Month: February 2021

Why is it that the good times never last?

A home of aqua, as organic as it gets,
warm, wholesome, wonderful and wondrous.
An enclosure of bliss, a place of love – no, no, a place
made of love.

Suddenly, out of nowhere,
like a thief in the night,
like a menacing phantom,
it comes,
the end of hospitality,
the earthquake,
the catastrophe.
It’s like the fate of my own personal planet Krypton:
I’m sent off while all behind me falls to pieces.

I travel to the light, unwillingly,
It’s so very intense and much too bright.
The big squeeze into another world that seems way too large
and wide and weird and alien.

Well now, this cannot be right…

I try to mourn my loss in silence when some bastard slaps me for no good reason.
Ugly faces smile at me like idiots as the last link to my safe haven is forever cut.
Crying seems the only sober, sane and sensible course of action left at this point.
And boy do I cry. I let it reap, I don’t even give
a shit. I’m wailing and bellowing away for all it’s worth.

Abruptly, I’m lifted,
I am embraced
by hands that hold me tightly
and safely upon a soft bosom.
Unlimited love emanates from this person that looks upon me
with the sweetest of smiles and I can’t help but melt into the embrace.
Hell, this is not such a scary place after all.

You never knew how beautiful you were because you were naive and young.
You never knew how beautiful you were because no one ever told you,
but I knew.

Hate you for how you look.
Hate you for just being you.
ALL YOU KNEW WAS…
hate.
Ostracized and crucified because you didn’t look like them.
Uncle…
sweet Uncle, loved you in a way that he shouldn’t have and that was…
hate disguised as love.
And that became a problem.

No one protected you from darkness.
All you wanted was love and to be LOVED.
Self-hate was ingrained in every fiber of your being.
You were sent away and disregarded like an old dilapidated dog ready to be euthanized.
Forgotten about and swept under the rug like crumbs on a dirty kitchen floor.
Out of sight.
Out of mind.
Your problem became me and I was the secret with no one to blame.
HUSH CHILD!
No one was willing to accept or acknowledge me and I hated you for that.
Wailing non stop because I knew I couldn’t stay with you.
And you didn’t want me too.
You didn’t want me.
I know you.
I am you.
I arrived and I wasn’t invited.
Swept out of your arms without hesitation or regret.
Self-hate resonating within me and I can’t even talk.
Where can I place the blame?
You? Him? Them?
I blame myself.
Me?
Me.
Ostracized and crucified because I don’t belong.
I don’t belong to you, or them.
Who am I? I don’t know.
I reject love.
How can I love when rejection is all I know?
Darkness.
I carry my hurt, my pain, my shame with me everywhere I go.
Like an imaginary friend ready to be introduced to the world.
You left this world too soon and with a lot of things left unsaid.
My heart aches for you,
because you were the one person who I thought could have saved me.
How could you save me when you couldn’t save yourself?

is a mighty big leap
too careful for the carefree
too cautious for the risky

From blindness to mindful
is more than hide and seek
or so it seems
resting here in fugitive shadows
where knowledge
is naughty
and shameful is lost

where beauty is measured in
shouts and frets
and to go against masters is
the game
while equipped only
with a simple child’s aim

The ancients know the mystery
laughing now in holy death
a tremendous roar in near silence
that barely the wise may hear

where knowledge is naughty
and shameful is lost
where wild becomes tame
where the adage is never aged
saying always what will be best
is simply to keep that
child’s aim

Oh so you say it’s a poor poet’s plea
hidden in common rhyme, lost in
daily meter
where reason taunts with rawness
scaring and scarring some seasoned tales
of make believe comfort
where acceptance reigns regal, where there’s
no need to blame
where a simple child
has simply lost his aim

Always coming in the night,
To steal away before first light.
Never to allow me a glimpse,
Of My Little Lion Man.

We talk through the darkness,
Never needing light.
Until the morning comes,
And he leaves before the light.

We’ve become best of friends,
despite the lack of knowing
What type of emotion,
The other’s face is showing.

But we know each-other well,
My Little Lion Man and Me.
We’re like puzzle pieces,
We just click together,
As you soon shall see.

He dares me to take chances,
I take them from time to time.
He asked me to write something,
So I wrote this little rhyme.

In case you didn’t know,
I wrote this on a whim.
For tonight was the perfect night to write an ode to him.

My Little Lion Man is the friend who visits throughout my day.
I will tell you what he is,
If you listen to what I say.

The Little Lion Man is representative,
Of all my hopes and dreams.
We write stories in my head,
For hours into the night it seems.

The Little Lion Man is my drive,
My will to keep on going.
In a house as busy as a hive,
Determination is what you’ve got to be showing.

Although he leaves in the morning,
We talk throughout the day.
He’s in my head you see,
Giving me encouragement,
As I go about my way.

We talk through the darkness,
Never needing sight.
Until the morning comes,
And he leaves before the light.

It’s usually just us,
My Little Lion Man and Me.
And we go about our day,
as happy as can be.

Written by,
Abigail Hannah Williams

I am an oak tree
Rooted in the earth
Generation after generation
I have withstand the seasons of time!
I have seen joy
I have seen triumph
By all races and creeds
Animosity for neither
I felt the sunshine even the rain
Yet the most trying times
Yielded in the midst of so much suffering
A race, a people set apart from others, all because of the color of their skin
You see the branches of this oak exterior witnessed the lynching and death to mankind
A mankind set apart!
Enslaved I was too! Nothing I could say or do!
Tears of a mother as she embraced my exterior!
Whose children were sold out of her control
Her dignity taken against her will!
The sacrifices of one race that reared children who were not their own
Loving and caring people
Whose lives marks significance of our freedom today!
I seen your ancestors suffer, scream, grieve, laugh, and cry!
All while praying in the midst of it all!
Their faith unwavering!
So you can use my peak as shade, my branches to swing and play!
I am a oak tree
Heartbroken as I reflect upon the past
I’ve seen it all
Yet I am still standing so I can share with you’
Your life now… is not your doing
You are blessed because of what your ancestors endured!
Know your past and continue the legacy of change
I want to see the difference you will make…
So generations after you will flourish
Rooted in their history as a reflection of what it truly means to be free!
Grab hold of my branches
Lay in green fields, smell the flowers,
Playing until you’re tired is a privilege given to you by the patriarchs and matriarchs of your past!
If I could speak, the stories will never cease!
Their struggles alone blessed you and me!
I’m an oak tree rooted then and now
Waiting and watching through the seasons of life … making sure the legacy of being ‘free’ continues!!!!
Sent from my iPhone

Author Tricia Billington

We never did
Drink the tavern dry
We never did
Watch the years go by
We never did
Stroll along the Thames
We never did
Sneak off into the Men’s
We never did
Dance naked in a storm
We never did
Make love until the dawn
We never did
Choose our favourite song
We never did
Lift up where we belong
We never did
Holiday in Gdansk
We never did
Watch Netflix in our pants
We never did
Run for the last bus
We never did
Ever call us “us”
We never did
Discuss our childhood books
We never did
Linger on the looks
We never did
Learn to cook Makhani
We never did
Find each other funny
We never did
Meet each-others’ folks
We never did
Tell inappropriate jokes
We never did
Wake up in a blur
We never did
Change the way we were
We never did
Eat at KFC
We never did
Run into the sea
We never did
Stay at The Savoy
We never did
Bring each other joy
We never did
Hold hands when we walked
We never did
Smile when we talked
We never did
Head home feeling great
We never did
Go on a second date

I see like the sky sees—
Winding rivers, peaks, small bushes, tall trees…
A reality surrounded by all shades of purples and golds,
Humanity held together by unseen yet powerful bonds.
I hear like the mountain hears—
It feels like the air lent me its ears.
I hear echoes of joy and despair,
Emotional struggles we all share.
I feel like the earth feels—
Sharp claws of unappreciation and neglect that sneak in for the kill…
Then deeper… the gentle pull of nurture that ripens and heals.
I taste like the water tastes—
Samples of euphoria and deep sorrow strengthening my ways.
I touch like the world—
In colorful sharp icicles or warm, gentle swirls.
Winter becomes me on its sunniest days and harshest snowy nights;
Fall, spring, and summer follow in my footsteps… feed off of my lows and my highs.
But I see best when I close my eyes that can’t see anyway,
I see the world through a twisted perspective… the way my soul puts it on display.

Detelina Stamatova, Lyrics of The Soul: Heartbeat
All rights reserved
Detelina Stamatova
My Magic Words LLC
http://www.mymagicwords.com
http://www.facebook.com/mymagicword

http://www.inheritthebeautywithinblog.com

It’s a spiritual warfare going on they wanna take away our essence.
If you don’t know what your essence is than how can you protect it?
You first have to be mindful of how you can be affected,
then trace it to the cause so you can prevent from being defected.
Love is the essence of your being,
that indispensable feeling that can never be rejected,
that’s why they want to infect it.
Planting viruses instead of planting seeds so they can wreck ship (shit);
casting spells instead of casting light, basic principles of the matrix.
So let’s face it…the devil will try to destroy love and use hate to replace it,
but love is so strong can’t nothing erase it.
Don’t get me wrong, trouble times can shake it,
but the struggle will only redefine and reshape it.
So don’t let the devil shape-shift your essence into the matrix,
leaving you complacent.
Feeding you lies so you can’t see the basics.
Seek out the truth and you will see it’s all make-shift.

Author: Kelly G & Mask Intel

It came in cold and just won’t let up.

Each day is painful, both physically and mentally. The body, the mind together reject this terrible winter weather. Winds howl, snow flies, sun hides, sky’s cry.

People bundle, dogs go out do their business run back inside. Joy waits for warmer days. Happiness is lost among the frost. Trees shiver while branches snap. Birds hop hide beneath the spruce nettles, waiting for the sun to warm their feathers. Wild wolves wander on frozen tundra searching for food alive or dead. Lonely souls wait for spring to come alive but only if they can survive this murderess winter.