The Pawn #poetry #chess #selfimportance

Low man on the totem pole

you only move one space

you live in anonymity

without even a face

*

strive against the elements

success is but a plan

each, every tiny move

one square against the man

*

a lonely and exhausting job

this game against the odds

work it’s cut out for you

like running with the dogs

*

digging into dirt and grime

strong footing in the dust

I think I can, I think I can

move forward is a must

*

little did the strong man know

wise pawns can achieve

when the king has lost his throne

supplanted then achieve

 

 

 

 

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Out With the Tide #poetry #abuse

no one could hear her screams for help

she was underwater

he had warned her

she would not capitulate

death was claiming her breath

the doorbell rang

“not a good time” he yelled

pounding on the door

this will have to wait

limp as seaweed she rose from the pool

other woman huffed at the entry

donning scratched sunglasses

 time to grab her purse, towel and keys

she went out …

Escaping The Vacuum #suicideprevention #lookclose #poetry

Do you know what it looks like

or how it sounds

despair is silent

suffocates, drowns

*

smug, thoughtless people

too much on their minds

close up their hearts

to the hard, undefined

*

Suicide isn’t a word, a feeling

it’s an unwelcome place

 a vacuum that sucks you

 life is displaced

*

 

 vacant and shallow

A terrible hole

only one exit sign

death rings its toll

*

emotions are fragile

frail like a bud

other times happy

this fix beyond any hug

*

outside’s a deception

“Oh, yes I’m okay”

tomorrow she’s hanging

thin string, there she sways

******

 

Do you know the signs of suicide?

“Sure, I took a class once in College”

You will only know if you ask hard questions

if you stand night time vigils

if you love without judgement

if you sacrifice your time

even then the signs are easy to covert…

 

My best friend hung herself at 20. I still ache.

Another close friend had the poison researched and set aside. One glass was all it would have taken.

My daughter almost took her life. I would beg from 3000 miles away for family, someone to help – so I got on a plane. Courage in the end saved her!!!

If you are going under for the third time, ask for help!!!

 

 

 

Why We… #women #moms #wives

There are moments in our lives

(too many to count)

the flames scorch our brow

a touch leaves a bruise

even those close

our hearts twist and use

But

 in stone there’s etched hope

with strong fingers we must choose

weak days there will be

“give up” is not in our vocabulary

 

It doesn’t matter what country I travel to I hear and see the results of abuse. Women even little girls are the fodder of all society (rich, poor, indifferent). There is no excuse yet the abuse (even subtle) continues. Don’t believe me when I tell you that an 85 year old woman has been accosted by her male neighbor. Don’t believe me when I tell you that a man of faith raped his wife for 20 years (we don’t call it rape we call it “free access”).  Don’t believe me because I am a single mom and the school just allowed my child to come to harm; I am the one  being sent to court.

These offenses continue but if you have been raped, accosted, mis-understood, lied to, over-looked, underpaid… Continue to be Strong and Hope.

 

Shared the Fright #horror #poetry

 

I glance at a wax-like stare and wonder

I don’t know you but we are the same

you are bearing the same path of sorrow

the one you traverse is etched in pain

I cry knowing that we could have been spared

our world would depend on the magician’s hand

but then there would be no real horror

only what was written by one holding a pen

I’m sorry there is not more I can say

but scribe words of the world we live / lived

I wipe away old tears hoping

that you will outlive the terror as I did

Abuse #children #atozchallenge

Scars lie deep beneath the heart

eyes have seen

ears have burned

little hands grasping for hope

beauty in rosebud lips

character comes from the ash heap

rise despite  the pain

Hope lies deep within the heart

 

 

Hello to all of you A to Zers.  I made the last minute decision to do the 2018 A to Z Challenge. Can I be an A to Z addict??? I’ll blame our dedicated founder Arlee Bird at Tossing it Out.

I have been an active blogger, but recently I have been living between two continents so Internet is not always available. Since I presently have internet,  I decided to share a favorite topic – children.

Children are a joy to teach. They teach me so much more than I teach them. In an Acholi classroom of 5-7 year olds, I was astounded at how quickly the children were learning English words. My Acholi was hit and miss. They love teaching me words and songs in their language.

Today’s topic  is a shameful and sobering way to start the challenge, but (no joke) it is a real aspect of many children’s lives. No matter how advanced our societies have become, children are the quiet sufferers of any generation.

To all of you joining A to Z challenge for the first year please enjoy the delightful people in the blogsphere!!!

art © Moondust designs 2014

 

Unidentified #poetry #abuse #photography

 

 

You, Incapable of feeling

or so it seems

I, possessed by terror

resides in dreams

cast a spell

in this heart of mine

red dripping ink

 from a living hell

you callous fiend

no friend of mine

you sacrificed

a love so fine

I turn away

write painful verse

loose the bonds

release the curse

a child once

no longer am

a whipping post

scarred face and hands

*

cold stone welcome

each day a path away from pain

freedom’s warmth

Many children, women know abuse at the hand of another. It seems that one thrives on causing pain while the other is starved for love. The one never feels and the other becomes numb to feeling. Unfortunately (for the abused) being whipped is better than being cast into the pit of “forgotten.”

It can take a lifetime to walk away; even may mean waking to the reality of cold stone.

 

The prompt this week at Poet’s United is Identity

I am Woman #survival #poetry

 

Looking up at the crack in the sidewalk

Unable to scream, I shudder

I feel the concrete about me move

“no please, not again” I mutter

I see the hand ready to strike

I brace myself like steal

I hear a board contact

There’s nothing that I feel

I look out at the falling snow

powdered sugar lightly shaken

oh to be nature pure

what hasn’t man from me taken?

I gather up my will

There are sounds beyond the mist

gentle breezes blow ahead

so many things I’ve missed

I look out at the falling snow

powdered sugar lightly shaken

wishing I could be pure

what hasn’t man from me taken?

You may not know my name

my boots trudge the well known way

“Survivor” I lay claim

with love this path is paved

 

The prompt this week at Poets United is Survival. The prompt is in recognition of Women around the world who have survived abuse, war, life…  International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women

Do you know that 70% of women have been raped? (That number is low.) I was part of a group of women writing about the atrocity of rape and how accepted it is in many cultures.  A  male friend of mine commented that it wasn’t a big deal (unless you were a virgin) when you were raped. No comment!

My title Echos a Song by Helen Reddy: I am Woman

 

 

 

 

 

Surviving It #poetry #rape

Hold it together

across change’s corridor

is its my pulse

or laughter grating between your teeth?

you’ve undressed me

what I retain of this horror

with your eyes

your mind

I’m incomplete

A barrage of feelings

assault my senses

heart barricades

streaming tears fall

my mind must now

tear down offences

looking  back

I see past it all

My senses strive

to shut out the feeling

on my knees

I realize too much

I grab my stomach

it’s already reeling

my nerves

repelling all touch

I take a deep breath

and I wont break

I look straight

past clouded eyes

no longer take blame

for your failings

take what you want

and you fail

as you fall

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sustainability

Beneath the Tree #2 #Christmas #children #abuse #poetry

No matter the age

some children anticipate

waiting and hoping

for the Christmas binge

possibilities

a luring hinge

No matter the age

some children know

the contrast between dark and light

snow angels sugary crunch

while snow demons

take what they want

No matter the age

some children experience

cold fingers grasp

tender necks flop

the prayers rise

“make this nightmare stop”

No matter the age

some children awake

Christmas day a shamble

bottles of booze clash

gifts that they stood in line for hours

hocked last night for cash

 

These days this child looks forward to Peace at Home,Good Will toward for next generation.

I decided to write a series of poems in (sad) contrast to the traditional Christmas. This is written from the insider’s vantage point.