who what where when why & how

who am i that i’m not enough or is it that i’m too much trouble?

who are you that you are there yet are not there at the same time?

what is a morning without the light that makes the day shine?

what good is the cup half full without flavor happiness adds to it?

where is my mind when i reach for something, anything, to pull me from this quicksand and what i grab is a ghost?

where do i go when the only place i want to be is safe?

when will you stop being on the tip of my tongue and heavy on my heart?

when will the idea of you stop being the first thought each day and the last prayer at night?

why do i love and need you?

why do you not?

&

how silent are the days without the music a happy heart makes?

how long are the nights knowing there will be nothing but dreams that lead to empty places?

a dozen questions

one answer

a dozen answers

one meaning

nothing

god

how i miss you

BATTLE LINES

I AM PTSD

A Wife’s Cry

by Lindsay Hernandez

I live in the shadows of minds I overtake
I am with you, every time you wake
You try with therapy, pills, and rest
I will overcome you even when feel your best
I suck the life, joy, and happiness out of your mind
All because I won’t be confined.
I wreak havoc on family and friends,
Just because they want to mend,
The broken heart I do bend.
I make you feel like you’re going mad
Just because you have seen something bad.
You fought for your country proud,
Now all I give you is screams aloud.
I am in your dreams, heart, soul, and eyes
And laugh because so many have cried.
They cry because they hurt inside
For the loved one I destroy.
I make you sick, weak and cry,
All you want to do is try.
To have a quiet day,
With no thoughts of what is at bay.
Just so you know,
I have put you through hell.
The worst day you have seen,
Is not at all what has been
Stored up inside your head.
You will never get rid of me,
For I am PTSD.
I will haunt your dreams and your wake
You will start to shake,
Sweat,
Cry,
Scream,
Beg to rid me from your thoughts,
I will be there forever,
I have taught you to never say never.
You kiss the ones who try
And, most the time cry,
To keep you safe and calm
For the storm has started since 2006.
For I dig my claws,
In to all surrounding jaws.
They don’t know what to say,
To make me go away.
From the hell I create every day.
The pain is so tormenting and deep,
All you can do is keep,
Me all to yourself.
For you are a soldier who has been trained well
Once again to live in this hell.

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

I Am Warrior

A Mother’s Answer

by Rhonda

you hide in shadows like the coward you are
coiled and ready to strike and jar
me from those moments I’ve managed to find
precious few minutes of calm in my mind
your aim is true as you grab hold and squeeze
twisting, constricting ’til I’m on my knees
my breath you take, my blood runs cold
then your fangs sink, that’s when they take hold
injecting your poison, this venom so vile
that it renders this warrior unable to smile
or to laugh or to love or to reach for the light
that shines all around him, through the love in his life
But hear me well…that light, love, and faith
are that which will beat you, send you to the gates
of hell where you came from, it’s there you’ll return
to the fire that birthed you, in it you’ll burn
for i am a warrior of the red white and blue
one of millions who are battling you
you’ve gotten fat on the ones you think beaten
but their war’s not over, nor mine, retreating
is not in our credo, our oath is unshaken
we fight for each other ’til each has taken
that final march in the battle to destroy
the silent pestilence invading our joy
standing together, warriors all
families, friends who’ve heeded the call
our mission is clear, you a clear target
our ammo is chambered, and lest you forget
we fight to the death for ourselves and each other
for each of our sisters and all of our brothers
we’ll drag your disease ridden, slimy carcass
into the light, no longer you’ll mark us
in shadows or nightmares, or memories unbidden
this light we will shine until all is unhidden
you can’t survive where there are no shadows
you can’t feast on a mind where truth flows
perhaps not today and maybe not tomorrow
but you will not beat us; bury us in sorrow
we are warriors, an army of light
we’ll see you in hell before we give up our fight
we know your name, we’ve got your number
PTSD?
Fuck You – You’re OUTNUMBERED
HOOAH

 

 

Two Steps…Yeah…Then One

Two steps forward

One step back

Why?

Why ask why?

It does no good

For every day of sun…

There are two of clouds

There’s a lesson here

I know there is

An opportunity to learn

To grow

But when is it okay to say enough?

No more school

I’m tired of school

School of life; school of love; school of fish…

It’s all the same

Two steps forward

One Step back

When we are close to the edge, trying our best

Little things become more than little things

They become

Bigger than we can deal with in any given day

On tHaT day

When is it okay to say

Enough?

Just

Enough!

Ever?

Wishful thinking?

Testing faith?

Thinking we are more important than we are?

Don’t know

Don’t care

E n O u G h

Tired of the tears

Tired of snot running down my face

Tired of feeling life is bigger than I am…

e N o U g H

Pretending is a ten letter word disguised as a four letter one

Take your pick

Fuck…Shit…Hell…Damn…

E N O U G H

Losing a marriage

Losing love

Finding love

Losing love

Losing love again

Finding love

Losing sight

Losing perspective

Losing…

Gaining should be the thing

And would be…

BuT

ENOUGH

Of the one step forward and two steps back

ENOUGH

Of the two steps forward one step back

Just

Fucking God…Enough

How Does Your Garden Grow

As some of you know…this has been quite a year for me

A year of losing a marriage of 31 years

A year of therapy and doctors and pills – (over, over, and no mas!)

A year of knowing time is short and getting shorter, with my beloved father; my Superman

Losing our beloved Ripken after only 10 years of furry joy

But also…

A year in which I found hope for new life and new love after 50

However, through it all…the worst of it…I found the best of it

The bare truth, the ugly truth, but the truth, just the same

And there is beauty in that

This is not a sad tale

I’ll say it first; say it loud and clear, my husband and I are together again

And while there are reasons for couples who’ve been together as long as we have been, to find themselves where we did…

There are also reasons to find ourselves where we are now

After we separated and during our time apart, I did find love

And while it proved to not be what I thought and felt it was

I learned I needed the possibility of it

I had to have it

I had to know it was possible

Not with him, as that is done before it ever really began

But knowing the capacity for that kind of love is still in me, has helped me understand

In some small way, that the man I chose 31 years ago deserves nothing less than what I promised him so long ago

And too…So. Do. I. 

It is with his blessing and understanding, which comes from the love and trust I know he has for me

That I am able to put the following out there because I must

For me

It’s closure of a sort

A new beginning of an old story deserves just that…a beginning

And in that same vein, the ending of the new story deserves its say.

And while that love was not, in the end, what I thought it was, it’s better as it is now

Friendship.  And a lifelong one it will be

I have NEVER taken love lightly – Any kind of love – Nor have I ever taken it for granted

But I find I have always needed the kind of love of which I speak and know too that I can’t settle for less

Nor would I want a partner who would either

And it’s there, still, with the man I married

It had gotten tangled in the weeds, but it’s there

My garden is all but free of the weeds now

Mostly clear, and clean, and ready for next year’s bounty

What’s left to be done is this…and it is with love for this someone who has become, if not what I thought, at least what I needed at the time, and what I’ll always need at all times…

A true friend and A beloved one

It’s rarely pretty, this finding love and losing love

It’s not always complimentary, exposing ourselves the way we do

But I love my friend, as much now as ever

And I hope he understands, as I now do, that the truth, given OR received, is never wasted on ones we love:

Rode hard, put away wet
Know the term? You do I bet
But here’s the thing…well, more than one
We all have dreams, or at least want some

We read the words from men like you
Meant to shock, arouse, and lube
Don’t get me wrong, they do all that
But there’s more to see here than that

If you’ll allow, I will explain
In rhyming time and sweet refrain
That which delineates the sexes
It’s more than just muscle reflexes

The matter of perspective arises
Far above your “cash and prizes”
As women go, I’m plain at best
At least the shell, the crust, the vest

But underneath, (not just for me)
There is a fire, so plain to see
But only plain to those who dare
To look beyond the graying hair

The less than fit, the age defined
The stretch-marked bellies, the Swiss cheese minds
Women of certain elegant ages
Have printed upon their bodies’ pages

Their stories of love and pain and laughter
Their tales of lives that we’re all after
But when we fall for men who seek
The more fit, the young, the more sleek

We feel pity more than other
For negate they do, that once their mothers
Were beautiful in the eyes of one
The one they trusted, who gave them sons

But you close your hearts to love and trust
The only thing left is shallow lust
Which produces naught but sweat and cum
May be fine, enough for some

When the end is near in our lives’ journeys
We’ll lie upon our final gurneys
Does one suppose he’s surrounded by
The lithe, the fit, the candy eye?

I fear, my love, that won’t be so
Fear even more there will be no
One at all, regardless of..
The state of fitness..nor of love

For if you set your sites so low
As to allow for only those
That please the eye, the prick, the glands
Forever you’ll dwell in Never Land

Even Peter Pan learned the trick
To not just grow, but teach his dick
That though the fit and the buff
Will feast the eye, it’s not enough

To satisfy a life long need
To touch a heart, to plant a seed
In love and trust, eternal gladness
To have that one to share the madness

Of every day life in every days ways
Of every day love and yes, the haze
Of lust and fear and pain and sorrows
Of knowing they’re there through our tomorrows

My wish, my hope, my fear, my joy
All rolled in one for you my boy
Is that the day you meet the end
You know you’ve done as you intended

For to wait upon the reaper’s time
With naught but wishes to fill your time
Is no way to greet the earth
The final rest, the final dirt

To know you’ve lived and loved and tried
With all your heart despite your pride
To give out more than you’ve received
No more we’d ask, no more we’d need

To face your death with lightened heart
Evolved from apes, from apes apart
Our choices bring us far above
What evolution thinks of love

For apes we are and apes we’ll stay
But apes are not all the same, I say
Some just fuck but some will love
Some for life, some far above

If it were not so, I would bow
To Darwin here, and Darwin now
But for myself, to this I say
Close your heart to love, you will pay

In the end, it’s all we’ve got
That makes us different, far apart
From just biology and lust
That fades, with time, and so does trust

The Laddie is a Tramp

I cannot, in all honesty, say it thrilled me when I heard the kids had gotten a Trampoline.

With a 12-year-old and 3-year-old on that behemoth bouncy bone breaker, I had visions of head wounds and little fingers and toes caught in the webbing, and mid-air collisions that would result in trips to the emergency room.

However, never let it be said that Grammy Rhoni is not one to ‘give it a chance’.

So, on many a morning during our recent trip to almost heaven…I sat with my trusted and constant companion and just watched.

I’m glad I did and hope you can see why.

My laddie is definitely a TRAMP!

The hours of laughter, sweat, and no tears are worth every wrinkle the idea of this thing gave me!
The hours of laughter, sweat, and no tears were worth every wrinkle the idea of this thing gave me!
my turn
I observed big Alex having as much, if not more, fun than the little Alex dude
But he DID get his turn!
running
What heart wouldn’t melt at seeing the end of such a time?
Mine sure did.
What a sight!

So…I guess the lesson here, for all you Grams and Gramps out there…look before you leap; to conclusions that is.

Supervision, common sense, and a love for life is all that’s needed to make this a safe place to be a TRAMP!

🙂

Bridges

A twist on the twister lovingly known as crazytraintotinkytown. Dallas and I have collaborated twice before this one…her stories, my photos. This time…my photos first, and she wrote the story around them. I love it and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do…it’s one of my favorites so far.

I hope you notice the header on Tink’s page as THAT was the original challenge photo.  A series of photos of Bridges.  The photos in the story were inspired by Tink’s writing.

If you’ve not picked up the gauntlet and collaborated yet….do it! It’s G R E A T! So, without further adieu, “Bridges” by Dallas Dyson at Crazytraintotinkytown.

crazytraintotinkytown's avatarCrazy Train To Tinky Town

This is another of my collaborations with the stylish and very elegant Rhonda over at 50 Shades of Gray Hair. This one was more of a challenge for me as Rhonda supplied the pictures and I wrote the story around them. I have loved working with her and not only is she a great photographer and a perfectionist but a generous spirited soul too. So on behalf of myself and my team-mate we hope you enjoy it as much as we enjoyed putting it together.

I opened the letter with trembling hands; the one that I had been waiting weeks for. It had arrived in the morning post but I had crumpled it into my pocket and delayed reading it until my Mum had left for work. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to share it with her but I just didn’t want to feel guilty either.

Mum and…

View original post 773 more words

687 Miles to Sloppy Kisses…

It’s been over a year and a half since I’ve seen my grandson Alex, who turned 3 in April.
I can think of nothing I’d rather do than share the next few days with you as we get reacquainted and fall in love all over again…

The Journey:

flag collage 1
The first 200 miles
Old Glory flies high and
Gas prices do too
140 miles more before we leave the high cost of living in the Northeast behind…
post collage 3
The layover at halfway
Storm on the horizon
Unwanted voyeurs
One who is thankful for the break.
345 miles to go for sloppy kisses…
Water, water, everywhere...and not a drop to drink! Oh...and a windmill.
Water, water, everywhere…and not a drop to drink!
Oh…and a windmill, of course.
300 miles more to giant hugs from little arms
farm country collage
Tooling down the Blue Ridge Parkway headed for the home stretch
Silos and Barns growing out of the Corn
and oh….
Crackin’ the Barrel on every corner!
200 miles and we pop the top and pull the cork.
The Kudzu Climbs The Gas Prices Fall And the Caverns are Cavernous!
The Kudzu Climbs
The Gas Prices Fall
And the Caverns are Cavernous
100 more to their front door.
The first hello is always shy...but give him time, our little guy.
The first hello is always shy…but give him time, our little guy.
play ball collage
Next thing you know they’re playing ball
Basketball, football, soccer and all
Running, shooting, fetching, “no fair!”
I’m goin’ swimming…hop in gram, we’ll share.

So ends the first day…worth the trip and worth the  heat.

Stay tuned for the next installment…getting down on the trampoline then popsicle parties and bubble magic.

🙂

For the Love of a Damned Good Conversation

I was working on a post this morning, having to do with the tons of fun in the sun trying to sell a house in today’s market (yeah, right), when as often happens, a short sidestep away from the center line resulted in being led down another dirt road.  But that’s life, especially my life, as I live for the treks down the less traveled dirt.

This particular step off the line was a conversation with a friend that began with small talk about the Gawd awful heat wave and remedies for sun burns, meandered to the pros and cons of having your home and all its contents spread all over the air waves for any ol’ burglar to scope out, tip-toed into current affairs generally and recent events in the Florida courts specifically, then naturally (!?!) morphed into what it must be like for a child to be raised in a Muslim household that forbids TV, radio, music, internet, and playing with children not of their own religion.

Don’t you just LOVE these conversations that sprout tentacles like a giant squid?  I do…I love the random nature of them almost as much as the feeling of comfort I get knowing we can talk about anything…all at once!  Very stimulating to say the least.

Anyway, post Muslim life discussion, from which we both came away thinking we’d like to try our hand at reading the Koran, the conversation jumped the broom to religion in general.  While one of use believes and the other does not, one thing is certainly true:  Where we find intolerance, bigotry, segregationist thinking, there is usually a religious aspect fueling it.  If we are ever to see the day when our planet’s caretakers can live in true peace and brotherhood…religious fanaticism or extremists, of any kind, must see the end of days.

This of course ‘evolved’ into, well, evolution.  Which as a non-believer in religion of any kind, is in fact, the religion of choice.  Past the talk of apes and chimps, we discussed how humans are shown to have an innate ability to share.  Yup.  Share.  Which of course led to whether being kind and empathetic is genetics or learned, and whether lesser traits, like competing in all respects, is too, learned or innate.  Survival of the fittest after all, with no moral force guiding it?  For the non-believer, the take is that we are just naturally a ‘nice’ animal.  For me, the believer, I tended to agree, but still harbor some doubt.  I do think, that while certain characteristics of humans are innate, most are learned behaviors. Basically, nature vs. nurture.  An old and forever on-going topic of discussion that has its own, very long, dirt path.  We discussed why certain behaviors occur in some animals and not in others.

For instance, the beaten dog.  How can a dog who knows mostly pain from the hand of its human, still find it within itself to lick that very hand the few times it might be extended in what one could only marginally be described as love?  It’s insane.  Yet, it happens all the time.  However, for a child to be reared in the same way, the risk is far, far greater, that the result could just as easily be a non-empathetic psychopath as it could be a loving, thriving, kind, and generous, human being.  Is that a choice? Nature vs. nurture again?  I used myself as an example, and even so, I still have doubts about it…or maybe doubt is too strong a word.

I have questions.

Being a victim of childhood sexual abuse (The year that broke the dam) from the ages of 5 to 14 and a victim of rape at the age of 19, one could imagine that I could have become a bitter, angry, mean-spirited, non-trusting, love-hating person.  But I didn’t (Back on the Road).  I’m like the beaten dog…and I don’t mean to sound overly dramatic here…it’s more a visual aide.  I live a life filled with as much love as there is hate; as much beauty as there is ugliness; as much need for love, both to give and to receive, as distrust of it.  So, it begs the question…was this my choice? Or was I bound by genetics to grow into a woman with a heart and huge capacity for empathy?  I don’t know.

But here’s the rub, and ultimately, the reason for our long stroll down these particular paths…in speaking with this friend, it was pointed out ardently, that I do, in fact, have a wonderful heart, a good and strong personality, a huge capacity for love, and that (this is the key) I’m beautiful on the inside.

Ah yes…the beauty within vs. the beauty without (is that the term? doesn’t sound right, but you know what I mean).  I, for one, actually HATE that phrase.  I love that I am, don’t get me wrong, but it’s a double-edged sword for me.  I fell into the trap long, long ago, that it’s more important, at least initially, to be more beautiful on the outside. It has been my experience, and I just may have to take the responsibility for it  (Delusional Illusions), that people who could not see beyond the surface passed me by without a second glance and without having the pleasure of getting to know me.  I’m not alone.  I’m certainly not unique in my thinking this is the way of things. I say honestly, if it was a choice to be the way I am, it was not an easy one, but for me, the only one.  Why? Genetics? Nurture? (shrugging shoulders still)

So while I do still struggle with this question, the conversation, for all its meandering, did help me see that hard or not, choice or not, I am on the right path.  My path. And if Joe Blow from Kokomo chooses to walk by me because I don’t look like a Playboy centerfold…I say one thing (well, I say it behind his back ’cause I’m nice)…

Fuck You!

We are all beautiful…let’s get to the heart of it, shall we?

IMG_7683
Yes…my photo…and yes, I draw hearts in the snow…and the sand…and the dirt…it’s just how I roll.

 

Delusional Illusions

Growing up as I did, I had to become a master of delusion.

And a master I was.

I managed to convince myself I was happy, normal, thriving, even exceptional at times.

But, as with everything in life, it ends.

That day came when the delusion hit me square in the face and I found myself staring at a naked stranger in the mirror.

So what’s to be done?

Face my naked self?

See life as it is for the first time…stare the ugly in the face and see beyond it?

Reach into that mirrored heart and grab that frightened, yearning, amazingly loving, little girl and give her a chance?

That would be a most difficult, utterly terrifying path.  Yet a fine one indeed.  A healing thing, a healthy thing, a loving thing to do.

Or…how about exchanging the delusion; that umbrella of fantasy under which life was so real as to be believed; for one of illusion.

I know it won’t be entirely real; just enough to convince me that I can be happy.  No longer deluded, yet not quite ready to face the ugliness in the mirror.  Not quite strong enough to bring her out into the open to face the fact that life is not fair; life is not pretty; life is not forgiving…it’s just life.

So illusion it was…for a time anyway.

But…as all things in life do, this too did end.

An even more painful death than the delusion.

The delusion took my face and smashed it into my mirror.

The illusion died slowly, with tiny little blows that wounded me a piece at a time.

With it’s whispered ‘I love you but…”

And it’s well intended, but still misguided “You’re too good for me…”

The true shield behind which the illusions spew forth “It’s not you, it’s me…”

And the fatal blows to the heart “I’ll always love you…”

a & f

The delusion?

That my damaged soul and wounded heart could find love and peace, inside or out, anywhere but in my own heart.

It’s not possible without facing the naked truth that no matter how much I love another, it won’t last until I love myself enough to see beyond the mirror.

a & f

The Illusion?

That my damaged soul could tell the difference between what’s whole, what’s honest, what’s without fear, and what’s my illusion.

To realize true happiness and true love I must stand naked and fearless in front of that mirror.

And besides my own, the eyes of the one I love are the truest mirror I’ll ever face.

If I’m willing to see it, the reflection will be one of truth. My truth and his.

Stark naked, no illusion.

I’ll see trust, kindness, inner beauty, desire, love without qualification, and acceptance of who and what we both are…in all that naked glory…or I’ll see nothing.

If I see doubt, fear, unease, tempered or guarded emotions, and conditional love…from either of us….I’ll run.

♥  The delusion is dead.

The illusion is dead.

Life is bare…

it promises nothing and offers only what you are willing to pay for

it is as ugly as it is beautiful…

it is as rich with humiliation and pain as it is with pleasure and joy…

but at least it’s now naked…

Now is the time for truth