tatanka-manantial

Fallen Angel in the Grips

He looks so much, so sadly, like you and me.

Face to face, I've seen him look so intense, coldly...

So charming at times, but through it all, still full of himself...

His empathy for others, his conscience completely on the shelf...

His eyes were those of my adoptive father as he beat me...

Or the fellow who murdered my roommate in seventy-three...

Or the alcoholic in his drunken rage, affected beyond care...

The cocaine addict i knew, looked like love but nothing there...

The man who beat my friend until she was blue and black

Bruises dealt in anger, holding nothing back, the psychopath

Doing mean things beyond what others would ever do...

Hurtful things, mingled with cruelty, mind-boggling to me and you...

What makes him, he? To torture, maim, or hurt you and me...

What lies behind the eyes of this monster that we see...

We can love him, hate him, lock him behind bars eternally...

One of life's greatest mysteries remains: what makes him, he?

I Took A Moment

I took a moment and wrapped it in cellophane,
My window pane
Frosty from icicle wands,
I imagined tropical greenery fronds,
In lieu, 'twas but my view a bit askew...

I stole a moment and hid it in a carousel,
Almost fell
Into the horse, of course, but swell,
The Music played its first serenade
While I made up my next charade

And I am telling lies, no lies, in school or out.
What is this poem about? you pout
What moments have you stolen lately
Aggravatingly staid
Wistfully said
Marmalade and bobby socks got nothing on you
But a few
Tensidently absovently hesitently
Oblivious and dew-full
Stolen moments
Between me and you...

Date With Perry

For years he's been my late night date...

This handsome, dark-haired lawyer...

His twinkling eyes,

in quiet surprise...

Solves the dangdest murders...

He pins the bad guys to the wall...

Justice always greets him...

He commands the judge's court in all...

No mystery eludes him...

My heartthrob stands so suave and strong...

No human man can match him...

Intrigue, he's cool; there is no wrong

Around him that can stay hidden...

He's clever and oh! so intelligent...

His manners are always high fashion...

Oh, yes, sincere, he's truly been

my loyal, faithful companion...

Of all the good guys i have seen...

There is no competition...

My late night date...

Television's great...

Picture-perfect Perry Mason !!!

My New Friend

My new friend is quite a gent, Colorful, unique and wonderful...

He wears a hat doffing his top, Dressing like a poet bountiful...

He has a gift with giving a lift Whenever one is feeling blue...

Encouraging writing about our lives, knowing it helps us through...

Big Daddy Cash is what we call him, William Cash Neve is his name...

Websites, Blogs, beau coup Media burst from his ever-creative brain...

When I met him, I was quite depressed, down-hearted from some hurt...

He encouraged me to express myself; shy, i was no expert...

But now the writing has become a way to outlet all the pain...

And, what do ya know, though i started out slow, i'm smiling once again...

My new friend is quite a gent, Caring, honest and huggable...

Big Daddy Cash, to one and all is...well...he's simply..."wuvvable" !!!

JANUARY 5TH, 2011

The mid-night light is darkness.  It surrounds me, warm, like a blanket.  The gas heater twinkles an amber light, like tiny gnomes coaling their fire buckets.  Contentment envelops me.  


It is my birthday.  Well, it is my "assigned" birthday...I was born in Korea, right at the end of the Conflict.  Being an orphan, my true birthdate is unknown.  The American Government can do anything.  They gave me a birthday.  Hallelujah.  I have a piece of rice paper with oriental writing on it that verifies my lacking a birthdate, mother, father, etc.  A piece of paper with no facts on it.  Interesting.  A blank slate.  I'd rather have a blank check...but, wait, isn't that what Life is.  We write in the value???  


Birthday wishes are always good.  Mine are to get my feet off the brake and onto the gas pedal !!!  And to get a clear picture where in the heck I am driving to.  You'd think at 58, I'd know what it is I am going to be when I get all growed up...but, noooo...I am still hanging out in my third or fourth adolescence.  Haha...


I do want to get my Doctorate before my Life goes too much further forward.  I should have done it years ago but I didn't really have the confidence.  Now I do?  Not really but running out of time is a reality for all of us once we pass 21... 


Well, these are my Birthday Musings for 2011.  Thanks for tuning in...  Happy Birthdays to all of us !!!!

TRUTH by Carla Hayes

This anxiety whittles at my stomach like an ever carving knife...
Has been with me since childhood midst that old tensionating strife...
A history book of happenings that springs before my eyes...
A thousand episodes of hurtful things, of punishment, of lies...
It wakes me every morning and moments in between...
It haunts me like a stalker when my body tries to sleep...
I see it in my son as he copes to strive with stress...
This companion, anxiety...this churning, burning mess...
It screams to me of misdeeds and things I never did...
It mocks me for shortcomings I thought I had well-hid...
It taunts me for the people who thought I meant them harm...
It never asks for truthfulness about the 'me' they thought as wrong...
It pleasures in its meanness...It is a living, breathing thing...
It plagues me and it hurts me...It has a dragon's wings...
I pray against my weakness...I pray against the storm...
I pray for Father's help with this, this nauseating worm...
I pray for understanding, both mine and God's above...
I pray for help to heal me through God's outpouring love...
Post traumatic stress disorder, depression and this angst...
Rise up to fight against me...Can others understand?
I fight an inner demon that tears me to the core...
I think I have it conquered, then it returns for more...
A look of criticism, a mocking from without...
An abandonment, betrayal of trust, or my own painful self-doubt...
All stir up the inner darkness...it comes quite unannounced...
Contrary on its onset...consistent in its pounce...
How deeply people hurt me by the things they have to say...
When they coldly misjudge me or treat me in demeaning ways...
I've tried to develop a thick-skin for without and for within...
But callouses elude me, leaving me...this condition I am in...
So praying I go onward...midst Life's unyielding thorns...
And try to believe in God and me...midst haughtiness, amidst scorns...
I know there is a healing...a merciful, compassionate balm...
That comes when God gently wraps me in His all-knowing arms...
I know that He believes in me despite what others think...
And I know He's here unconditionally when in despair I sink...
This is what has kept me alive midst hurt, loss and cutting pain:
Being in God's sheltering arms...again...again...again...
The loyalty of my dear son and many unwavering friends...
Our Father, beauty of Earth, endurance...on these i can depend...
And the Gift of God's Compassion, descended from above...
The blessing most truly healing?
  The sweet and true reality of Love.

LATE NIGHT REVERY

A special treat, laptop on desk, left by loved one, beckons me...
Calls me out of fitful slumber for a late night revery...
I listen to the quiet, an occasional car a'passing by...
The clicking of the furnace-- small, still sounds of the night...
My pet, dear  Silka, white Eskimo dog, stretches in her sleep...
I love the time she gives me; her companionship so deep...
Her little life a'breathing is truly such a gift...
Her trusting tenderness lends my soul a loving, consistent lift..
I think about my neighbors, the new friendships we have made...
I think of finding this safe place, this quiet, loving shade...
A tiny, warm-filled home...this cottage I have found...
Filled to the brim with furniture, needing decorating all around...
Oh, I have lots of boxes, books, my son's fun childhood toys...
A'stacked and a'cluttering; full of memory's loving noise...
Into this new life I am accepted, given room just to breathe...
To step to my own cadence: poetic, deep and free...
No one to criticize me, fix or blame me, just unconditional love...
A balm for what I've passed through; a gift from God above...
The past is left behind me out in the heartbreak hue...
The present possibilities come gently into view...
"Here" is where I've come to, working "through" as best I can...
Grateful to be surrounded by Souls who understand...
I think about the writing group, the wonderful weave of words...
The poet's life is written in a traveler's journey-filled world...
Recently, Love brought healing, new songs for a soul to sing,
Renewal of strength and stillness' calm, as I re-grow my wings...
Yes, it's a quiet night within one life, angels descend to bless...
As I find this rhyme, I know it's Heaven who brings about such bliss...
A simple song, a hymn of sorts, this late night thinking list...
A humble sort of thankfulness for God's sweet gift of Rest...
My heart's gratitude is deep and full for quiet's Tranquility...
This haven of  peace and mindfulness, this late night revery...

JASMINE'S FIRST POEM

This is my kitty Emily.

She is very small.

She is also very tall.

She is very neat.

She is also very sweet.

I love her with all my heart.

She is very very smart.