Unidentified #poetry #abuse #photography

 

 

You, Incapable of feeling

or so it seems

I, possessed by terror

resides in dreams

cast a spell

in this heart of mine

red dripping ink

 from a living hell

you callous fiend

no friend of mine

you sacrificed

a love so fine

I turn away

write painful verse

loose the bonds

release the curse

a child once

no longer am

a whipping post

scarred face and hands

*

cold stone welcome

each day a path away from pain

freedom’s warmth

moon photo

Many children, women know abuse at the hand of another. It seems that one thrives on causing pain while the other is starved for love. The one never feels and the other becomes numb to feeling. Unfortunately (for the abused) being whipped is better than being cast into the pit of “forgotten.”

It can take a lifetime to walk away; even may mean waking to the reality of cold stone.

 

The prompt this week at Poet’s United is Identity

Nothing can pull us away… #devotion

stream
 Oh the days are hard
the path is rocky
and my feet are weary
where can I go to find sleep?
Is there any protection
from the sky that is falling
trying to enter the reason
of my mind?
“Nothing can preserve you except…”
you hear this over and over
“just give in
give up…”
the silent tormentor
has gained a voice
in my head
and I am raw with fear
“Give In
We can help…”
But what are they offering?
More importantly what are they taking?
God’s love doesn’t evoke fear –
it’s result is peace
God’s love doesn’t evoke anger or hatred –
it causes us to love those who hate us
God’s love does not require us to destroy ourselves or others
IT is a trickling (healing) stream in the midst of the darkest night

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?…

Neither height nor depth, nor any other created things, will be able to separate us from the Love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”   ~Romans 8:35 and 39

 

 

 

Hatsu Arashi – First Storm #haiku #photography

barometric pressure

In flashing thunder

I cower but for assurance

winds will soon cease

*

still cradling hope

willing the fear to subside

storm’s end in sight

 

At Carpe Diem Hatasu Arashi or the First Storm is today’s prompt. I’m still getting used to the regularity of storms in my new home.

 

Photograph: Barometric Pressure © L. Moon 2013

Late Night Call #mystery #microfiction


In the midst of a perfect dream  the phone rang.

“Who’s calling at 2 in the morning? I yawned.

“Hello. What? Where are you honey?”

“My car broke down. I ‘m stranded at a phone booth on Hillcrest.”

“Ok honey let me call the police, stay there, and I will come  get you.”

“Noooo…” I heard my daughter’s frantic scream on the other end of the line.

“Honey, HONEYYYYY….Help is coming!!!”

I left the phone line open.

After  pounding on the third neighbor’s door,  I rushed in and called the police.

The number you have reached is no longer in service.” 

“There is no one there maam…”

Thanks to Jenny the gracious hostess at Centus Saturday. This week’s prompt: “The number you have reached is no longer in service”  ~ Enjoy!

The eyes of the Wolf

http://www.flickr.com/photos/flyingturtle/465785165/

 

Peering in deep golden eyes

something there behind the glow

What’s he thinking

does he know?

Feeling heat rise from his fur

resonating deadly grrr

seething from deep within

will I lose this fight or win?

Crouching low as if to spring

steady now keep your head

lest he realize my fear

In his eyes am I dead???

 

Written for a writing prompt at With Real Toads

 

thanks to Steve Loya for the photo and Creative Commons http://www.flickr.com/photos/flyingturtle/465785165/

Pain – Fear – Cancer #oneshotwednesday #poetry #cancer

How do you douse 20 years of pain

that falls like sheets of  pouring rain?

with a needle, a pill

or  a strong stubborn will?

***

How do you face unfaceable fear?

the adversary today certainly not clear

A shotgun, a dagger

an act, a feigned swagger?

**

How do you battle multiple growths of  Cancer?

For so many I wish I held the answer

strong arms  a bucket for the tears

truck load of warm loving prayers

****

To you who suffer there is no plan but there is in fact a place to turn.

I’ve heard there were no atheists in the foxhole.

I assure you there are few who don’t seek the strong arms of a God in a Cancer ward.

As I write this, I am packing to go to a cancer hospital to find out where my cancer is at.

( I do believe in miracles;  I have experienced way too many to not believe in victory.)

When I face fear I get rather cold and distant – if any of you have felt this from me please don’t take it personally.

I guess this would constitute as a gray poem not dark

Happy One Shot to all and thanks to each for their contribution.

Thanks for the photo of this grafitti piece: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wilderdom/266650346/