I Am Bipolar

I was chosen to be a warrior

Answered the call knowing
My survival is my only reward

Bruised battered but never beaten by the Beast
In need for retreat from time to time because
Pleasure and Pain is often felt in excess
Only time I fear my demise is when both meet
Laughing at the havoc the bring to the one battling.
Amount of agony felt requires a call for reinforcements
Relief is great when they carry me off the battlefield…and I get my only reward for being a chosen warrior.

 

Children are often chosen to be warriors as well. Here is a link to another Blog with a poem about this and further informationhttp://writingsofamrs.wordpress.com/2013/05/07/butterfly-box/

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Reality

Boys girls playing in the park

Fun had for no cost

Going home before gets dark

Soon off to bed flossed

 

Boys girls told it’s time debark

Into the world tossed

Soon know park was a hallmark

Feel sad childhood lost

 

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Want to share another 7/5 Trochee Poem from a fellow very talented blogger.

Billie ♥

http://wrestling-life.com/2013/05/09/75-trochee-loves-hues/

Mud (Lanturne)

mud

between

toes of feet

recall youthfull

games

Buttons and Bows (Diamante)

Bows

Pretty, Plenty

Primping, Swaying, Matching

Colorful, Girly, Useful, Concealing

Fastening, Frustrating, Popping

Needed, Replaced

Buttons

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.

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.

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. 

A Common Yellow Flower

I saw a young girl pick a flower.

Eyes filled with wonder, seeing all the beauty around her.

The wind, being mean, lifted her dress.

Youth, with all its wisdom, shielded her from shame.

 

To me, all the flowers looked the same.

However her attention was focused on her great find.

What special attributes did that one hold to posses her undivided love?

My heart broke realizing my jaded aged eyes were blind.

 

Little flying insects flew all around.

Going from one flower to another.

The little girl took no head of the options before her.

All the while, little pests went from one flower to the next.

 

Mother Nature was orchestrating a fantastic show.

Sun shining; wind blowing; grass swaying

The girl gently tickled her nose.

Swaying back and forth with the partner she chose.