On Christmas I Always Remember…

Remembering Ray, my Stepfather who was better to me than my birth parents, I wish to recognize him by posting a poem I wrote inspired by a moment we shared that had a lasting impact on my life. Hope you enjoy every moment you have with friends and family. After all, if a loved one does pass away you will regret every lost moment you did not make them a priority. However, I promise, you will never feel any of the moments you did spend with them wasted.

“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.

Hooray!
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.
She had another witness.
A man she spied
looking out at her.

They have just met.
He married her Mother.
He was not her Father.
She already had a Dad.
What if she was bad?
Alone, was her bet.

She did not want this man to hate her
She knew, too well,
the hurt hate creates.
She tried really hard to act right
for every second,
in every minute,
in every hour,
in every day…
until this moment today.

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 a tiny seed of worth planted
and vowed to love him forever
in an instant
even though
she only
called him
Ray.

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Anyway

While other woman wombs swelled with a life they knew forever love would become. I knew eventually, your love I would be denied and I cried.

I loved you anyway.

While other woman hugged, kissed and watched their child play. I always felt I had to keep some of myself away and save you from exposure from my decay.

I loved you anyway.

I knew the secret. I was nothing and you were perfection. I was happy just to be part of your conception. Pretending to be worthy of anything more was just a deception I foolishly believed for moments myself as I endeavored to make you believe awhile.

I loved you anyway.

At times beasts which could harm you, more than I, came to our door. I fought them with the little power I possessed. I hurt when you declared I was the beast and it was my claws you wanted to ignore.

I loved you anyway.

Now, you have gone on your way. You have your wounds from my fails as a Mother. But from the distance you keep me at you are a sight to behold. You have pride in yourself and know you deserved more than what you got in life…and you are right.

I loved you anyway,

Forever.

Known But Never Seen (A Love Story)

I fell in love today with someone I have always known.

 She was brushing her hair, and I was brushing mine.

 when I caught her eye, no lie, for the very first time.

Her face had no make-up.

 This gave me a chance to absorb her natural, even if it was raw, realness.

It was beauty beyond what can be found in magazines.

 Her allure was in her imperfections

and not some manufactured rendition of beauty.

Seeing my new found love this way,

I took a moment to appreciate visual evidence of every

 laugh she unleashed, frown she felt, scowl she showed,

and every moment she felt nothing

because those where the things which carved the face I adore,

and serves as her witness to the life she had endured.

In our many encounters, we had showered together before.

This time, however, we knew the experience would be different

I was going to take this time to know every inch of her.

 She was scared, doubting us indulging in this delight was right.

Knowing this, I did not rush her.

I knew she would open up in time.

I let her go through her shower routine.

I allowed her the initial downpour from the shower.

I knew, those first moments was when

she soaked in the sensation of being blessed with being clean.

I appreciated the way that she tilted her head up to the heavens

and slowly rotated;

making sure every part of her was sanctified by wetness.

When this holy moment passed,

we had fun singing off tune

any bits and pieces of tunes that caught our fancy.

 As we enjoyed this freeness,

 I was struck how she just gave me

one of the rarest gifts…nobody before me…saw

 her like this.

When she started the process of washing her hair

 was when I knew it was my time…

to make my move and let her know

the celestial being she was

by allowing her to view her radiant light through my eyes.

 As I lathered her hair, I told her to relax and enjoy.

My fingers messaging her head with just the right pressure.

Slowly, I could feel and see her muscles trust by surrendering

to my tender touch.

After she was shampooed and conditioned…and I wiped her eyes,

I could see all doubt about our taboo time together

in the shower erased.

Her eyes were hooded.

Each touch I slowly reverently administered she allowed

to shine the light of her essence.

 Her legs, which she thought stumpy and shapeless, she now saw as strong.

Her arms, she hated showing,

she became aware of the elegance

as they stretched up and her fingers dripped fragrant floral suds.

Her breasts, she saw only value being as sexual lures,

she no saw how the magic of their adaptions

throughout every one of her major life changes.

 Together we mourned for the pain wearing

confining contraption brought to the tissue

that loyally stood guard over her heart.

I made sure she was aware

any part of her that endured so much as they had

and bore the forever scars and temporary marks

never deserved to be considered less that exquisite.

When our showered ended…

I did the exalting of parts once more as I dried her off.

He once, pale skin was a rosy red with all the attention I gave it.

Before I wrapped her beauty up in a towel,

I stood her in front of the mirror and said,

“This is me, looking at me, and today I fell in love with the person I’ve always known but never took the time to see and appreciate before.”

 

 

 

Not Forgotten

i was not forgotten today

today, of all days, i feel

feel the need for kindness

kindness of a thought

thought about me today

i was not forgotten today

today when i was so sad

sad about not being remembered

remembered with loving thought

thought about me today

i was not forgotten today

today when moms are exalted

exalted i was not

not by the one i hoped would give thought

thought about me today

i was not forgotten today

today an angel cheered my heart

heart that was saddened

saddened heart was brightened with a thought

thought about me today

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….

Mother’s RIng

Billie A. Zahir aka "The Eye"

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

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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?

Please (Etheree)

You

see me

as I want

to be seen by

others in the world.

The gift you give with eyes

felt like sparks of pure delight

starting its warm feel good journey

in my lonely heart, jolts of heat spreads

to my toes and finger tips..NEVER STOP!

Kiss (Katauta)

Always too fleeting

Two souls touch leaving imprint

Forever lasting

My Brave Artist (Villanelle)

I’m in love with a warrior artist.

He fights demons without making a fist.

I have watched him battle, with pen in had, he is the bravest!

I know his shoulders are not the broadest

and he is not considered part of the A list.

However, this is sadly the plight of any true artist.

He came into my life when it was the bleakest.

The world seemed to be wrapped in a suffocating evil mist.

His words slashed away at my gray existence proving he is the bravest!

I know, you are right. My opinion is biased.

But wanted to let you know about this great man…or at least a gist.

I want all to know of my love, the artist.

He entered my life when I was at my bluest

and gave me what I needed to have other colors with a twist.

Men, full of brawn, were daunted. Making him, small in stature, the bravest.

I have never been considered the brightest

and care others  have for my opinion  probably does not exist.

However, my heart would never find rest if I did not sing a tune of praise for the artist

who fights demons with his pen because he is the bravest.

Love Talk Too Soon (Tyburn)

Luncheon
Mention
Tension
Question
He and she luncheon, mention heart.
Both feel the tension, question smart.

SISTER OF MY HEART

SISTER OF MY HEART My pen flows with pure emotion as fuel when my heart and mind keep on compelling an in-depth accounting be given of the unique role you have played in my personal development.

SISTER OF MY HEART, as you know, my emotion is often hard to capsulize within what is considered the acceptable confines
for a poet by civilization’s prose and poetry élite. But in an effort not to bore you with too many words, an honest effort will be made to be concise.

SISTER OF MY HEART my depth of gratitude for your existence in my life is without a bottom and the aid you gave can never be repaid. That being said, The burden of expressing, so you can comprehend the amount of love I carry for you in my heart, in confines of such a small space is a behemoth task. However, the part you had in me becoming who I am today demands I joyfully embrace my impossible mission in a effort to repay the person I will forever owe a debt.

SISTER OF MY HEART you are more than a dear friend. Friends come and go as we grow. As we age, we come to accept people we called friends will wave goodbye and wish us luck soon after they completed their mission in that moment’s life lesson. As we progress to our life’s next destination, we are keenly aware of the added weight in our satchel from the wisdom and memories we added to it. We also know, as we trudge on, are satchel is something we could never leave behind and each day we carry the treasured possession we are stronger because of it.

SISTER OF MY HEART was established by THE MOST HIGH as my one and only constant in whom I could rely. GOD knew I would be beaten down with words and fists while being starved of verbal recognition of worth from two other broken children of his. GOD was not to blame for these evil things happening. The MOST HIGH had to choose between two options, and instead of withholding life from me, he provided me with earth-bound angles. such as you, to be put in place to make sure a child of HIS was not without hope under no circumstances.

SISTER OF MY HEART you were the one who did my hair and make-up and made me think, even if it only lasted a short time, I was pretty. You led me on youthful adventures that all young souls need to learn. When I think of family, laughing, learning, and growing you are the face I see. I know you never comprehended the important positive impact you had and have on my life. When others, who had impressive titles such as Mother, Father, Sister, and Brother failed to show me my worth shimmering back at me in their eyes when, by chance, they glanced in my direction, you showed me how I could sparkle and glow if exposed to the light and not kept hidden away in the darkness which I was made to believe was my birth right.

SISTER OF MY HEART what makes all you done for me even more a blessing is knowing you did it while yourself were suffering. I wonder why and cry over this sad fact. How could you have been so strong and confident to be there for me when I was born so weak? I hate knowing for all our long history together I was always the one taking. I pray to find some way to repay you for all the goodness you gave me then and still give me when I call upon you to tell you my woes so you can remind me GOD never gave up on me… proof being his earth-bound angle is still is answering my desperate calls.

SISTER OF MY HEART I don’t have much to offer. Consider these words just a token of my appreciation and love for the big positive impact you have had on my life.

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.

Taking the Love Outta Love

Sitting here freshly bathed
Panties not bothered to be put on

Expecting
Waiting
Praying

For some effort made from your side

Nothing
Nada
Zilch

You make it clear it will happen
But only when your ready

Touching
Stroking
Moaning

But that’s just you prepping
This, I’ve learned is my sign to be
prepared

Tension
Tears
Silence

Is all I can give with this approach
This love-making is not what we had before
yet your expectations are the same

Faceless
Nameless
receptacle

Is how your actions make me feel
Tried to use words to express how I feel
You respond with silence
The sex, I don’t miss

Comfort
Commitment
Closeness

I miss those being between us
Wish these things could be fixed

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.

Battle Cry

You evil man who plays the victim…I have a message for you.

(don’t run and hide)

Your days are numbered. This I can assure you.

For the longest time I have camped outside your Tower of Lies…denied entrance by your victims installed as guards.

I wonder what you will say when asked to account for your torture of the ones you were tasked to nurture…

Will you claim to be innocent because you were once a victim?

That excuse will not fly guy. The pain you endured will not give you asylum from the pain you inflicted.

By circumstance, I was saved from your worse. And the guilt I feel for this fuels my desire…to see you and your fortress burned up by fire.

Years have passed. You are old. We are still broken. But I can finally see you are starting to weaken.

I pray your fall allows those you now hold prisoner freedom from lies you told and they can finally see the strength, power, and beauty they posses.

Untill they are released I will remain your tormented victim.