‘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’”

‘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’”

‘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’”

‘Truth’

Racism, hate: Evil’s best friends. Don’t let it consume you!

A sample from Book 11

 Truth
 
liars seek truth‒
falsifying a life
without any light
 
manipulation...their due
cutting it on cue
‒without noticing
the coming dues
 
their belief‒
trying to convince you
all they do
true, true, true
backing them‒
there are few
 
their spots change
sending you to the loo
oh! what to do?
‒without cursing them, too
 
truth is truth
existing
no half truths
‒it's either all true
or just makings
of a waterloo
Continue reading “‘Truth’”

‘Traces in Forgive’

The Lie: Destroys. Steals. Kills. You decide!

A sample from Book 9

 Traces in Forgive
 
she felt its trace
sweet word's lace
soft-spoken based
deep inside-
yes...she felt its trace
 
sneaking up inside
like a burning desire

give it
let it live

as her sixth sense
stood the fence
 
no, no, no
it's all a show
 
face after face
encountering
same's constant date
lies, deception, betray
nothing real
stands behind
words in say
 
she bows her head
thinking of words said
 
why this careless play
why not just go away
 
then tears cry
not for self
as in her bed
she lies
–but for souls
behind her tries
–their coming day
served on a self-made
imagined silver-lined tray
 
karma
its coming arena
choices in free-will
consequences-
already sealed
 
in her bowed stance
she dances her dance
–for them
solemn in pray
nothing more to say
for truth
all they had to do–
say it
-her total
 
I forgive you
 
washing it
all away
 
now...just in self
to give
forgive
without them ever knowing
–her never willing
in showing
her forever hiding
her deepness
in always loving
as they live
in the continue of dying
 
as she moves
forward in free
 
even if she meets
the Lord first
 
in her bowed stance
knowing truth
they'll still be in fool
drooling in thirst
seeking free
without ever
having the joy of it
in see
 
Continue reading “‘Traces in Forgive’”

”Secret’ No More!’

Their Play Is All the Same!

A sample from Book 9

 'Secret' No More!
 
the cat's out the bag
 
on the surface‒
I no longer scratch
‒don't want to sound
like a hag
not even a nag
but I'm done
playing this little game
of tag
 
I no longer want
the jab‒
that sneaky, sly syntax
keeping me in a corner
my existence entrapped
secrets over nightcaps
 
for so long
at it
I merely laughed
playing along‒
this hidden
out-of-sight craft
 
for so long
I fell into its path
to feel barely half
of a lover's swag
 
not any more
do these eyes sag
I now see
the repeated red flags
 
here they are‒
if you want to keep track
here they are‒
if your eyes
are stuck in lack:
 
away from public view‒
begins
the slow, gentle snatch
 
text this, text that

a hi here
a hey there
even the wyd flair
 
then the ignore
playing-with-the-mind anthrax's
added-on little snap
 
maybe a phone call or two‒
avoiding a bit of snag
 
(the now understood common trap)
 
oh! how texting does that
 
‒just a tiny dab
the get-what-they-want hatch
 
turning texting to sexting
in a flash
 
then sit back...relax
as she falls in the trap
her mind...now attacked
with a little zap‒
man-ego-driven
mind-boggling witchcraft
sealed and wrapped‒
one-sided—playing-out wrath
 
sexting‒
the perfect-controlling telegraph
 
then comes
the moving-on slow raft
to get that big splash
‒adding to their stash
images behind
a monitored glass
 
a little skin
in flash
with some sexy sass
 
the building in pizzazz
wanting more
of that flabbergast
 
building, building
téte-a-téte
 
then veiled in a masque‒
when questions invade
the on-and-off going chitchat‒
 
a quickened spat
back to the ignoring splat‒
ego...alive and well
in combat
 
'til comes that final blast
flesh to unmask
an act in diplomat
making her feel all that‒
the sexy little kitty cat
 
‒the play in chat
becomes
an in-the-flesh transact
 
good or bad‒
putting her in abstract
continued words on a pad‒
her mind to distract
rather hijacked
from their away-from-her
reality fact‒
 
she's not the only lass‒
their on-going sexting hack
blatant ways in acrobat‒
that and this
this and that
 
'til her avoided questions
forces a react‒
 
why not spend time with me
why the constant disappearing act

 
she innocently asks
wanting beyond
the sexual wrap‒
wanting out of secret's
hidden tap
 
the continued avoiding lap
puts her mind
in wondering's rasp
 
all-stop...hold
goes the lit glass‒
with no returned téte-a-téte
or to-the-door dash
or a together attach
nor explanations to patch
or synchronizing photographs
not even a social-media match
 
her mind opens up‒
I've seen all that
recognizing perfectly
the plotted graph
 
experience, experience
the exact-patterned zigzag
she's once again caught
knowings in fact‒
 
their intentions
won't go
any further than that
 
for her unanswered questions
suspicions‒
her experiences in reasoning
reality's opened-up rap‒
 
she's just one of many cats
in their secret's rattrap
 
‒with all these red flags
no need for a polygraph
I don't even need an ax
or a wiretap
not even some mindless booby-trap
 
just a sentence or two‒
seeing through the claptrap
then sit back
watch the unwrap‒
 
innocence offers a laugh
 
let's fix this hash
to you...I want to holdfast
let's have a blast
out in the open

'let's make our splash
 
guilt opens up the wrath
 
a shutting-down fast
placing-blame lash
social-media delete
the final smash‒
the secret
given the shaft
 
no longer do I fly half-mast
no longer am I the secret
in stash
 
yes, the red flags
seen in perfect format
 
I'm no spoiled brat
not even
lost in over-react
 
this kitty cat
just knows where it's at
 
I'm more than just a paragraph‒
a secret in scraps
 
I'm all or nothing
an out-in-the-open en masse
willing to adapt
with another walking
the same path
Continue reading “”Secret’ No More!’”

When His Next Best Thing Comes Along!

This one sergeant in my Army days in Germany called me Marie Laveau…lol…another one bites the dust! One of them will be strong enough to handle my energy some day. If they can let go of their pride long enough. I’ve had enough of man-ego-pride to last a life time.

Continue reading “When His Next Best Thing Comes Along!”

‘Alone’s Passion’

Being Single Is Better Than Being Abused!

A sample from Book 8

 Alone's Passion 
 
I can do this, do that
without time
to count
 
no voices to hear
I want this, want that
missing it
no doubt
 
I can say this, say that
without being condemned
for going too north
or too south
 
I can talk to myself
out loud
as loud as I want
not worrying
to shut my mouth
 
I can wear
what I want
cover it or flaunt
 
I can sleep all day
play all night
jack up my music
keep on
all the lights
without anyone saying
hush...don't
 
I can sit around
day-dream
not do a damn thing
 
is there another out there
doing the same
 
still–
another's hand to hold
in want
–deal with the game
so in old
life doesn't die in cold
without ever
having another
know
how I roll
Continue reading “‘Alone’s Passion’”