Just by chance?

A fellow blogger who posted “I LOVE YOU” to all his readers. He also expressed that his childhood lessons never included how to express his love in ways that were healthy like verbally and hugging. To prove his sincerity he revealed his real name. This is my response as it was sent with no spell check or editing. 

I came by to pay you a visit and I discovered THIS. Some would call THIS a post. Doing so, would not be technically incorrect. However, giving THIS any one single name would be horribly wrong in so many ways. THIS is your heart. THIS is your pain. THIS is your wish. THIS is your confession. THIS is your end. THIS is your start. THIS is your past. THIS is our future. THIS is your connection. THIS is even more than you and I can mention.

I know THIS was hard to give the world. For that reason, I want to show you that the world that your fear will treat you the same as the man who had the title of Father in your life; is actually very loving if you are aware of its acts of tender care. While it would be easy to just dismiss the meeting of us as chance. Perhaps it is. But my desire to believe that all the forces of evil I have encountered in my life must have a force in place to balance it out makes me believe us meeting was not just chance. I will give some evidence to support my belief.

I started my very first blog just a little over a month ago. By chance, I came across a post the_Lunatic made that impressed me so much I introduced myself. By chance, she told me the reason for her blog was to be honest with herself and the world so she could hopefully get some power over her demons. By chance, I share her mission. By chance, the good impression she made on me made me to read her blog regular when most of the times I just allow the reader decide which blog will get my attention. By chance, I came across you through her blog. By chance, I decided to check out what you offered. By chance, I loved what I saw. By chance, On May 5th I posted the following on Facebook, “Billie Ann Howell-Zahir – One of the saddest things I ever had to admit to another person was the sad fact I did not know how to hug. Sure, I knew the mechanics of the process but my insecurities and fears made the act more painful than enjoyable. Recently, I’ve practiced more while letting go of my fears and insecurities. Now….I wonder how I survived without them. :) By chance, you posted this on May 7th. By chance, today one of my followers told me they found you through me and was highly impressed. By chance, I decided to check in with you. By chance, I found THIS. By chance, while so many others shared pain similar to yours as a child, it is me who KNOWS the shame and burden not knowing how to be hugged and hug. By chance, I know from experience the constant torture I endure being a person who is so full of love for others it often overflows and looks silly yet I fear hugs still despite the efforts I made to embrace the act of hugging.

I might be wrong…but what are the chances of all these chances happening to put me in place to write this to you in hopes to comfort?

Thank you so much for offering THIS. THIS gives you more of an identity than any name given or chosen could. But to keep things easy…I will call you any name you feel is best.

LOVE from me to you….

Advertisements

Forever A Clown

I was a joke, when I was young.

Laughter, so loud, at my expense stung.

The sound bending me over in agony.

Hunkered down, took a journey.

Mind went afar hoping laughter done when awoke.

Older now, sadly naught changed since I was a joke.

Think I would learn, to deal with pain.

Joy, with role as clown, I could feign.

This one ability, could save me my face.

Instead, tears engage in a race.

No matter what I do, I follow the same pattern.

I am a clown to all around…think I would learn.

Don’t Know If I Wanna Go (Rondel)

Will I be given a place in Heaven?

What is a ticket worth?

Was I issued one at birth?

Is that my long awaited mental haven?

If I do go, I hope my legs are freshly shaved

and I’m wearing a girdle to reduce my girth.

Will I be given a place in Heaven?

What is a ticket worth?

If I do go, I hope all are seen as even

not unequal like here on earth.

I don’t want to be looked at with mirth

or, worse yet, others who were told of my sins faces being graven.

Will I be given a place in Heaven?

Senryu

People all around

Yet I’m all alone

Sad state to be in

Mother’s Day 2013

As of a few moments ago, I hit a Mommy all time low.

I asked a girl, who is about my daughter’s age, to be my pretend daughter this year.

How sad is that?

This is not literary trickery,

this is my real life.

I know it’s something unheard of

to have a child who wants nothing to do with you…

but that is the reality that rips out my heart every day

and this Mother’s Day

will slam it to the ground and stomp all the blood out.

So, in reality,

my pathetic request of a young lady

who does not despise me and who,

I honestly believe,

believes I have some worth…

is an attempt to save my life.

I know one day

Baby of mine

will allow me

back into her life.

My only goal…

is to live and see that day.

That will be the day

I will be resurrected

no longer be this shell of a woman

you now see before you.

Begging

Born a beggar with hand held out.

“Pardon me sir, can you spare a hug?”

“Excuse me lady, do you have an extra kiss?”

Food, shelter and clothing
Were panhandling earnings. However, yearnings were for so much more.

Desire was great to be that one gift in a person’s life

that made them think THEY were not worthy

to be in possession

of someone

full of light fresh from HEAVEN.

This is the birthright this beggar was denied.

So here I am….a beggar with hand held out.

Peace Found

I saw the lake

I sat on the rock

I listened to the sounds

I shut off my mind

PEACE is what I found

I was beauty as far as the eye could see

I was comfort for those who sought rest

I had all the right words at the right time

I LOVED me at that moment

Peace is what I found

You find that place

You take a seat

You listen to all the sounds around

You shut off your mind

PEACE is what you will find

Mother’s RIng

After being reminded of our Mother’s birthday,

I remembered the Mother’s ring she was given by us all

on some occasion I do not recall.

I do not know what her feelings

were

or are

about that ring

but I do know mine.

I remember growing up

being amazed

how all the stones were arranged

in a way that would make anyone think each stone,

right to left,

were not placed in order of birth.

September’s sapphires placed at either end.

The first was a son.

The last was a son.

Both turned out to be the daughter’s emotional rocks.

Always looking at the sensibility of living in a family unit

and enjoying

not having the emotional outbursts

that rocked the boat of our clan.

They have learned

if they walked away long enough…

all would be well when they returned.

Next to sapphires is the garnets.

Eldest daughter

Youngest daughter

Both share the same dirty brown stone,

 loud laughs everyone enjoys hearing…

and little else.

The eldest found her path in life early and never thought to stray.

The youngest path is a wondering one

she has no want to find ”the path” but explore them all.

Both believe paths are ”right”

and never see eye to eye.

Both blind to their similarity

of freely giving bits of wisdom

out of love.

In the middle of the ring

 two stones that have no match.

Growing up,

I felt sad

about their aloneness.

Only after getting older,

and learning who the people were

did I see the connection

between the stones

and the persons.

The Diamond is rare

holds great value.

Worth of the pale stone

risks being forgotten

when surrounded by all the color.

This person,

like the diamond,

stands out

catching fire in the light.

She draws eyes

to the beauty of the stones

yet refuses to be outshone by them.

The lone emerald

the remaining daughter

just like in the ring

brings a sense of peace

and purity

to the collection.

Both beautiful enough to stand alone

but opts to bring he gifts to all.

I loved that ring as a child.

The ring is how

I knew my older brothers and sisters.

I hope Mom passes it on to me.

As long as that ring has us all in a row together,

I have hope

someday,we can do the same.

Free from past baggage

and learn to appreciate the beauty of each other.

Much love to them all

from this

dirty red

Garnet.

Putting on a Show

My JOY is a dancing elephant

Bigger than life standing on two feet

Putting on a show for all those watching

Smiles are on all who can’t help to find the positive vibes

from this Majestic Beast infectious

People’s minds are so focused on what they are seeing

somehow

someway

they forget

This oddity that fills them with so much elation

is in reality just a

plain ol grey pachyderm

and something that would be easy to ignore

and forgotten

The illusion is kept

as long as can be

However, like all good things, the dancing ends

The beast is tired and can’t continue to entertain

Two feet that were once in the air; come down

without a sound

A proud trunk which once delighted the crowd with a trumpeting sounds

Now went limp with exhaustion

and the now hidden mouth is panting

The once exalted animal exits the arena

Those who once were enthralled

divert their attention

to the new attraction put in place

diverting attention from the lumbering animal’s slow retreat

After departure of the now forgotten spectical

People continued to have a grand time

untill they were told it was time to head home…

When the time has come for the tent to come down

People heading out never associated the big animals doing manual labor

who they feel no sympathy

with the fascinating beasts

who defied gravity  and made grand sounds

bringing them such delight.

That is why

my joy is a dancing elephant.

Not a poem just some free writing that will lead up to one with time. :)

I once got lost in the town I lived in.

It was the middle of the night not another car in sight.

Everything looked familiar yet strange.

Right when I ran out of gas and I laid my head on the wheel wondering if I would ever be found….my step-dad Ray knocked on the window.

To this day he has been the only man who missed me when I was gone enough to go that extra mile to find me.

That is a story I need to tell.

He Let Her Dance

A girl,
denied her youth,
steals a moment.
Rain falling
Sun shining
Puddles forming
Believed her new umbrella
would be her only witness
as she danced without worry
just for an instant.
She finally felt the joy
of not trying to be perfect.
Shoes wet
Movements clumsy
Umbrella twirling
Her treasured moment
was shattered in an instant.
A man she spied
who was not her Father
yet claimed he loved her Mother.
All efforts to be perfect…gone.
She was caught
being perfectly imperfect.
Her dismay turned to delight.
Eyes did not belittle
Voice did not raise
Mouth did not frown
Her heavy heart lifted.
She felt tiny seed of worth planted
and vowed to love him forever
in an instant.

Scruffy Angel With A Message

I want to share a story to show my gratitude for one of the best gifts I have ever been given.

The gift I hold so dear, was presented to be by a fellow junkie.

We had nothing in common besides our shared addiction and the building we were housed in.

We would kill time between therapy, smokes, snacks, and meals talking about this, that, and nothing.

However, during one of our one on one stress relieving sessions, I told a story that was always so painful and filled me with shame…

Even though I was only a child and the victim.

As soon as I started…

I wanted to stop…

but couldn’t.

Instead I told my sad tale like it was a joke.

I laughed at my pain so as not to burden this recent stranger with feeling obligated to pretend he cared and give me some token pity.

I wanted to end it with a final laugh and give him a Newport as payment for his time…

But to my surprise no pity was given. In its place I was given the permission to allow my feelings be first.

He told me my story was not funny and I did not need to laugh.

He knew what happened must have hurt…

The weight of my pain was less as he showed me compassion.

He said when somebody hurts me it should not be funny.

He gently put his hand on mine and said he thought it would be better if I cried.

At that moment that wonderful junkie served as a wittiness to my tears I always kept hidden…

When I already felt he gave me so much…he gave me one more.

I saw tears fall from his eyes.

How could a victim ask for anything more!

Soon after, we went our separate ways…

But I swear this on a stack of Bibles…his gift will always remain close to my heart.

And in my heart, I know this grand gift could never be given by a nice junkie unless God used him to teach me this life changing lesson.

I don’t ask why God allowed such a bad thing to happen.

Asking why does not take pain away. It did, and that’s that.

However, the pain I lived with for so long did feel less the day God used a kind junkie to give me the permission and compassion needed to make it easier to deal with. 

Emotional Ride (A nod to Tony Haynes)

Although all alone

     Bothersome thinking nil

Caged they appear to be

     Distant rumbles heard

Escape accomplished

     Fear sets in

Gaining momentum

     Harbor in minds they seek

Insanity is their mission

     Jokes not said heard

Kind words sought

     Laughter blasting

Mockery of pain felt

     Nods of approval needed

Open arms sought

     Pleas for pain to vacate

Quickly relief is found

     Retreating fast like it came

Salvation is found again

     Tremendous weight lifted

Unique this ride is not

     Virtually found world-wide

Women Men alike

     X-ing them from society

Your compassion is asked

     Zilch is the cost

Doll

Doll

Human representation

Stiffly always watching

Secret keeper seeing all

Jumeau

Shatterd Glass

Shattered glass on the floor; Impossible to ignore

“Time heals all wounds,” they say

“Impossible!”

Declares the people bleeding.

shatteredglass

Amongst the shattered pieces

droplets of red can be seen.

Some browned with age

Some still a fresh screaming scarlet.

Who is to pick up this mess?

Those who have tried bleed.

Those afraid stand in one place.

Who is sane? Who is crazy?

One thing for certain…

We all see the shattered pieces of glass on the floor

because it is impossible to ignore.