Saturday, January 24, 2009


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!

Wednesday, January 21, 2009


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.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009


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. :)

Monday, January 19, 2009

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.

Sunday, January 18, 2009

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.