To my watches
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Posted:Mar 24, 2011 4:39 am
Last Updated:May 28, 2024 6:50 am
8525 Views
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Once you used to leave comments about my efforts.
When you write, you do so for many reasons, mine are mainly cathartic or to relive both beautiful memories and hurtful ones, but also to finally let it go and move on.
When you do nit comment either good or bad, then I do not know if my writing style is improving or not.
Yes a lot of my writings are dark and not uplifting, but it is honest and from my heart and sometimes even my soul.
Presently their are words forming in my brain but are nit ready to escape to the screen, hopefully they will be set free soon
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Fantasy of Wuinning Lotto --- What woud I do
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Posted:Mar 14, 2011 7:18 am
Last Updated:May 28, 2024 6:50 am
8567 Views
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Friday morning saw her in the newsagent waiting to see if she had won... as normal they would say not this time luv, better luck next time... do you want a ticket for next week, and she would reply yes please just a small one thank you.
She handed her ticket for it to be passed through the machine, she was day dreaming and watching the people rushing past....
Oh my God!!!!!, Oh my God!!!!!!, which one, which customer gave you this ticket... That’s her, the one in the wheel chair... My attention was pulled back; the staff were all babbling and staring at me.
Excuse me, but you come with me please, she felt sick to her stomach, what was wrong, had she accidently taken something and forgotten to pay. She had done that once. She was about to get into the taxi when she noticed the two bottles of milk at her feet... she told the taxi driver to finish loading her groceries into the taxi and she rushed back to Woolworths to pay for the milk. Expecting any minute to feel a hand on her shoulder arresting her, her brain working frantically trying to go over what she had bought.
She arrived at the office and she was told to wait a minute, the woman who was the manager of the Shopping complex came out with a huge grin on her face. Oh congratulations she gushed kissing her on both cheeks...I am so happy for you, what are you going to do with 20million dollars.
Her first thought, what the hell is going on its not April fool’s day, why are they playing this joke on her. Did you hear me; you have won Thursdays’ Powerball the whole $20 million. Her heart started pounding in her ears and she heard herself ask for a glass of water. Slowly it started t sink in... She started she did not know if it was out loud or to herself...Thank you Mother Mary, Saint Mary, all my angels... Oh Lordy she had gone from being on the brink of homelessness to a millionaire.
Shaking like a leaf, she spoke to the Powerball office in Brisbane and arranged a time for the limo to pick her up and take her to their offices to sign for and receive the cheque. She just wanted to go home, go home and get into her bed and let it sink in.
Her , she would give her 2 Million, her family she would pay off their mortgages and set up a trust fund for her two nieces and grand niece and nephew. She would give 1.5million to the battered wives shelter, setting it up so that women when they were ready to leave the shelter would have $5000 to start again.
She would get her home back; she would offer the people who bought it an extra $100,000 to get it back, her beloved home.
She got up and went and made herself a cup of tea, her favourite Russian Caravan by twinnings. Sipping her tea, her mind buzzed with other things she wanted to do, buy three more properties, and one in Canada, most probably in Victoria or Quebec City. Renovate her home, making it a two story with her bedroom enlarged on the ground floor and a swimming pool put in.
She could travel again, visiting her favourite countries. Then it came to her, she could help her friends; A large cottage with a beautiful garden in that Scottish fishing village in Scotland;
Money to help a friend to start his own high tech company;
Another friend a home of her own, in her name in case the marriage she was trying to save went bust;
Her friend who had lost his home, see if he wanted it back or a new house to bring his new lady to start a new life after so many years of unhappiness;
Then there was her special friend who had transplanted himself to the other side of the USA, She would love to become his silent partner buy him a business where he could use his artistic talents with a little luck, hopefully a flat above the shop would be part of the deal.
She started laughing, would her friends let her do this, her friends were proud people, would they feel like she was giving them charity... she began to frown... how could she do it... how could it be done where their pride would be intact. That was the question, she must tread very carefully.
She fell asleep, in her dreams she saw herself cruising the Mediterrean on a beautiful boat in a balcony state room suite, visiting Roma, Frenzi, Venuzzia, Capri, Sicily, onto Greece and her favourite islands as well as the mainland of Greece
Oh yes Morocco, Spain, Portugal, Egypt sailing down the Nile, staying in Aswan at the beautiful old Hotel she had stayed in previously....
Japan, Taiwan, China, Korea... so many places, Oh and she must return to Africa and the orphanages she had worked in and the refugee camps and give donations to buy medicines, equipment, beds, food, so many things that we take for granted but to many are rare to have.
She got up and had a cooling shower, made herself a Salmon (out of a tin) salad, watched a little Television. Yawning she took herself off to bed and slept again a smile on her face, she would sort out what she had to do tomorrow.
Tomorrow she would ring her and her cousin and let them know... but would she tell them how much.... maybe not.... no she would not tell anyone except her bank manager and her investment counsellor and of course the Tax man....just how much she had won... maybe her family should not be told it was her doing the giving... maybe it should be anonymous so much better, yes that is how she would do it. She would takes things slowly and not flaunt her new wealth... she did not want all the new best friends and n on heard of friends beating a trail to her door for a handout or to bus a lost diamond mine, finance a sure fire invention...Dam no she would not wish that on her worst enemy... Much thought would have to go into what she was going to do with the windfall.
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Thoughts and Rambles
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Posted:Mar 11, 2011 7:38 am
Last Updated:Mar 16, 2011 7:48 am
8917 Views
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Over the past three months I have seen my ordered world collapse around me.
Relatives I cared for and had always helped in the past, saving homes from foreclosure, businesses from Bankruptcy and Paying for University degrees.
Thinking that the younger generation would flourish and be abe to help others in our extended family lead productive and happy lives.
Helping them to grow and expand by helping pay for back packing holidays to overseas countries. I was happy to be a part of this my extended family.As a wee bairn of six months I was adopted by two remarkable people.
I do not mean they were famous, or extremely rich, they were ordinary midde class people who would by hard work become very well off. No they were remarkable because of the love and nurturing they gave both my sister and I, always telling us how special we were, how loved.
They were part of the glue along with my grandmother that kept the family together when I was a and during my teenage years.
So many happy memories of weekends spent at Kurnell or Cronulla having barbe ques and swimming parties. My sister and I were privileged to help my father with his wonderful Christmas events.
Somewhere along the way however, I forgot my fathers teachings, and advice, about money, family and friends...If you lend money, make sure you have a written confirmation of the loan and make sure you get the money back. Not always in a luymo sum and not always quickly. You must always leave them their dignity and the ability to pay you without leaving them in hardship and resentful.
Never just give the money, if you do it somehow demeans then and they think they can use you whenever they want.Sometimes they come to resent you as they feel like they are living in handouts, it does not stop them from asking for the money but it makes them weak in some ways It stops them from learning to stand on their own two feet or work out how to get through tough times when their is a family member they can get money from if trouble.
Now I am no longer married to a wealthy man, nor work financially I could no longer get them out of trouble. When I found myself in dire straits I naturally went to them to ask for help.
I was furious, hurt and shattered when they either said no or would not answer my telephone calls or return messages. Whenmyn Aunt and my cousin did not offer and when I asked for a place to stay for a couple oi weeks said no...
How could they do that to me, didn't I help them, didn't my mother and I stand up to my grandfather when he wanted to change his Will and disinherit them.. how could they repay me this way.
Well why not, did they really owe me anything, yes over the years when my uncle could not work due to illness my mother would take them grocery's and leave an envelope with Mooney in it.
Now I look back, it must has been so soul destroying to have to take handouts, to be made to feel inferior, though we had not realised that was what we were doing.
So the last several months have been a learning curve for me, By my so called generosity I had amde them into the people they are. No better and no worse than others, scared in these times of stock crashes, job losses not only in the blue ciklkar sector but the white as well. High flayer's reduced to mowing lawns as a way to survive and feed their families.
Besides, my decisions led me to the predicament I found myself in, no matter it had started with trying to help out a close friend... they were my decisions I chose my path.
I never truly understood what they meant when they said you have to reach rock bottom before you learned how to live. Now I know and understand.
So now I begin again, I have been blessed with a brain and abilities that will gain me employment, it will no longer be senior management nor full time, but I will work and bring in money to supplement my disability pension. Once more I will respect and like myself, and slowly rebuild if it is my destiny friendships that have shattered or cracked along the way.
I will also follow the old adage, never a borrower or lender be... what I cannot afford I will go without till I can afford it..
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Finding her faith
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Posted:Mar 10, 2011 11:01 pm
Last Updated:May 28, 2024 6:50 am
8494 Views
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Finding her Faith
She was always saying I will pray for you! You are in my prayers, And she did do that, each night and in the early morning hours she lit the candle in her circle of Angels
All her life she had tried to do the right thing It did not always work out as she had wished But it did not really get to her she just brushed it off After all she said her prayers; she was a good person, It wasn’t her fault if things went wrong.
When she lost three of her precious In a horrific car accident; she was not driving, It wasn’t her fault though her husband said it was.
She went inside herself into a make believe world. She; god help her, truly believed they were still alive. The boys were away at Boarding school, her away on holidays or the were visiting their grandparents. Anything so she did not have to face the truth the reality they were dead
On a warm night with rain falling heavily and lightening hitting the earth she sat in an antiseptic hospital room holding her Eyshia s’ hand the wee bairn was dying from Leukemia….
She sat at her babies side listening holding that So tiny fragile hand, She did not notice when they turned off the life support machines and the room was deathly quiet none of this did she notice.
She is gone said the doctor as gently as he could. Knowing how fragile her mental health, but still She sat there holding the beloved hand, telling her all The things they were going to do when she was better.
Finally she was taken from the room under sedation She listened to her husband’s cruel words as he Screamed at her, but her dead eyes saw nothing Her ears did not hear.
She had refused to go to the cemetery, her Were alive.. But this day reality came crashing down Upon her. There in front of her were ’s’ headstones. Her brother-in-Law tried to catch her as she crumpled, and fell to the ground in a dead faint
It took many months in a private facility and intense therapy, to bring her back to this world. Part of the therapy consisted of admitting to and Finally tell the truth about her babies. Her remaining her eldest helping her….
But still she skirted around her faith, still saying I will pray for you, please if I can help you, let me Please do not think badly of her, in her way she Believed what she was saying, she really did want To try and help her friends, but not let anyone touch her where it really counted… but looking back I do not think she realized that
Events over took her and she found herself on the streets. Deserted she thought by her relatives and friends Two proud and ashamed to tell her Just how bad it was and that she was homeless
Then the final thing, the incident that finally broke her. She had fought illness and chronic pain for almost three years; she had taken on her Mortgage company Standing up to their underhanded and bullying tactics; The death of her closest friend, when he committed sucide.He could not face life after his mercy killing of his terminally ill wife; The death of four friends from a similar illness as hers.
However, when she lost the friendship of someone she loved deeply, they thought she had lied to them andthey turned away. That nightshe felt her heart shatter into a million shards, she cried uncontrollably.
She lit the candle within her Angel circle, but This time it was different. Trying to talk through her tears she put herself in Gods’ hands and told him whatever happened in the future. She would accept, no longer would she question, no longer would she blame others for her mistakes. That night she refound her faith of her childhood
She slept that night for the first time in months She slept the whole night almost 12 hours The first thing she did was light the candle and pray When she had had a cup of tea she started sorting out her things when she felt something in the lining of her handbag. It was the tiny Star of David and gold chain she had been given by her Great grandmother and her friend who lived in Istanbul on her last visit. She broke down and wept really wept; when finally she stopped she was exhausted and fell asleep again.
The next day when she returned to her friends’ garage there was a message waiting for her to ring her Real Estate agent. With trembling fingers she dialed the number. Her face lit up as the words Emily was saying sunk in; tears rolled silently down her face.
Her house was sold, and the mortgage company was accepting the buyers bid. Emily explained she was handling the sale of my property not the mortgage company. The Banking ombudsman had threatened to look more closely at the breaking by them of the original contract. A private conveyancing company had been retained to handle the sale and not the legal firm attached to the mortgage company. She would get the proceeds left over after the mortgage and fees of the agent were taken out.
After she got off the phone she rushed to her angels and gave thanks to Mother Mary, Saint Mary McKillop and God for their kindness to her, the relief of having a roof over her head once more.
She promised she would try and live up to their expectations of her, to live a life where she really did help people and be there for her friends. She asked them to understand, sometimes she would falter, trip and make mistakes but she would get up dust herself off and try again.
She also promised herself no matter how long it took her would earn back her friendship with the one she cared for so deeply…. She now knew her renewed faith and her knowledge that heaven did not judge her or hate her, but understood her fragilities and loved her still, would give her the strength to face anything that came her way.
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Throw Away Society
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Posted:Feb 19, 2011 10:32 pm
Last Updated:Mar 3, 2011 5:14 pm
8572 Views
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Throw Away Society
She sits slowly rocking in her favorite chair The rocker is old, it needs, a lick of white Glossy paint that would enhance its beauty, The woven cane on the arms of the chair need repair, Yet she does not see it she loves it still As she rocks a soft creaking sound Echoes up and down the length of the verandah Adding its contribution to the cacophony of sounds, That are, the symphony of the night.
The distant sound of a braying at the moon, A cricket playing its legs violin, a male bull frog Croaking out its mating call trying to impress attract That enchanting female sitting on the edge of the fish pond Far off cars their engines humming, their horns blaring The whine of an ambulance siren speeding down the highway
Still she rocks; her eyes closed sipping slowly quietly On the aromatic Ginger tea given to her By a friend slash student; a reminder of her lingering Though, she now sleeps in her native land. Her nightie cool cotton allowing her body to breathe,
The soft balmy night with its gentle cooling breeze A relief after the cloyingly, muggy, humid day, So hot was the day, that a cold shower Cascading down onto her body, evaporated, Adding to the steamy humidity of the day
Looking down on her she is alone, but; That is far from the truth; she is surrounded; Surrounded by people, places and events From her memories, some sweet loving ones Dancing and singing around her Others painful bringing tears and a hint of fear Sometimes remorse to her eyes, But all of them in their own way comforting, necessary To the whole, to the person she has become over the years
She remembers a time when she sat between Her uncle and her grandfather as they mended a toaster, The element of an electric jug or much cherished, worn leather Chair that, under their loving attention, Would see use for years to come
Her grandfather and uncle born into a world, A far different one from to-day s’ A time that appreciated, respected and loved and Cared for their possessions, Having lived through one of the worst worldwide Depressions, within living memory, together With two life destroying World Wars, Filled with brutality; betrayal; Crimes against humanity, Not witnessed since the Mongol Hordes swept across the known world.
They knew hardship, they knew having experienced The gnawing hunger of no or little food in their stomachs The terrifying rise of the sun on a battlefield The stink of fear and death surrounding them As they lay soaked in their sweat in far off lands
They belonged to the age of holding onto and repairing Possessions, material things and the other More important intangible things that shape our lives Love, marriage, family and friendship, the essential Weavings that make up our life on this earth.
She on the other hand was born on the cusp…. The changing philosophy that now shapes our world. Toasters, washing machines, Televisions, computers, cars The list is endless of “things” no longer built to last… Now built to work for a short time Maybe a year maybe two; maybe longer maybe shorter Then to be thrown out on to a scrap heap, so a newer, Shinier whiz bang new toy could be purchased.
Unfortunately, in this New brave world material things Are not the only things we carelessly throw away? Whether it is fear of intimacy, of allowing another human Being into their heart, under their guard… Working on a marriage when it gets tough And the hard times come; hands are thrown in the air Angry words are spoken and the sun sets Without those three so very important words are spoken I am sorry…. And the equally important word, p Lease let us try again.
, whose innocence sometimes ripped from them, Both parent and locked in constant battle Misread or misunderstood signals, neither side able To admit they made mistakes till it is too late, too late to shed Tears of joy, love, forgiveness, hope a safe haven A repaired heart and soul Sometimes; the worst of all; betrayal and The battering of their young fragile bodies, innocent trust, shattering Soul and at times sanity
All these things she had over the years, Experienced, lived and yes survived. A heartfelt sighs rises from deep within her. Her eyes closed she leans back on the soft cushion Has she two become one of the throwaway society?
Tears seep from under her eye lids, She lets them fall unheeded down her cheeks How did she get here, what had she done? To deserve what was happening to her, why her Then her backbone kicked in…. Why not her She had already admitted to others where she now found herself Was of her own doing… but till just now she had not really Believed she was truly to blame and not the others No she was the one who had made the decisions
Whether they had been made to help for a friend in trouble, Through misinformation, stubbiness against change, or Sheer stupidity it didn’t matter she had to own they Were her decisions, and she now must wear the consequences. Some she could not change they were now beyond her control But others, her friendships, her caring of friends, acquaintances And family, she still had the ability to change her fate…. She could still rectify, understand and accept Circumstances do not always stay the same She fully believes, sometimes in life We are given tests, or offered lessons to help us To redefine us, make us better people, Well hopefully better human beings who have grown Both spiritually and mentally
She had finished her tea some time ago And placed the empty mug on the table beside her. Her decisions made, her faith renewed, Her prayers answered maybe not in the way She had hoped; but still answered, She finally sank into a deep and healing sleep
There would be enough time in the coming days To set the decisions into action, but for now she slept, Now she repaired and healed her body, her mind. Now she rested getting ready for the coming days Of renewed fights, searching, and justice, Yes she would continue to fight she had to, Her parents had not been reared to be a quitter A gutless wonder no she had to keep striving For her material and health safety; her friendships- Those friendships that brought her so much joy And sometimes frustration, annoyance, disappointment But overall so much love and affection, made her life so beautiful and worthwhile,
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Where do we draw the line....Love....Hate
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Posted:Jan 8, 2011 5:44 am
Last Updated:May 28, 2024 6:50 am
8866 Views
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Love Hate
What is Love? What is Hate? Some say that the both are interwoven That one cannot live without the two in our lives Like positive and negative – Day night – good bad How many crimes have been committed in the name of love? How many cruelties and wars have been sparked by hatred?
In some science fiction shows they features beings who have Learned how to take emotions all away But those beings are always depicted as drab and almost lifeless Sublimely reinforcing emotion is necessary for our psyche
I have watched as friendships have started, grown Blossomed i into deep affection Sadly I have also seen those same flourishing friendships Turn to hatred Our hearts cannot dictate who we do and do not love So because one loved as a friend and one as a lover Why does it turn to hatred? Why do we need to hurt and belittle that friendship? Because we do not get our way Why does an act of love that hurt to carry out Cause so much pain and bitterness
Why do men of such character and compassion Suddenly turn into something that cannot be recognized Why does the pain make us do stupid things? Go with people who are not worthy
Why do we need to have someone even? If they are second best? Where did d we lose the ability to be happy With ourselves; to spend time with ourselves
Sitting here looking at my life and those of friends Around me, I become saddened…. Young couple meets and fall in love Bring beautiful into the world that both love But somewhere along the way their paths divided The love was lost The innocent are turned into a battlefield Lies e are told truths twisted into something ugly Hate, trauma and bitterness Fill the void left love departs
A couple meets, and the man thinks He has found a weak woman who will And can be molded into his idea of what The a perfect little wife is Who will not realize he cannot love her His love is for another man But he is too scared of society to say so They bring into the world A world where there is constant Belittlement, tears, coldness… What heritage and emotional scars Will those carry?
A man and a woman meet and fall in love In the most unlikely places, The love burns bright and beautiful And then it is gone bunt out replaced with bitter Ashes and pain neither admitting They still care neither understanding The others pain or the way They try and cover up that pain
Why does love turn to disillusionment Coldness cruelty and finally hatred
When we can answer that question Maybe our world will have a chance A chance to live in peace and harmony
I wonder if I will live to see it
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Take My Hand
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Posted:Nov 3, 2010 4:06 am
Last Updated:Jan 8, 2011 5:46 am
8795 Views
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This poem is dedicated to an incrediblly sweet, decent and sensative man.
Inadvertently to-day I hurt this man, I am hoping when he reads these words he will give me another chance.
Take My hand
Why is it we prefer to Live in the past? Why is it we find such comfort? Such a feeling of safety In curling up in familiar places As lonely as they may be Like a , returning to a fetal position In a dark place, where no one can find us
Choosing, for some unknown reason, To relive past pains, Past hurts, past rejections Why do we build an Ivory Tower? With no way in or out
Why is it easier to see The entire negative, To embrace self doubts, Hold fast to the “I am not worthy of this”
Why isit easier to tell ourselves? Why it will not work Rather than to risk one’s heart And reach out to the positive The real, in front of us
Why when someone wonderful Walks into our life Are we too scared to tell him so Using all the tired old excuses Tired so over used clichés To hide behind, shielding ourselves From fears of what might happen Rather than take a chance At what could happen
Why when someone Makes us come alive again To once more feel the radiance and the warmth of the sun To see all the beauty We have in this world
Why do we still remain silent? Or worse, in our fear Of making a fool of ourselves, We hurt that sweet kind decent person
Why when it is too late And he has walked out of our life Do we finally Have the courage to Say? “Please take my hand, “ Stay with me I am so scared, Scared as you might be scared Please help me learn How to Love again Please my darling man, Please help me Learn how to love you Love you as you deserve Please dear one,
My mouth dry My voice just a croak I stumble over those so often Misused and so difficult words “I think I love you “
Forgive my fears and self doubts Please give us a chance. For I have seen the sun in your eyes And know with you by my side, I will never return No never return to That dark dead place Where nevermore will My heart, lie shattered Abandoned and I once more would cower in my Ivory Tower
Darling man save me Please my Love takes my Hand
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Such a Long time
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Posted:Oct 29, 2010 8:32 am
Last Updated:Jan 8, 2011 5:47 am
9105 Views
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For the last couple of months I have sit before my computer Ready for my fingers to fly across the keyboard.
On my screen would appear words Words that somehow come together A poem would be born.
For hours I have sat there, suddenly inspiration hits me My fingers type furiously My heart is beating swiftly, This is it...I can feel it, It is going to be wonderful
I sit expectation high beginning Reading back what I have written.
My eyes cloud; tears form in my eyes My finger holding down the delete key One the screen the drivel, The tumbled words so clumsy disappear I leave my pc walking away in frustration, Anger, and a great sadness welling up in side me...
Is it gone, has it left me already, The muses did they but tease me, Tease this arrogant mortal She who thought herself so cleaver, so witty....A poet Did the sisters... tempt me, Let me think I could be a poet only cruelly to snatch it away Just as my confidence was building Just when I thought Yes I am on my way i am going to be a poet
I have a friend he happily announces during one of our many chat sessions he has written 20 poems in two weeks.... yes I know what you are going to say, yea but that many In such a short amount of time... they will be crap.
I read them, and reread them As he corrects grammar, Intuition that the words are nt quite right Need a little tweaking.
In the end all are good, some brilliant, some gut wrenching but all so tuned into his feelings the feelings of so many of us out there....
I am so happy for him, I respect his immense talent, When we sign off I go To my solitary chair in my garden Hug myself /
I sit there so still so quiet,just sit silent tears on my cheeks I sit mourning my loss I mourn my loss at the way my words used danced on the screen
I mourn my loss of feeling so energized I mourn the feeling of relief A long time fear A long hidden secret revealed I mourn , feeling sorry for myself
Then it comes gentle at first quiet, tiny, fragile, flickering a hope, a wish, a knowledge Maybe it si just writers block
A smile on my face, A wonderful happiness Spreading through me I will write again When it is time When I have something That needs to be said
Till then my screen will remain blank Now I rea lise That is all right I do not have to write poem after poem after poem
My poems are cathartic, Letting light into the darkness that lingers still in my soul My poems are quicksilver, Butterflies in all their beauty Taking flight
But most of all my poems are me a reflection of me, one of many reflections that make up the whole That is me.... I smile Rise from my chair This time I know I will be back
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Friendship so frail
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Posted:Jun 4, 2010 11:30 pm
Last Updated:Oct 29, 2010 7:41 am
9250 Views
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Friendship-s such a fragile thing
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Friendship what is it? That is the question that has been asked through the ages and still we search and try to put it into words that so inadequately express it
Friendship is a fragile thing The beating of two hearts in sync A beautiful Sunrise or sunset The first cry of a entering this world and the first sight by a mother of that Friendship is this and so much more
A meeting of two like minds Respect of each other Trust earned over time Loyalty given freely Being there in times of trouble Crying when you cry Laughing when you laugh
Friendship is holding your friends hand When he/she is facing a crisis Sitting with them maybe not talking just being there Embracing them when they have something good happen in their life
What is not friendship breaking their heart Losing their trust being guilty of disloyalty Selfishness thinking you know what is best Not taking their feelings into consideration
Thinking of how you are feeling not giving a thought to the damage persistent kicks in the teeth cause Lying , thinking you are helping when the truth thought painful was far more wanted
I have al;ways spouted that "Lovers are a dime a dozen" but "Friendship is a very rare jewel and should be guarded, nurtured and worked for" It is a pity I did not take my own advice. Is my damage beyond repair Only time will tell The first lesson to learn in gaining back friendship is humility Learning to put the wishes and needs of your friend first... Learning when it is best to just keep quiet not to interfere in her private business But above all else......
RESPECT
LOYALTY,
HONESTY
HUMILITY
LISTENING
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Guess they are just not good enough
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Posted:May 27, 2010 2:09 pm
Last Updated:May 28, 2010 5:08 pm
9463 Views
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It looks like people are reading my poems, but no comments are left.
I did not think it m,mattered what others thought of my scribbles, but it does....
I write from my heart and sometimes I lay myself open for all the world to see my vulnerabilities
When I first started writing, comments left gave me encouragement whether or not the poem was liked did not m,matter... at least I raised enough feeling to leave a message....
Now nothing, it is disheartening... am I filled with pride needing to be covered with kudos....no, I am just a very non confident lady scared her writings sucks......
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Oh my Love
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Posted:May 26, 2010 12:43 am
Last Updated:Nov 3, 2010 4:20 pm
9326 Views
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Another poem is finished Is it any good, I shrug my shoulders Does it really matter I do not write my poems for others to be patted on the back I write for the joy of seeing ideas, thoughts come to life to see them in black and white
My eyes are idly going down the list Lists of people who have read my poems My breath catches in my throat My heart starts pounding My eyes fill with tears Oh my god, Oh my god is it really you
With trembling fingers I click on the name before me the age is right, the State and even the city, it is you
My fingers fly over the keys asking a myriad of questions Are you all right? Are you happy? Why have you come back? Have you come back to me? or is it idle curiosity?
Do I send my message Do I delete it and let it be The pain of our parting was great My heart has become dormant not trusting to once more love to once more allow my heart to be in Simonne's else control
If you answered me, what would I do! Is it better not to pursue it But what is this was a second chance What if your doubts, your decisions were now regretted, what if you loved me still Oh God, please please guide me
I decide to walk away, no I will not go back Only to come back to the message and add to it Can I trust myself to remain calm, not let myself open my heart to you again
With a deep sigh I press the send button A feeling of nausea comes over me Oh God what have I done
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Guilty as charged.....
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Posted:May 25, 2010 7:14 pm
Last Updated:May 28, 2010 5:55 pm
9109 Views
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Guilty as charged...I judged I was so wrong
Nirvana, surely this is Nirvana Sitting here in the park above the beach The Sun caressing my body The gentle breeze ruffling my hair The aromas of family barbeques being cooked �s� laughter, dogs barking, Teenagers playing volley ball On the golden sparkling sands Surfers slicing the azure waters Dolphins riding beside them Jumping high into the air Performing somersaults disappearing Only to resurface on another wave Playing with the surfers and the waves Yes all is right with the world I am n Nirvana
My closed eyes contemplation is disturbed A voice with a slight upper-class accent Is raised in annoyance....this is unacceptable This water fountain has been broken for 4 days now How am I supposed to get my water? Her Mam, I have a spare bottle, please take it A woman of an in terminate age Looks at me for a moment Then gingerly walks towards me Wheeling a shopping cart I take in her appearance Her clothes are old fashioned But neat and clean her hair In a bun at the back of her head
Thank you most kind of you Taking the bottle from me She opens the lid and drinks Half the contents down at one go Chuckling, she turns to me, yes I am I am a bag lady, isn�t that they term they use
Embarrassed at being caught Staring at the contents of her trolley Oh forgive me so rude I mumble She pats my hand and an involuntary Hand withdrawal making me even more Embarrassed, what has come over me?
She continues on as if she had not noticed My reaction.. People here are so kind to me Look someone in the supermarket had broken The box of soap and this one was all that was left The same with the shampoo and conditioner It has spilled and was now only half full So Albert gave them to me. Grinning, the prosciutto he said it was too small He could no longer slice it The cheese was a little old not so fresh Yes Albert is a good man, The milk, bread all sold to me At a trifle with some excuse as to why, His wife bless her kin and knowing heart Slipped in a small bottle of deodorant Some baby powder and a small perfume spray Her understanding of my feminine side
I could not resist.... But the Wood, The pieces of wood, is it for fire wood Laughing she looked at me with Amusement written all over her face No I have a little project in mind
Since I lost my little cottage to vandals When I was taken to hospital, I have Since my discharge lived here Here....!But this is a national park managed by the Warrnaguping indigenous council Yes, the women�s council has been so generous.
Did you know they call me Yothu Yendghengi When she saw the blank look upon my face Woman who is one with mother earth Looking at her I see an amused twinkle, Would you like to visit my home?
Oh looking at my watch, well I err. Her laughter washing over me I understand, the mad bag lady might Attack you Feeling so annoyed with both her and myself She was reading me like a book I was even more furious with myself I had always prided myself on my ability To be non judgmental Definitely not predijuicedd
Swallowing several times, my voice A little croaky... I would love to visit your home..errr What do I call you, Oh I am Pagan by the way Jezebel.... her face breaking into a beautiful smile My mother loved the Bible and tried In her own little way to be outrageous My friends call me Jess
We commenced walking up the hill We arrived at the hill, the entrance of Burleigh Hill Indigenous Sacred Site She led the way up one of the footpaths That had been cleared for walkers I was starting to pant after about 5 mins Of the steep climb, Jes was happily talking And pushing her trolley apparently not even Raising a sweat All of a sudden she was not there in front of me Jes, Jes where are you, my voice raising a pitch. As my fear registered
I heard her voice behind me, I turned quickly Sorry luv, I forget my home entrance Is a little hard to see Please come back here... I look at the vista in front of me, tropical rain forest, trees, vines and large rocks Was she having fun with me? I tentatively started walking back towards her My jaw dropped open, there in front of me was a wide almost tunnel like entrance I walk slowly following her lead, Then, there ahead of me Is a brightly colored yellow wood en door set in brightly painted orange door frame.
Oh my god, when I entered the cave I was speechless Before me was a cosy spotlessly clean home, A wood platform above the dirt, Laying on that platform a beautiful Persian rug, Two old sofas and a single lounge chair Arranged along a wall and coffee table. All three covered in a beautiful crocheted Afghans. A butcher block and a gas 4 top portable stove, A little fridge stood next to it, A small generator humming away in the background. An old dresser restored with loving care Shelves and bookcases along the other rock wall All overflowing with books, hard cover and soft. A small CD and DVD player and TV receiver
A young g surfer friend, very cleaver young man Doing a degree in it, at the local public University at Parklands Hooked up several generators (Petrol run) to work my computer \ Ah you noticed my lanterns... I prefer the soft light they give off
Would you like a coffee, I am dying for one Unable to speak I just nodded my head Over coffee we became friends She relayed her story to me how she came To be Yothu Yendghengi. Quite a few hours later I finally left My mind trying to cope Trying to take in all I had seen and learned. The hardest was my perception of Myself lying in rubble at my feet
Here was a lady, and I mean that In every sense of the word teaching Me the true meaning of judgment Prejiduce, and discrimination Life had not been kind to her Battering her to her knees but always She rose again stronger and more tolerant Than many around her
A woman who had been born into a wealthy Affluent family some may say with silver Spoon firmly in her mouth To a woman who each morning Went to the beach and caught a fish. Yes just one as she explained She could only eat one so why catch more Then to scramble over the rocks Prying fresh oysters from where they clung The rock pools gave her baby octopus and squid... Her net bringing in a few prawns Cleaning all prepareing them She would put them on to simmer Adding fragrant native herbs She had grown in her small Aussie native Garden.. Jes explained she had sought Aand received permission to cultivate A small veggie and herb garden, Permission was also given For her to lay traps for three Peahens and wild Ducks and chickens that had made their homes In the sacred national park for her personal use.
What an inspiration, I could see many hours of conversation, debate and just general Chit chat ahead with my new extradionary Friend
It would also give me a chance to rebuild my . Shattered illusions of myself and hopefully Become a more tolerant open minded woman Like Jezebel.... a woman so comfortable in her skin
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Dancing In the Moonlight
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Posted:May 23, 2010 11:22 am
Last Updated:Nov 3, 2010 4:35 pm
5195 Views
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Huntress Moon
Sitting on her balcony she sips her baileys She is relaxed enjoying The smell of the ocean as she listens to The gentles caress of the waves Upon the rocks and sandy beach
Looking out over the pearly black waters How beautiful she thinks Seeing the full moon reflected In all its grandeur on the surface of the ocean
The mythology of Ancient Greece Flashes before her eyes And of Diana the Goddess of the Moon Her body feels the magnetic pull of the moon, Her body begins to feel a tingle, A subtle feeling of pleasure Her body begins to vibrate
Before she knows it she is walking Across the road to the beach Feeling the grainy yet silky sand Beneath her feet Clothes are discarded Falling hap hazzardly onto the sand.
Floating on the soft night breeze Come the lilting sounds of pan flutes and lyres She cannot deny her body and its need to dance Twirling twisting swaying sensual abandonment Her body is alive, with sexual energy Vibrating like a fine Stradivarius violin Faster and faster until she falls Exhausted onto the shore Her body writhing in sexual ecstasy.....
Her eyes are closed until She feels the caress of soft fingers A molten tongue caressing her Eyes fly open and a soft cry of pleasure issues She has no fear only feelings Of intense joy and harmony As she gazes s on the face A beautiful face of a silver haired woman Pagan feels the caresses upon her breasts Opening herself to the questing fingers And tongue the burning caress of the tongue The heat is balanced by the cool waters Of the ocean waves lapping around and over them...
Her body arches, she moans, and whimpers Till at last her body convulses Her organism claiming her Taking her to another plane of existence Where only pleasure dwells
Maybe she slept Maybe she lapsed into unconsciousness... She only know she is alone now on the beach Yet there is no sadness no emptiness Only Joy and total fulfilment
Slowly she rises to her feet Gathers her clothes Not bothering to put them on Walks naked back to her home....
In a trance like state she showers, Oils her body, making it soft and subtle And fragrant for she knows deep in her soul Diana came to her tonight and claimed her
From this night on she will be her devoted subject.... She slips beneath the cool sheets still smiling Knowing tomorrow night once more she will dance Her moon dance and worship its goddess And once more know the sensual and exotic touch Of Diana, Moon Goddess....huntress....
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