Yellow Butterfly/A true story

That love of mine

he loved the butterflies

floating off to the other side

that love of mine

was trying so hard

to get his wings

and in the months later

I kept asking why
why my love wouldn’t tell me bye

was there nothing for me
and I kept looking for my butterflies

that love of mine

Walking along the side

and there was this yellow butterfly

working its way across the concrete

crippling along it’s way

I let him in my hand
and cried about what to do

where to place him for his quiet struggle

and like a miracle he took off

in some beautiful flight

oh… I remembered

and laughed for the free light

of those yellow wings

that love of mine

he loved butterflies

and talked about the next turn

the next life

the next flight

and so my love flew

but not before being in my hand
and thanking me

for the lift

on the next flight…

 

love song for God my creator

In my darker moments

it times of anxiety and despair

In my loneliness

exhausted anguish

My God remembers me

if He does with the birds

that land in the trees

So He does

He does with me

In the nights that get to quiet

when my soul cries for steadiness

unknown

My spirit reaches

the deep to the deep

Trust me

with your time

your gifts

your loves

your hopes dreams or just wish

the authorities

and darkness of this world

can never hold my kind of free

I sit in the hands of my creator

who has never forgotten me

The angers stirring their own kinds of war

shall not phase me

I take no part in Babylons whore

For I know who has made me

what He’s given me

and how He’s saved me

The chess pieces playing their turns

beckon for my hand

both sides revealing in part

while each player hides their own monsters

all players darkened in their hearts

shells of people

inhabited by what they’ve sold out for

Redefining their own creations

and natural rules about life

calling love and tolerance

what I call confusions and strife

distracting with talks about self made stars

and feelings and pseudo realities

Like I should be impressed..

But I’m a woman

human created by God
and

I’m no part of the game anymore

Resettling ,breathing in

My peace

My free

I trust my creator

with me

 
“do not fear what they fear, nor be in dread.”-Isaiah 8:12

Let your gentle spirit be known to all men. The Lord is near.Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things. The things you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you.”-Phillipians 4:5-9
psalm

 

 

I remembered something 

When I was thinking about you

Wherever you are 

I’m sure you remember too

And whatever’s whatever

In whatever is is

Those present moments

Of presence presents to give

Where life and alive gives

And gives

Sometimes those memories

In early mornings

Meet me with a kiss

That sparkle it comes with the wind

And I know

You know 

Those secret times

Of played out realities

And collaborated rhymes

Yes maybe they had their times

But what is time anyway

Just a recording of places

That energies won’t erase

I remembered something

Again 

In all our somethings

Of sparkle

And shine

That was so bright in our alives

Through that space

And through that time 

Keep Your Alive

Taking time and time taking me

clinging so hard to what just wants to be free

knew I couldn’t hold on forever

but we’re never ready to let go

even when we say we are

even when we plan the parting

So I opened gifts given by associations

and sat in the shadows cast by memories

felt sparkles filling those hollows

like the feelings diamonds have

when the light hits their faces

That burning and life says

keep your alive, alive

keep your shine, shining

see that, see that

that power in you

that sparkle that sparkles

its so so sweet

where magic and intentions

something about being alive and just being meet.

Sitting in the leftover of eternal memory

Feeling the gifts that memories bring

hearing anecdotes and inflections

of voices and conversations

bringing at the right moments

lessons and times

that were yours and were mine

no matter what the explanations

no matter the write offs

or miscommunication

some things can’t be undone

and some things shouldn’t be

Remembering the sparkle

starts to shine in the void

like the feelings diamonds have

when the light hits their faces

That burning and life says

keep your alive, alive

keep your shine, shining

see that, see that

that power in you

that sparkle that sparkles

its so so sweet

it’s yours to keep

 

sparkle

Run

and She woke at some five in the morning
realizing the personal loss

Of 
those conversations that could never be had

with someone who would never understand

whether drunk or sober

heavy or light

angry or stable

left or right

in those tears of unwinding

And fierce cries in the night

From repressed visions

And liberated art shows for one man

whether plays of the sexes

or psychological unties

Boundaries we cross

Sounds of Breaking free

Sounds of Breaking time

Either way

She was never going to hear them again

so the mare stares at her old gateways
trying to decide

should she just run free alone

or go back to rails

and security

knowing those times and memories

will never be the forever

that set her free

he that opened her gate…man

he let her be
he set her free

then he left her alone
to tame her own fires

and be her own song

and she woke at some five in the morning
feeling that loss

and who would understand

except that type of woman

to that kind of man

and only the tears that cry for no reasons
running traces that burn

explanations that explain
but never learn

so the mare stares at her old gateways
trying to decide

whether to keep running

or to hide

To All the Men I’ve Loved

To all the men I’ve loved. Because love is a complex things and there are many different levels, or kinds of love.

To my father, my first love. Thank you for calling me a princess so I’ve never forgotten my place in the world. Thank you for passing on your genes of being hard headed and stubborn, which has gotten me far in this world as a single female. Thank you for making me paranoid, yes even that thing that many may fault their parents for, I thank you for making me paranoid about the intentions of men. I know for a fact it has kept me in check and superseded what could have been fatal attractions. Everyone has dad issues, or parent issues, but overall…you were one of the good ones. Even with your issues. I miss you.

To my Grandfather. The only Grandfather I knew. Thank you for your dramatic, impromptu and inappropriate humor. For your debonair suave. For your love of reading, which was passed on to my mother. For your switch turn anger that scared me to death as a child, yet I recognize in men now and wont tolerate. Thank you for doting on my grandmother and for epitomizing all that is great in young to old sweethearts. Thank you for demonstrating  in your family, the art of gifting. Miss you, Grandaddy.

To my favorite uncles on both sides of the family. To my uncle on my dads side, with your righteous anger that actually was wholeheartedly unrighteous and I would never have actually agreed with you on, man you had tenacity. Thanks for being proactive in researching genealogy, I’m inspired to do that with the other side of the family. I always admired the nieces that came from you, who led their lives in such a strong manner. You may have had your angering prejudices. Your biases and weaknesses to and for the opposite sex, but to me you were a veteran and older bad boy of the family. Maybe the archetype of men I loved in the future. And your carpentry skills, why don’t men create anymore? I miss you too.

To my favorite uncle on my mothers side, my uncle who played with me as a toddler, under tables. Who did magic tricks with me and my brothers until we were old enough to know better but you made it so convincing, thanks for always being magical. For being cool and for being the humble favorite. I’m forever scarred and ruined by men with motor oil under their fingers…Who love to get in engines and see how they work. Who can fix the car or tell you whats wrong with it. Yeah, I see you in everyday mechanics. Whenever I see them.
 

To my second Uncle on my mothers side. Thanks for caring enough to tell the truth. Because you know you are right. Because you know the facts. Because you love to research. Because you care. Thanks for being suspicious and inquisitive. Thanks for making me question everything.

You two are the standard I hold all men to.

To my ex husband. You got me at a very green age. You were older and seemed so much more experienced and educated. You weren’t. You just seemed that way. Ultimately you were just as green as I. You taught me to be tougher than I should have had to be, You taught me to see when I was being lied to. You taught me to spot an insecure man, who despite being talented, would never allow himself to reach very far. You taught me to take what all the other men had taught me and use it. I had to, in order to mentally survive you. I may be fifty percent of why we failed, but I don’t miss you.

To my pastor and stepfather. Thank you for showing me that there are educated men who admire women physically and mentally. Who want their partners to excel in life and succeed in their dreams. Thank you for the counseling and advice, and guidance. I may not be getting my Masters if it were not for you.

To my best friend. Thanks for proving that yes, a woman can sleep in the room next to a man a that man not try to jump her bones. Thank you for being present and willing to help in so many situations. Thank you for seeing me at my worst. Thank you for the willingness to attempt to be a balanced view point. At your worst and your best you have always been consistent. I owe my best self to you. One day I might be able to give that.

Lastly…
To the man who saw what no one else would call out. The lover to the wild in me, thank you for giving me the space to run free. Thank you for making me speak my own thoughts and teaching me how to articulate my own mind and need. Thank you for letting me in your world and for coming into mine. Thank you for honoring our disagreements and for touching me so deeply. There is nothing I will ever write that I cannot thank you for. Because you were the first man to call me a writer. I love you, I miss you. Thank you ..
Thank you all.

menshands

 

The Other American Privilege

American Privilege

Like any other privilege

We say what we want in our safe circles

and criticize who we want outside of them

American Privilege

To scrutinize, demonize and hate
one side for their beliefs, their upbringing and views

while hiding behind keyboards

pens and politically sanctioned opinion
a safe space in another kind of church
just another form of beliefs, or upbringings, or views

American Privilege

having so much opportunity
so much grace

and Lord knows forgiveness

forgiveness for centuries of wayward ways

yet not forgiving each others

finding different ways to blame

American Privileged female

gets to act just like a man

American privileged  male

can change to a woman

American privileged teens

can read and write and learn the word objective but not what means
can grow up
blaming society
their peers
their parents
their grandparents
or their cotton candy wasted years

American Privilege
the privilege to learn all you can
and use it against those you love
and from the land you came

American Privilege
the privilege to say what you want
and kill with your words
to hate business
though it paid your taxes
to hate religion
though it taught you not to steal
to hate hate
but instill it in your soul
regulate perception of hate
same way some regulates perception of morality

its all about control

American Privilege

The privilege to come and become
to be better
to raise your kids as you see fit

and

not under any tyrannical governance
only to watch them grow, in a society so free

that they are free
to turn their backs on all that made it to be

Privileged to not know any worse off
Privileged to not grow up hearing from Russian immigrants
or orphans from Ukraine

To partake of immigrants wares

but never asked why those people came
privileged to use technology from entrepreneurs
to voice their disdain with their privileged free society
to boycott Israel
to stomp on the flag
to vote socialist

because Denmark is doing oh so well

and Reagan spent his life eating jelly beans and laughing about his privilege
envisioning a future of spoiled privileged kids
pretending to be adults
and lazily posting rhetoric about an overused words.

Privileged to abuse your freedom of responsibility
Privileged to be to ignorant to count the cost
Privileged to make the gamble
Privileged to be ignorant to the cost

fic-amrk

Authors Note: Please don’t use your privilege to to assault this post. As of now this is still a free forum, and there are no “safe spaces” here. Also let it be said, that this is not an attack on any candidate,as they all have socialist tendencies (even Trump with his desire to expand the spying state with regulations on free speech) and America has been incorporating these tendencies and regulations for years. That being said, if anyone thinks that voting in socialism will help matters, they are blind to the socialism already here. Be objective and think outside what your circles and professors tell you. Find an immigrant from a socialist country. They are everywhere. Get off Facebook and get to know your country.  Peace