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I cry not for the pain felt upon Man

But for the pain felt upon animal--

For Man knows and can understand pain

While animals are innocent to the

Reasons of their suffering...

Peace And Tragedy

Unlike tragedy,

Peace has a strange glow to it and

Peculiar pastels of

Mellow oranges and

Soft pinks

Hover in one corner of the soul.

A star of black promises despair

While a lucky blue streak of hope

Hangs in the air.

The prince of snakes

Kneels before

The fence of flowers.

A serpent appears

Displaying its powers

While the roses bloom for hours.

Peace and Tragedy....

How like the calm, contented cat

That walks unknowingly into

The black widow's trap.

My Son Has No Ears and Four Mouths

whoever said that youth is wasted on the young is-- simply said: my hero. my theory is-- all kids are genetically predisposed to not listen, especially to their parents. hence why mistakes repeat themselves. us older more experienced folk have so much to share, to teach the young, but perhaps it is by not listening that the young will learn, as they need to experience as well. in short, the older generation, with wisdom in tow, has all this knowledge with no where to. what a pitiful tragic waste of a beautiful thing.

When Life Goes My Way

Even when life goes my way, I quickly look for the next worry..(now that can't be right.) Is there something just fundamentally wrong with me? Why am I so quick to dismiss happiness--as fleeting as my happy feelings may be-- as an alarm button to be on the alert for my next crisis? Why, I wonder, am I so prone to looking for the worst, or at the very least, a dilemma? Am I not capable of simply enjoying the here and the now when I am actually feeling good? What makes me put up the old familiar red flag whenever all is seemingly okay? Is it because "seemingly" is the key word? And that I just don't really believe in "okay?" Do I want to ditch "okay" before it ditches me? Is this some sort of warped defense mechanism? I know I want to feel good and at peace (for I accept actual happiness as only a brief at best but wonderful feeling nonetheless.) and I actually see peace as the true sign of success...however; I almost cringe in disbelief when life goes my way and I shy away and accuse it of being misleading and cruel--in short, falsehoods. This good cannot be for me. Am I even worthy? I'm much more comfortable in my self made and/or brain imposed misery so when life throws me a meaty bone --I'm like please, do not play with me. I respond in a cautious way and demand my familiar meatless brittle bone, because I know that type of living and how dare it change on me without proper notice! Am I a cynic, or just a realist? Am I cheating myself out of all the good life has to offer as well as all the good I myself can derive from it? I thought I appreciate all the good I can get. or.... do I? When things are bad, I can relate to that and thereby justify my pain....but when things are good, how do I justify anything???

My Twenty Year Struggle

"I sought the LORD, and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears." - Psalm 34:4

I have suffered and struggled with, tolerated, compensated for, sought medical help, psychological help, my own spriritual help, drank gallons of beer, upgraded to vodka last year and continued to self medicate...as social and sarcastic and fun loving as I am-- I have nonetheless been a recluse, a shut in, a hermit, a bed clinger, a fear dweller, a death wisher, a self hater, a self blamer, ashamed, confused, embarrassed, and desperately existing in total despair. In short, when I was 28, my first full blown out of the blue what the hell is this rush to the emergency room panic attack happened...and since then, the down hill continued. When I got fired from my job in Sept. 2009, (due to attendance issues, what else?) I sunk to the lowest of lows in the most severest of ways. I was afraid of everything, from darkness to driving to life itself. My fears, phobias, and obsessions ruled my every thought and breath. By the grace of God, I found just enough strength to be driven for medical attention in april 2010, and the very next day (april 16, 2010) I poured out my vodka--every true alcholic always remembers the exact day--and I have not touched a drop of booze since then...and have been on my way to leading and having my life back. I still will not drive, as some fears now are just memories that still I let control me...but I have come light years in this healing process, and I owe it all to my faith and to the treasured blessings Jesus and Mary, God and the saints have bestowed upon me.

My Woodburning Stove

 The fire crackles, it pops--

The world comes alive.

My spirit it rouses

And I feel I can thrive.

The music is mellow.

My mind takes it in.
No tension here.
I forget my past sins.

Peace is my ali.

I have a right to feel good.

Flashing fiery colors

Tell me I should.

I should know the joys

And the wonders I fear.

No worries now.

No guilt is here.

The fire, it flickers.

I gaze and I gaze.

I feel a world opening--

And I am amazed!

Pleasure and love

And laughter and good...

And all this because of

My warm burning wood.

Love Hopes

"And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us." - Romans 5:5

Crying for what was
Never does a bit of good--
But if I could feel the past...
How we were , oh yes, I would!
I awake trembling every morning,
Afraid to face the day...
Yet also loving life
But please, just not this way.
Something, somewhere, somehow
Has just gotten so confused.
Love is deep inside us
But outside, we are abused.
I cry, I sigh, I wish.
For us, I ache so much.
How could our loving souls
Grow so far out of touch?
Our apologies, so frequent,
Echo in my mind.
Feeble are these words that
Make me feel so blind.
Blank and empty; scared.
I want to know we are okay.
Afraid to embrace the now...but
Tomorrow's another day.

Blue Apple

The blue apple is a symbol of sarcasm.

The eagle sleeps on windless days.

Can apples fall from their trees

Even when there is no breeze?

The eagle is wakened by the noon sun's rays.

The blue apple is a sin to be feared.

The eagle is powerful and continues to fly.

To defeat a fear is to defeat a sin...

But apples are soon ripened again

For fertile seeds can never die.

Holed Up In My Room

what exactly IS left to say when there is nothing left to feel---save for defeat, anxiety, and fear?....which by NO MEANS add up to Anything...so, i guess what i mean to ask, is: what exactly is there left to say when there is nothing left to feel but so much negativity and fear...?? but, i digress, as i so often do...folk tell me: TOUGHEN UP, or, JUST RELAX....cool, i can relate...except for ONE THING: where's the manual on that shit????  i have no instructions on the following HOW TO'S: relax, toughen up, snap outa it, get it together, stop whining, whadda ya want me to do about it, you know what you have to do, just do it, ---OH MY GAWD!!! WHAT THE HELL!!!  i know this is all said to me outa love, but simply cuz ya say what i all ready KNOW i gotta do DOES NOT MEAN i can do it. it also doesn't mean that i dont know how. just means...i can't. not now. want or not. desire has no part in this. never has. call me a social outcast. call me whatever. i'm so social tho, that's what i don't get. i'm a paradox of wanting and knowing how but of can't and don't want to due to fear etc. wild. and terrifying. i hate it. damn it all....ok, few months later, no better really, just more bitter. and i might add- a tad more paranoid. being holed up in your room i suppose tends to do that to one. this is so not my fault, yet i will balance a shitload of self imposed guilt on me daily, as well as guilt i feel i should just have for extra flavor, whatever, but nonetheless, i know intellectually logically medically etc that THIS is not my fault...yet...i still feel soooo frail and ashamed and alarmed and hurt and scared and inactive and overwhelmed and lost and lonely and lonely lonely lonely( LONELY worthe mentioning more than once) as no one gets it, or seems to--not even ME AND I'M THE ONE EXPERIENCING IT-- so go figure. i hate me. pure and simple. simple minded. (i wish!) one thing i'm not. (i wish) ignorance, as "they" say is bliss...how i miss bliss. bliss now only comes in a bottle marked heavenly hill (vodka, circa 2009) and it is bliss, temporary at best, but a gal like me does deserve an honest break, doncha think???

nov.15,2009

"May the LORD answer you when you are in distress; may the name of the God of Jacob protect you." - Psalm 20:1

Where Did Julie Go?

august 11, 2009

....i USED to be there...for sure i KNOW I WANT to be there...i just don't know, if, i am...or, if i even care. Whoever is here now--it's NOT ME. i know that much for sure.
and it's not like it's been a recent thing. i have not been me since i was 28 yrs old. i can almost pinpoint the exact freakin day, right down to what i was doing, right before i... disappeared.
  Mind you now, i didn't choose to "disappear"---it happened TO ME. and..... i've been fighting it ever since. sometimes fiercely, sometimes quietly, sometimes desperately, sometimes wrongly...but fighting nonetheless. and i'm fuckin exhausted. truly fucking exhausted. sometimes i can accept this "new" me as really i seem to have no choice=afterall= wherever i go, i follow, ya know. so i figured, can't fight it, join it. that however never brought the original me completely back. and that's not fair. that sucks big time. and it saddens me so severely...so fucking severely. i'll be whoever i am, but i still want some say in the matter. "overcoming this anger that i've come to know, lacking a peace of mind i've lost some time ago" (streisand song quote). not an easy task. i'm sick of challenges. if we are spirits of power, calm, and sound mind and not ones of fear (as the bible tells us)...then why, i ask, am i so full of fear??? at times, paralyzing fear. no lie. just agonizing fear. emotional despair. someone close to me recently said that i just must like "feeling sorry" for myself. how not true!! i MAY FEEL SORRY FOR MYSELF BUT!! i definitley do NOT LIKE IT. another close one said that i'm not supposed to change who i am or keep attempting to rid this other part of me that has taken over...but to accept it, which like i said earlier, i've tried doing that because it just made good sense to me back then (and i'm nothing if not logical) and it actually still makes sense. this person, just last night in fact said to me that once i truly ACCEPT this me, or this part of me, then the fear will begin to dissipate...because i will be giving it nothing to feed on. of course, i tell him, human instinct tells me to run from things that scare me, but THAT HAS NEVER STOPPED IT. only when i say, ok, come here, i'm yours, come get me, be me, do whatever the hell you want, ONLY THEN will it stop, only then will i feel the calm again, the me i once was...and the OLD ME is back, at least temporarily so. and that's how i've been living. not the best way to live. it's quite stressful...but my cross to bear i suppose and a heavy, painful one at that. very painful. no one knows. no one. oh, i mean folk close to me do "know" about this part of me, but no way do they, could they, or would i ever WANT them to, actually know what it feels like. for now, i will be grateful to breathe, and to love. and no longer will i ask myself: where did julie go? for she's right here, as sincere as ever, a tad older for sure, definitely a tad wiser, and for sure a lot more aware and appreciative of the life and gifts around her...

ps  and a most happy birthday tomorrow, to you, korey, with love

Wooden Owl

A wooden owl with

Round yellow eyes

Hangs on my wall with two pins

Hearing my lies,

Seeing my sins.
Owl of wood, of dulling brown--
How great to be so wise and
To never utter a single sound
Save for when in anger

I swing your blocky chimes together

Proving knowledge you have not

For even though a sound you did so make
I relish to recall
That a hand of mine it so did take--
Making me the wiser afterall.
Oh, you old wooden owl with
Round yellow eyes--
Still watching my life,
Still hearing my cries.

dedicated to another teenage memory....

SANDCASTLE

There is a sandcastle blowing past me.

The wind whips my plain face,

 Lashing me with grains of sand.

It stings.

The ocean is roaring.

The seagulls, soaring

Above my head

Make me think about being dead.

Would my spirit fly--HIGH!--

Like these birds in the sky?

And could I drift and float

And then soar some more

And sail like a boat

And glide and dive,

And arrive in Heaven?

The sandcastle is beautiful.

So is death.

A 70's Teen

 to memories...

Old, dusty rock albums

Atop a yellow paint-chipped shelf;

Reflections from my past...

My yesterday self.

A black and white tv

With a paper rose for one antennae.

A blue velvet Peace poster

Tacked on the sliding closet door.

A green milk crate "table"

Holding spiral notebooks and more.

A weeping girl

Harboring negative outlooks

Stemming from distorted insights.

If I asked you to,

Would you follow me

Without asking where we were going?

The fire crackles, it pops--My spirit it rouses

The world comes alive.

And I feel I can thrive.

The music is mellow.

My mind takes it in.
No tension here.
I forget my past sins.

Peace is my ali.

I have a right to feel good.

Flashing fiery colors

Tell me I should.

I should know the joys

And the wonders I fear.

No worries now.

No guilt is here.

The fire, it flickers.

I gaze and I gaze.

feel a world opening--

And I am amazed!

Pleasure and love

And laughter and good

And all this because of

My warm burning wood.

The fire crackles, it pops--

The world comes alive.

The fire crackles, it pops--

The world comes alive.

Dragonslayer

There once lived a boy named James

Who lived to kill the dragon--
If too many were killed...

Oh, the blood James could spill!

He'd carry them home in his wagon
And make an offering to his King
Of treasured dragon meat.
He'd deliver these tasty morsels
To his King's beloved feet.

"Eat these dragons, Master,

Before their fiery breath grows cold."

And James' payment always was

One silvery bag of gold.

Yes, there once lived a boy named James

Who was relentless in his quest

To hunt the dragon beast

And to be the very best.

Mystical times amongst us...

The King grants many a medieval wish--

Yet no prize reigns so coveted as

The scrumptious dragon dish!

If too many were spared--

Oh the rage the crowd shared...

As there once lived a boy named James.

DIFFERENCES

You love illusions and dreams.

I love truth and what's real.

You want everything you can have.
I want all I can feel.
I love to love and be loved.
You say emotions are dumb.
I get lost in my plans.
You get lost in your rum.
Did we ever want the same things?
Yes, we did, I suppose--
But you are off some place else now...
And it is not where I chose.

Black Panthers

Black panthers stalk your dreams.

You tell me that is your way of

Preparing to prey upon

The next woman you crave.

I let you fondle me with your eyes.

Does it really surprise me for you

To have the power to see through me?

I insist you do not know me.

That is such a shock to you.

The game is not mastered yet

For if you can through me

Then you have missed seeing

Everything inside of me.

Black panthers stalk your dreams.

You tell me they symbolize you

And your hunt for love.

Oh why cannot you see

How wrong that that is?

Clowns Change Meaning

A jester jumping in my mind...

Such silliness--this brain clown,

This master of Jokes--

Yet I still feel so down.

No laughter; just reflection.

I cry for my past.

Why, when things should,

They still just don't last?

Is not a promise a promise-

A vow still a vow?

Commitment and Loyalty-

Do not we know how?

I am broken, and shattered.

Jesters just tease.

The young girl I once was

Is now down on her knees.

Begging, and prideless.

So beyond feeling proud.

I humble myself to this new Jester Crowd

Of youth and bright futures

And hope with no fear.

I have been there before

But now I am here.

Locked in Adulthood.

So grown up, that is me--

Though the questions still come

And still, I am not free.

Clowns, they still dance and

Humor surrounds me, but

Forever Mature Status

Continues to bound me.

Humility inflicted, and

With wisdom in tow,

I will comfort The Young.

I will whisper: I know....

(to all those who grew up when their backs were turned)

A Young Girl's Thoughts

Swiftly, like a doe,
The earth changes course.
My instinct is to hide
From this invading force.
Disarmed, I am.
Disillusions, too many.
I search for reason...
There is not any.
My mind feels raw,
Naked and abused.
No control here.
It hurts to feel used.
I once marveled at justice
And I insisted on fairness.
With age comes experience, and
Unasked for awareness.
Without any warning
Life burns and it bites.
I just want to survive.
Oh please, no more fights.

Sweat pours from my brow.

I watch and I wait.

Will tomorrow bring peace--

Or just more bitter hate?

I cling to past joys.

At the stars I do sigh.

I push to keep going.

I tremble. I cry.

Just what can be said

About trying to live?

I say it's about love,

And all we can give.

To Stay Or Flee

The sun low in the sky
Appears captive by white clouds,
And the mountains, hazy blue,
Clothed as if in shrouds.
The evening air turns cooler
And I shiver a bit inside.
Hard to believe, feeling this calm,
That earlier today I cried.
The horizon is a painting--
Pastels of orange and blue.
My heart beats out an answer--
The truth of me and you.

For now, it is only me and

This fantastic thing called sun...

Yet something still inside me

Whispers I should run

Back to the place I know--

My warm seaside hometown,

Yet fate has other plans,

And it is here I shall abound.

So wipe away that tear.

Hold my head up high.

Surrounded by love, I am,

Like the sun low in the sky. 

Empty Nest

I hurt my children daily--
Children, I say, children?
Young adults really..

Now that is silly

To not even see

The fine young adults

They have come to be!

They grew up and away

Without me.

They grew up and away
Despite me.
Even now, I hurt them daily,
Like a ritual unplanned

I plead for them to forgive

And to perhaps even understand...
True, they were so little
When I became a divorced mother.
True, we found comfort
In clinging to one another.
I sense my time is over now
And their need for me, not there.

What does a mother do

With all this extra care?

I consider that just maybe

They grew up fine because of me
And finding their new place is
 How it is meant to be.
New phases, change--that's life...
Moving onto that next stage.
My children are my babies--
I say, at ANY age!
But letting go oh letting go,
And finding my new place...
How odd to feel a smile
On my tired, sullen face--
As letting go, I realize, is
Just a new embrace!

The First Star

The first star is never bold.

It appears from nowhere, like a tear,

And it shimmers only slightly.

The first star is never bold.

It sneaks upon the dusk,

Quiet and unannnounced.

It's strength--where does it come from--
I wonder, as I make a wish,
Yet another wish
Upon this shy celestial part of
The early evening sky.

Fantasy Visits

(to all those who have "survived" divorce.....)

Only wisps of yesterday...

Memories so fragile.

Deliberately, with a purpose,

I seek to think about him.

At night I even dream....

Dreamy creamy dreams that cruelly

Melt away upon the opening of my eyes.

With guilty surprise

I realize that I am wrong

To want to replay these familiar

Yet distant songs.

I harshly scold myself, and

Go on about my day,

Waiting only for the night

To take me back his way.

I have earned my freedom

From yesterday's sheer hell.

"Get on with your life" is a phrase

I do know well.

Yet a force remains which taunts

And a voice is here that haunts--

And I linger over thoughts that

I should never ever have.

Secretly I embrace

These pictures in my mind.

With a passion I admit that

 I only want to find

If this foolishness is mine alone.

Ohhhh, just let me sleep.

Please, just let me sweetly moan....