There’s a Silver Lining Here Somewhere

Picture from Bing Photos Public Domain; Quote by Don Marquis

Picture from Bing Photos Public Domain; Quote by Don Marquis

I feel cut loose
when things get
uncomfortable or
maybe I get too
close. My happy
mood is now
by wondering
I stand. Cryptic
messages cloud
the joy I once felt.

I used to turn the
blame to myself
so readily…no more.

Join us at dVerse Poets where Kim Russell presents our Quadrille Monday for us.  Head over there to learn the details; the doors open at 3PM EST.

Lesson Learned (But it Felt Like a Waste)

What a waste, I set myself up for pain,
waiting my entire life for a repentant word.
Lips grew tighter and inhumane.

And no, you couldn’t deign
remorse even when not slurred.
What a waste, I set myself up for pain.

Making gestures disguised and feigned
as regret didn’t fool me, it was absurd;
lips grew tighter and inhumane.

A study of your behavior was arcane,
the good and bad I saw in you was blurred.
What a waste; I set myself up for pain.

At the end, waiting still to claim
an apology for years of being spurred,
lips grew tighter and inhumane.

Ah well, a lesson did I manage to obtain,
to my own self make whole is preferred.
What a waste, I set myself up for pain,
waiting my entire life for a repentant word.

Claudia is our hostess at dVerse Open Link Night and encourages us to write with passion…if not technical perfection. I do try!

The Truce

A husband had come between us…
an angry, arrogant, insecure husband
who demanded control…and ordered
me to choose…it’s your sister or me.

I still thought he knew best…I was
standing beside him…he was
right after all…she had disrespected him…
right?  I chose him…as his wife it was my duty.

No longer welcome in our home…her
overtures of apologies…deemed insincere…by him.

But I grieved, I obsessed…it didn’t feel right.
I love her…he’s wrong…taking this too far.
One night I spoke to her, in defiance, it was
the breakthrough I needed to finally see
the light.  His abusive behavior and
control over me was sick and twisted…
he was wreaking my soul.  It was the
middle of the end of a sham of a marriage.

I later went to my sister, who was so hurt
and betrayed and asked for forgiveness…
I’ll do whatever it takes.  I’m here to listen;
I’ll take your hurt and anger.  I love you
dearly…we’ll work this out.

A healing began, a truce and understanding.
I still have my sister…the husband…no armistice day.


Manicddaily (Karin Gustafson) puts forth the idea of peace making today over at dVerse Poets:

When Young

Photo by Bomobob:  Google Images

When young though ripe for summer’s love of you
Love threw its net enclosing round me fast
Long, golden days spent wading in the blue
While thoughts made blind to what the day had cast

From afar I tracked your every move
With eyes glazed warm laid on your fairest face
Just one, small glance from you, what would this prove
Alone am I within this love’s embrace

But by the near of summer’s glowing wane
My heart grew calm and thoughts changed into fall
Autumn’s shift did cool love’s hot refrain and
With passing days became a faint recall

So if absorbed in love’s consumed engross
A season’s span can bring it to a close

Oh, no, I’m quaking in my boots, Gay instructs us on sonnets today over at dVerse Poets Form For All!  I’m afraid it’s another “Not a Sonnet” for me…sigh…:

Sharing this with Poets United today:


Photo:  Google Images

one love was dead
then I met you
resurgence of feelings
brought me to life
my nerves were shot
from stress and strain
but my soul was soothed
when you hugged me tight
you listened, you cared
and heeded my boundaries
respecting my need to
take things slowly
but I surprised myself
when I made the move
to take things further
I wanted you
no longer caring
no longer enabled
to something dead,
hurtful, despairing
my beliefs changed
during that time,
we’re not intended to
remain wedded to strife
so onward I soared
leaving madness behind
traveling happier
becoming mine

Brian Miller invites us to tell ‘his’tory/’her’story over at dVerse Poets.   Revisit a time in our history and share a story.

It’s Cold

It’s cold tonight and your
warmth’s gone missing.
Your eyes have an
emptiness, your
heart’s not in them.
I’ve felt the gap
increasing the distance.
Just a short time now
that our connection’s
been slipping.
Sharp pain snaps when
the realization is grasped.
Your presence dissipating,
scattering, spreading thin.
I know, it’s clear, I need to let go.
I need to be free of the knots
(in my gut)
of believing that which
is no longer true.
We both deserve someone
who will warm at our sight,
happy to hold us with
love in their eyes
without hindrance or
distractions between
our two hearts.
Goodbye then,
take care.
I wish you well.
But I’ll need
time to recover
from the

Flash and Bull

I bit off more than I could chew
when I met you.  Your syrupy
tongue soon turned harsh and bitter.
I give up, you’ve won,
now let me walk away clean.
I should have known;
you were too good to be true.

All flash and bull
you caught my attention
but I fault myself
for being reeled.
You were out there
fishing with smooth,
cold cunning.  I was
naïve and trusting,
didn’t see the hook coming. 

Outward appearance
all cool and fun
but in the eleventh
hour, I cut and run.

Mean and high-handed,
but held me to blame,
your delusional rants
brought me shame.
Cutting me down,
(I fell to my knees),
planting doubts,
creating destruction. 

Your madness a loose cannon,
unchecked, unstable.
I’m no longer willing,
to be your mark,
my turning back is the end of this story.

It’s all about you.
It’s all about you. 

I bit off more than I could chew
when I met you.  Your syrupy
tongue soon turned harsh and bitter.
I give up, you’ve won,
now let me walk away clean.
I should have known;
you were too good to be true.

Packing up my splintered but mending heart
I’m keeping it safe from the likes of you.
Sometimes we need to know
when to close an open door.

Out of Touch

                                  Image by Serolta Ban

in his mind, he had made
her bigger than life
he put her on a pedestal
until she had grown so
unattainable that even he
couldn’t touch her 

now, she remained out
of his reach, forever a
figment of his
imagination, and
no one else
would ever
come close
to meeting
her standards

Mag 107:

Thank You, But No

Just Say No

Image by donnamarijne via Flickr

Thank you, but no.

I will no longer read your letters

nor will I listen to your voice.

Goodbye has been said.

Overflowing are my head and heart

of the words you’ve spoken that pierced them both.

So long, too long, I listened and heard

the rantings and manipulation you spewed forth

lectures really–of your ideas and defenses.

Too long, so long, you tried to convince me

that I was wrong and mistaken in my thinking.

Words were twisted and used against me.

Trust and faith were tools of your trade,

but they were mine that you took and

carelessly mishandled.

Delicate and sacred, I gifted them to you,

but they were not valued nor kept secure.

I hadn’t noticed when our passion ignited

that you were unbalanced and suffering then.

I looked ouside and didn’t see clearly,

instead of noticing my reality within.

Young lust had won out.

I had to learn,

a lesson of self worth;

it sure was hard won.

But now I can say,

Thank you, but no.

My entry to dVerse Poets, Open Link Night:

I See In You


You take my hand

I’ll take yours

Linked together

Our affection grows

I see in you

Your purest soul

A casted smile

Puts a glow inside

Your devotion for me

Affects me deep

My entry for Sunday’s 160 with Monkey Man:


Saatchi Gallery - Young & Old

She was a sweet and tender child and wise beyond her years, already knowing the importance of connection to others. Her delicate features, with excitement-blushed cheeks and bright, curious blue eyes made her sensitivity even more apparent.  Innocent, rosebud lips finished off the charm.  Long, honey-colored hair, worn parted in the middle, fell past her shoulders and hung straight and loose, complementing her slight frame.  She was prone to brushing straggles of hair out of her eyes when it was worn down this way. Along with her favorite pink suede cowboy boots, her mother had allowed her to pick out the multi-tiered, purple, gray and white skirt that she loved.  Her brown corduroy jacket topped it off because of the chill in the air.  A tiny dab of her mother’s Shalimar perfume behind her ears made her feel extra special.  The mild amber fragrance created a subtle aura around her.  They were off to visit Pa-pa today.

She was only six but loved her Pa-pa devotedly.  They had come for a visit today to the nursing home where he now resided.

His head hung slightly down as he sat in his motorized wheelchair, impeccably dressed in his black pin-stripe suit with pristine and starched, long sleeved white shirt and boldly striped tie.  Still after all of these years, his black leather shoes were polished to a high gleam–important when callers came.  His tall stature was evident even though he was sitting.  His snow white hair and beard intrigued her and his wild, wooly eyebrows made her giggle.  His aged face was speckled with numerous sunspots and the lines of years of hard work raising a family, ill health and losing his wife two years prior.  A silver band still worn on his finger signified their long union.  She loved to examine his elderly face and look into his wise eyes that still cheered up when he caught sight of her.

He offered her a peppermint from his pocket–he always smelled of peppermint and Old Spice aftershave.  She ate the candy immediately–feeling the sensation of the cooling mint in her mouth–savoring it slowly.

She made sure his hearing aids were still lodged gently in his ears and brought him a pair of scissors he had requested that he used to cut the tags off the gift he had ready for her.  It was a stuffed black and white striped zebra.   She clutched the toy, her small hand encircling its body, feeling quietly delighted at the surprise.

She thanked him, speaking up as she knew to do, so he could hear her clearly.  He hugged her gently and smiled, his voice a gravelly rasp, responded to her; “I love you.”

Monday Morning Writing Prompt:  Description;

Baptismal Awakening

Here’s a dream I had many years ago when I was still married.  I started having all these dreams towards the end of our marriage that were very blatantly letting me know what I already knew was true about him.  I wrote many down because they stayed in my mind so vividly:

My husband and I had gone to this building where we were looking for postings on activities around the community.  It appeared to be a church.  Then, I found myself sweeping the floor in the room where we had entered.  There was a smaller room off of this main room and I went to sweep in there.  I saw three steps leading down into this area which reminded me of a baptismal room.  I decided to sweep down in the space below and as I go to jump down in it, I immediately realize that it is extremely deep and I will die if I fall all the way in.  So as I leap, I catch myself and am holding on with my arms while my toes are pressed tightly against the inside wall holding myself up.  I begin yelling for help–for my husband to come help me.  I yell and yell and he doesn’t come.  Finally, he appears and I say get some rope or something to get me out of here–I need your help.  Instead of helping me, he sits down by my head–where I’m desperately clutching onto the edge and he quietly (patronizingly) says to me– if you would just give it some thought you could figure out how to get out of this predicament.  I instantly felt this flash of anger and thought to myself–“fuck it” and with a great, heaving push I was able to pull myself to safety.  I then found myself at the top of the steps and my husband was holding me while I cried.  I was crying because I didn’t want anyone else to fall in there and feel the fear and helplessness that I had.  My feeling towards my husband was neutral.  I wasn’t comforted by his presence.

Entry for Monday Morning Writing Prompt-Dream Symbolism:

Walking Away

At first all I felt was just a pinch or two

perhaps likened to an itch upon my foot.

Then a vague uncertainty arose as the sting grew worse.

Words were spoken to confuse me, demeaning my worth

  But he’s right, I’m wrong, it’s all meant for my benefit.

 I became expert at shoving those doubts aside,

and not wanting to notice them as the years rolled by.

But my insides knew something was drastically wrong,

an insidious pall was taking over my heart.

 The atmosphere of our life grew pervasively ill.

 I started to decline; my head grew heavy;

my mind was being manipulated by a calculating crazy.

I grew worrisome and anxious–what was the truth?

My body knew the answer but my mind wouldn’t follow suit.


 Eventually I woke up–I faced it at last, the sober reality was that I had to get out.

You’ll never make it without me, was his shout as I walked out the door.

But the freedom and confidence I felt was no illusion,

There’s no one outside of me making my decisions.

Monday’s Poetry Potluck:  Doubts, Fear, Inhibitions and Hesitations;


We still liked to walk together and explore the woods nearby,

even though a dissonant distance had now grown between us.

Our walk this day was much like the others, making observations

of the direction our pathway may take.

Across the trail we pushed through tangled brush and eye-level

tree limbs and soon came upon a small but steep incline.

You climbed up before me, and I behind, reached up to take your hand;

You declined.

An entry for dVerse Poets Open Link Night ~Week 73 hosted by Tashtoo:

I’m Angry

Angry Talk (Comic Style)

Image via Wikipedia

I’m feeling angry and

my heartbeat is racing.

My blood is heated

and my ego is squirming.

I’m frustrated and mad

and feeling so sad

that I’ve fallen into

this behavior again.

I can’t seem to break

this habit of mine

that keeps me locked

tight and feeling unkind.

The words that heatedly cut,

come spewing forth.  And the

look on the face staring

back at me shows a

soul that’s in pain from

the discord he heard.

But even as I write that

I know it’s not true–our

souls are untainted and free;

it’s our egos that create

the sorrow we accrue

and bring us this karmic state.

It doesn’t mean that I’m

off the hook, as our egos

play tit-for-tat, but I want

to learn to be calm and steady

no matter the trying condition.

Open Link Night at dVerse Poets:

An Awful Buzz in the Everglades

It was almost a year ago that Tom and I set out for the first “whole-week” vacation I had ever taken.

We were headed for the West Coast of Florida–beautiful Naples.  We had reservations at a lovely, single-story condo, with pool and Jacuzzi, not far from downtown and the beach.

We really didn’t have much of an agenda, just relaxing and seeing some sights.  My Dad had told us of a park in the Everglades to visit.  So we made a mental note to check it out.

In the meantime, we did manage to take a tour of the Thomas Edison-Henry Ford compounds and saw the amazing and immense “walking” Banyan tree that had spread across acres and acres of the property.  We walked the grounds that had plant species brought in from throughout the world.

One of the most awe-inspiring experiences I’ve ever had occurred one late afternoon as Tom and I walked along the beach.  As we looked along the shoreline–I am always looking for shells and other treasures–Tom, who had stepped out into the sparkling, clear water of the Gulf, suddenly pointed out a large, six-legged starfish, and then another and another!  There were thousands of starfish just a few feet from the edge of the beach.  We walked on and on, and there were more and more starfish.  We were stunned and thrilled to witness such an incredible scene.  And we saw Brown Pelicans perched by the dozens in the Pine trees that lined up along the dunes “yakking” loudly.

Another day on the beach, we came upon hundreds and hundreds of stingrays!  The tips of their small “wings” broke the water as they swam along.  We stopped and spoke to a local woman who said she has walked the beach for years and she had never seen anything like it.

Wow!  What a show!

But our singularly most memorable day was when we went to explore that park my Dad had mentioned.  I had never been to the Everglades.  I was excited at the prospect of what I might find.

So we took off and were soon nearing our destination.  We came upon some water that ran alongside the highway with a gravelly, rocky beach and even an inviting picnic table.  I suggested we pull over and walk down to the water.  Sure, it would be fun.

We got out of the car, and Tom picked his way carefully over the sharp, jutting rocks to the edge of the water; I was not far behind.

Suddenly, there was a loud, buzzing sound.  I looked around frantically and then began to slap myself.  MOSQUITOES!  They surrounded us with a vengeful lust for blood covering us with their massive numbers.  I’m sure they took delight in the two imbeciles who had walked straight into their personal dining hall!

We ran to the car for safe haven.  To our horror–and I mean horror–we found that the inside of the car was thick with zillions of tiny, blood-thirsty vampires!  We had left the windows open!  We had no choice and did the only thing we could.  We jumped in the car with all the windows rolled down, then took off, blasting down the highway as fast as we could to blow the mosquitoes out, the two of us slapping and wriggling as we went.

Poor Tom, with both hands on the wheel and eyes on the road, got bit the worst.  Finally, after the one hour ride back to our condo, the mosquitoes were almost gone.  To this day I cringe when I hear that telltale buzz.

I do look back on my vacation to Naples as magical, but, as I’ve told Tom, the only way I will ever return to the Everglades is the day it snows!









A bowl of shells and other sea life that I brought back from our trip.  I love to look at them and remember those days.

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