‘Channel’

Don’t change your independent self because of another person.

 Channel
 
a bird flies when its free
it stagnates
in captivity
its colors blossom
in variety
fading in ambiguity
‒plucking them out
in atrocity
 
in nature...the act in free
all the same
in its facility
a trapping technicality
‒being free has its complexity
 
as a woman
in her diplomacy
giving true
to her effeminacy
when treated
with significancy
 
when she's satisfied
in her sexuality
she falls into compliancy
even in another's complacency
giving up her self-sufficiency
even her style in flossy
being, at first
blissful in buoyancy
 
as it goes...comes the decadency
becoming aware
of the deficiency
–a broken down fallacy
as she meets each exigency
 
outward...comes her adamancy
as gone goes her sexy
–an inward building pudency
her usual controlled diplomacy
loses its bearing
to rampancy
 
as goes the controlling austerity
saving-money hostility
‒slowly caving
in her impetuosity
 
attention...gone its notoriety
even her newly shaped nudity
once praised with delicacy
gone...with looks
words in vulgarity
stripping
all her sexy naughty
–leaving vagueness
in commonality
 
lack of interest
opens a familiarity
once ignoring
so much secrecy
once ignoring the mendacity
pulling forward
all its perfidy
as gone...all her sensuality
understanding
its diverted generosity
she becomes lost
in recalcitrancy
–the precious kitty lost
to lunacy
 
all for giving her free
to submissive captivity
for the awakening
of her sexuality!

(May 9, 2019)―It’s funny how life repeats itself when we don’t learn the lesson the first time around. The funny thing for me is that I wrote about this before. I guess it pays to write about it again. The woman and all of her charm and personality has a way of turning into the woman her man wants her to be. Hold on before you scream: That’s not true. I do have a very good point.

Continue reading “‘Channel’”

‘Love in Action’

Actions, in spite of resentment, still say LOVE

 Love in Action
 
no matter the resentment
it was given then taken
actions of love
still...not just a must
but a do
 
it's all giving
without judgment
helping without faking
actions in love
doing
without needing a clue
 
it's helping another
without commitment
being truthful
without manipulation
actions in love
doing
for words are not enough
 
it's getting over
the resentment
‒those taking without
returning the give
actions in love
still...a beautiful mark
on the heart
in the making

(April 30, 2019)―Resentment. I’ve written a lot about resentment in Book 12. It’s part of the codependency deal. A codependent will give and give without thinking of themselves and then they begin to resent it because they carry the expectation of being given in return. Of course, the given in return doesn’t happen most of the time. A codependent is a bit fucked up in a sense because of this expectation.

Continue reading “‘Love in Action’”

‘Shouldering Damage’

You deal and accept the physical damage caused by narcissism’s carelessness

 
Shouldering Damage
 
upon her shoulders
carries the weight–
shouldering damage
from those who couldn't stay
–a go-getter
they couldn't take
she...never wanting‒
any kinda hate
‒that was never
her intended fate
‒she let love lead the way
ending in heavy price's
to pay
 
only in moments
she lived in sedate
all them medical doctors
had to medicate
she just needed room‒
a bit of space
to grasp the idea
of her body ache
never using it as an escape
‒it hurt...and she was its bait
 
she knows she gave it all
she wasn't some pity rage doll–
standing somewhere in stall
she answered a simple call
–but others led her to fall
not caring the damage at all
 
upon her shoulders‒
she wears the cape
an anti-depressant to mask
a different kinda ache
–emotional chains
she couldn't tolerate
a burning heart
left in saturate
mixed with anger
lust and hate
screaming
without intentional berate
from love
that just couldn't stay
 
then again‒
she let love be her mate
a heart damaged‒
in too many ways
–again...a turn in obliterate
a brain burned in uncultivate
all that damage‒
on her shoulders
in blissful weight
men who couldn't bear
the cape
of her physical‒
being in waste
 
she knows she gave it all
she wasn't some pity rage doll–
standing somewhere in stall
she answered a simple call
–but others led her to fall
not caring the damage at all
 
she now wears‒
a suit of armor
from love's mate
as the heavy scars from fake–
I can't stay
you...I could only tolerate
builds her face
straight to a destiny's fate–
the writer in massive create
 
she...to never deny God
in whatever she faced
so she shoulders damage
left behind–
by carelessness
and self hate
building her rose‒
from a destroyer's
intentional state
 
she knows‒
she gave it all
she wasn't some pity rage doll–
standing somewhere in stall
she answered a simple call
–others led her to fall
not caring
the damage at all
 
oh! how
she can stand tall–
she picked herself up
from the fall
using the rest of her life
in God's hall
lost to true love's
missed call
she knows‒
she gave it her all
–it was not her
that caused
the fall!

(April 24, 21019)—I was sent to a heart specialist today. Although I’m 50, I’m always the youngest in the room when it comes to things like this. (I started saying this phrase back in 2013 when I returned to the VA. I was always the youngest in the room back then.) So, I’m sitting there going through Scriptures, keeping my mind occupied. I didn’t want to think about why I was there. Then I got called to the back. A slew of tests were ordered, including a monitor, which I’ll have to wear for a week.

Continue reading “‘Shouldering Damage’”

‘Hidden Treasure’

Discovering the hidden treasure in yourself!

 Hidden Treasure
 
I found it
in the mince of broken
it was afraid and hidden
an abundantly harvested token
‒over used and forsaken
 
I took it in
without fear's notion
‒not even feeling a demotion
I bathed
in its scented potion
rolled around
in its storied creation
 
I overlooked‒
its wicked formation
for I saw‒
a different translation
‒one that needed
a believer's gratification
one with a heart-filled formulation
 
I listened
to its every beckon
sometimes, in stages of drunken
 
all around...deemed it poison
something to be shackled‒
in a far-away prison
 
I threw out‒
traditionalized opinions
nothing stuck‒
rotten or forbidden
its scent just heightened
‒nothing could be wrong
or mistaken
 
I moved like lightening
intentional burns‒
gone...forgotten
‒days passing slow, steadfast‒
good ridden!
I drove it‒
to an endless vacation
‒whatever conviction
out...came my eviction
 
I smiled as I saw its rising
all my stops...fully opened
pulling it out of hopeless‒
with my inner-most motivation
‒a darkened star had risen!
 
I fought everything
in grand petition
every inside concentration‒
I put aside
rose to the occasion
‒with the fierceness of driven
this hidden treasure
overcoming every treason
to become the lamination
of a new generation!
 
stop!....
 
reveal
came its different ideas written
all avenues taken‒
off records...stricken
–beating all those defeating‒
overcoming...petitions
a losing validation!
 
I lost to its mention
‒there...in its private station
came to life‒
its own treasure hidden
in all its careful motions‒
belts and strings
forcefully tightened
 
I craved to be enlightened
–nothing valued...given
anything to elevate my vision
halted in moments of frighten
 
I fought constant bent roads‒
tried to straighten
tried to remember each lesson
through all that glistened‒
it had its own secrets woven
‒knowledge in listen
mixing up pointless decisions
taking all the forgivens
icing them‒
in the forever of frozen
 
yes, I found it
in the mince of broken
it was afraid and hidden
an abundantly harvested token
‒over used and forsaken
 
but all the good of will‒
off...steadily shakened
breathing‒
living a horrid token
in anger's hidden conviction
‒all that's been stolen‒
on others
its constant reliving
 
it found its way‒
in rebuilding
using knowledge given
slashing‒
all help's salutations
keeping to itself‒
a stolen formulation
‒to avoid sharing‒
treasures hidden
as I sit
in lost wanderings–
moments
I took it
out of forsaken
Continue reading “‘Hidden Treasure’”

‘Anger’s Infest’

Anger wants you steadfast! God wants you moving forward!

 Anger's Infest
 
feel it beneath your skin
evil's way of getting within
actions in horror's den
‒ways of evil's perfect sin
 
it'll trap you in cussing
it'll condemn you in swearing
pulling at you...probing
wanting your reaction
for it's only satisfaction
 
it'll take all
of your triggering notions
you...down...dragging
as it smiles
in sadistic laughing
craving your giving in
your fight...it's welcoming
celebrating
your mind's condemn
 
anger...evil's infested gem
words, actions
its consistency in playing
wanting you
self to defend
so it can celebrate
in its win
 
feel it beneath your skin
evil's way of getting within
actions in horror's den
‒ways of evil's perfect sin
Continue reading “‘Anger’s Infest’”

‘Humble of Mercy’

You Want It to Be! So Bad….

A sample from Book 12

 Humble of Mercy
 
she shivered in the sun light
thinking of words in the night
take care of yourself
make this all count
it's not as bad as it seems

 
–wondering...
if this is really all right
 
she covers her eyes from the bright
words...thoughts in her head
filling her morning's sight
you've heard this before
words of deception
he doesn't want you no more
don't let 'fool' be your salvation

 
‒wondering...
why the needless blight
 
then the bible's insight
saying it's going to be all right
 
the unease feels her insides
but her heart digs in tight
it was always him‒
since all the darkened twilight
why so hard to get it right
why so much fight
 
she washed her face
forced a smile to the light
dawned her makeup
ignored age's height
the saddened night
throwing sorrow to the wind‒
the need to cry...howl
all night
 
her heart sits right
she adhered to the boundaries‒
set outright
time needed with the light
she can't fight
without insight
cleansing her insides, beautying her outsides
letting the magic pour from God†
as age moves on
lessening her life
–each piece
becomes more precious, more fragile
 
learning not anymore
to gamble
what's wrong, what's right
just listening to the light
without a fight

(September 26, 2018)—

Praise for Joy and Security of the RighteousKeep me safe, O God, for in You I take refuge. I said to the Lord, ‘You are my Lord; apart from You I have no good thing.’ As for the saints who are in the land, they are the glorious ones in whom in all my delight. The sorrows of those will increase who run after other gods. I will not pour out their libations of blood or take up their names on my lips. Lord, You have assigned me my portion and my cup; You have made my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance.

I will praise the Lord, who counsels me; even at night my heart instructs me. I have set the Lord always before me. Because He is at my right hand, I will not be shaken. Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices; my body also will rest secure, because You will not abandon me to the grave, nor will You let Your Holy One see decay. You have made known to me the path of life; You will fill me with joy in Your presence, with eternal pleasures at Your right hand.―Psalm 16

Continue reading “‘Humble of Mercy’”

‘Knife’

Surviving the Knife of Those Who Betray You!

A sample from Book 12

(April 21, 2018)—That knife becomes weaker when we gain the support of others, when we start to see the true meaning behind our life. That knife doesn’t come out that easy especially when you see everyone’s true disclosure.

There’s so much to say, then there’s nothing to say. I have this much on my mind: If they don’t want to see you, it doesn’t matter what you say or do, they won’t see you.

I’ve said a lot here on Facebook. I revealed a lot…but there’s a lot I haven’t revealed. So you only get a piece of the puzzle…never the whole picture. Why? Because I do have a life and part of that life is private as for everyone else. There’s a lot of pain I cover up…and, yes, there is still pain. There will always be pain because an entire portion of my life has been wiped out…and not by choice.

I tried calling my daughter. It appears that she’s changed her number. I think that odd because the words I last typed her in text were answers to words she said to me, but I’m held totally accountable. Why? Oh, because I’m 49 years old and should know better. I’m the mom…but that doesn’t come into affect when I’m called by my name instead of Mom. Just saying….

 Knife
 
it was put in there‒
nice and tight
when I move around
to the left, to the right
it reveals its price
‒how it changed my life
the strength it took‒
robbing my mind
the way it makes me wanna fight
even if it isn't right
even if I said...say...things impolite
I was...am...gonna fight
‒even while speaking of the light
 
at times, I feel like a poltergeist
a faded memory...sliced and diced
forgotten the way I was
forever entombed in what I've become
not a homicide
‒a genocide of all that was nice
womanly, motherly...dignified
downgraded to a parasite
‒not fit for normal's life
 
should I be lost in contrite
bowed down in pity...outright
or was I absolutely right
turning childlike
begging for help‒
from Jesus Christ†
 
who has the right to decide‒
I'm the sacrifice
in order for them‒
to have their paradise
 
who had the right‒
shift truth to lies
bury this knife
in what used to be‒
a mother, sister, daughter, wife
 
in me...it so mystifies
how everyone becomes tongue-tied
when abuse is in transcribe
‒the victim screams in alive
how extreme...me...it mortifies
that, no matter which way‒
death...comes in die
twist, twist, twist the knife
gone daughter, sister, mother, wife
 
rebuilding exemplified
the alibis become jives
words in wisdom...just implied
while words...wombs...rob the mind
memories of building the first life‒
took one times forty-five
 
pull, pull, pull out the knife
time in modify
is there another forty-five
my, my, my how it mystifies
what comes of‒
pulling out the knife
Continue reading “‘Knife’”

‘Ex-foliate My Soul’

You have to leave others out of ‘self’!

A sample from Book 12

 Ex‒foliate My Soul
 
I still hear the winds blow
I know, still, from and to
the direction it goes
I depend, too much
on human souls
‒directing my emotional role
 
these feet‒
so stuck in muddy ground
I've lost the feelings
of being found
trying to understand
hear...every sound
I've stumbled away
from which I'm bound
 
raise me up, oh Lord†
unclog‒
these maggot-filled holes
rub your sands deeply in‒
pull me out
as you wash away clean
the filth
of this infested bowl
help me again‒
feel fit and lean
where I once had strength
of a lion
‒the sanctuary
of a crystal clear stream
 
enlighten my heart, sweet Jesus†
relight this drive
I so carelessly left behind
enrich my soul
wash away the corrode
so me, in ease, I can stand
on my own two feet
understand words in my heart
having strength to sort
‒without falling apart
 
yes, Lord†, raise my tempo back up
so I can feel, once more
the unstoppable me
‒that pure individual feeling
of being free
without the need
of another's glee
 
I open me up‒
mind, body, soul
I'm, again, letting go
so...whichever the winds blow
matter is not needed
for I'll be free again‒
in the total of
letting go
Continue reading “‘Ex-foliate My Soul’”

‘Allegorium’

What it takes to keep love!

A sample from Book 11

 Allegorium
 
  
 (what is it in life
 if you can't tell
wrong from right
 to see in sight
what is of great heights
 to know
from a wrong fight
and a right fight
 ‒one worth the cry
one not worth the try)
  
 there was a yell, a scream
an act of rage
 mixed in scents of sage
  
 she would leave
she would leave today
 her bags...she began to pack
 ‒the stress off her back
  
 she voiced everything
she wanted to sack
 her mind lost in a haze
 remembering
all those great days
 ‒reasons why she stayed
  
 anger filled in a maze
this way, that way
 ‒which path to take
  
 wanting to run
 in spite of the fun
 then in comes the pun‒ 
standing eye to eye
 tears suddenly
fill in cry
  
 we just can't be together  

 shaking
coming from deep inside

 I know 

 each not willing to move‒ 
standing their ground
 knowing
without making a sound
 it all comes down
to mixes in race
 different traditions
different tastes
  
 but that's just the base
 to what lies beneath‒
 experiences
in the lace
  
 wanting her to stay
 knowing
his moments in rage
 ‒can't keep her in a cage
 from her mind
it won't fade
 searching
for words to say
  
 wanting nothing in fright
 in his dark eyes‒ 
seeing the willing light
 wanting her to seek it
 please make it bright
 understand the hard in my life
 for it, I had to fight
 sealing up everything inside
  
 confusion succumbed‒ 
the sudden in rays
 from his silent, pleading glaze
 it's not just his aces and eights
 that's on the take
  
 she adds up the sum
to it, he wasn't dumb
 every piece, every crumb
has to be sorted‒
 to smooth out
the constant lump
  
 another chance
another steady ride
 taking each side
 ‒what's buried in hide
 no matter how many lows and highs
 wobbling
through pass homicides
 all those moments‒ 
others confused their minds
 making them want to pounce‒
 in anger...quickly dive
  
 thinking through it‒ 
hearing every sound
 warnings, confusion, heart‒
 feeling the surface of found
 wondering where its bound
this constant round
 has to sooner or later
release its hound
 when wanting to stay
is all around
  
 softly relaxing
the lines on her face
 that unconditional
is not in a trace
 ‒it's in the base
of foundation's lace
 without living in a race
  
 what others see as a toxic tray
 may just be
the difference in race
 in raised traditional's case
 ‒angers set in
wanting to be erased
  
 each learning to let go‒
 what once slapped them
in the face
 releasing anger's ways
 that keeps trapping them
in a haze
 ‒exploding in a blaze
  
 what is it in life
 if you can't tell
wrong from right
 to see in sight
what is of great heights
 ‒to know Jesus'† life
why for us, He† died
  
 love is worth the ride
for it, pay the price
 for the reward
   everlasting life  
Continue reading “‘Allegorium’”

‘Depths of Heart’

Mind your heart or others will not!

A sample from Book 11

 Depths of Heart
 
protecting self‒
not letting any other
put it on a shelf
seems to be utmost important
‒above anything else
 
for in self
happiness lies
rises high
above health
any amount of wealth
‒pulling the heart
out of hell
out of the darkest well
 
for in truth heart dwells
untied from man's inhuman belt
released from whatever shelf
man tries to impel
keeping the heart from melt
‒happiness locked in a cell
 
get out, get out
see yourself‒
way deep inside
where happiness compels
in heart
where it truly swells
Continue reading “‘Depths of Heart’”