Grief is not something we “get through”…
you “get through” a bad day
Grief is not something we “get over”,
“you ”get over” a cold”
Grief is not something we “move on from”
you “move on from” a bad relationship”
But Grief is… a companion we “move forward with”,
learning from and growing, with each agonizing step.
Grief is… a heart-wrenching process, not bound by time,
But sets us on a “lifelong journey” of finding truth and meaning…
Grief is not a crutch we hold onto for pity
It is not a lack in character
It is not a weakness that needs to be strengthened
Or a problem that needs fixing
It is not an enemy to be slain
Or like a wild animal, to be caged
Grief is… “A METAMORPHOSIS OF HUMAN LIFE”
YES! that needs “time”… “A LIFETIME”
Grief is… an acknowledgement of true love shared
and true love lost
Grief is… a love we hold so deep within our souls
That our tears fall to caress the pain…
“God given tears”, full of purpose and meaning
For each one carries with it a piece of our heart
grief hugs us and holds us close
to a great love we can no longer touch…
grief is… our friend for without it
our lives would have been a lie.
Grief is…purely and simply a journey of love
It is a friend, to those of us who mourn
A friend who sees what we need and allows us to be us
Grief is a release of unimaginable pain…
a release of a great indescribable loss…
Grief is… the bridge that crosses repentant oceans,
spans desolate canyons, and fear filled mountain tops.
that we may cross over this tragedy to a renewed heart
by means of the love we shared and continue to share
through the love of our Almighty God
A pain we can use, to broaden our hearts
and the hearts of all those around us
it is… a road we must travel to gain wisdom.
A level of wisdom you will never achieve by playing strong.
For only when we sink to the bottomless pit of grief
Will we be awakened by the light of truth.
Do not judge it… for it contains Gods secrets
Secrets you can only hear by listening
through the blare of the pain.
It is a sacred contract to be in awe of and inspired by
To learn from and grow from
To gain compassion and understanding from
It is a journey that holds a sacred contract
That will be signed by each and every one of us
Who has the strength… and the courage…
to love with all your heart and all your soul.
It is not a journey I would wish on anyone
But now that I am here I will walk it with honor
And purpose, with my head held high and my feet in stride
For at the end of this road there you’ll be,
waiting to take me home.
As the last opalescent glow of sunset
I sail this ship alone
towards a crimson horizon
over a starlit sea
to the soft lapping of waves
which lullaby my destiny
I sail this ship alone
far from the coral sand
far from the pebbled beach
far from my sun-kissed land
Tonight there is no moon
but there's a sparkle in the sky
a starry night so still
filled with beacons of bright light
Tomorrow births a new dawn
a song within a dream
meadows of yellow buttercups
and fields of evergreen
Tomorrow I'll be greeted
by a pink-winged butterfly
a host of daffodils, and golden dandelions
a rose within a smile
Tomorrow I stroll along a new shore
feel fresh salt spray on my cheek
dance bare-foot in the wind
as Spring whispers on the breeze.
June Bells Flowering under the Trees
Scarce had it rain'd -- blue hued
drops showering down;
in the witching hour I rode,
where the earth is overrun by weeds,
yellow fringed with black-eyed-susans;
trees overhung with wild cherries.
Pacing past the sequester'd glen,
following the trail where tall beeches grow:
long sleeved and long limb'd;
and leaves falling in curling frills.
Then I heard a merry song;
soon turning round a winding bend,
a field of dripping june bells;
I sighted them, a thousand and more
in blue slippers scatter'd wide.
Seated myself on a moss cover'd stone,
as one aptly does after a long ride.
Somewhere beats an earthly heart,
someone breathes a heaving sigh;
Eyes turn to the darken'd clouds hanging by,
and to the lowering skies;
then far to the place where airy spirits roam,
and to the sepulchred ground
where unruffled I lie in my grave,
under the tufts of june bells.
For the contest: "Appreciation (In Honour of PD)"
Sponsored by Abdulhafeez Oyewole
Written on 4/23/2013
It’s an unknown journey, but I see a trail
heading to the light of tomorrow
There will often be times I'll be afraid, to go
I may stumble a bit, with an eager heart
And may tremble climbing cliffs of old sorrows
There are deep, black chasms I will not forget,
where slopes slick, with pitfalls, are waiting to trip
But I've gone too far, and I can't turn around,
Just as the sun can't turn its back on the day
The trees speak in tongues, so foreign to my ears
using parched, old voices, and tears from the sky
Scraps of brittle leaves litter, with dust all around
Mixed with words left unsaid, that I've left behind
There’s a sharp mist of hope, at the bend of the river
yet,sun on my face seems to lend,
the slope of the rain, but the warmth of the sun
with an open blue sky at the end
We hear the engine whistle
The hissing of the steam
The hairs on our necks begin to bristle
As we meet the arrival of a dream
We didn't think we had a chance of winning
Entering just for fun I guess
but thanks to simple poem we are grinning
As we board the Orient express.
London to Paris, what a dream come true
I never dreamed the sparks would fly between us two
The fireman stokes the boiler; and releases a jet of steam
The guard collects our tickets and we begin our dream
Days and nights together on this magnificent train
Travel through beautiful places, seeing new terrain
Enthralled at the elegance and beauty of the carriage
Will our trip together end up with our marriage
Looking so handsome in your new dinner jacket
Glad you won this holiday; it must have cost a packet
The ambiance of the surroundings is utter bliss
We seal our relationship with a tender kiss
Holding hands so gently we share a vintage wine
Sitting in the Pullman coach you rest your head on mine
Velvet blue sky and shining stars start to cast their spell
The romantic seine has such stories to tell.
In Paris we visit the galleries of fine art
Holding your hand I realise you have captured my heart
We pass through the Arc De Triomphe and climb the Eiffel Tower
Now I surrender to your feminine power
Retire with me to the Napoleon suite
Sharing in the splendour of this romantic treat
Promise to be my Mam'selle Josephine
Or expose my heart to Madame Guillotine
You look so beautiful and smell divine
I kiss your lips, They taste of fine wine
We are lost in the flames of passions fire
As we quench the thirst of true loves desire
Our bodies rise and fall as we entwine
Oh I’m so glad that you are mine
All those feelings denied and for so long suppressed
Come to the fore aboard the Orient express.
Passion abates we are wrapped in each others arms
Darren wants more so I succumb to his great charms
Our fire ignites with desire and great passion
Hour upon hour – this man I can’t ration
Finally we reach the end of the line
Our love making session has been so divine
Arm in arm we head out of the carriage door
So hopelessly in love – who could ask for more
15th April 2014
Jan Allison and Darren Watson - 'JaDazzle'
Please also read my Blog about our collaboration
When I was a child I only ever wanted to be strong.
I wanted to be able to compete with the boys
and when I foot raced them at recess I won every time.
They called me ‘She Hulk’ because of my muscular frame
and from the way I only ever wore soccer t-shirts and sweat pants.
After that nickname was implanted into my brain like a growing weed,
I’ve only ever wanted to be feminine.
I started wearing skirts and dresses
and in middle school they shrieked at the site of my makeup and done up hair.
But that weed inside of my mind only grew, and grew, and grew
until I became a mixed drink cocktail
with one part anorexic and two parts lonely,
because I thought that the definition of feminine began with the word frail.
No one ever realizes how greatly words affect us,
how a simple nickname can turn a pretty girl into a skeleton.
I stood at five foot two weighing seventy nine pounds,
so cold and frozen,
yet I still considered myself a ‘She Hulk.’
You could see my ribcage through my t-shirt
and my spinal cord protruded loudly through my weathered skin,
as if somehow my bones were dirty knives
just trying to cut through the flesh of judgment.
As I grew older I became the girl that was never enough.
Not good enough to speak poetry.
Not good enough to lay paint on a canvas.
Not good enough.
Not tall enough.
Not big enough boobs for them.
Not primped to perfection.
Not undeniably straight.
Not smart enough.
Not dumb enough.
Not ditsy enough.
Not cool enough or fun enough.
And I began to believe, too, that I wasn’t enough.
I never told my mother that I had been in madly in love with a girl.
I never told anyone about the night we first kissed
because I was too vulnerable for the judgment.
And parents always justify saying that ‘kids will be kids’
But when we are kids our brains are still growing
and the smallest of seeds that get planted will one day bloom
into one giant regret,
will one day affect the choices that we make,
will one day influence us about the clothes that we wear,
will one day shape us into the person who we thought we would never be.
I only ever wanted to be strong,
and as a child I thought strength was only about being able
to lift a bar stool above your head.
I thought that strength was only about being able
to beat the boys in bare foot running races.
I was told that strength was something only
a man could have.
But as I’ve grown older I’ve realized that strength
isn’t about muscle at all,
but it’s about weakness,
and the ability to overcome the social anxiousness.
It’s about carrying around a lifetime of baggage
on your broken back
because the ones that kicked you when you were down
are going to be the ones that were ultimately wrong.
I thought that the definition of woman
began with the word disappointment.
And I became a mixed drink cocktail
with one part freedom
and two parts Sailor Jerry
because every girl needs a stiff drink once and awhile.
We are not disappointments.
We will never be the ones who gave up on hope.
We will never be the ones who gave up on each other,
or our mothers.
We will always be enough;
enough for the ones who shunned us
enough for the ones that cursed us
enough for the ones the hurt us
and destroyed us
and beat us when we were covered in bruises.
But you see, bruises fade
and the scars of our flesh are only stories
things we have overcame
and there are things out there that we will overcome.
When I was a child, I only ever wanted to be strong.
I hid my vulnerability.
I hid the parts of me that were true.
I never told my mother about my girlfriend
because I was afraid she wouldn’t understand,
kind of like all those people who never understood
just how much words effect us.
I can’t say that I can beat the boys at foot races anymore,
because, well, I smoke cigarettes now.
And I can’t say that the nickname of my childhood didn’t affect me.
But I take that name now and embrace it.
Because I am strong.
I am the ‘she hulk’.
I am a mixed drink cocktail
with three parts greatful.
I have been put in my place many times
Told how to talk
What to think
How I need to look a certain way
Be the way I'm suppose to be
Expectations to be met
I could never be me
That place that almost drove me insane
I kept being placed there
Over and over again
Yet I had no choice but to be true to myself
I couldn't be someone else's book
Placed on a shelf, in a perfect row, not standing out
No one knowing what I'm about
I ripped out the pages
Inserted my own
Scribbled on the cover
Added my own colors
My pages screamed to be read
Hoping others would hear what I said
As time went on
I often changed my design
Desperately trying to know myself
Unsure what I would find
Never really fitting in
Confused by what I found within
Hard to know where I belong
Listening to notes from others songs
Was my way of thinking right
In a distance I could see a glimmer of light
I dreamed my dreams
I craved the light
Then one day
All the pieces clicked
I fell into place
Joy accompanied by a certain grace
Comfortable with me
I live in the moment
I can just be
I am free
I know my place
Dedicated to my Friend Armand who knows
his place and helps others discover their place.
You my friend are a true original Happy Birthday!
~ JOURNEY to the center of me!~
Yield upon this blissful moment!
In, a cutting-edge welcoming,
This minute can only maintain-
Yesterday’s journey~ Desire~
The world inside my head, can think,
Deeper than a dream;
Up till now, anticipation has hovered my present thoughts
Day becomes night,
Night becomes day,
In a cave, I call my insanity.
Hallucination, raveling inside my head,
I sit where my thoughts entwine with my elusive slumber.
Everything inside of me is lucid and lost in madness.
I perceive the proper perception;
to think is only a thought.
Today’s journey~ Sensation~
Barren thoughts never exit the aggression in my mind.
I stand among the crying thunder locked within my head.
Of sweet flower they arise and bloom, above all shores,
I embrace the beauty of my deepest emotion.
Sands of time litter within my walls!
My thoughts sit and wait!
Minimizing themselves down to a speckled dot.
They are a few, sweet and creepy,
Those grab my attention,
Tomorrow’s journey~ Pleasure~
Passion wilting upon yesterday’s memory.
Concentrating and unraveling every single knot.
And, still I go back and give that one look.
A hot steamy want, judged by my brainwaves.
Notions, follow a path and indulge with no escape.
Danger escapades into a naughty reflection, "I am my own diversion!"
My thoughts are thoughtless as they can be.
Brittle and little like you and me!
Still my journey continues to emerge with all the thoughts found in the center of me.
Everyday's journey~ Begins with………Determination……
A thousand steps in between
who I was and who I am now
do I wonder about the detours?
do I wish I took the dirt road instead?
Would my path have been smoother if I said no instead of yes?
Would the worries have been less then what they are today?
I guess I’ll never know,
unless I go back in time
choose a different path
choose the least attractive offer and run with it
pipe dreams that is all my journey back in time would be
‘cause I would not have met you
and you would not be reading these words....
Everything in life boils down to an immaculate plan,
it may not be my ideal plan or yours
but in the end the voyage continues
whether we want to or not…
‘Cause it is all part of the bigger picture
in that image is your life and mine...
We just got to embrace the journey
no matter how uncertain it might be...
Contest: Anything Goes
Place my mind into a boat
doused with kerosene.
Create a lantern on the water:
light the boat a-flame
and push it out to sea.
Then my heart will be more free.