Poems that sing in my head

who you are...

To each thump... Bam

To each pump... Wham 

Your my heartbeat  

In out , up down 

Cold hot, jaw drop 

I expel 

You implode 

Words like daggers

Cut my soul 

A plethora 

Of hurtful things

Gouging deep 

Into my soul

Carving into 

Who I will be

And Showing 

just who you are

Lobotomy

Darkness of my mind envelops 

Covering the child in me

Hiding her deep

Till she forgets how she loved to be

Shadows dance inside this brain

Blackening the purest thought 

Altering to who she is today

Gliding effortlessly from synapse to ganglia 

Electric excitement becomes a dull ack 

What sparked her passion 

Has become a lost memory

An itch that tingles but can never be scratched

Longing turns to acking 

A lobotomy has been performed 

The electric path was removed

A missing lingers

A daily confusion 

Persists till 

Age makes you believe 

It is her who is the thief 

Time will heal these wounds

They say

Yet the loss is still there

That hole in a pathway 

Still wants to feel that spark 

No matter what 

Damage was made

And the space where you

Were in my brain is hollow 

Flesh and bone

I still remember that day, that phone call. You spoke in monotone, like reading a speech from note cards. I listened in shock; for 10 minutes earlier, you told me how much you cared. I laughed at first, thinking this was a joke; then, hoping it was a joke. 
That is when it began. I heard your hand reach through the phone. I felt it pierce my chest, ripping through tissue and bone. I heard the throbbing. I saw my heart, dripping with passion, be torn from my body. In just a moment, it was gone. I felt nothing, numb.
Now I walk zombie like looking, not for brains, but a heart to rip out, just to hear that sound again, that rhythmical thumping. Just to feel something once more. I am so hollow and empty, desperate to fill this void...
Soon the blank stare-sitting becomes waiting. Then I start to feel my veins slowly fill again and a faint sound taps in my ears. There you are; not stolen, just shredded. So I take encouraging words and thoughts, use them as tape to bind and protect these wounds. Still the damage is there and it does not pump the same.  I can only fill my lungs with air and use my muscles to walk around in circles. Sometimes lost, or is it a daze? I occasionally scratch at the itching scar . A reminder of a never will be. 
The tissue rubs against my ribs, hinting that I will never be the same. Stronger and guarded, I have become. No one sees me anymore. My brain has shielded me by keeping all at a distance. I catch people staring at the scars, but the fire in my eyes pushes them away. I am alone now, but never again will I be lonely.

The worlds around us

I sat on my oversized couch, curled up with my daughter, looking at old family photos. Giggling at the clothes and the funny things being done, when she asked about my firefighting days. Memories flooded in. Then questions about truck driving. It hit me like a load of bricks. How many different circles we run in. I have lived in many places but it our jobs and our likes that draws us into these circles. There are so many circles that I will never be in, like famous people, or welders, or astronauts. Now, with the internet, the circles get broader and we start to dipping our toes into different ponds. Tweeting with famous people or researching the new possibilities of space travel but we still stick to the circles we love, family and friends.I love to learn new things and have been "hooked" on the internet since 1996 when I found money in a parking lot (after waiting the allotted 30 day claim period). But that will be another story.
I paid for a full year and soon I was checking out games and answering calls from all the friends who were stumped on trivia questions. The internet has been my link to the outside world. I had 4 young children and lived far out in the country so friends hardly stopped by and loading 4 kids in the car was a monumental task. After much research, I developed plans for a coffee shop .A place where one could swing by and grab a packed homemade lunch while grabbing your coffee. Then at night it would turn into a hangout place for teens. With board game nights and having special guests stopping by to help teens find guidance and confidence, I was so excited. An adventure for me, to help others and show my kids that it takes a society to raise kids not just a mom and/or dad. Because of living in the country, teens were bored, and soon trouble followed. I had my proposal all ready to show my husband, full of pride and independence. It took only one sentence to sink my heart. Do you want your children to feel as abandoned as you did? Gone....my dream balloon went fizzing through the air and out of sight. I still tear up over this.
So I vowed that no one would ever stop me again!!! I soon found that I could make it in many worlds. Single mother of 4, full time job managing the family business, firefighting, emt, soccer mom, and even treasurer of a bowling league, handling all at once. I wanted my children to see that if you want it bad enough, you can do it. Children will follow your example.
Now I sit on the edge of another world, a place that asks me to give up everything I know and familiar with. My heart races in excitement at the thought of moving but then that voice that crops up way back in my head saying ... abandoning again? But I have decided to send the ninjas in my head to kick the crap out of that voice!!!! 

Breathe

I started writing my book....
This is a novel of normality...Of the mondaine, the ordinary.
What makes me; me. But it also makes you extraodinary. 


Chapter One
Breathe: to draw air into and expel it from the lungs : respire;broadly : to take in oxygen and give      
           out carbon dioxide through natural processes




Breathing  is so underrated . I say this because of the moments in life that seem to make that just stop ... Effortless and profound. Now that does not mean that good things are "about to happening"  But even in the most horrible moments, your breathe is taken away. It is a beginning to a new path. A choice. Where to go from here? Where your true colors show? 
Funny thing is I am looking down, after dying my daughters hair... My hands are stained . I work at a job where appearance is very important. Judged right away. My hands are stained dark brown... Yet all I think is ... I am so glad and honored that my teenaged daughter trusted me enough that I could do it... And that I actually  got to spend  time with her, just her and me. It is these simple moments that make me so proud... Not the goals or the expensive prom dress... But the fact that she trusts me with her looks and believes in me too.




I don't know where this life is taking me but the dusty path behind has quite a few tales I would like to share.

Be More

So just living on the surface is not enough we need to brush the skin of the planet to touch the boundaries to rise as far as we can then push it more... Go beyond our minds.  Have faith there is more and know we can achieve it . Dream more than in sleep .... gain more than possible. God has given us the capability to learn more and he wants us to challenge ourselves to obtain the peace we seek. In everything we dowe must obtain ourselves. This is the true gift of god. For he knows that we only truly appreciate what gain ...only that what we earned and struggled for .... not just given.

Heart stopping moment

I have had my fair share of heart stopping moments. Car accidents, giving birth and taking my child to the hospital. The routine of a day is changed by a simple phone call. I sat listening but not truly understanding. I have noticed the arch of her back and even asked about it but was told all was fine. Then here I sit replaying the converation over and over. The best chance was to visit the Shriners hospital . My family surrounded my daughter like a herd of elephants arround the young when attacked. The color white (on walls) remind me of that day. Waiting with paperwork, waiting and  trying to distract, waiting and feeling frustrated, waiting. The doctors small talk began and then the examination of her back. He asked me to call the family in. Tears swelled in my eyes, holding my breath. He sat everyone down. All eyes on him. He said "it is days like these that I love my job, I get to tell you that she is ... Fine!" We all had tears of joy while embracing each other, including the doctor. What a glorious day!

the Door Bell game

My son, James has a unique (okay its weird) sense of humor like me. When he was younger, I taught him many things but one innocent game came to mind recently that i have passed along to my youngest daughter (3yr old now). Upon seeing his bellybutton, i would push it and make a sound of a door bell. Laughing and running from mom was always followed. But like all good things, it also could be seen in a different way. I discovered this while James went laughing into his grandparents house (just to set the scene, James does have a bit of a scary laugh, reminding me of the villain laughing at his fantastic new evil plan.) . With my curiosity peeked, I ran in the house wondering what was about to happen. The house was full (all 12 children and their families were over) yet eerily quiet. So as his yells echoed throughout the house, I fell to my knees and tears running down my cheeks (from laughing so hard) , I heard.... " Grandpa, Grandpa!! Wanna see my ding dong?!"