Tag: grief

‘If I See’

Peace and love be with you in times of sorrow.

 If I See
 (for Austin Jenkins
 and his mother who mourns)
  
 if I see you
 I will say hi and smile
 I will laugh with you
 and joke and tell stories
 if you need to cry–
 I will cry with you
 I will wrap you
 in my arms
 and protect you
  
 if I see you
 I won't just wave
 I'll gladly embrace you
 fill you with joy
 we can go pick flowers
 or walk in the wind
 or sing gentle hymns
 while holding hands
  
 if I see you
 we can talk for hours
 complain and compliment
 whatever you need
 I'll sit and listen
 I'll be glad to
 it's not at all a bother
 it would bring my heart
 peace
  
 but if I don't see you
 know I love you
 don't be sad because:
 we did smile together
 we did walk together
 we did smell flowers
 and hold hands
 and talk and laugh
  
 mom, don't cry
 I'm in paradise
 I'll now watch over you
 signs...here and there
 I'll send to you
 the butterfly–
 in all its shades of blue
 I'll send to you
 I'm still here, mom
 a being...no more a human
 part of God's† house
 waiting for you
 no rush...I can see you
 mom, don't cry
 for I can see you

(February 11, 2020)—The Unexpectancy of Death—I have something else under the sun: The race is not to the swift or the battle to the strong, nor does food come to the wise or favor to the learned; but time and chance happen to them all. Moreover, no man knows when his hour will come: as fish are caught in a cruel net, or birds are taken in a snare, so men are trapped by evil times that fall unexpectedly upon them.—Ecclesiastes 9:11,12

‘Backlash’

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
Continue reading “‘Backlash’”

‘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!
Continue reading “‘Channel’”

‘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!
Continue reading “‘Shouldering Damage’”

‘Unconditional Terms’

‘Unconditional’ Fades When Another Takes Your Place!

A sample from Book 12

(July 25, 2018 [Didn’t post on Facebook.])—When toxicity takes its toll, there’s nothing to say or do.

A weak heart turns to go, finds a new heart to rip apart. A strong heart cries alone, struggling to regain ground, move on. You don’t lose to cheating. You lose to betrayal. That’s why those who don’t marry, stay single. They can just hang it up, move on to another. The faithful one can’t do this.

Continue reading “‘Unconditional Terms’”

‘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.

Continue reading “‘Knife’”

‘The Bitch of It’

Sometimes you just gotta to be a bitch!

A sample from Book 12

  The Bitch of It
  
 what the hell!
all of it
 you hear that, you hear this
 ‒what is it!
  
 first they want thin
then they want fat
 first they want blond
then they want black
 first they want
a down-with-it bitch
 then they want
a church-going chick
 first they want
the naught of it
 then they want just sit
 first they want
the free-thinking kind‒
 intelligent and shit
 then they make
the do-it-my-way dip
  
 what the hell!
all of it
 you hear that, you hear this
 ‒what is it!
  
 first they want
drama-free tits
 then they add the fits
 first they want
the sex-driven licks
 then they forget how to kiss
 first they want real's click
 then goes backwards the flips
  
 what the hell!
all of it
 you hear that, you hear this
 ‒setting confusion's tick
  
 it's all the bitch of it
 flip, flip, flip
 when you're trying
to get a grip
 the crap of it...clip
  
 old bitches come in to sip
 trying to slyly unzip
 when down falls
their run-away crib
  
 new bitches force in a rip
 sending those pussy pics
 flirting to get a hit
 trying to fill
voids in the flip
  
 for a secured woman's commit‒
 it's all a big trip
a playground's nip
 she doesn't have time to rip
 ‒quivering lips curl
to laugh's fit
 because....
she's the bitch of it
Continue reading “‘The Bitch of It’”

‘Do Your Thing’

When they’re paving the way for another ‘thing’!

A sample from Book 12

  'Do Your Thing'
  
 standing still, so rigid
 memories return, so rapid  
 do your thing
 words that seem splendid
 once before, becoming frigid
 leaving me in stupid
  
 words that shouldn't‒ 
but still stick
 like a repeated lick
too afraid to admit‒
 concentrating on self's wick
 leaves doors open for the slick
  
 that's just not it
 it's that aged-old skit
 played out...without a script
  
 distance begins the slit
 less hugging, more anger
 words constantly in twist
 ‒making the mind constantly flip
  
 there should not be panic
 when felt before
this tactic
  
 flip, flip, flip
 skippy, skip, skip
  
 the past's certain mimic
 leaves only you in chaotic
 breaking your spirit
 turning to God for guidance
  
 less comes the kisses
every ounce of erotic
disappears in a lick
 ‒the body is just an it
 you become invalid!
time with you, the omit
 things get drastic
leaving pure conflict
 and you are the reason for it
  
 how to be so quiet
 when affection‒ 
you can't even solicit
 pushed away...again and again
 leaving you frigid
 a body drowning
in an unhealthy orbit
  
 taking you're the reason
for it
 you're not pretty enough
you're too fat, too sad
 when...in truth's logic
their argument, distance‒
 all part of the already written
transcript
 ‒no need
    to repeat it!
Continue reading “‘Do Your Thing’”

‘Thoughts in Suicide’

When you’re driven to the point of wanting to take your life!

A sample from Book 11

 Thoughts in Suicide
  
 I sit to write‒
I had a destructive night
 one...again...I had to fight
 get out, get out
I screamed in shout
 then alone I pout
wanting to die
 ‒these thoughts in suicide
  
 I gather the pills
 then to the floor
let them spill
 then picked up the phone
 dialed somewhere
not to feel so alone
  
 1-800-273-8255 press 1
 my crying's already won
death won't come
 I can't forget‒ 
a promise not moved to undone
  
 she waits in my thoughts
 the one in memories
brought
 the one to the floor
pills fell
 myself's destruction
caught
Continue reading “‘Thoughts in Suicide’”

‘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’”
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