Dedicated to Deb Radke
The cottage reeks with
fluid tides of hope,
My baby’s here.
I’ve still no word
coming down the line from Dover.
Spring rains have come
and with it comes the tears all over.
I weep again, my child it seems,
will never know her father.
Today down by the spring
I prayed the prayer so often said,
sorrow turned desperation.
I found a ring left in the cup, since
yesterday laying there, scribed “M”
upon a jeweled stone.
My heart leaped in
I heard his voice inside my head,
where also his face I saw.
I turned and looked...
no one was there...
please God give me
this one discretion.
There must be peace somewhere to find.
I look but must be led
by your grace and mercy.
Again at chores, the babe
asleep, the knock came loudly.
A letter from Michael O’brian maam,
please sign here for delivery.
I hurriedly skimmed,
he was dead,
two days before,
Our little Rose, still in my care,
to receive his name
if she so chose
and all else he owned in Dover.
A ring for me
it seems was gone,
a large garnet with the letter M
on the stone, had disappeared
A seed was planted in winter,
planted in sweetness of youth.
It was a gift from Michael.
He left me alone in the spring---yet,
his flower grew in my garden.
Our error was human.
First feeling trapped, then love,
from this Rose in my life.
Forgiveness is divine.
Love is eternal.
11 Jan 2011 Charles Henderson
I thought I couldn't make it, I thought, there's no-need in trying to fake it. I thought I
couldn't make it, couldn't even if I tried. One thing I had going for me was the strength
of prayer, the desire too try and shake it. The enemy use to laught at me, probably threw
party after partie's, had me the object of an pitifull degree. But like I said earlier, prayer's
are the commodity that give's giddy preference when one has given-up, still defying all the
obstacle's, treating life with stupidity. Many if not all people, do and will fall, fall-down the
ladder of life, the censentsus of marriages(why problems occur) and with no answer coming
in a timely fashion, and if one or all began to doubt the sainthood of the prosturity of trust
and surity. I thought I couldn't defy all the obstacle's, my selfishness lead to a private war,
predicated to a underscribable spell, and as I sank deeper and deeper(lump un throat) one
day with gun in hand, suicide became a source of a beginning instead of an ending (so I tho-
ught). My hand was trembling fuseily, to kill, steal your joy of life, the enemy must have been
smiling that dreadfull day, the day I thought to end it all. Tear's running down my face-out of
nowhere, a disturbing noise of siren's outside startle me, I later learn they were there for me.
Someone care enought to call when I didn't answer the phone, I had mention earlier--when
life had seem empty and blue, "that I no longer desire to live". So they prayed-and then the
authoritie's was call, arriving just at the nick of time. How could I allow things to get so bad.
It was so sad(so I thought) many times the God of yesterday, today, and tomorrow, he didn't
hear me, nor did I thought of love and peace for my sorrow.
"I defy all the obstacle's", the enemy tried to stored in my head. Now I know the reason for
life is the oddity of hate and the present of fate. That prayer's are the life-line that show's
him where is your faith, that you can carry to him, all the hardship one if not all shall face.
"The author of creation teaches love eternally is the essence that signified all that's difficult
when facing that (monster) always remember." "I defy all the obstacle's" :
Don’t judge that kid with her arms all scarred
Don’t brand that kid as bad
You never would have survived
If you had the life she had
So say a prayer and show you care
She’s paid more than her share of dues
Don’t put her down or say bad things
Until you’ve walked that mile in her shoes
Those who suffered in war earn respect
They are greeted like super stars
She came from a war you wouldn’t understand
On her arms, the battle scars
Her own home was the battle zone
The desperation, feeling all alone
A situation she felt no escape from
Then late at night the urges come
Innocence lost like a bad dream
No self respect, no self esteem
It is an ongoing battle to feel whole
You can see the beauty within her soul
Sometimes I pray for a Judgement day
You have no heart if you look away
Flashbacks come and the anger stirs
The guilt she carries isn’t hers
There is a need for justice long past due
A need for acceptance from me and you
With anger, despair and fear demanding
The child needs some understanding
In spite of all the tears she cried
There are still battle scars deep inside
They needed help
Walking alone in the dark.
A broken down car.
The child frightened,
But not understanding
That would soon
Come her way.
Her parents petrified
That their baby was gone,
Over forbidden images
That crowded their way
Past ice cream sundays
And birthday parties
And wedding days.
A doer of good deeds.
He looks into
the little girl's eyes.
The girl speaks,
"This is not my dad"
And the coward
who took her,
Believing he saved
From a long, cold walk,
Saved a child
From a long, cold death.
Rushing to your bedside,
cars blurred, people passed me by
yet I still looked for a sign
to know you would be all right
but I only felt God's tears on my cheeks that day
You just lay there,
the fire in you set to low
and I could not see your bright smile
but your heart still beat, ever so strong
and I felt God’s arms embrace me that day
For seven days you held on,
a day for each of us
even then you were so thoughtful...
you could not speak, but we still heard you breathe
then I heard God whisper to me that day…
As I left with papa to buy your mattress
to soothe your aching sores
I heard His voice say, “Go back and kiss him,”
“This just may be your last.”
And true enough, it was.
We left you there still breathing,
not on your own though, but still
Then that dreaded phone call...
No more need to buy that mattress,
your heart had already gone still
A part of my heart will always be numb,
and I shall never be the same again
a certain twinkle in my eye won’t shine anymore,
it died as you took your final breath
but my smile, how thankful I am I have a hint of yours...
Tears still flow from my soul you know
for all my mistakes, for my version of coping
I am just so sorry, I hope you have forgiven me
and I still hope to feel your embrace once more
when I reach Heaven’s door someday...
It may only be in dreams that I truly see you,
only in prayer do we speak
You are here no more and yet I feel you,
inside my heart, the depths of my soul…
** this is about the last image of seeing my only brother alive...
he was diagnosed with a brain tumor the size of a tennis ball
5 months prior to his seizure which led to a 7-day coma,
which he finally succumbed to,
just 2 days before I turned 23...he was 32...
** originally wrote this for Frank's Images contest-
thanks Frank for coming up with this,
it's helped me to write and share this...
please say a prayer for Raphael, my brother--thank you...
** submitting this as well for HG's Personify a Tear contest
Winter be but two weeks old and already they lament.
No passion seems as strong as their loudest prayer for spring.
Spring will come when it will and wake the grasses and willow.
Let Natures brief time of slumber last long enough to rest her.
The winter be time for beauty to be found on ice etched panes,
And bayonets of glass, hanging from every eave to be seen.
Winter be found in crystalline air so pure only heroes inhale it.
And footsteps crunch like breaking luttuce upon the snowy ground.
Beyond winter times will speed and rush their way forward.
Spring then Summer and Autumn sprinting to their ultimate ends.
Let winter luff her way on tiny frozen feet while fire warms yours.
Add another log and settle in for a long nap and a dream.
In this centrifuge of sanctimony
Where I sip the atrophied air of my ancestors
The shipwrecked tide of my unborn children
Angels dangle from a precipice of silence
Strained by strings of a theoretical God
Sung by eyes of defiance
Which navigate the jagged epitaphs below
For that one sediment of salvation
That one moment of submission
Hoping he will see
His wonders, atrocities, his indifference
To cast a shadow of conviction
Over shivering light
Across the inlet where ivory columns crumbled
And modernity now deftly mumbles
Its fleets of fortune baptized
Nigh the bronze dust of golden millennia
Where history lies with its victims
A fugue of fossilized souls
A silent prayer remains
The family was all gather in the waiting room at the local hospital. The new's of
Anthony being shot had everyone there in a state of shock and feeling dispeckable.
Just about a month ago the elder Anthony (Sr.) died after a serious car accident that
left 3-people's dead and a little boy in a coma, after recieving a large cut on his head.
So now his mother is deeply in need, and all are praying as they wait for answers-about
what seem like a hundred year's a doctor dress in hospital garment steps in the waiting
room, "sorry to be the bearier of bad new's, but Anthony injury was to seveered-we did
all we could, but sad to say....he's dead". The outcry of emotion was unbearable, Anthony
mother is given a shot to help her calm down and relax. "The enemy of depression is stat-
ed to begin when the enemy think's you're vulnerable at your most perplex stage".
But the power of prayer is a medicated antidode that wards off when the mind is slated.
Believing in Prayer's, Justifie's my stronghold on hope. "For faith is the substance of things
hope for, and the evidence of things not seen". Member's of Anthony family prayed inclusi-
vily for the carjacker to be caught, for he shot Anthony and stole his car, being depress
already she kept on praying thru-out this ordeal, and within hours, he's caught.
Thank God for being so real, his younger sister is heard as she shouts-after they're told
of the capture and still very sadden about Anthony ordeal, God has a way that brings about
hope--hope brings this family some thrill.
A whole lot of people deal with depression, some in the most provocative way. I myself
Believe's in faith, when the enemy tries to ruin my day.
I seen your face
I felt your embrace
And it just wasn't the same
I finally walked away without lookin' back to call out your name
Once you were my best friend
Once I swore I'd be yours to the end
But I guess its time to say goodbye
Many of times you have clipped my wings but now its time for me to fly
I still remember all the drunken fights
I still remember all the sad lonely nights
It was constant infedlity
My only prayer was to be set free
Thats not a place a girl can call home
Life is better when I'm out on my own
Sleepin' in alleys, living off dumpster buffets, and seeking dope
Stealing and lying is no longer my only hope
I won't fall for what you have to say
I refuse to cry for you today
I have come so far and moved onto something more
Life is better than ever before
But I guess its time to say goodbye
Many of times you have clipped my wings but now its time for me to fly
Speak, and be heard, let those feelings be set free,
our God given right, I once heard, freedom for you, and me.
Look at the picture, some paint covered in clouds,
isn't it our right, to speak out loud?
History in high school, was taught with pride,
now all those Americans we studied about, have long died.
With them went hope, and a chance of equality,
these are the things they fought for, not selfish greed.
The Pledge of Allegiance we said everyday,
and everyone stood, as the words were said.
The Constitution was studied, and reports were made,
in front of the class the next day, we would stand up, and say.
All our freedoms that were given to us,
now narrowing down, "help," who do we trust.
A prayer was given, with our heads humbly bowed,
using our freedom of speech, we thanked God out loud.
Everything has changed, now we worry about safety in schools,
shootings, perverts, and God was evicted, now Satan rules.