Saturday, January 28, 2012

channeling God?

Working on a new novel. I feel as if I was called to do this work. But called by whom? This could lose me some close friends, and definitely will anger some family members. But I don't think that I really have an option to close my eyes to the truth that I see, or to close my mouth and not let the world know of the danger that is coming ...

What WOULD Jesus do?

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

I Am a Rock

I sat, my back resting against the warm boulder . The liquid sun was hot on my head, the breeze soft and sweet. Bright light shined through my closed eyelids. I held very still, listening, and let the energy swirl around me.

I felt the world breathing, felt its heart beating, heard its song singing in my veins. "I feel like it's trying to talk to me", I said.

"It is," Grandpa said, "You're hearing Earth's soul. Listen closely

The alkali sand hard and course under me, my back melded with the boulder . The molten desert sun pooled in my hair, the whispering breeze was cool. I closed my eyes, relaxing. I felt the Earth's crackling energy flowing over my prickling skin. I opened myself to it, sharing my own soul with the current. I allowed my essence to mix freely with the dancing of the universe.

For this moment in time, I was a rock. Immoble. Immortal. Inorexable.

When life gets turbulent, this is my strength.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

27 feet

The pain shot through me like white hot knives. My back arched in response, waking me up. I hesitated to acknowledge what came next. After several seconds, I gave in. I stood from my comfy napping place in the armchair.

I placed my feet very carefully, but each step still caused a jolt of pain to shoot like lightening through me. Thirteen paces, and tears cascaded down my face.

With familiar dread, I felt the nausea rise. It had been a long three days. The hallway distorted and lengthened as in a nightmare. Just seven steps, and I'd reach the toilet.

It seemed to take an hour. I mused on how time stretches, when we're hurting . The urge to pee built into an almost intolerable pain. My knees felt as if they were going to buckle. The smiling faces in the pictures on the walls mocked me. Open sobs began to escape my throat.

I sat on the cool seat, and vomited into the trash can. I let the urine stream begin. I felt a 'pop' as the stone passed. I knew from experience that this journey of misery had reached it's end, but another was sure to follow.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

For Swede

A litle boy sat on the floor,

playing checkers near the door.

When death tapped, Swede said "Go away!

I can't go now, I want to play!"

and death left him, for that day.

A young man sat beside his girl,

he held her close, his heart a-whirl.

Death rapped knuckles on the window,

Swede said, "You have got to go!"

"I'm trying to make a move, you know?"

A father held his toddler son,

glad that Death had spared this one.

A soft knock sounded 'cross the room,

Swede said, "Go away and take your doom!"

And kissed the soft cheek's rosy bloom.

A working man covered in grime,

went home each night for family time.

A firm strike echoed through the house,

Swede said, "Why, that must be a mouse!"

"Go away, now, Death; you louse!"

Early in the morning hours,

when the man had lost his powers,

Death came and took our Swede away.

I've rarely seen a darker day.

"Treat him gently," his loved ones pray.

Bye, Swede. Remember always how much we all love you.

Sunday, August 1, 2010

The memory challenge entry:

Ali crept into the kitchen. She nipped the nails on her shaking right hand. Her pale arms coiled around her chest, then uncoiled. Cooking dinner was torturous. The wooden spoons in their container caused her breathing to quicken, and her heart to pound.

'No, Mama, no!' Ali whimpered. 'Please! I didn't mean to break Great-Granny's doll! I just wanted to hold her! I'm sorry!' Ali begged. Her sobbing was fruitless. Her mother hauled her into the kitchen and grabbed a wooden spoon out of the drawer. She struggled as her mother threw her over the Formica counter. Her mother swore and bashed her with brutal force . She screamed for mercy until losing consciousness, fifteen blows later.

Ali blinked and her macaroni swam back into focus. "Thanks, Mom," she muttered, as tears rolled over the scars on her cheeks. She gulped a breath, grabbed a spoon and stirred the noodles.

Dear John letter entry:

Hey, Baby,

Just wanted to let you know that I've found someone new. I never meant to hurt you, but I just can't go on living with nothing but a ghost to hold me at night. I know you'll understand. I still hope to see your warm eyes and wide smile greet me, when my end comes.

You told me the week before your death that if it came to it, you didn't want long term life support. When you stopped breathing, I gave permission for them to intubate and breathe for you, to give you a chance to recover. Your blood pressure began to fall. I gave them my permission to administer drugs to try and elevate it, all in hopes that your lungs would heal.

By the time the blood pressure meds stopped working, your brainwaves had ceased. I told them to remove the tube.

You left me standing there, in a puddle of my own tears, shattered. Now he's come along to pick up the pieces. I still love you, I always will. But I love him, too. Try and be happy for me. I know it's hard, but I need your blessing.



Thursday, July 29, 2010


Hating, spating, berating,

~it's all adding up and deflating,

~~the delicate orb of my soul.

Prying, lying, sighing,

~I can't take anymore crying,

~~my sanity is not whole.

Bounder, flounders, rounder,

~as I scream and expounder,

~~the craziness of my day.

Seeping, creeping, weeping,

~oh-so gracefully leaping,

~~off the edge, and flying away.