Duality of Self

September 30th, 2014 Posted in My Writing | No Comments »

Duality of Self by Betty Leigh Verbeke

 

lately, when I spend time in a group of friends

whether it’s with 3 people or 15

I subconsciously count another there

an extra being, or a thick shadow of one

the first time it happened, I was hanging out with two friends at their apartment

we were all seated around a table and I kept sensing that there was someone sitting right next to me

like there was an imaginary barstool with a body resting on it

I could feel their presence, their vibrations

after glancing to my right multiple times trying to see this invisible thing that I felt,

I decided my mind was just playing tricks on me

however, as the night unfolded, the figment of a figure stayed there with us

and I realized that I was somehow switching views with this presence

I was viewing myself from a different perspective,

an outside perspective that I could also feel from the inside view

I was splitting in two and I was literally sitting next to myself

sometimes I would be in my body recognizing my other outside half

and sometimes I would be my other outside half recognizing my body

it sounds insane, I know.. but let me try to explain a little with this:

we are not our thoughts

we are not that little voice inside our heads that keeps us up at night

well, technically, that is us, but that is just a part of us, that voice is just the ego talking

the true us is outside of the ego, it’s the universal us, it’s the everything else that recognizes that little voice

now that we have those terms, the ego self and the universal self, I’ll continue with my story

when I’m in my separate self, my universal self, I’m viewing my own body

I’m watching my movements and I’m watching my ego speak in autopilot on my behalf

my ego self is the girl who was confused as to what the presence was in the beginning of this story

when I’m my universal self, my higher-self, I’m connected to everything

I’m able to view myself from the universal perspective

in those moments, I’m my truest self because I’m the universe literally viewing itself

I’m everything that is and was and ever will be staring into the mirrored reflection of my own creation

and I’m able to appreciate the volnerable skin & bone self that I’m creating

it’s the best work of art I’ve created thus far, and it’s still in the process of being created

it’s the me that is alive and represents the entirity of the universe through the Betty Leigh Verbeke experience

I’m able to see all that I’ve gone through that makes what I’ve currently become

and I can see small projections of where I’m possibly going in the future

the most fascinating part of the duality dynamic is I can’t feel when I switch from one perspective to the other,

whether I’m in body or out of body, I’m still fully me both times, so the transition is seamless

my ego self is able to feel my universal self watching me at the same time that my universal self is observing my ego self live and speak and be me and everything at once

the time I’m able to really tell the difference is when I can feel every single one of the countless number of stars flooding my mouth and veins that seem to have no ends, and then in the next moment I can only feel the stars surrounding me in a blanket of knowledge and love and understanding

when my ego speaks alone, when I’m watching my ego talk from my universal perspective, I can see all the words are saturated with déjà vu

I can see all the little memories that created the ego soaked into every syllable,

just like my pillows and clothes were with your scent when we used to fall asleep together, tangled with each other

when my ego speaks, I hear you on all of the consonants, whether hard or soft, you’re there

the former us, we are there

what we were and why we aren’t anymore, it’s all there

my universe self sits in the spot where you used to stand

I’m viewing myself from where you used to see me and where you used to love me

I question if I now feel myself more than ever split into these two separate but same parts of me because I’m filling the void of where you used to be,

of where you left that empty space when we said goodbye,

the space that I technically created because I was the one who ended it the second time

yet you still take up so much fucking space in my day to day ego driven thoughts and in my universal heart that I’m starting to share with someone new

this someone who is absolutely wonderful and can see my ego self and my universal self as one and can appreciate her in the everything that she is

and I can see his duality of self as well, and I know I appreciate all the galaxies that we share and all the black holes that our egos get lost in

yet somehow I’m stuck wondering why you can’t see me at all anymore

but I guess it’s for the best

I fully trust the universe

I know that it’s unfolding perfectly and that everything is working out exactly as it should

I know this because the ego self and universe self are both me and we are everything that is and was and ever will be and this is all just part of our Betty Leigh Verbeke experience

Merman

September 3rd, 2014 Posted in My Writing | No Comments »

Merman by Betty Leigh Verbeke

 

to the man I met on land

who asked me out for a swim…

 

we drove to the coast & shed our clothes

we walked naked into the ocean

eyes open & arms wide

letting the sea swallow us whole

 

we willingly sank to the bottom, unafraid

we danced with the clams & let the salt water fill our lungs full

we grew gills & held hands,

exploring the dark unknown together

 

we laughed

we played hide & seek in the coral reefs

we sprouted scaled tails & you braided my hair with seaweed

 

we had no definite plans for the future & we had endless time

yet somehow, anticipation found us there at the bottom of the ocean

 

maybe it was the shimmer of that sailboat you spotted

or maybe it was the memory of sunshine between our toes,

either way, we decided to surface again

 

once back on land, our gills disappeared & our tails split at their ends

oxygen refilled our lungs & it was a pleasurable burn

our fingers unfurled from one another & we took separate paths off the shore

gaze now focused anew on the city,

no longer lost in our sweet adventure through the depths of the sea

 

today, visiting the beach is a different kind of fun

the friends I bring like to splash and play chase the waves

without words, “it’s too risky to dive deep,” is what we say to each other

instead we build sandcastles & smile

we let the sun shine between our toes

 

but when I dream, I repeatedly swim back into the coral caverns, seeking my hiding Merman

the memory allows me to hear the bubbles we made while laughing

when I awake, I find salt in my ears & dried seaweed braided in my hair

 

I wonder if one day I will find another man who likes to dance with the clams

 

 

Naked Diver

November 13th, 2013 Posted in My Writing | No Comments »

Naked Diver by Betty Leigh Verbeke

 

standing on a cliff’s edge

the tide beckons below

wanting you to dive in

wearing nothing but skin

 

the waters crave to rush over you

and find each crevice

to leave specks of salt

in all pores

to compress your lungs

till they are completely absent of air

 

traces of sensation

from your last plummet

moons ago

remain in the shadow of your mind

 

you know you can swim

and will surface again

but there is no predetermined measure

on how deep you’ll get this time

 

you may touch bottom

and want to stay

 

terrifying and thrilling

you want it badly

trusting how it can hurt yet soothe

 

contemplating the leap

may take seconds or days

ultimately

you start to undress

 

taking off your shoes

one lace at a time

then socks and pants

off goes the jacket

discarded in the wind

and the blouse you wear follows

 

the waves lap against the rocks

singing your name

willing you to dance

 

a few more steps

and sways of the hip

panties fall to the dirt

feeling vulnerable

hands rub up your body

and to your back

bra unclasps

and slides off your shoulders

 

completely raw now to the eye of the ocean

it roars angry with lust

 

dive, please, dive

it pleads you

 

breathe deep

before you submerge

it reminds you

 

no matter how far down you go this time

it’ll be ok

it lulls you

 

inhale

 

run

 

exhale

 

jump

 

inhale

 

crash

 

it’s alright

naked diver

you will surface again

if you want to

the sea reassures you

 

icy warmth pricks every inch of flesh

the immediate panic of calm sets in

swimming till you feel nothing

but your inner radiant light

filling the darkness

 

you enjoy the rush

the comfort

the love

the unknown

of the ocean

 

<3

 

Miss B. Haven’s Obituary

November 28th, 2012 Posted in My Writing, Thoughts & Thanks | 2 Comments »

Miss B. Haven, a well-loved orange Honda Fit, died Sunday November 18th, 2012.

In an unfortunate event, a large 8-point buck decided to end it all, for he had been suffering from chronic depression by being teased all his days for his deformed antlers.  It is believed that he was unaware that his suicide would take another life, the life of a sweet little car.

Miss B. Haven led a good life, being owned, and now surviving in memory, by Betty Leigh Verbeke.  Betty adopted Miss B. Haven in 2006, right out of the womb of the automobile industry.

Over the last six years, the two of them spent many hours on the road together, approximately 81,000 miles worth.  Miss B. Haven was able to see much of Texas and had a few long road trips through the United States, one of which was to Florida and back, just car & owner, a bonding experience never to be forgotten.

If you’re wondering where Miss B. Haven got her name, she was deemed such in the last year of her life for her rather debaucherous and fun life style she led with Betty.  Such occasions will not be elaborated on.

However, not all of Miss B. Haven’s life was a luxurious road to wheel experience, she had been in a few accidents before the final blow of the horn.  She had encountered a stop sign, a concrete wall, a large tree limb falling after a storm, and sadly enough, another small deer a few years before.

In summation of her life, through the rough and the wonderful, she was a well cared for and loved vehicle.  She took on many passengers and kindly assisted friends & family in moving from one location to another.  She will be missed and always remembered.

Cheers to you, Miss B. Haven, may your engine forever roar in Honda Heaven.

<3

Sunbathing

June 26th, 2012 Posted in My Writing | No Comments »

Sunbathing by Betty Leigh Verbeke

 

I feel your stare crawl up the length of my body

Like ants in a single file line on the kitchen counter

Leading to my mouth of a sugar bowl

Astronomer’s studies heavily freckle my arms

Depthless galaxies settle on my shoulders

The Milky Way sweeps across the bridge of my nose and cheek bones

Faintly twinkling under the bright ice gaze of my Neptune-blue eyes

Tan lines mark the edges of the wrapping paper to my body’s gifts

Soft cream cashmere cuddled with buds of pink rose

Thoughts of your tongue tracing my petal’s edges roll around in your mouth like a delicious hard candy

Sucking slowly, not swallowing the daydream before extracting every drop of flavor

Beads of fresh sweat rise on my skin

Following trails leading to shallow pools collecting in my crevices

You want to dive in

Have my private ocean’s salt water sting your eyes

Desire burns in you hotter than the sun under which I am bathing

The rays you are emitting penetrate deep beneath my skin

Your flaming gaze catches my exposed flesh on fire

You inhale deep as you extinguish the igniting look

Unseen smoke fills up your lungs with my scent

An aroma of melted stars and crisp roses escapes as you exhale slowly

 

Back On The Shelf

April 24th, 2012 Posted in My Writing | No Comments »

Back On The Shelf by Betty Leigh Verbeke

 

I’d apologize,

But I’m not sorry.

You just weren’t what I was looking for.

Yes, I know,

I picked you up.

Out of a row of many books,

I chose you.

But the choice was based purely on your title,

Your author’s name,

And your intriguing color.

Yes, I handled you with care.

You felt the support of my palm on your spine,

And the strength of my hand holding you.

I appreciated your cover.

I read your back,

Getting a little preview of what you were all about.

I even read your reviews;

They were great.

While I lightly skimmed your story,

Your edges felt my fingertips.

The smell of my perfume hovered around us.

You felt my warm breath soak through your thin papers,

Beyond the ink printed on the surface.

I read a few lines from page 52,

Then some on page 127,

And part of your last chapter on page 386.

I absorbed your words,

And made an assessment.

I quietly closed you,

And put you in my basket.

I carried you around while I shopped for other books.

I leafed through your companions;

Some of them joined you in my basket.

You saw that I treat all books the same,

With honest care and consideration.

But before I went to the check-out,

I made a second evaluation of my choices.

I picked you up again,

And re-read your back.

Again you felt my hand holding you,

My palm supporting your spine.

Yes, I walked with you,

Pressed between my arm and chest,

A firm grip kept you safe from falling to the floor.

But instead of buying you,

I put you back on the shelf,

In the same place I found you.

Thank you so much for sharing yourself with me,

But you just weren’t what I was looking for.

 

Unspoken Words

April 8th, 2012 Posted in My Writing | No Comments »

Unspoken Words by Betty Leigh Verbeke

 

I am your reflection

And you are mine

While we enjoy this moment

Basking in our beauty

Our unspoken words

Cast shadows on the ground

They dance in silence

Sharing secrets long forgotten

And future moments ready to unfold

 

 

An Artist’s Thoughts

February 26th, 2012 Posted in My Writing | No Comments »

An Artist’s Thoughts by Betty Leigh Verbeke

 

I’m an artist

When I draw your outline and fill it with paint

I do it carefully

Perfectly

It takes time

 

As you become a better muse,

I become a better artist

And as I become a better artist,

You become a better muse

 

Right now, I am still in the process of sketching

I’m keeping the paint in the cans

I haven’t picked the colors yet

You will know

When the easel comes out

When the brushes are ready

When the canvas has been set

So calm down

It’s all part of the process

Art is a process

And I am still in the process of sketching

 

All the sketches are thrown away at the end of the night

Those angles will not again cast the same shadows

 

But the final portrait you will hang on your wall

Still wet, dripping with fresh inspiration

 

It will be the most divine piece of art you have ever seen,

Have ever been a part of

 

But you have to wait for it

Because I am the artist

And you are the muse

And I am still in the process of sketching

High

December 21st, 2011 Posted in My Writing | No Comments »

High by Betty Leigh Verbeke

 

I’m high

All the time

Not on weed

Or coke

Or booze

Or caffeine

 

Ok, maybe caffeine

I do have coffee

Almost every morning

 

But that still isn’t the high I’m talking about

 

I’m high on life

 

On the fact I was once in two places

An egg

And a sperm

Floating

Waiting to fertilize

 

I’m high

 

High on that I live

Every day

Every second

Every inhale

And exhale

I’m here

And I get to share it with you all

 

My mind is fucking blown

 

I make my reality

I shape it

Like a potter and their clay

 

Everything, I choose

And I always have the choice

 

I am so high on choice

Choices to act

To feel

To think

To learn

To share

To be here, now

 

So high I can’t even function

 

Giddy on the fumes of yesterday

And tomorrow on the rocks

With a twist of today

 

So high I don’t even know what I’m talking about

 

Un-fucking-believably high

On life

 

And maybe caffeine

 

 

No Question

November 23rd, 2011 Posted in My Writing | 2 Comments »

No Question by Betty Leigh Verbeke

 

Last time I was here,

I wanted to ask you

If you felt it was necessary

To feel pain

To produce “stage-worthy” poetry.

 

But before I formed

The proper placement of words,

I already knew my answer.

 

See, I choose to exercise my free will.

That’s right,

I am an optimist.

I am the conscious creator of my thoughts,

Feelings,

And actions.

I understand and utilize

My autonomy

To better my life

And those in it.

 

I love your poetry

And I am moved

By your pain.

 

Now give me a chance

To move you

By my triumph.

 

My life IS rainbows,

And butterflies,

Blue skies,

And watching the sun rise,

But I see it fall too.

However,

I find beauty in its departure

And appreciation in its absence.

 

There is no yin

Without the yang.

A bird does not sing

Without a song to sing to,

Without another bird to listen.

 

I am here to hear your words.

Mine are:

Life,

Love,

And the pursuit of happiness.

 

I am my own role model

And I am damn proud

Of who I am.

 

The past gives inspiration,

But the future gives opportunity.

Which do you prefer?