Pain and Pleasure

Just a glance and you would never guess,
how much her soul can supress.
Her smile only shows what she allows,
hiding her bodys inability to be aroused.
A heart that has taken too many blows,
and is filled with the sounds of crows.
Following her through life in flight,
waiting for that hot blaze to ignite.
A burning blaze that scorches the pain,
and cant be extinguished by any rain.
The wildfire that eradicates her soul,
and cauterizes all the shrapnel holes.
It is this inferno that she desperately needs,
and all of the havoc that it breeds.
For in this inferno lies her existence,
all of her chances for subsistence.
Hoping for her heart to be burned to coal,
so that she may salvage her dead soul.
A hand firmly around her throat,
even a hateful little note.
A bite upon her soft skin,
any pain that is like sin.
Pain that stimulates her senses,
from whoever is willing to dispense.
It is tortuous pain that will save her,
trading her soul in a legal transfer.
Giving it to that terrible hellion,
to become a twisted minion.
So that she may feel again,
the blood rushing through her veins.
Her soul will belong to this entity,
who can give her a feeling of identity.
Identity amongst the dark haze,
lurking inside her full of strays.
Stray bullets that left the deepest wounds,
from the firefight that has left her doomed.
Doomed to feel nothing in her heart,
only numbness until she departs.
This sinful pain is now her pleasure,
she holds it tightly like a treasure.
A treasure that has no value,
except for the pain that accrues.
The more she is ripped and torn,
the closer she is to being reborn.

A Passing Glance

Everyday is the same,
Whether at home or in town.
Even with those who know your name,
Only a passing glance down.

We look at each other,
But only with our eyes.
Never seeing anything deeper,
Living in our own lies.

Seeing only what we want,
That which we deem important.
Some take pride and flaunt,
Others relish their insignificance.

Never looking deeper than the flesh,
Never seeing what is inside.
Always missing the solid mesh,
That binds us and also divides.


That which binds us to this life,
Which keeps us full of desire.
And that which divides us like a knife,
Slicing through like artillery fire.

We walk around in a hypnotic trance,
Oblivious to our impending deaths.
Nothing more than a passing glance,
And that final drawn breath.

Something Completely Different (Rated R, or worse, lol)

A kiss on the cheek, a kiss on the eyelid.
The quivering begins, from the touch of his hands.
Magic surrounds her under that bright blue moon.
For tonite she does not sleep alone.
She is overflowing with passion and fire.
Waiting and hoping she is his desire.
His soft kisses and strong embrace,
Ah, such pleasure in this new place.

This new place of pleasure is irresistable.
He holds her tightly and bares her breast.
Kissing her so delightfully she loses her breath.
His soft tongue finds her nipple, and his teeth begin to play.
His hands explore her body, as he bites her flesh.
He raises her skirt and moves to her legs,
Her milky white flesh inviting him to feast.
She wriggles and wrythes with every nibble.
Waiting for him to give her that pleasure.

His steamy breath against her flesh.
Her fountain flowing and begging for him to taste.
Her legs squeezing his head as he teases.
And then he tastes her, her sweet flower.
In full bloom and with plentiful nectar.
Her heart is racing and skin sweating.
His mouth and tongue so penetrating.
She grabs his head and pulls him higher.
She kisses him and shares the nectar.
Her body is shaking from the anticipation.
She begs for him to fill her,
For him to swim in her river.
The one that flows for only him.

Her flesh is so hot it burns him,
He knows she is ready for his love,
Her hands explore his body,
She finds HIM, full and engorged,
Ready to deliver his passion.
Her knees pressing into his sides.
Pulling him towards her raging rapids.
He makes her wait for him to enter.

He makes her beg and squirm,
She moans and pulls on him,
He knows he has control,
She would give in to his every whim
Just to feel his passion.
Her legs squeeze tightly
As she flips him over,
Tired of waiting she takes control
He feels the immense heat
As she lowers herself toward him,
And then she takes him,
Slowly letting him in,
Until he grabs her hips,
Pulling her down hard,
Filling her completely,
She squirms with him inside her,
He feels her muscles contract,
Her body reacting to him
To this beautiful pleasure,
She kisses him firmly,
As she squirms and moans,
He is touching her soul
And doesnt even know.

As her body rotates and squirms
He feels the explosion approaching.
He tries to slow her down
Holding her hips tightly
She doesnt stop for him,
She keeps moving and moaning,
Until his grasp gets tighter,
His body releasing into her
Filling her with his nectar
His body convulses,
As she is pressed down on him
She leans down towards him
And kisses his soft skin,
Happy that she has pleased him.

And as he falls deep into slumber,
She slithers out of his embrace
Leaving the softest kiss
Upon his resting eyes
And flies off into the sky
Where she can fly free.
And he awakes alone
Wondering if it was all a dream.

The Kingsnake

I had written this in a Doctor's waiting room after hearing about my boyfriend's father killing a kingsnake. I know its rather strange, but I am a biologist and love all animals, yes, even those scary gators that swim all around me. I shared it with someone who posted it, I figured I might as well re-post it here for everyone to share, i think it funny. :)

The Kingsnake

My bite may hurt, but it does not sting;
For there is no venom running through these veins.
Yet afraid of me they are and still kill me they will.
Upon sight, their hearts turn to fear.

I will wriggle and wrythe trying to escape.
Unbeknownst to them, I am a friendly mate.
I eat the very rodents that make them scream,
And those with venom yet unseen.

All my good deeds completely forgotten;
But die I must, and begin my rotting.
Oh, would something lead them astray?
So that I may live to see another day!

Shades of Gray

ok, i am not feeling well and have taken my headache medicine so i hope this is as coherent to everyone as it is to me at this time. :)


Without much distinctness,
I recall my humble beginnings.
When my palette was in full bloom,
With a broad spectrum of colors to sling.

The colors of flowers in the orchard,
The variations of the clays in the soil.
Small clumps strategically placed on a board,
Constantly begging to be blended and toiled.

Reds, blues, greens, and all other hues,
Ready to provide the backdrop of life.
I would think so carefully which to use
Before I even touched that palette knife.

Nothing was ever neutral then,
The intensity of life had a pulse.
My surroundings had a complexion,
Palpable textures from fine to coarse.

We all begin with a blank canvas,
Adding colors as we perceive them.
Years pass us on to a lower place.
Piles of pigment reduced to gems.

We are given one life,
Only one wooden palette.
Sometimes they collide in strife
As we fumble about our orbits.

The canvas becomes suffuse
As the colors blend and fade.
There are few hues left to choose.
Only black and white remain.

So, I live in shades of gray,
Searching for my deliverance,
As my canvas sits on display.
I wait in full reverence.

Your rainbow is strongly shaded green.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What is says about you: You are an intelligent person. You feel strong ties to nature and your mood changes with its cycles. Those around you admire your fresh outlook and vitality.

Find the colors of your rainbow at spacefem.com.

NO!

Oh when that wretched phone rings,
what horrible dread it brings.
You can feel it before you answer,
that the news it brings is like cancer.
My most beloved and missed Aunt Lou Belle,
the one that always has time to care.
Illness has stricken in its' cruelest way.
Her brain is blocked or bleeds and her mind is astray.
Her speech is now slurred,
and her vision blurred.
Her quick wit gone like a feather in the wind!
She knows where she wants to go,
but her body will no longer bend.
One word born of tenderness
has found her and left her helpless.
One simple word has crippled her,
Stroke...making her life a blur.

Another Sleepless Night...

Here I am again,
though it does not surprise me.
Will this never end,
my constant pursuit of sleep?

My brain is tossing and turning,
though my body is still as a board.
Those memories constantly churning,
while my brain only hoards.

It's like one of those old flip books
that comes to life as the pages fall.
Oh, how I long for that lost nook,
where comfort and warmth covered all.

Restful sleep brings with it internal peace,
even if only for a few hours.
An angel drops down giving the softest kiss,
as the ringing ends in bell towers.

The end of the ringing signals time for slumber.
Most drift off without batting an eye.
But for me it requires such labor,
for awake in bed I quietly lie.

Night after night I struggle with thee;
Lashing and striking with all my might;
At those ever present demons that wont set me free;
They would rather haunt me every night.

Enjoyable to them I am sure,
this Tango-like dance that we share.
Ah! But one day I shall find the cure,
to rid me of these demons that haunt my nightmares.

Cursed to lurk in the night,
like an uncivilized savage.
With no one understanding my plight.
My heart and mind are unguarded against their ravages.

These persistent demons holding me captive,
each night pull harder and harder.
Not knowing the ability i possess to be adaptive,
for so deep is my desire for great ardour.

One day I shall find their weakness,
as they have surely found mine.
And then their defeat shall end my bleakness,
so that I can be free to feel the divine.

That long, lost tender love,
where I felt so safe and secure,
before I met that mourning dove,
and my heart was still so pure.

Betrayal

Beware of that sneaky demon,
known to most of us as betrayal.
It sails in swiftly as an able seaman,
and gives the sense of safety with its portrayal.

But soon it shall strike like a snake,
filling your heart full of its' venom.
And all in its' path it will forsake,
leaving their souls in delirium.

Beware those acts of kindness,
that can be morphed in treason.
When asked, we give with complete blindness,
without asking rhyme or reason.

Only to find ourselves manipulated
amidst the violent implosion.
For the rules were never clearly stated,
and suddenly our hearts become victims of corrosion.

A Beautiful Day...or perhaps simply unchained lunacy.

I came across this one today in my journal and actually laughed at myself. I can't believe I wrote this. Let me clarify for those who read it that I don't believe hurricanes or earthquakes and the such are sent to us as punishment. It is simply nature, intertwined with our own nature to a degree. Oh, and please, never put a blue anything in your house! lol


What a beautiful day this is!
The occasional cool breeze wisping by,
The sun peeking in and out of the clouds in the sky,
Birds chirping their beautirul songs,
Dragonfly's landing here and there
and frolicking in the air,
The beauty of the magnolias in full bloom.

If only I could smell the odiferous feast through my clorox high,
I have scrubbed and scrubbed that blue tub that for now,
shines like the stars in the sky.
Seriously, who would put a blue tub in a house?
So hideous that I want to cry.

It amazes me how I can see all this beauty.
That which disguises all that is ugly.

Humans believe they rule the world.
Occasionally, Mother Earth sends us a reminder.
As we siphen that valuable oil,
and mine her beautiful stones,
She reminds us that it is her world in which we toil.
Taking and taking, then polluting.
This is how we treat such beauty.
Mother Earth sends us hurricanes,
and toxic soups to stew in,
still no lessons learned.

We continue to rape her soul.
It is humans that are toxic,
Destroying beauty every chance they get,
for a green piece of paper.
Money, that which drives mankind, in it's emptiness,
It gives us only what destroys our world.
And yet we seek it more and more.

We destroy each other and discard the corpses,
Thrown to the side as if they never existed.
Someone loved them, but who?
Are they also thrown to the side?
Fighting and squabbling over that black crude
Which fills Mother Earth's belly.
Sucking her dry every day,
Until she decides to show us her own way.
Her own way of self-preservation.
Destroying those who wreak havoc on her,
leaving trails of destruction.
She will find her revenge,
humble us if we are not too blind to see her lessons.
And eventually destroy us.

Shifting plates,
rumbling thunder and lightning,
wind and rain,
hail and walls of water crashing down
as she demonstrates her power to us.

But who is truly listening? No one.
Humans, mankind will destroy it all
to line their pockets until she rinses them empty again.
Reclaiming that which was stolen from her.
Pillaging the Earth until she has retrieved all of herself,
including the rotting flesh that lays waste on the side.

Oh! What a beautiful day can disguise!

Searching...

Wandering on the edge of insanity,
she is all alone with her impurities.
Buried deep inside her heart,
lives a memory in the dark.

Lika a Ghost in the night,
the memory haunts her every sight.
Its' embrace consumes all that she is,
the constricting pain imposed is relentless.

Her breath is taken away,
when she wakes each and every day.
The morning haze lifts and reality becomes clear,
she has nothing left to feel.

Nothing left but all the pain,
that which the Ghost completely reigns.
A King he had wished to be,
and it is her soul he holds in captivity.

She doesn't know if she will feel again.
Not how, nor where, nor when.
She seeks any feeling besides pain,
while her tears fall harder than any rain.

She follows the sun and stars,
everyday searching within her heart,
for peace to come in any form,
and save her soul that has been ripped and torn.

The storms come, the tides rise, land is inundated by the sea,
carrying her away to a place she has never been.
As the moon driven tides ebb and flow,
she drifts helplessly to a place unknown.

The brackish water covers all her tears,
and stings those wounds, disquising all her fears.
Fears that keep her bound to her Ghost,
the shackles of iron that she loves the most.

The pain of a mother completely entombed,
by the very son who came from her womb.
The son in life she so tightly embraced,
just as the breath that the Ghost takes.

From her flesh and blood he grew,
becoming part of her soul that only she knew.
Neither can let the other go,
and the sea shall soon swallow them whole.

These bonds are too strong,
and together forever they belong.
This pain that only a mother can know,
for it is the fruit that only she can sow.

She remains that eternal lost soul,
seeking out others who might also know.
Those who will know without a word,
the sharp edges of that wicked sword.

Someone who might see in her eyes,
that soul that can no longer shine.
Who can see in her eyes the desperate pleas,
for her lost son who chose to leave.

Sinking deeply into that great abyss,
trapped in a cesspool, deprived of any bliss.
The reflections of the sun are fading above,
as she sinks deeper towards her love.

Her stolen love that will never heal,
and never release her so that she might feel.
To feel anything but the pain,
as it is all of him that remains.

Unable to save herself, her eyes begin to close,
as she gives in to the pain in her soul.
Then something changes, she is alone no more,
another lost soul takes her to shore.

Like an energy encased in similar pain,
it carries her to shore unexplained.
An unseen force with a heart of its' own,
buried in its' pain, yet unknown.

I've heard that as one door closes, another will open,
the sun gleaming so brightly it blurs her vision.
A faint rhythm begins to fill the air,
filling the empty space, but coming from where?

The melody is growing in intensity,
different -- not affected by lividity.
Not the Ghost holding her tightly,
but another being in a similar plight.

The rhythm turns into a familiar beat,
and brings with it an immense heat.
A heat that warms her blood,
a long lost feeling that is so good.

A hand reaching into her heart,
that has completely fallen apart.
As this being draws nearer,
his rhythm begins to fill her.

Not just a tympanic symphony,
but a rhythm so strong it is felt throughout her body.
With each step closer that he takes,
she feels his heart begin to race.

They share the same pains and fears.
As he comes closer it becomes so clear.
Not one glance into each others eyes,
but yet their souls still collide.

The beating of their hearts entangled,
a convoluted mix that is mangled.
Incoherent when initially combined,
yet clearly understood inside their minds.

Like the waxing of the moon,
his heart begins to swoon.
Then as the moon wanes,
the soothing in her heart begins.

The convoluted mix of entangled hearts
coordinates into one symphonic art.
Their hearts become finely tuned,
like the beauty of the new moon.

Inexplicably, two hearts each other hold,
a sensation that all words have left untold.
Untold because there are no words to define,
two haunted hearts trapped in time.

Politics

I am rather exhausted with the entire political scene right now. With the inauguration today, it is all that you see on the news.

I spent yesterday afternoon at a town meeting with our Governor, Bobby Jindal. I was surprised that he actually reminded me of our soon to be President Obama. Very charismatic, genuine, and upbeat demanding change to improve our state.

Not to mention much more handsome in person. lol

He actually met with each person individually. I didn't realize politicians did this. He took plenty of time, no rushing, and listened intently to the people there. It was quite refreshing.

I must share the most unusual qoute from the meeting by Governor Jindal. "I'm from South Louisiana, what part of a chicken is inedible?" lol He was referring to a discussion with an alternative fuels processor who makes diesel from inedible chicken parts.

I start a new semester in nursing school today and hope to be able to post something new this afternoon. :)

Almost Monday Morning

Here I am again,
chasing that elusive sleep.
I keep trying in vain,
for sweet slumber and I to meet.

Perhaps it's the alluring moon
that keeps my mind in motion?
Synapses firing in the brain making me into a loon.
A condition that cannot be cured even by that wonderful potion.

It's commotion with a preconceived notion,
but in this state, the notion remains hidden,
triggered by my deepest emotions.
Those that, even for me, remain forbidden.

My brain, constantly riddled,
no matter night or day,
or even how much I've fiddled,
these demons I cannot slay.

If I run faster instead of laying waste,
maybe I can catch that blue moon
and hold it in my warm embrace,
perhaps convincing it to sing my tune.

Shall I dare try again?
Oh, this monotonous dread!
Possibly this relationship we can mend,
for I shall again try to slumber in my bed.

Por Mijo, Mi Amor

(written 5/17/2008)

Today I will visit your grave,
and that familiar facade will remain.
For the world, I will appear so brave,
yet inside, my soul will scream in pain.

At your feet, I will strongly stand,
staring at your name etched in marble.
I will shake as I softly place my hand
over your drawing and marvel.

Your art is forever displayed
on the stone that remembers your name.
Your shape is forever preserved
on the vase that signifies your fame unattained.

Your soft hands holding the guitar
that you so skillfully played.
The strings attached to my heart
echoing the sounds that your hands made.

Under the beautiful oak tree, you will forever lay.
The moss hanging down all around your grave.
And the river you face will bring serenity
when the overcast skies bring in the choppy waves.

Off the river comes the sweeping winds.
Softly blowing through the moss that hangs,
yet coldly brushing across my skin,
drying the unseen tears that leave the salty stain.

For today, you would be only fifteen.
But fate chose another path for you.
A life barely begun before it saw its end.
A path that the Lord and You only knew.

Who will blow out the candles from your cake?
My own breath lacks the strength.
The winds from the river shift and fluctuate,
extinguishing the candles as if you sent them.

I will pray before I turn away,
that I will see you under the moon.
The wind makes the moss sway,
as I hope slumber brings us together soon.

I can only see you in my dreams,
under the twinkling stars whose names you knew.
Impatiently I wait for that slumber so sweet,
under the beaming light of the blue moon.

It is then that you still feel so real.
Your smell, your skin, your hair.
As if you were still near.
All this waiting, it is so unfair.

Gloria's Hummingbird

With Beauty on the inside
to match that on the outside.

Like the elusive hummingbird
lured by the scent of jasmine;
Only to end up distracted and admiring,
drinking from the trap of bloody-colored nectar.

Yet always able to escape,
too fast in flight for the net.
Free to soar the blue skies
and have no regrets.

Constantly searching for the next great thing,
her spirit leads her completely unchained.
From one place to another,
ensuring that she will always find another lover.

Stopping just long enough to enjoy the sweet nectar,
then off in flight again in search of the next flavor.
Irresistable is that hummingbird to all she meets,
just as the sweet nectar which she seeks.

New posts to come soon...

Please check back often, I will be adding some of my writings very soon...

An Introduction to Me and My Life...

I am a 36 year old woman. I have been a daughter, aunt, wife, mother, and caretaker. My life has been spent mostly taking care of others in my life.

I grew up in a well balanced family, an intact family, small but intact. My father, a wonderful man, died when I was 18 from a massive heart attack on May 6, 1991. He had been sick for many years and had numerous heart attacks. The last one was different. he was always scared when they happened, but not the last time. He held on long enough for my sister and I to arrive, just long enough to look me in the eyes one last time. A look I had never seen before, I knew at that moment that I had already lost him. His last look told me how much he loved me, and how sorry he was that he couldn't stay any longer. I was his little girl, the baby, the one who always sought to please him in everything I did.

My mother was the rock of the family, she changed when he died, I don't recognize her anymore. She is now permanently disabled, an automobile accident, permanent brain damage and chronic pain. She is even more foreign since her accident. She has never let go of my father, she can't move past that loss. I love her so much, but do not connect to her anymore.

I have two sisters, both older than I. My eldest and I were raised together, a strange relationship, never very close. Full of animocity and vindictiveness. She married young, she is still with her husband, they have one son, my beautiful nephew. My other sister was born with brain damage and is living in an institution. She is unmanageable, the mind of a 2-year old and is 38-years old. She hates me, everytime I try to see her she attacks me like a savage. I still can't help but love her and wish she had been a part of my life though. My parents had to institutionalize her after my birth since she was constantly trying to kill me as an infant.

We moved around alot, my father worked in the oilfield industry. I never had roots anywhere. I actually have the instinct to run when I feel roots attaching to the earth beneath me. I enjoy renewing my life. No matter how many times I do it, the pain remains, it lingers in the shadows like a stalker, waiting for that moment of weakness when it can overtake me again, victimizing me over and over again. I have accepted that. There is no running from your pain.

After I lost my father, I was totally shattered, I became completely lost. I didn't know where I was headed, where I wanted to go, what I did from day to day. Then I met him, the one, one look in the eyes and I knew him, I knew he was going to be my husband. He said he felt the same. We married quickly, and as soon as we married, I became pregnant. We both wanted the same things, or at least we thought we did at the time. Five months after we married, on New Year's Eve, he put a gun into his mouth and left me forever. Pregnant with our son, I was alone, and even more destroyed.

I trudged on, gave birth to our beautiful baby boy, raised him, went to school. He was sick early on, childhood asthma, but he managed to grow out of that, only to grow into severe pituitary dysfunctioning. He was amazing, smart, talented (guitar player), tender, generous, so very loving. The world was cruel to him. School, both students and staff, his father's family who refused to see him as his own person instead of his father reincarnated. The hormonal disorders, nightly injections, constant bullying. One night, I walked into his room and found him hanging. He had left me too after only 13 short years with me. My world was completely destroyed then. This was November 3, 2006.

I have learned there are levels of destruction in our hearts. My son, losing him, blasted every possible level there was, unimaginable pain that never goes away. Questions that never get answers. The most beautiful love of your life lost forever, until your own death arrives.

So here I am today, searching my soul for the reasons I have left to continue on, a new reason to wake each day, wondering when the Lord is going to give me some kind of happiness in life. I have searched and searched for it, I think I find it, then he takes it from me. Constantly reminding me that he is in control, not me.

While some of you who read my posts will find some disturbing, don't worry, it feels much better to have it out of my heart than keeping it locked away. I hope some of you will understand them, understand their contradictions and ability to be morphed into something else. Some are fiction, some are true, my writing interests are greatly varied. So, please enjoy, and please let me know what you think, even if it is sharing your own stories with me.