believed that three years down the line, our times together would still be affected by the availability of cat sitters. enough already, time to fish or cut bait!

i called back. one last time...i asked her to marry me. i asked her to move in with me, i needed more than a long distance relationship.time to choose...

"this is not the right time, eryll. i am emotionally distraught and you are starting again!"

there is never a right time....

"this is not love eryll! i am in pain and you insist on kicking me when i am down, at my lowest ebb. this is not love eryll! i have always been honest with you, i have told you again and again that i was unable to leave..."

there is never a right time....

i am only human, we agreed to part.

the immigrant...continued

english is a language

now English is a language
which many of us speak
but let me say just one thing
the English are unique
they have these English accents
quite different from my own
it took six months to understand
a fact i had not known
and then, when i could almost know
most every word they said
i up and moved to Scotland
where they speak Scots instead
well actually, it's English
but one would hardly guess
the accent is so Scottish
i understood it less
it purrs and growls and rolls the r's
it lilts and dips and sways
plus Scot's have heaps of their own words
och, language is a maze

All materials Copyright © 2004-2007 by Eryll Oellermann

i can do photos

ailsa craig

friendly debate


wonder where the prevailing wind blows from...

from a to z, the beginning

sometimes i wonder...exactly how i arrived at where i am today.
i mean...i was straight, most definitely...well i would have thought so...
a tomboy - yes, all my life. i preferred cars and toy guns to dolls and tea parties. my brother was three years younger than me, he mostly did as i suggested in the early days ... before his masculinity asserted itself.
when we played, i would be john and he would be mary.
fortunately this gender bending caused him no deep psychological scars,
when i was old enough to care... i would choose shorts or jeans over a dress... everytime. by the time i was eleven i had rolled the sides of my old panama school hat, voila! i had my very own cowgirl hat. i was different and i didn't give a damn.
i fancied boys. i fell in love with and married a wonderful man. never, in my wildest dreams, would i have imagined that i would one day fall in love with a woman...

two years into my widowhood i realized i was lonely, i had shared my life in the most complete and wonderful way for thirty six years. living alone without the comfort and companionship of a beloved partner was an exercise in empty. yes, i was still completely in love with my mann but he had moved on and i needed someone in my life. my very own someone, with whom to explore the infinite possibilities of today amd tomorrow.

fifty six years old and at a crossroads...
i needed to find a new love. trouble was, i no longer fancied blokes. the thought of replacing my beloved with another man...quite frankly sucked. i did try, i joined internet dating sites and corresponded with some really nice fellows. small problem...in the end they all wanted to meet and i would realize that i could not, perhaps would not. i was lonely, i was not ready.

what to do, what to do...
look for a woman to love! elementary my dear watson. i guess that the eryll who loved women had slept long enough. she had slept through my childhood, my wonderful life long love affair with manfred, she had slept through my mommy days. her time had come and she awoke, stretched and yelled OMG!

the immigrant...continued

the caravan

my children moved to scotland
said "ma, won't you come too
we've bought a farm with lots of land
we'll take good care of you"
so once again i packed and moved
to ayrshire's western shore
with rolling hills and craggy isles
can't wait to tell you more
we bought a little caravan
in which i might abide
it was not new, but second hand
they took us for a ride
the water pump, it failed to work
the fridge would not stay cold
but otherwise the van was fine
it was not all that old
of course there was the seeping smell
of leaking gas and such
but if you did not try to cook
it really was not much
i learned to turn the gas line off
and never strike a light
after all this was my home
don't want it to ignite
there was a tiny tiny room
contained a porta potty
quite useful in emergencies
and when your bowel is knotty

All materials Copyright © 2004-2007 by Eryll Oellermann

"wrap my words around you" daniel beddingfield

now i really wanted to insert this link into the main body of "more on LDR's"...
however...a technodyke i most certainly am not...sigh...damn thing would not work! i love this song, really wish i had written the lyrics myself....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-yYdrX1f4zE

more on LDR's

so now ... where was i...i had decided to stop ranting and bitching about herself's addiction to living in the usa. ah... the wisdom of age! of course i was still bubbling on a kind of very low simmer ... i'm not old enough to be that wise...

now herself's computer had been down, out of commission, kaput and herself had not read said whiny, bitchy blogs. until...omg who would have known ...her friends read my blogs, yoiks! most of my lady's friends are engaged in the practice of psychotherapy, as indeed, is herself. so what would be more natural than for them to inquire...

"how do you feel about eryll's blog?"

"how do i feel about what?"

hah! hah indeed!

never the less, our relationship has returned to a more even keel. in all truth, herself is a writer...
she would rather i wrote about her than i not write at all.
my lady was eventually persuaded that everything i write about her, is in fact, a love letter. which, strangely enough is actually true.

due to the small problem of an ocean between us, i may not always be able to wrap my arms around her but i expect i will forever "wrap my words around"(thank you daniel)her. herself is, after all, the most intriguing woman i have ever met.

i will always hold a little hope in my heart, that one fine day, herself will feel an irresistible urge...
to move across the atlantic and pitch her tent in the green hills of ayrshire. after all, how many women have such an opportunity... a chance to cohabit with such an interesting, impossible, adorable, aggravating, intelligent, unemployed, nomadic type of character?

the immigrant...continued

take out


the chippie is so warm
when you come in from the grey
the portions too are really huge
enough to eat all day
but somehow i can manage
to finish every scrap
it isn't even difficult
not now i have the knack
haddock or cod with mushy peas
a pie with chips and gravy
i bet the fish is not this fresh
not even in the navy
the Chinese buffet really is
a taste to tempt a saint
eat all you want, a siren call
to feast without restraint
the naan bread and the poppadums
of Indian cuisine
they help to fill the spaces
with a curry in between

All materials Copyright © 2004-2007 by Eryll Oellermann

getting to know

i learned of central heating
of windows double glazed
of duvet togs and thermal wear
i really was amazed
so much to see, so much to learn
the Christmas lights were great
fog and snow and lots of rain
and then there was my weight!
well, English food is something
i find hard to refuse
the shops so filled with wondrous things
it's difficult to choose
instant mash and instant meals
there is no need to cook
retail has remade our lives
don't need a cooking book

All materials Copyright © 2004-2007 by Eryll Oellermann

i love to rhyme

truth to tell i have a little writer's block...
in all probability brought on by guilt.
why guilt?... well there is a lot of fairly important STUFF i need to accomplish this week. the boring, the mundane. the everyday details of starting over on a new piece of the planet.

so... i am about to cheat. i love to rhyme and whilst others often have incredibly useful talents, me i have a rare talent in the art of rhyme.

when 'they' speak of the need to follow your bliss, a few things come to mind... loving and laughing and rhyming. if i ever discover a way to earn a living through rhyme...
i might well be tempted to enter the world of the gainfully employed.

a while back i started to write a series of rhymes about my experiences in my new country. i fully intended to complete an entire series which would be published and make me lots of yummy money. i even had the title ... 'the immigrant'! ah- the good old days, i was still an innocent... the time before i discovered that my poetical writings were unlikely to feed and clothe me, let alone finance the roof over my head. i have since come to realize that as a poet, i should be searching for a patron to support my art. anyone out there know of a patron looking for a poet to support?

yeah well... so much for writer's block...



leaving with panache


i used to live in Africa
i left in quite a hurry
my children are all Brits you know
and Africa means worry
God bless the queen and Tony Blair
my daddy he was British
entitling me to residence
and now my kids were skittish
i sold my house, i packed my bags
departed with panache
on board the plane i drank a lot
and hoped it would not crash
i made it safe to England's shores
November time of year
ah yes the skies were very grey
and raining too i fear
they took me to the little house
they'd organized for me
we talked and shopped and ate as well
and then they left me be

All materials Copyright © 2004-2007 by Eryll Oellermann

revenge

one thirty
in the morning
i wake
night sweat drenched
again
my body does that
revenge
no doubt
for my affair
with deodorants