Tag: poems

‘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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‘What Comes Out’

Anger: How changing this one emotion can change your entire life!

 What Comes Out
  
 she weighed
the things she's said
 ‒those retaliating words
 she weighed
the things she's done
 thinking it all hard love
 but it was anger
 ‒acting out
over another's danger
  
 what makes you do
these things?
  
 she pondered the question
 the only answer: retaliation
 she bowed her head
in confession
 responding to those living
in secret
 putting her in the dark...deeper
  
 she weighed
her lost of control
 ‒all man things took their toll
 grabbing at her in hold
 her...letting it all
use her in bold
  
 anger's put her in the red
 shaped thoughts in head
 then actions without thought
 knowing the wrong
in every heart beat
 then came further heat
  
 she weighed
all these things
 knowing too late always rings
 seeking truth
sets off anger in sing
 it's her life
not just some fling
  
 she sighed just a bit
thinking these things
 anger's become a distraction
 at times
giving satisfaction
 ‒the evil whore's demolition
  
 she bowed her head
in greater confession
 this her greatest sin
 one...with‒ 
she no longer
wants to blend

 control‒ 
a fight she's determined
to win
 ‒using gratitude
from God's† den‒
 the only way to contend
 ‒be put in the light
from way deep within

(April 27, 2019)―There are 2 large garbage cans that came with the house I live in. When we first moved in, they were in the corner of the garage. The side where I park my car. My car door opens up to the wall side of the garage. I have boxes stacked in there, which I never unpacked also on the side where I park my car. About a month ago, we were told by the landlord that we had to clean up the backyard. After the winter, the pine needles and pine cones had added up. So, in order to make my job a little easier, I moved the garbage cans to the side of the house, inside the metal gate. Since, they were out of the way in the garage, I moved over some boxes, which made getting out of my car easier.

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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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‘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’”

‘You Bitch!’

Simple Ways for You to Defeat Negative Self Talk

A sample from Book 12

 You Bitch!
  
 I've got an itch
 ‒pouring through my mind
a well-dug ditch
 screaming words in myth
to the highest pitch
 forcing me down a darkened pit
 ‒a text-blasting trip
 becoming an accusing witch
 out to smash an invisible zit
  
 every word on my lips
 disguised in angry fits
 passing along this typed niche
 thinking it's hip
making itself rich
 ‒taking advantage of my slip
  
 you evil bitch!
I'm gonna smash you to bits
 I'm so tired of your shit
 in the bud...I'm gonna nip
 not for a moment anymore
 forever...your throat
I'm gonna slit
 
 over the top
I'm gonna flip
 dunk you
down below...permanently dip
  
 no more...you get wit
 over the head‒ 
you...I'm gonna hit
 no more playful glitches
 in God†...get a good whiff
 of wine I'm gonna sip
sit back‒
 finally be done
with your controlling, irrational blip
 up goes my middle finger‒ 
see the tip
 up yours!
you piece of shit!

(October 16, 2018)—Are you mad at me for cussing? Get over yourself. This is a commentary that screams—It’s time for some cussing!

I’m going to give you some good information here if you suffer from depression, anger, negative self-talk to help you start turning things around in your life. Don’t worry. I’m taking this same journey, so let’s ride!

I’m doing two workshops at one time. The one on anger which I wrote a few posts about this past week and a happiness workshop. I’m also reading a second workbook titled Pathways to Recovery, A Strengths Recovery Self-Help Workbook by Priscilla Ridgway, Diane McDiarmid, Lori Davidson, Julie Bayes, and Sarah Ratzlaff.

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‘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 Righteous—Keep 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’”

‘Aversion’

Forgive Yourself for God Has Already Done That!

(April 8, 2019)—The commentary for my piece titled ‘Salvation’s Need’ I speak about salvation and God taking grace away if we go against Him. A friend called and told me that God does not take away grace. I beg you differ.

Ever since the incident with the Jeep, I have been reverted back to feeling like crap. I can’t seem to return to the good diet that was making me feel great, nor the tanning, nor the exercising. I’m told to get an attorney and sue these people, but, at the same time, that’s not what I’m supposed to do. Faith. I’m supposed to rely on faith. I’ve been battling with all of this lately.

I finished my vow. I’m supposed to wait now. And my relationship with the sweet man…what relationship? All my values, morals, principles are in question right now…every single thing I stand for! The voice of death has crossed my threshold several times in these last couple of months because I’m so tired of fighting, so tired of people lying to me. I’ve been in a battle per say.

I have been working late on my website and getting up late each day. I had gotten myself on a schedule, but that has been thrown out the window. I suddenly have that rush again…like I’m up against a clock. So, this morning after reading a few things on Facebook, I got my coffee and sat down. My Bible and writing tablet staring at me. The pull to cry came from way deep inside. And the tears started to fall. I started to feel sorry for myself. I see my sisters posting about their lives. My little sister and her family. I asked myself, ‘Where’s my joy? Where’s my family?’

 Aversion
  
 You† stripped me of life
 sent me into strife
 in order for me
to truly see the light
  
 I knelt...prayed for truth
 stripped of wisdom‒ 
made into a fool
 only to rise then fall in glue
 stuck in deceived...malice
 drowning in the body's surface
 lust took hold...every crevice
  
 my mind stuck in evil's drool
 lying, stealing...seeking revenge‒
 all evil's time in consume
 I surrounded myself‒ 
in the duel
 bathing in its fumes
 yelling, pulling, yanking
 trying to see truth
 ‒in all I assumed
  
 all its evilness‒ 
pulling me from the light
 pushing me‒ 
to take my very life
 over and over‒ 
keeping me in strife
 leaving...I think not!
laughing at my struggle‒ 
in fight
 holding me down from flight
 suffocating‒ 
blinding my sight
  
 I prayed to see truth
 now I see evil's embedded rules
 the play‒ 
leaving countless clues
 lust being its endless tool
 using love‒ 
in its game of fools
  
 Lord†, I see the aversion‒
 I see the message in truth
 in my mind‒ 
the careless insertion
 ‒troubled heart
sunk in its inclusion
  
 I know why they sink‒
 into drugs...sexual immorality
 they were too young
when it all begun
 to fight evil's manipulating reality
 get to the children first
  ‒You† showed me this
before any verse
 revealing truth‒ 
way before my coming doom
  
 then my 360...then the loop
 three adults in evil's coop
 the wreckage‒ 
I didn't know what to do
 for I was encaged, too
  
 get to the children first
  
 innocence‒ 
pulled from the light
 no strength
to put up a fight
 ‒growing up
with an inside strife
 splitting the mind
 evil...preventing
the thinking of twice
  
 Lord†, thank you
for the truth
 please clear my mind‒ 
fill me with You†
 evil strangles
all that's true
 I'd rather be filled with You†
 than lust's
    careless drool
Continue reading “‘Aversion’”