Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Voice of Pain

I pay attention to
The screamers
The loud
Demanding-to-be-heard
People
With tears in their eyes.

I handle my pain differently
More quiet
Introspective.

All in all, dear one
Pain is pain
Hearts
Crying
And it's always a shame.

Disbanded Sisterhood

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
One would think
We'd stick together
Raise each other up
During the highs & lows
But that is not always the case
Only a very few
Hold the sisterhood
To heart.
 
The others
Can be so
Criticizing
Looking for blame
In the heart of
Sweet laughter
Esteem so low
No sense of self.


Monday, October 28, 2013

Tango of Thought

I'm not a man-hater
But I do find myself
Cringing under the
Thoughtful
Male
Glance

Defensive
Pensive
Drawing into myself
Internally backing away
Not out of fear
More of a guarded thing

When the glance
Becomes more
I dance a
Tango
Circling around
Quietly musing
Asking the question
What could this
Possibly be?

Heaven in Room 521

He held him 10 minutes
The day our son was born
Then left like a vanishing wind.

4 blessed days
3 blessed nights
Alone with my
Precious one
World outside quieted
World inside slowed
Infant son & mother
Alone
In our snow globe.

Delicious, renewing sleep
Watched as nurses
Pampered & fluffed
Listened & watched
In awe
To his breathing
Peaceful sleeping
Inquisitive new eyes seeking.

I had no idea when
The storm would begin
Surely, I knew it would arrive
Sooner
Rather than later
But for those precious days
I was in a peaceful haze
In a hospital with my new son
Heaven
In room 521.

Saturday, October 26, 2013

Choices

I learned the
Fine art of
Silence
Probably at an early
Young age
Criticizing tones
Harsh voices
I lived in a
House of love
I just didn't always
Agree with their
Choices.

Night Terrors

During the day
I could pretend
Paint on a smile

It was the night
The dark, deep night
That gripped me
Ripped me

I would fall asleep
Soon it would happen
Night terrors

Running
Caught in places
I should never be
Hearing razor-sharp voices
Taunting me

Days and nights
Quickly becoming a blur
Begging for rest
Blessed sleep
Peace from  the
Nightmare that
Was always
2 steps
Behind me.

Preparing to Fly

In the middle of
The worst part
Of the harshest storm
Pregnant
Motherly instinct
Evident
My voice remained calm
For even in the womb
He could hear me
I'd steal away
To the quietest
Of places
Talk to him real slow

"Mommy's going  to
make  everything all right.
Right now, my sweet,
sleep tight."

His kicks inside me
Would gently slow
I felt him relax
As I hummed a lullaby
Soft
And low.







Domestic Survivor

There was no handbook
No grand word of advice
Thrown into the judicial mix
Left to my own device.

"You're 1 in 500 in this
county alone.  Chances are
you'll go back.  Studies
have shown."

True though it may be
I was numb
I cringed at the slap
The implication of
Being dumb
I did not originally set out
To make a point
Yet I sit here today
Reliving a tale
To anoint
There are others out there
With tales more haunting
Not just me
Our voices  will rise up
We will be heard
The abuse will stop
You'll see.

Screams in the Dark

That night
Went by in
Slowest of
Slow motion
Time enough
For me to think
As night crowded in
Cold
Dark
Dank
Fist planted firmly
On my chin
Time stopped
My screams did not
There was no plan
Only thoughts of immediate escape
Gathered up my
Infant son
Into that cold, dark night
We would run
My mother greeted me
Her eyes beseeching me
Into the car I fell
She did not ask
I did not tell
Eyes red-rimmed
Face ashen gray
My eyes told a story
My voice could not say.


If I Told You...

If I told you I was
Married twice
You'd be shocked
Then again
Maybe not
The first ended
In his suicide
The second started
My long and
Painful ride
Abusive words
Abusive hands
On my spirit
Engraving
I thought he was
A soul
Worth saving
Twas not my job
The rest I put
In the
Hands of God.

Gatekeeper's Daughter

Penny for your thoughts
Nickel for your time
If you want to enter here
You'll have to pay a dime
She's sleeping now
Miss needs her rest
Walk softly
No time to jest
If your intentions are true
A map you will not need
Tame a wild heart?
Your footsteps will thunder
Take heed
Restless is her sleep
She's almost awake
You might get lost trying to find her
It's a gamble only you can make
Rich in spirit
Power in mind
The only tools you will need
Whisper into her soul
Make that your good deed
Waste no time
Do not loiter
She's seen that kind before
She is the Gatekeeper's daughter.


Fire Within

She was 20
Going on 43
She wanted to escape
Feeling free
She gave her heart
Shut down her mind
At the risk of a love
She may never find
Her soul now trapped
Passion tamed
He offered the escape
He could not be blamed
Trap now set
No path for her feet to be met
But the fire burned
Dreams they flashed
As words & hearts
Tangled & clashed
Planning
Waiting
She'd become the student
Lesson learned
She left on a strange cold night in July
Taking with her the last match
To light her own  fire
To clear the weeds
And plant the seeds
To climb the mountain that
No longer appeared to high.


Unveiling

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
These words  are my diary
 
Exposed to you
 
My written word
 
Void of masquerade
 
The only place my subconscious mind and
 
Conscious mind agree
 
Not to hide.
 
 


SHE

SHE
Whisked out of the court room .  Bright, silky turban splashing color in the cold marble room.  A smile was on her face.  Neither boastful nor conceited.  A smile that said, "If I were to die today, what a good day to die." A lawyer.  A warrior.  Battling cancer.  Offering her services free of charge.  Protecting the abused from their abuser.

SHE
Wrapped in tattoo art; flouncing her proverbial tomahawk in a room of silent onlookers.  Young.  Brash.  My mind could not help to think "That's why he chose her.  To break her strong spirit."  But she was so young.  Couldn't have been more than 19.  Oh, then she spoke.  Voice cracking as she cried.  A sweet, songbird voice "I just need this to be over.  I want him to stay away from me."

SHE
Sitting on the court room bench.  Arguing with her mother.  A mother fighting to understand yet begging her young daughter to lower her voice and "calm down."  She did.  Lower her voice.  To a husky growl.  Calm down, she did not.  Looked to be about 16.  Definitely the youngest I have personally seen.  Her demeanor was poignant.  There was no doubt in my mind she would be ok.  She brought her own law to the court room.

SHE
Soaked all of this in on that day.  As she waited for her judge to appoint his decision.  3 years into this battle.  I imagine she could invite her judge over for Thanksgiving dinner.  Such is the respect her judge tirelessly awards her.  She talks about it now like it's some other person's story.  I don't know.  Maybe it's just easier that way.  Having left her abuser, she fights tirelessly for the safety of her precious son.  This last "SHE" is me.  Committed to building awareness on intolerable violence.