The leaves are starting to put on their autumn coats and the weather is becoming crisp and cool.  When I get up in he morning I can feel that the winter coldness is not too far in the future because the bathroom tiles hold the chill of the night.

Even with the freezing cold weather inevitably on its way, I'm not dreading it as I have in the past.  I have discovered you and known you intimately.  There is a natural warmth about you that no snow storm could ever ice over.  Your arms have warmed me; your lips have tasted mine and mine yours; your hands have held mine; your eyes have looked into my very soul and loved me.

Your body took my body into yours, making me know the pleasures of the flesh; but you were always more giving than taking; leaving me limp from your love.

You made me laugh, big belly laughs; your eyes twinkled with mischief soon to come.  You loved me, loved me unconditionally and I will hold you in my heart and soul forever.

Your passing was too soon; my love.....you were my first love, and I will never, never forget you.  I will always love you until death due us part........... 

The other day I wrote a post about what I (non-theological) felt prayer is.  I guess I feel pretty passionate about the subject (which surprises me) because it's still in the forefront of my mind.  And while I don't like to be negative (and I'm hoping this post WON'T be, but by just saying that I've put a negative in there), I'm thinking about what prayer isn't...at least according to the gospel of Bfth (the unordained non-theologian.)

Prayer is NOT a publicity stunt.  That is not to say that prayer should not or cannot be done publicly or with a group of people (large or small).  But praying is not a way to show the world how "religious" or "good" you are.  It's not a show.  It's not a test that you get graded on.  As I pointed out yesterday:  "And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others."  (Not my words; they come from Matthew.) When groups of people pray together the intent SHOULD BE holy, NOT showy.  As I see it, one of the problems with public prayer is that it seems (and in many cases may well be) to be done for show. That is not what the intention of prayer SHOULD be.

Prayer is NOT public.  Again that is not to say it should be done in public, but prayer should be intensely personal.  It is a conversation between you and God, the Universe, etc.  You don't pray because John Doe says you should.  You don't pray because Jane Smith is praying.  You pray because you NEED to.  You pray because there is something inside of you that needs to be shared.  

Prayer is NOT a wish list.  Praying does not bring new cars or a pony for your birthday.  (Sorry!) Prayer CAN act as a self-motivator.  So while prayer won't put a new car in your driveway, it can help you help yourself to save for/work toward purchasing one.

Prayer is NOT rote.   It's not something to be done thoughtlessly. It is not something you go through the motions for; it needs to have meaning.  People pray at different times and in different ways.   That's the way it needs to be as we are all unique individuals with our own distinct way of connecting through prayer. You don't have to be on bended knee to pray.  You don't have to speak outloud to pray.  When you pray, do it YOUR way.

Prayer is NOT something that is done once and tossed away. Prayer can be simple, it does not have to be complex.  But prayer is NOT easy. Prayer is a commitment.  A commitment to yourself and the one/the thing you are praying for.   It takes work.  It means giving of yourself.  Which leads me to...

Prayer is NOT passive.  Prayer requires action.  Prayer is NOT the end...it is the beginning.  It is an opportunity to start new and wonderful things.

Why am I crying?

Endless tears just keep falling;

sadness overwhelms me in ways that feel so permanent

I don't even know why I'm crying; why they won't stop.

I should be somewhat happy; yet happiness

eludes me like a ghost unseen.

My feelings of sadness are so deep; slipping me deep

down my well of hell....and I don't know why.

It has been a long time since I have felt this helpless...

this hopeless; this sadness; this depression.

Have I really forgotten how to smile 

and only remember how to cry?

Have I really lost what love I had in my life

and remember only pain?

Oh heart, deceitful heart; why do you torment me so?

My heart; oh heart; where have you tossed the love

I once had known?

I yearn to be loved like the desert yearns for water

I yearn to be loved like the child without a mother

I yearn to be loved like a woman by a man

who sees me for who I am, not what I can

do

My arms are so empty, and longed to be filled

with the tender embrace of a man 

a man who is in love with me; the good and the bad

the perfect and the imperfect

who accepts me and can see no other before me

a man who puts me first in his life; as I put him first in mine

isn't that how love is suppose to be?

Please God; fill the emptiness that is me

fill the heart that is crushed

God, I pray thee; send me the love You have

always meant for me

Hear my desperation; hear my prayer, my plea;

for without you, none of this can be.

I will die without love, unconditional love; 

I will die

The Dreams are Over

My heart is breaking, my tears fall freely over the  events of this day.  How can something so wonderful turn so horrible in a matter of minutes?  How can love turn to hate in the snap of a finger?

I have been on this planet 65 years and have done nothing of any significance...fulfilled none of MY dreams and aspirations.  I have given all for everyone else's needs; although I'm sure some of them don't think that way.  They will never know all that I have freely given up so their dreams would become realities.

Now for the very first time; one of my dreams is becoming real; and a person I love so dearly cannot accept the fact that all of my time is devoted to making it a reality.  I never, never meant to hurt him; but he says he is so disappointed in me........to the point of yelling at me and saying the most awful things to me.......about me.

I know that I will never be good enough, have never been good enough for anyone in my life; and that was proven to me tonight.  Sleep will evade me this night......tears will find their way to my pillow most of this night.  How could I ever believe the cycle of  domineering and controlling men in my life would ever be broken.  I have learned my lesson well.  To do as I am told; to have no opinions of my own or pursuits of my own...to only do the will of  others.  It has been this way since I was a child and it continues still.

I have been verbally taken down.........I don't know my way up.  I have been dragged down into my well of hell; left to rot, left to die.  I don't know how to crawl out this time and the truth is; I don't really want to.  Staying here means that I will be a burden to no one.  This is where I belong until  death comes to take me home. 

Pictures on the floor

Where did she go?

She's gone and I didn't even know

How'd she leave without even making a sound

I know that she was once here;

her memories are littered all across

this room.

Pictures of her smiling,

pictures of her laughing,

pictures of her dancing;

pictures of her life in full bloom

But where did she go, when did

she leave?

Look closer at the pictures, maybe

you'll see her story unfold.

The tears behind the laughter,

the frown behind the smile;

the dance that was her, running away

from a life that she was never allowed to let blossom

and bloom.

When did she go,

when did she leave,

when were her dreams shattered;

when was she broken, like a china doll

pushed off the shelf?

Why are the pieces left thrown all across the floor?

No Time Girl

🐦💀

The Well is deep

it's dark inside-sliding down ain't no carnival ride

No laughing; just screaming as the final plunge arrives

Hit the bottom, grind the gears,

Just can't stop those speeding fears from closing in;

grabbing the soul--they've got the control

they've got the hold--

finally strangling this prey's crashing emotional soul.

No time to scream, girl;

They've takin away your voice--

No time to cry, girl;

They've taken 'way your tears;

replaced them silicone drops that sting and burn--

No time to talk, girl;

They've taken away anyone who might have listened;

and left silence for you to taste and all it's bitterness.

No time to fight, girl--

Your fighting days for what once was you has burned into ashes;

No time for clashes, girl; for last chances at

Saving any sweetness

No time girl, no time is left girl;

All you've been left with is

Death.

A Lonely, Lonely Christmas

Little Lost Me

When did Christmas stop being magical and start being so lonely?  I used to love putting the tree up, wrapping the packages; baking all those cookies and breads; filling the house with "Christmas smells". 

All the decorations meant so much to me....now, I feel so little in my heart for any of it.  As a child; it was like magic filled the air, the house; as the days got closer and closer to the Big Day.  I never slept much on Christmas Eve.....after the party at the neighbors, midnight Mass........then bed....with all those sugar plums dancing in my head. 

But as time passed and the child in me grew to an adult; some of the magic faded.  My first Christmas as a wife...at 19 yrs old; was filled with all the love of two young lovers; totally wrapped up in the spirit of Peace and Love.

That didn't last too long....just a couple of years and as the marriage soured; everything in me soured.  All that was left when that marriage ended was the daughter we had and my intense love for her....determined that she would not see me cry and would feel all the excitement a 3 year old should feel.  Santa Clause was real again; and my Christmas was devoted to her.....because there was no Christmas left inside me.

Yes; I married again......and for a brief time, I was happy........gave birth to another beautiful daughter and raised 3 step daughters along with my 2.  But time passes, life gets filled with nonsense things; children grow up; I worked to put them through school, keep a roof over their heads and food on the table.  So mixed up with the "practical", that the "magic" vanished; Christmas became an unwelcome ritual........and love died in my heart for the man whose name I shared.

Now; in 2016; there is no feelings of joy at all.  I'm tired of pretending; of trying to find anything to grasp onto about what Christmas is.  Christmas days are now spent alone with a husband who spends his time in his room watching tv.......and I'm left alone in the living room or at my computer.  The one joy I have are my 3 kitties; who I love so much and they love me unconditionally.  But it's not the same as having a partner who loves me, hugs me, holds me in his arms; and kisses me softly and passionately.

I miss being loved like a woman is loved by a man; especially at Christmas.