Haiku Heights #261 - Fingerprint
my mark on the world
what fingerprint will i leave?
will anyone know?
***
i dip my fingers
what color goes with today
my fingerprint tells
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
CD: Blind Justice
Carpe Diem #237 ~ Intolerance
rulers of our world
how intolerant we are
to their blind justice
***
genocide no more
our cry of intolerance
yet it continues
Monday, July 1, 2013
CD: Fait Accomplis
Carpe Diem #236 ~ Fortitude
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| Photo Source |
intense fortitude
healing from traumatic past ~
a journey complete
Merge: Read 'Em and Weep
Write at the Merge: Week 27
This week's challenge is to use one of two prompts as inspiration for writing. I chose Katherine Hepburn's quote:
“Rules were meant to be broken.” Not how I was raised by a demanding career military officer. Adults were to be respected and obeyed without question. Breaking any house rules was bad enough; fear of death was imposed on me and my siblings for breaking rules outside the home. Perfect students. When old enough to date, so many more rules. “If you ever find yourself at the police station, don’t bother calling home.”
I did break a rule, though. When I remembered my childhood after years of amnesia, I told. Even in my forties, it took all my willpower to let him know I remembered what he did to me. Courage was defined by the number of states between us. Immediately I was declared dead to the family and disowned. My mother had to abide to the ultimatum “her or me” given by her husband. I lost all contact even though I realized I could not have contact because of the extreme dysfunction. Still, it hurt.
I had already broken the rule of seeing a therapist when my second marriage failed in the late 70s and remained in therapy on and off until I began remembering. Then intensive therapy became my full time “job”.
Come to think of it, I broke another rule. In the early 80s I had a breast reduction. I have always been the smallest anywhere in a group at any time. My oversized chest made it the focus of my being. I asked my mother when I was 19 if I could have a breast reduction. My father overheard and came at me in a rage. It’s one of the few times my mother stepped in. However, I learned just before age 30 that health insurance covered the procedure and I qualified. Such freedom.
Then I started a blog about my healing and the horror that had been my childhood and into my adulthood seeping through amnesia. Each time I posted, I was sure I would be killed for “telling”. That had been so ingrained into my being.
Finally I can say I am healed and whatever had been rules made by others in my life that were meant to keep me from being a healed, relaxed, joyful person were tossed aside and I made me own rules. Keep what fits and discard the rest.
Breaking the rules is how we discover who we really are or can be, in my experience. I wish my life had been different but am thankful to be here now writing and sharing fearlessly. For me, the act of writing is brave…I mean for everyone. To speak what is truly on one’s mind is to forget anyone’s rules and tell it like it is.
Words: 454
HMH: Heroes All
Haiku My Heart ~ Heroes All
In honor of the 19 of the 20 elite firefighters who lost their lives battling Arizona forest fires yesterday.
with steadfast courage
battling blazes to save lives
they fell as heroes
MWM: "Sacred Made Real"
Mornings With Mary
In 2010, I saw an amazing sculpture exhibit at the National Museum of Art in Washington, DC. It was called "The Sacred Made Real: Spanish Painting and Sculpture, 1600-1700." The artist was Juan Martínez Montañés. I was so in awe of the detail. They were so lifelike.
 | ||
| Photo Source gazing at mary ~ only the glass between us tells me she's not real |
I have to guess that this is Mary holding Jesus after the crucifixion. Wanted to share how extraordinary the details were of these sculptures. Mary Magdalene is to the left holding a cross.
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| Photo Source |
two marys comfort
pray for mercy for his pain
pray for mercy for his pain
each a cross to bear
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| Photo Source beautiful mary you bless our lives with your grace hope for the hopeless |
Sunday, June 30, 2013
CD: Futility
Carpe Diem #235 - Otiosity
when is life futile?
does hope ever flicker out?
how long should we wait?
***
captive in my mind
without knowing for decades
how futile my life
Saturday, June 29, 2013
HH: Pyrotechnics
Haiku Heights #260 ~ Firefly
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| Photo Source |
synchronized fireflies
sunset pyrotechnics show
unending pleasure
dVerse: Cinderella, R.I.P.
dVerse: Poetics ~ It Started With A Mouse
Write a poem/prose using at least one Disney character.
Cinderella, R.I.P.
life was not as said to be
no happily ever afters happened
though several husbands had me maddened
So many times I tried to change
my perspective of life not so deranged
and finally it came to be
I found a life ~ a fait accomplis
Little girls still love their princes
Many learn to kiss the toads
I do hope with all my heart
their lives do more smoothly go
Friday, June 28, 2013
Not My Depression
if depression talked
it would not want you to know
how painful it is
This is not depression talking. It's me talking about my depression. Everything changed mid-May. All was calm internally and externally. I returned home feeling relaxed, different, joyful. Finally, life where it feels like living instead of existing.
A few weeks later, intermittent days of depression of unknown source. I doubted dates of the past would still impact me subconsciously. I didn't rule it out but went along recognizing I felt sad, although it was manageable. No pit to fall into...or to climb out.
Several days of continuous depression and my mind is scanning every possibility. It's been just over two years since my antidepressant switch. I had been advised I need to switch every 18-24 months. That has to be it. I called my psychiatrist and got his permission to lower my current dose until I see him in two weeks, at which time he will start me back on my former antidepressant. In the back of my mind I hear the warning that not all people are able to go back on the same medication. It had been the only one that had ever worked so now I'm praying my body accepts it.
Hours after the phone call to the psychiatrist, I'm napping restlessly writing suicide notes in my mind. I got up and showered. All clean and refreshed except the depression is painful. I want it to stop...now.
I woke up from my lifelong amnesia at age 44 and fully healed at age 60. Integrated. No more fragmented parts of me. Perhaps it changed my body chemistry. More than likely, the integrated me is not the same age as the body and is hating finally being free but trapped in an aging body with back and knee pain from arthritis along with constant sinus pain. Incurable sinuses from decades of abuse to my sinus cavities which I will not explain further except that I was used...not for experiments. I was used in ways known to work. But it still meant doing things to my body that most people don't have to bear or can even conceive.
Physical pain is not bearable. Dealing with it is causing emotional pain. I thought the healing meant no more constant battles with wanting to be alive. It barely lasted a month. Almost six weeks actually. It was a good few weeks since integration. I was happy. Joy and calm. Sad was doable.
I do not wish to live with this depression battle any longer. I don't have that fight any longer. I won't start on the former antidepressant for about two weeks and then it may take another month for the meds to kick in so I don't feel this way. Can I manage that long? I've lived a pretty good life since 2006 when I moved into my own home. Last year the man I've loved for 12 years became my husband. I can be at peace with death.
life is not living
healed should not be this painful
some entered my life
and made me laugh and feel good
they knew and loved me anyway
Thank you for being in the part of my life that was me making conscious choices and wanting to write and share and be silly. And love. If I leave this world before my intended time, know I was ever so grateful to all who touched my heart.
it would not want you to know
how painful it is
This is not depression talking. It's me talking about my depression. Everything changed mid-May. All was calm internally and externally. I returned home feeling relaxed, different, joyful. Finally, life where it feels like living instead of existing.
A few weeks later, intermittent days of depression of unknown source. I doubted dates of the past would still impact me subconsciously. I didn't rule it out but went along recognizing I felt sad, although it was manageable. No pit to fall into...or to climb out.
Several days of continuous depression and my mind is scanning every possibility. It's been just over two years since my antidepressant switch. I had been advised I need to switch every 18-24 months. That has to be it. I called my psychiatrist and got his permission to lower my current dose until I see him in two weeks, at which time he will start me back on my former antidepressant. In the back of my mind I hear the warning that not all people are able to go back on the same medication. It had been the only one that had ever worked so now I'm praying my body accepts it.
Hours after the phone call to the psychiatrist, I'm napping restlessly writing suicide notes in my mind. I got up and showered. All clean and refreshed except the depression is painful. I want it to stop...now.
I woke up from my lifelong amnesia at age 44 and fully healed at age 60. Integrated. No more fragmented parts of me. Perhaps it changed my body chemistry. More than likely, the integrated me is not the same age as the body and is hating finally being free but trapped in an aging body with back and knee pain from arthritis along with constant sinus pain. Incurable sinuses from decades of abuse to my sinus cavities which I will not explain further except that I was used...not for experiments. I was used in ways known to work. But it still meant doing things to my body that most people don't have to bear or can even conceive.
Physical pain is not bearable. Dealing with it is causing emotional pain. I thought the healing meant no more constant battles with wanting to be alive. It barely lasted a month. Almost six weeks actually. It was a good few weeks since integration. I was happy. Joy and calm. Sad was doable.
I do not wish to live with this depression battle any longer. I don't have that fight any longer. I won't start on the former antidepressant for about two weeks and then it may take another month for the meds to kick in so I don't feel this way. Can I manage that long? I've lived a pretty good life since 2006 when I moved into my own home. Last year the man I've loved for 12 years became my husband. I can be at peace with death.
life is not living
healed should not be this painful
some entered my life
and made me laugh and feel good
they knew and loved me anyway
Thank you for being in the part of my life that was me making conscious choices and wanting to write and share and be silly. And love. If I leave this world before my intended time, know I was ever so grateful to all who touched my heart.
HMH: Nature's Miracles
Haiku My Heart
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| Photo by Grace Beam |
my heart aflutter
amidst nature's miracles
this wonder called life
Trifextra: Do No Harm
Trifextra: Week Seventy-Four
Trifextra: Week Seventy-Four
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| Photo Source |
Three things about humanity are important. The first is do no harm. The second is do no harm. The third is do no harm.
CD: 'Deeper Darkness'
Carpe Diem's Tan Renga Challenge #4
The first three lines are Björn Rudberg's beautiful haiku. For this challenge, I am to write 2 more lines of 7 syllables each.
after fireworks
the silence is clearer
darkness is deeper
my attempt:
the silence is clearer
darkness is deeper
my attempt:
the only sound my breathing
my only light the moonbeams
Thursday, June 27, 2013
CD: Kikusha-Ni's "The Dusk in Rain"
Carpe Diem #44
Compose a haiku with same feeling and tone as this haiku:
my body all alone
in this autumn I feel -
the dusk in rain
(c) Kikusha-Ni
dVerse: No Child
dVerse: Listen To This Anaphora
Write a poem using anaphora (a repetitive word or phrase).
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| Polyvore by Grace Beam |
born into hell
born into hands of evil
born into a netherworld
where no child should ever be
born into greed
born into porn
born into torture
what no child should ever see
born into destiny
not of my choice
born into actions
without option of voice
born into fear
but as adult i heal
born to die young
but at that they did fail
FSF: Why Bother?
Five Sentence Fiction: View
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| Polyvore by Grace Beam |
We're born and then we die. What's the point in living? At least that was her view of life. Why bother if it's all for naught anyway? Then she remembered the words she'd heard so long ago: "Don't check out five minutes before the miracle happens."
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Trifecta: What Now?
Trifecta: Week Eighty-Three
Write between 33 and 333 words using the word "rusty" with the following definition: a) of the color rust; b) dulled in color or appearance by age and use
3a : of the color rust
- See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/2013/06/trifecta-week-eighty-three.html#sthash.2QxMqEIv.dpuf
- See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/2013/06/trifecta-week-eighty-three.html#sthash.2QxMqEIv.dpuf
3a : of the color rust
- See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/2013/06/trifecta-week-eighty-three.html#sthash.2QxMqEIv.dpuf
- See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/2013/06/trifecta-week-eighty-three.html#sthash.2QxMqEIv.dpuf
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| Photo Source |
Jacob was livid being trapped in a windowless room with two strong guards outside the one door. He had only hammered one nail into the body’s foot. The nail was just the beginning, but he was dragged from behind and thrown into solitary confinement.
Jody slowly became aware she was at the emergency room. She focused on the moving lips of the nurse who was speaking to her but sound hadn’t kicked in yet. What now she wondered.
“Do you understand?” asked the nurse.
“Ummm. I’m sorry. I must have zoned out. Can you repeat what you said?”
“How much did you miss?" she asked clearly annoyed.
“All of it?” Jody cringed. She hated when she came in on the middle of something. “Why am I here?”
After a big sigh, the nurse began again speaking loudly and slowly.
“I can hear just fine. I just missed it.” How she hated explaining herself. Was there any way she could avoid saying the dreaded words this time? It was then she felt the pain in her left foot. She nearly passed out when she saw the doctor stitching it up. “What happened?” she shouted in a near panic.
The doctor waved the nurse away seeing her lack of patience and began to speak calmly. “Somehow you drove yourself here and walked in with a rusty nail sticking out of the top of your foot. You are very lucky it missed a major artery. We gave you a tetanus shot. But we still don’t know how you managed to get a nail in the top of your foot. You must have been in shock all this time.”
Jody scanned her mind to find what she last remembered. She was angry at work at her condescending boss after she had just completed the project on time and under budget. She didn’t remember driving home. Melanie must have driven her. But she knew Jacob had driven the nail into her foot. Having multiple personalities sucked.
Words: 331
CD: Half Year's End Festival (Nagoshi)
Carpe Diem #231
end of hot summer
longer nights ~ cooler air
sweet welcome of fall
***
assess your chosen life path
is this the right road?
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