‘Backlash’ (Crucifixion Vision)

You must learn to fight with your mind!

 Backlash
 
He's† coming
His† fierce wrath
–a warning
that will steal your laugh
 
He's† waited
as you gently
took your bath
seeing you
enjoy your treasures
He's glad
 
His† simplicity‒
riddled with an interesting sass
if you fall too far behind
on the graph
He† has an unwavering strap
administered by
a father's unconditional love‒
in a dash
giving you a chance
to bounce back
from your deep, darkened nap
 
but you haven't read
the telegraph
you haven't heard
the endless knocking raps
you haven't heard
the crash, the clash
or the blast
you haven't even heard
the slush
of His† slow drag
 
instead
you waddle like an ass
pretending to celebrate
honor His† flag
while others...with a bat
so willing to bash
 
round and round
lap after lap
slowly distorting Him†
in every class
mixing it all up–
commoners can't even grasp
leaving it all
to be given in mass
not willing
to take on the task
–it's all been a trap
 
the mark of the beast–
will be an easy lash
they will be willing–
without any wording sass
let alone
a flame from a shiny blast
 
how to measure gullibility–
the strength needed
to cure this rash
will take more
than attending a mass
or around waist
wrapping a sash
 
in the mind
will come the nag
–a played-out invisible rag
strange thoughts
making a face sag
doubt...oh! how nasty!
its constant drag
heaviness and confusion–
mixing it all up in lag
 
there's a better way to combat
this dark invisible rag
–powers hidden
once sealed–
too high to be grasped
it's now time
to bathe in its vast
opening it up–
the vaults...down...smash
 
mind for mind...slash
taking control back
before the Lamb† comes
in a flash
open up for a higher stash
–sorting through trash
with an energy in splash
 
yes, He's† coming
a warning in passing
a chance to be given
for a new class
a higher way
fighting in blast
a choice in self's brass
–thrive in eternity's musical jazz
or fall in evil's
forever fire-pitting trap

(August 24, 2019)―Wow! is how today began. A jolting out of bed at 4 a.m. to write. I didn’t want to get up. Three times I was literally jolted out of bed. I finally got up and I’ve been writing ever since. That’s what I’m suppose to do: keep writing.

I mentioned in a few writings that I’ll eventually have a section on here about my meditation journey…it will either be in a category or an entire section to itself. All I know is that I’m on an extraordinary journey and I’ve been on this journey for years now, only this time it’s elevated, and I’m to share the entire process here.

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‘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.

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‘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.

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‘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.

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‘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

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‘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’”

‘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’”

‘Source’

Anxiety created from the fight against codependency!

A sample from Book 11

  Source
 
she waits‒
closes her eyes
breathes deep
‒her face tingles
her heart races
her palms sweat‒
a heat under her skin
rises...coming quick
 
shh...she repeats to herself
 
each sound
each speck of light

builds the burning

she fights
 
shh...again and again
 
don't do it...not again
she begs repeatedly
 
settle down, please
 
begging, begging

the exploding need

building, building
 
forcing her mouth closed
forcing her body steal
‒as tears stream down her face
 
begging, begging
 
can't you see...anyone
can't you see

I'm trying, trying...
my grip is slipping...

 
as she loses control‒
her mouth yells
or her tears fall
‒no matter who's around
down, down, down
she falls
 
back to a child‒
innocent, broken
just for a while
 
'til she regains
strengthens
to go
one more round
in life's paradigm
where between herself
and herself
she fights
 
hoping, hoping
 
the next time‒
she'll steady the line
‒that too often...
breaks her holding-together vine
 
Continue reading “‘Source’”