Bad Blend

I scribbled this down one night while seething in anger. I am looking at it now and it is difficult to read my own handwriting when in that state, but I finally made out the words…here goes.

Bad Blend

My world is my mind,

My life lives in three hearts

My cubbyhole is a box

In which I shall not depart

Although I peek outside

Every now and then

My senses become numb

And can’t say ‘stop’ or ‘when’

Don’t do that again!

After the fire, there are no ashes,

The ‘calm’ disintegrates

I don’t see what I see…

Sad truths are instantly erased

But appeasement

Follows and soothing words sweep up like a broom

The reality of what went wrong

Keeps me from darkest darkness;  impending doom

Though not entranced by shiny objects – rings and things, they all glisten

From sticks to bricks – they all hurt

Except for when I don’t listen

Staying the course can be a many splendor thing

But if not careful, splinters pierce veins

This pain deeply stings

I forgive, but cannot forget

Forgetting is graciously God’s elected job

I am relieved to know that this truth is set

While I without fear violently rob

The thief that comes in

To steal, kill, and destroy

The circle of my love, washed in anxiety

Somehow I maintain naturally induced joy

The spigot of eternity awaits me through dogged faith

I shall remain bold

For fear of becoming lukewarm

As opposed to keeping myself hot and from turning cold

There is a river that flows continually from within

Please let it do what it does –

Undisturbed

To avoid creating new sin

 

This was a little weird for me…I’m still not sure what I was actually trying to express, but I do know that it came from deep inside a burning heart and a mind that was filled with anger and hope all in one mixed up package.

Thanks for reading.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aside

The Roof…

Several days have gone by and I have not been able to think of anything to write. I have looked at some prompts that held my interest, but I can’t seem to get my thoughts together on any of them right now. I don’t know why this happens to me so often and it is very disturbing to me that at times my mind is full of words and rhymes that seem to flow effortlessly while writing posts and at other times there is absolutely nothing. I can deal with going a day or two but when this ‘thing’ lasts for a week or more it really bothers me, so I decided to just start pecking on the keyboard to write about my thoughts on this issue of mine and maybe something decent will be borne from it.

As I am typing now I have absolutely no idea if I will end up with a poem or just a regular post, but today has been a bit foggy with everything that I tried to do around the house such as putting a chicken in the oven and completely forgetting about it. The fact that my sense of smell is not so keen does not help much when my short-term memory is compromised along with my foggy overall thinking on days like these. It was the kids who informed me that I needed to check dinner because it had ‘been in there too long’ just before my husband came in from work exclaiming the same and of course, I smoothed things over by explaining to my hungry family that the chicken did not burn in the oven, but that it was just a little too brown. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. I am glad to say that these incidents do not occur often, it’s just a tad too frequent for me as I piddle around – not disgusted or depressed but rather…slightly disenchanted. Needless to say, I will be very thankful when whatever it is has run its course and finally ends.

Despite my current temporary funk, the kids are still running around playing and joshing ever so loudly so all is still well other than the fact that my brain keeps drawing a big fat blank – the noise…I love and hate it all at the same time.

Meanwhile, here goes something…hopefully it will not turn out to be nothing.

For the record, my six-year-old just came in to tell me that he really enjoyed my wonderfully burnt chicken and that I am the best cook in the world. This either means that we really need to get out more, or the boy has an unnatural relationship with food that needs to be addressed immediately…maybe a little of both, but here goes:

My renewable solitude

Where I can be nice or even rude

Feelings stay in my pocket until I make them known

Yet they all understand when my symptoms are full-blown

Nights are too short but the days are long

I am constantly covered whether I’m right or wrong

I can think and say whatever I feel

I can perfectly cook or even burn a meal

Despite it all, I live with true love

Settled in this place like a hand in glove

My commitment here is worth more than gold

My intent is to stay put until at last I am old

No matter how rough or ragged the road

I shall make the best of my cozy, humble abode

Tranquil fantasies often blend in with my nightmares

Sleep deprived but well rested because someone cares

Good days and not – all are cherished the same

Mama and Wife are my first and last names

Though not necessarily do they come in that order

They maintain their presence when I reach that dreaded border

Of the last of my sanity – when at my wit’s end

Feeling abandoned – lacking family or friend

My quick fix is in the eyes of three loving brown pairs

I realize again why my life was spared

To see their smiles and be disturbed by happy noise

My reason for living is one girl and two boys

They love unconditionally when I can’t and when I can

I must give props to their dad – a hard-working man

Many a struggle has invaded and burst through our front door

But love and faith taught us what togetherness is for

I learn as I go while using what I was taught

I refuse to have had my folks go through all that trouble for naught

In spite of my imaginings, I embrace my today

Never trading out my years to live in  another way

This group never fails to succeed when my mind is aloof

In giving me in hopes of what’s in store for us under the same roof

Aside

May 2, 2013 Blog Dare Prompt – I Will Never Lose…

my faith in God. There have been so many instances and incidents where I could have easily given  up and said screw it all, but why would I do that?  If my mind and heart has been staid all of these years up until now, I figure that there is no reason for me to change unless something so drastic happens that I have no choice. I am here to tell you now that the beginning of my very life was so drastic once I learned about it as well as one other situation during my childhood that I am convinced and that there is not much left that can  change what I believe now…it just wouldn’t make much sense to say that what has occurred over my lifetime was merely a compiled set of incidents that can only be attributed to coincidence.

Let’s begin at my entrance into this world. I know that I was there, but the fact that I was being born at the time should make clear the point that I actually had no idea what was actually going on in a realistically conscious sense. However, spiritually I must say that I very well may have known what was happening at the time, because all things work together for the good – right?

Okay. Long story short, I was not even supposed to be born because as my mother (R.I.P. Momma!) stated years ago that despite being under somewhat heavy sedation due to pre-natal distress, she could hear the doctor saying what a shame it was to have to ‘let the baby go’ in order to save the mother who had four other children to raise and that it was the best decision that he could make given the situation. He had decided that it would make more sense to save the mother of this unborn child who just happened to far exceed the birth weight that mother was able to accommodate (as never having had a baby over five pounds due to some other issue) instead of saving the baby and leaving the father with four children to raise by himself while having to work to take care of them at the same time.

This was not a common deal back in November of 1970, so the doctor stated that the child would have to be aborted immediately as a result of being too large to even attempt the journey through my mother’s severely and insufficiently capacious birth canal. For some reason, there was no time for an emergency C-section which has become the savior of today’s distressed births. I am not sure if there were no epidurals back then or what – I just remember Momma saying that time had run out and there was no other choice but to inevitably abort.

Keeping in mind that I was a rather sneaky kid who did not always follow the golden rule of actually leaving the room when ‘grown folks’ were talking, I could overhear the discussion one night as Momma and whoever company was (probably her sisters who were all in agreement that this was one of the most frightening times of their own lives) reminisced over the situation some odd years later. I will never forget how badly I regretted being a master eavesdropper that night which in turn caused me to obey that golden rule from then on…mostly anyway.

She then began to describe what she was thinking (while under) about how her precious baby would die and how devastated she would be afterwards. The next statements really threw me for a loop as she spoke about how she heard a ‘voice’ telling her to push regardless of the fact that she had already heard her OBGYN say that she would die upon giving birth.  The story went on to describe how my mom felt herself tearing as I came out while the doctor and his crew frantically rushed to prepare themselves for this shocking change in plans while also readying themselves to inform my dad of the deaths that were definitely in store. She said that she knew that I was here when she realized that she had totally ‘come apart’ while the staff took care of a perfectly healthy baby just before performing  a very intricate re-constructive surgery in order to try to get her back to somewhat normal. As a result, the next baby that was born into our family, Mom ended up having a scheduled C-section five years later because a regular birth was completely out of the question.

Anyway, Momma went on to describe an incident where she mentioned ‘hemorrhaging’ which could not have been good due to the fact that she said that she collapsed and was rushed back to the hospital for however long – me at the age of a few days, she had to depend on sisters to take care of the baby and the other kids while Dad worked. Apparently someone stayed at the house with us while Mom was in the hospital – I don’t remember who, but I did have some siblings who were old enough to help out.

Somehow, Momma came back home, healed, and went back to her normal mothering, cooking, taking care of home, and being the best mother that anyone could ever ask for. She attributes us making it through that ordeal strictly to God because of that voice along with the rest of the miraculous events such as her very survival. She told everyone that I was her ‘miracle child’. Though I had no idea of how to live up to that name, I tried my best although I’m sure that I didn’t do so well along the way years after, but that is my first reason for my undying faith.

The next comes from a regular doctor’s visit to my pediatrician at around the age of seven. They found a problem with my heart. Irregular beat, murmur, and after several abnormal EKGs and ultrasounds, I would need open heart surgery to correct the problem. Now, the final decision was made around the age of eleven because I was still going to my original pediatrician for some years before the problem was officially diagnosed. I cannot remember the actual name of the problem, but it was there – found by the new doctor and the specialist that he referred us to. Something about a blocked valve is all that I can really remember.

I find it strange how I can remember some things just a little bit while others as if it were yesterday, but I do remember my mom on the phone with church members and relatives speaking about them all planning to pray at certain times of the day. One day in particular, she was on the phone while ironing everyone’s clothes for the week. We were in hers and Dad’s bedroom, when I suddenly stopped paying attention to what was on TV. I saw a  little lady (that is how I remember it) appear right in front of me, bathed in white and light. Mom was talking about how they were keeping up with their prayers and how she would NOT lose me after all that it took to bring me into this world when the little lady smiled at me. We did not speak, but I knew what she was saying as she and I- apparently (as I know now), communicating telepathically. My mom had no idea of what was going on with me while this was happening and I didn’t mention it until much later.

I can distinctly remember having no fear of dying which I knew would surely happen if I had the surgery. The little lady told me that there was nothing to fear and I told her that I didn’t want to die because it would hurt my whole family and they would be crying. First of all, I could never stand the thought of either of my parents crying, but after all – I was the ‘miracle child’.  All of this was happening with no one talking except my mom and whoever she was on the phone with. The lady bathed in white and light said that great was my faith and love, so all that I needed to do was to pray for my friend. I would live and not die (she shook her head – no), but I would have some sadness in my life although I would get through that also. Little sparks of light went from her and landed on me as I accepted what she said, somehow knowing the ‘friend’ that she implied. It is still funny now how I felt that day, seeing the peace, joy, and unconditional love that I would experience, but choosing to stay put because I pretty much had it already.  The little lady thanked me and disappeared. I felt a calm as my mom hung up the phone.

She had been talking to the Avon lady who had a daughter that had become quite close to me over time. She had been scheduled to go in for the exact same surgery  that I was, but my mom and our church were praying for her too!

I said my prayer for my friend. A couple of years later in our pre-teens Taska (my friend) had gone through the same surgery that I was supposed to have had, but didn’t after the doctors could NOT find the problem that they had seen before, (believe me, they looked for it) but miraculously, it was no longer there. I could now join the marching band with no worries, and the day that Taska and her mother came to visit, I was ecstatic! She showed me her zipper just before we discovered that she also had become a flute player in her high school’s band. (There was no middle school back then) – We watched our mothers cry in relief while praising that same God that had seen fit to bring me into this world, I guess for the very purpose of being living proof that faith in Him does pay off.

I have seen many other miracles happen to others in my life…things that you would probably say are a coincidence or maybe you would even say that it didn’t even happen, but I would not be writing this if it hadn’t. I don’t knock what anyone believes and I don’t accept being knocked either, so what  happened – happened, and I am proud to say that it did. Life was different then, and today as a real-life non-church going yet full-fledged believing Christian, (I have changed my views on some things over time and I do not attribute my outcome to ‘church’ but faith), I can honestly say that… with all of this being said and much more to come…

I will never lose my faith in God.

By the way, my birth weight was 8’11!

Thanks for reading!

Aside

May 1, 2013 Blog Dare Prompt – Each Time That I am About to Accomplish Something…

education

education (Photo credit: Sean MacEntee)

I seem to get sidetracked by something else – totally!  I mean, seriously…I can be dead set on starting one type of project or another when something happens to stop me. Usually it is something  at home that needs to be dealt with immediately, and there goes my little project. It is not that I don’t plan well or that I simply do not possess the quality characteristic of being consistent, (though there is much room for improvement), things just happen this way for me. As a matter of fact, it doesn’t even have to be a an actual ‘project’ such as writing a new poem or post for my blog, nor does it have to be an actual home emergency – just regular stuff…whatever that is –  although this is the case a lot of the time. To put it plainly, it could be something as simple as planning dinner for the day, so I will use this common task as my ‘for instance’ in order to ultimately reach the main point of the actual gist of this post. For example, let’s just say that my plan for the day is to have dinner done before three o’clock so it will be ready by the time my husband gets home and I can be doing something else (like being here on the blog), get the laundry done, and maybe use my ‘break time’ between these chores to at least begin a new blog post. While separating the colors from the whites, my youngest will begin his daily campaign for snacks. All of this usually takes place after he has finished his mom-given daily educational online exercises followed by a nice session of Roblox gaming, and it is time for him to turn the desktop over to his big brother (6-yrs old). Herein lies the catch to feigned hunger.

This is a logo for Roblox.

This is a logo for Roblox. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I always give them breakfast first thing in the morning  and I make sure to give them a small snack a couple of hours later, so this young man is asking for snacks over what he has already been given. I can’t help but wonder if he is going through a growth spurt or something, because his appetite has been quite ravenous lately. It is as if I haven’t given him anything to eat since the day began, and when he gets this way, it can be just a tad annoying. I apparently am not able to sufficiently feed my rambunctious little lad of four years , because he is always sneaking into the fridge and upon being caught, he will continue to act as if I have given him the thumbs up as he pulls out turkey slices and cheese to make wraps or either a sandwich for himself. To give credit where it is due, he does have the common courtesy to also offer to whip up a snack for his siblings. He waits patiently for me to either give in or go off the deep end before attempting to continue on with his adorably manipulative ploy.

Now, I have always taught my children to speak their minds and to be clear on the points that they are trying to make…I guess maybe he took in this teaching a little too well. Persistent is an understatement when it comes to this kid with his constant questions of why it is not time for the snack, when he can have the snack and of course what time will it be when I make the snack. This array of questions will undoubtedly go on until I am finally able to make it stop. I consider it a plus that he usually knows when he has hit that last nerve and will sometimes cease the onslaught all on his own, but depending on the time, I will either leave the laundry and make snacks for all three of the kids, or give the youngest some age appropriate  educational tasks until snack/lunch time finally comes.

Needless to say, I have now been put back on the laundry, so as I am frantically trying to get that done, the day has practically gone by and guess what – I haven’t even thawed out the meat for dinner! I have completely forgotten that I was even supposed to me making dinner…at least until I hear the low growl coming from my own empty belly. Sooo, I end up moving backwards to get everything done while pecking away periodically at the keyboard for a quick post, much like I am doing now.

With clothes in the washer and a family pack of wings or thighs in the microwave on compu-defrost, I manage to get a paragraph or two in before it is time to transfer the clothes from the washer to the dryer before starting another load. (I am very seldom granted enough mercy to have only one load a day)…The chicken is still not thawed, so I take care of that while simultaneously fussing about the kids cleaning up various messes that have been made while I was trapped in the washroom with the clothes. Soon after, the cycle of snack propositions, a variety of ‘no’ answers, more 4-year-old geared educational occupying tactics, and keyboard pecking takes place before I am finally able to put dinner on well after three.

An attractive dinner setting

An attractive dinner setting (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My husband walks through the front door to receive his daily greeting of jumps, hugs and kisses (I call it a physical attack) from the kids who are extremely happy to see him as if he has been gone for weeks before he asks what smells so good and when will it be ready. Just for the record, he is asking about the chicken baking in the oven and not me. My reply as usual, “When it’s done dude.” We both smile as he walks out the back door to feed the dogs and scoop poop while I try to remember to make sure that the house doesn’t burn down in the unfortunate case that I forget that I am cooking.

The day always (for the most part) ends with us all having a nicely non-burnt dinner, last clean-up and baths before bedtime, and even more typing before sleep overtakes us all. It was a good day. We have leftovers for the next day which will give me a little time to work on my post, yay! I made it once again despite being sidetracked into that abysmal pool of distracting forgetfulness due to well – you know.

My goal is to one day have myself as well as the kids on a ‘schedule’, but in the meantime what I have just described is an actual typical day in my household. I purposefully left out cleaning the house, making sure that the kids are getting their schoolwork done, answering a phone that never stops ringing, along with repeatedly changing my clothes to accommodate my daily dose of hot and cold flash turbulence…basically in order to explain my situation using a single set of scenarios. I had to do it this way because otherwise I would surely have found myself once again – sidetracked!

Despite all of the above, I have been used to things working this way for me for so long that while I am aware that this is not what most would call ‘normal’, it happens to be the norm for me until one day by some miracle, things change. If not, well…I am pretty much conditioned to having my last nerved jumped on, dealing with several worrisome situations at one time, and pretty much forgetting the rest until I finally remember it –  which on occasion is the next day or so. This no longer bothers me to a point where I want to pull my hair out, however it is still a bit annoying especially when I have veered so far off from my initial plan of whatever it was that I intended to do in the first place. Though I really could benefit from ‘having it another way’, I must accept it for what it is, embrace it, and move on because it is what it is and we are what we are. Just in case ‘we are’ as crazy as I think, I embrace that also – it is ‘our crazy’, and despite the unending annoyances, I love it!

housekeeping

housekeeping (Photo credit: pucci.it)

The one thing that I would never trade in or change is my group of three overly energetic yet exceptionally bright children. Oh yeah, I wouldn’t change the hub either, hahahahaha!! They all are my reason for living and my inspiration for wanting to do things that I have never done or thought that I would be able to do.

Just think of how this story would have turned out if I had actually added details concerning my six and twelve-year-old! I will have to save them for future posts, because I would never finish this one otherwise.

In a nutshell, each time that I am about to accomplish something… life happens.

Aside

Poem #26 – Watercolors

I didn’t really follow the ‘color’ writing prompt for day 28 as this is my #26 poem, although the prompt did help to give me an idea of something to quickly put together. I have 3 more to go so I don’t see this as anything too special. Just a poem…the colors are mere adjectives. Here goes.

 

The rhythmic tap of my steps along the brown cobble stones

Is soon smothered by gray showers in a rage, pouring…

As transparent winds distort and dishevel

My scarf, now moved about my face, thunder is roaring

Wet dark golden highlighted hair out-of-place, despite being cut short

I attempt to accelerate my pace

To no avail – I am stopped in my tracks

Shocked by silver lightening’s flash just beyond the gate

I am frozen by the sound and sight as it cracks

As if humbly bowing, yellow buttercups bend

Under the force of hard rains

Nearly floating out of allotted spaces, around them puddles spin

Purple skies looming above, tan pumps below wearing mud stains

At last, my destination is reached as the atmosphere turns black

While turning my silver key to the left

I am greeted by mahogany stained walls, gleaming with shellac

Safely inside from the storm, in a home that is well-kept

A lavender salts bath warms my bones as I soak

Doing away with sheer chills

My favorite pea green blanket lies in wait, around my shoulders to cloak

The sky of my dreams shall be azure with great puffs of white, red birds, and endless green hills

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aside

Poem #5 – The Fog

The sun hides behind the clouds

I have not seen a fog so thick in years

Though I can see clearly in front of me

I wonder if my brain still resides behind my ears

 

I yell to my family that dinner will be ready soon

Baked chicken and sautéed veggies covered in melted provolone

Just as I am ready to set the table

I realize that I never turned the oven on

 

Relaxing on my sofa, I see that nothing good is on the tube

Maybe now I can finish the novel that I started on last week

But as I make my way down the hall and open my bedroom door

I have absolutely no idea of what it was that I intended  to seek

 

I know full well that my brain still exists

It still resides exactly where it was yesterday

Hopefully tomorrow will be somewhat clearer

As I walk through the fog that is changing my life’s way

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aside

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