The Last Journey Ends Here- Dealing With Bipolar Spouse

This family rest in a grave
Tears buried and screaming
Can anyone here me
Through the  miles of his lies
There's the symphony she is playing
Gathering one by one
They wonder what it was ............

I have folded
on this journey

As his hand rest between cotton and determination
His knife slit the soul of this heart
as he sits quietly mocking
black eyes.
My white dress bleeds
 

What is there of a man with no conscience
lining us up one by one
apologizing as he fires the gun one more time.

There is no promise to this story.
As there is nothing

I pray , I pray as he buries us for the last time
My tears drowned the box we lay in
The sorrow is more blue than any rainbow I could imagine.

I can't imagine this evil creeping in.
I hear the symphony play as my ears fall under  water
As I sing my children a lullaby
I tried so hard
I prayed so hard
Save me now
I am drowning.
But there is no one here this time.

And there are no more lullabies.

Quote from her Personal closet -Amy Everett

The light shines through the filthy canvas

paint hasn't been here in years

"I forgot what it feels like to be listed in an art museum," she says.

"You will never be left off the mantal again," he says.

For My son- The Passing

The black hood draws shut at the foot of the room
I close the door
I cant reach you
Im sorry they hurt you.

If you could see
I live for you
I protected you
And Im sorry.
If I could take it all back I would
I would take every suitcase you had
And burn them away.

Every ounce of pain.
SO many hurt us
and walked away.
It wasnt to our measure of worth son


It was their own.



I see you
your earphones are on.
If I could I would rip out my heart and give you my own.
So you would know you are not alone.

If you can please forgive me.
I should have protected us better.
should have never traded beauty for a storm.

Im praying for us while you sleep,
God will get us through the rain.
Just know how much I love you.

And I never meant for you to have so much pain.

Dandelion Threads....

>
> I here the alarm sounding in the distant sunrise
> I should of ran so long ago
> But I stayed.
>
> You asked me to believe
> You cried me to sleep.
> Now I am here standing alone,
> Nothing left but a pillow
>
> I throw questions in the wind
> Along with the anger and broken promises
>
> I blow the dandelion
> Watch it's beauty as you spit in my face
> On this cold rainy day.
>
> Did you know
> I heard the wind long ago
> She tried to take me away from you
> you held on.
> And cut me to peices
>  all at the same time.
> I gave it all
> gave it all
>
> you owned this childs heart
> cut out perfect waiting every night
> I lay here as you spit in her face.
> The only rain left is the rain from her face.
>
> You had to tear her to peices
> til there was nothing left.
> she bent forwards and in half
> wrote a love note in a bottle hoping he would come back.
>
> Every gift , every promise a diamond shattered and carried away by the sea.
> she sings a lullabye so she can sleep.
> watches beauty fade
> and every dream drowned under the weight of the sand and tide
>
> She was on her knees
> she was briused
> she sacrificed everything for you
>
> We both did
> Then he spit in my face.
> washed away with the winter rain
> not sure how long it will last.
>
> But I pray Jesus takes the pain away.
>
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nATpNWlo-ak&feature=related
>
>

The Great Resolve

Composites slit open stills reeling my veins into your corpse
I can’t keep you alive- I’m drained .
Iris shot from blank gun
I sit on this coffin
You lay on the ground laughing
I sacrifice who I am
You reach for the wrong god.

I pray as I reach for His thorns
I feel His hands they grasp for my own
I know you feel me
You call my name

What is left as you make whole again
But do they see the great sacrafice you have made
That I have bled for thiere mastakes?

I am divided
The beggar claims a martars case.
The wisdom is granted for a wolf in a sheeps cape.
As we wait the trial and jury of his fate.

With nothing left but crowns and thread
Look to the King
To be brought your life again.   

To Change It All..

Life sends clutter that sends an astounding noise that echos through our days that we forget we operate on what we have learned merley from our past and not from our life experience. Or what God has taught us . The back stage has been reborn , the scars renewed and we are now the writers of our very own play. Yet pages of old greif stricken novels hold us back and stain our new pages rendering us from hearing our new loves voices, our childrens cry for us to listen . As we scream in our kitchens, hide in our 9-5 jobs. We forget where dreams come from. We forget that the small hearts that look to us for new moments and new dreams are smoldered by grime and empty side walks. And we remain selfish and full of pride.

I am just a writer, who observes so many children who got lost by the way side. I hear them amoungst friends, they talk about how there parents don't love each other any more, or how they are so busy fighting they don't see them. And there parents say theyr'e children are just fine. These kids are 5, they are 7 maybe 13. And they are smarter than we are. You see there pages have not been torn yet. We havn't had the time to do that . And so soon we forget that are sails arn't broken they have just given up to the storms that rage around us.

I encourage you to become 5, 7 or 13 again. And begin your story again. Walk backstage and re write your play. What would it say? Where would you go? What would your children see? Would you hide? Would you be afraid to love?


Yes I am just a writer. But I encourage you, to open your hearts, your ears and listen. And re write the story again. Before it's to late. .... And throw the old story away. Where it can never be read again.    

Where the strangers Go.

There’s a stain on my glasses

I thought there could be an audience

But God holds on the line.. He said, Girl it’s his ship this time.

There’s a flurry in my belly

And glass instead of wine.

So tell me, What are we fishin for this time.

As the crazy runs out the door

Were left alone once more.

And I know the decision is clear

God holds - he  hands me a line

And I write it down- one last time.

"There isn’t a man that belongs to you with a double mind. "

So I follow the leader that is left

Write one last poem without regret

I hear the frogs

So Lonely in here

And the Dr. says,

What kind of man was that.

Cupid

Broken arrows pile where cupid fell long ago

I sit beneath the tree where time forgot me

To only read A story.

Beggars walk by with nothing to give but pennies.

And I have my cup out for change.

I saw redemption , she wasn’t on her knees

I felt love but it was in a cage.

I saw bravery through a coward

And a fight through broken battle lines.

I am broken

I am commanded

Gun warm

Bruised.

I walk but not alone

Scratched iris but yet not blind.

Looking for the beggar

To give more than his cup.  

Tori Amos - Pretty Good Year

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZpLCFph9iv4

Life In A 10x7

Found some new material
Layin around in my pocket
Behind some lip gloss
Where my life is packed in that 10x7

you  smack me and smile

No lookin back-

I hide the tears behind yesterdays sunglasses….

It’s me and you kid
Alone again.

This pop star beauty


And no one’s looking back at me
Except this one page mirror glass
Broken in the back seat
As we drive in this get away car you wave good bye to me.

Have you got a clue?
I manage a smile
As I walk room to room
Of a broken home
I once new
I escape from the nursery we called our home




I fall to the floor
Where every tear echo’s
I gather myself together
And I leave the keys.

The Tin Man

Crows circle above

As I trade the tin man ,for whisky and a light.

An Eastwood film , I ride through the night.

The men are dead here

Eyes have no form

Hearts- Gone.

I never belonged in such a place.

A canvas painted amongst such storms.

 

I wrote Broadway

Couldn’t perform

Puppets on strings

I hate Pinocchio.

Tell me where to ride too

Where the land isn’t quite so cold

Tell me where to fly too

Where the truth is told.

Tell me.

As I search beyond this lantern

Filled with sand.

Falling through your mad hands.

A Letter To Grace (1)

Patchwork blankets coat smiles
Tell me about dreams and pink daisies
In a world of black hurricanes and rainbows.

I will sing her a lullaby something about  a  pretty good year

As optimism stings the night air
We suffer alone – Marching with angels clamoring for joy
“We can make it ,”  she says

So I grab her hand and my prayers

Darlin here we go again
Ill build you secret windows and capes if I can.

Can you feel me from inside reaching –

The line is wearing thin
But the storm rides on
You bear my strength in arms
Frustrated by the cold

Eyelashes and freckles
Under layers of flavored ice cream
"If angels can -we can"
She whispers , as we fall asleep.

Bedtime Story

She’s just a tornado with skinned knees

And a pink dress

She has some sort of ship

And a direct line to God

Lines static

She can tell a good story

But the commander is tired and the rain sometimes , it sometimes never stops falling.

She will tell you about the boys and how they are cowards with swords

And maybe just maybe she’ll tell you that the ocean is a grave yard full of their bones..

There’s a girl with those unusual lips and dark brown eyes, and they all say she is beautiful

But she won’t believe you , because those boys.. those boys..

She has a sailor she calls home,

She has grace to keep her calm,

And she fights, yes.

But if there was a lesson to be learned

It’s in the stories she writes

But we are soldiers hand made by Kings

Is there anyone listening… the line is static…   

Over Coming Abuse

I shuffle through torn pages with words smudged , hardly reading material . These excrement’s are what is left of the memories of my life. A mere shadow blown across the distant time and passages as I listen to Finch  - Ender, play on the computer.  I browse back and forth effortlessly through time in no order , but it goes without forgiveness, The hands I held in the moonlight in the ocean ,naked under the moon, and one innocent kiss- you think  could last forever but ends, with one summer.   As I released everything we were in 5 years – I course forward through time… Stretching thin –dragging a broken heart with me.  Years go by. A marriage ends.  To harsh words and a man in a mask.  Left single again.  I quicken now to poetry and patterns.  I remember walking down the streets at night

 praying , As I watched through plate glass windows, manikin faces putting their children to bed. Wondering could this ever be my fate? Is love something someone could hold for me? Is this my possibility? I stroll back as a child a father figure who raped me  . He stole  my worth, but I knew if I believed in God’s word , I wouldn’t have to go through this over and over again. Could someone see the priceless treasures in me?

It’s been 3 years since that day 3 more broken relationships including a marriage.  To a man who yet didn’t see my worth.  I sit here now in front of a computer. Back at square one. Different today then the girl pondering the people behind the glass walls.  If I did see my worth in God’s eyes I wouldn’t of let them walk on me or beat me down.  I am not a victim to them, just to myself.  Believing the lies they told me. When Jesus said ,” you’re ok.     

Ingannatore

I doc my Aces
Bet my odds on sailing the great red sea
Find the Joker
Laughing , I take my seat.

The ribbons worn loosely
Like her knees- but I mind my manners-
Never got me far , except some scars
But you never minded , I mean mended ,
As you kissed me goodnight with intentions
Of painted Kings hanging onto regret.

So I sing a lullaby to grace as she sleeps in the belly of my stomach
And you wish her away
 you scream for us to be washed away!
 
Jokers become reminders
Love letters become filters

As you laugh down an empty hallway-

It’s all my fault!
It’s all my fault!
Girls-
In the bedroom-
In the bathroom-
Alone
Puffy lips
Beautiful eyes
With no one to see her
In the dark

But she wasn’t the victim
You see.

Running the wrist of the king under cold water
Finding her faults
Finding nothing but mazes instead.

If I Could Find My Coat (1)

Trail the blood from eye lid
Sweating salt palms grim,

There was nothing but absence
Signed and chained was for my protection
Broken was the pen
Guilty was the conscience

The jury sits in silence
Penance for the soul that hangs from your shadow
So you can march far from my words
Left void in the rain
But I am stamped and branded in your journey

In the end it will be to late
No turning back
You were to be  the coat on my back

But yet, you tore the buttons- into shreds.

While the funeral procession plays its last song
You call – to make sure that I am ok..

Let me tell you a story about planes
And real Kings.
The phone is silent
He doesn’t understand

No I guess you wouldn’t I said.
To the mad hatter man.

So vedova- he laughs,
As he sentences his own hanging

She wonders –
Why didn’t he love me?

Bonds

Curl up in wonderland with metallic machine guns

Walls painted white, just the way you like them

So we come in for the landing, to see what you see

Tornado spread thin.

So the violin plays from famed lips

Black butterfly window panes

 It’s your house ,

Your taxi.

A world of heaven - your world of nightmares,

I sent you a thousand messages -but they only touch your shores

We can only get so far…

So I’m sailing- heaven can’t live in hell

Funny thing, she says…

Never was a fire.

Some have a mirage broken and bound to their eyes.

So please darlin’

If you make it

The beach is littered by candy heart verse

But we can’t save you

The seas are calm now

Behind me lies the storm

When The Honey Is Gone

There’s a guateen in my pocket

Holding up the storm

There’s gumption in my throat

Makes me say uh mmm….

I tremble in his presence footsteps loud and clear

Tell me Mr. Sandman,
 never thought I would have the strength to leave you…

With a bullet in my brain

Salvation in my brow

Freedom from this prison

You laugh-

I bow.

Puffy lipped girl, lesson learned time and again

New York tells me I’m special

But I needed to believe ...

But I read it from newsstands.

As I wipe those tears with smudged hands

So I turn to my boy ,
 With another broken promise and a pen.

To tell him the devil won again.

I hand him a heart in a locket

Please tell him it’s not his fault

Please tell him I am sorry

So everything runs thin

The piano stops playing

What do you tell the boy who loses dreams….

Because of the monster under the bed.

One Shot - Rain Coat (1)

There’s a famous jacket who toured the world with buttons

What were those buttons?

Brass with those clasps

Hanging on your words in the morning light

Under your shadow

I try to remove with a new dawn
As it gets erased with your sunset eyes
Tell me as I remember you
With your raincoat
I fancy you in my glasses and lip gloss

As it pours down heaven

So maybe if time didn’t have a name
And a stamp
I could wear this dress a little longer

Instead I am here
With tasseled reminders
Of overdue library books
And unrequited looks

An Iris dilated in reform
In search for her soul

But we all know…
This letter will always be lost in the mail…

Page 2010-One Shot (1)

There’s a cigar in my pocket
Conversation in my coffee
A riddle in your mouth
Not sure what it meant.

There is a sun in my sky
And a cloud in my eye
I walk in the slowing of time
Capturing memory
With one step forward

Half steps back.

A smile rots in your pocket
Holding onto it
As tight as you can
Saying goodbye and hello in sentences
I can’t seem to catch.

I sing along to your song
I see it all in the rearview mirror
Unforgiving
And foreseeing

God offers me a light

The Devil pulls my tail

With laughter I fall to my knees
If he only knew

He was the sun in my sky

One step forward
Half back
With a cloud
And A sigh….