Redemption
My heart seeks a strong redemption
Freedom from your biting chains
The sun is beset by storm clouds
it’s time life was lived again
I am alone I see you out there
bound by your pathway full of fear
A never ending winding journey
That snakes on and on throughout the years
It is your face behind the shadows
Fading from the gift of light
taking from your world of madness
that brings my never ending night
The time has come for me leave now
to cleanse away your fatal sins
The moment and the memory
your game nobody could ever win
Corruption
YOU opened up the doorway
AND risked a look inside.
YOU couldn’t share the vision
AND the truth you had to hide.
YOU didn’t build the pyramid
AND structure things just right.
YOU went and split the atom
AND were blinded by sunlight.
YOU forgot to use a mirror
AND bounce it all around.
YOU turned away, closed the eye
AND didn’t speak a sound.
YOU didn’t see me watching
AND knowing all the lie.
YOU kept on chaining spirit
AND didn’t hear it’s sigh.
YOU lusted for more power
AND greed went hand in hand.
YOU acquired gold and diamonds
AND built castles in the sand.
YOU built up debt to Mother Earth
AND that will never be repaid.
YOU reaped the crop that you sowed
AND laid in the bed you made.
YOU have asked for nature’s fury
AND that is exactly what you’ll get.
YOU know nature is the balance
AND at dawn the sun will set.
Ever blown your stack?
Ever ranted and raved and carried on?
If so then you have emotion….
Ever been really hurt and cried for days?
(bet you felt better afterwards)
and that brings me to the subject on my widdle mind today …
Emotions.
Do we hide them or do we leave them open to be as they are?
as we grow we are taught to refrain, to control and to ignore our emotions.
In today’s society we even have little happy pills that take care of our emotions for us and dampen them so that we do not feel emotion. We are taught as we grow to control oursleves. Not to feel or to even think too deeply.
Yeah I get it.. emotion hurts. The easy way out is to take one of those pills and dull the senses from that emotion.
However I’m not like that. I have never hid my emotions.
Because I truly believe that emotion = heart = passion.
and I am a passionate person. Without passion life is bland and boring and I feel that to exist as opposed to living life fully is not what I wish to become in life.
We are often told not to cry, not to yell or not to be upset. Let it go, be the better peron and ignore it… ah YES ignore it. Ignore yourslf and what your body spirit and mind is trying to tell you.
how often do you ignore yourself?
How often do you hide from your emotions?
I read an interesting letter from one of my so called support agencies the other day which basically stated that I am very articulate but emotional.
I’m proud of that. I guess it wasn’t written in a positive light but who cares. I am emotional. I am proud of my emotions because my emotions really tell me what is going on around me.
Is it rational to control ones feelings or is it more rational to be natural and to feel and experience ALL there is to experience.
How can you hide your emotion and yet love freely?
How can you dampen your feelings and still feel freely?
How can you truly know yourself if you hide from what you feel?
You can’t You become a little less human and a little more robotic. You lose individuality. You lose your sense of self. You become something a little less than yourself. You, the inner you becomes hidden behind an emotionless mask.
I cry I laugh I love I hate but most of all I live and I live to my utmost. I see I think I touch I taste I hear but most of all I feel through life.
I won’t hide my emotion.
I will feel what there is to feel whether it be joy or sadness melancholy or despair.
and by doing that I will go on… I will move forward and not be kept stagnant, I will not be trapped or held hostage by those very emotions kept tightly locked within my mind, slowly damaging my soul until I too become that robotic emotionless thing.
I love my life. I love it all. I take it all and accept it all.
It hurts
It sux sometimes
But it rocks too
It is hard for me to find the Christmas Spirit this year. I am sorry for neglecting my Santa duties here on myspace but life got in the way in the form of my children being sacrificed for everyone else’s intents and purposes.
Unfortunately there is some things I can’t blog about publicly at present. I am sorry I am blogging some blogs on preferred at present but those blogs are for close IRL friends and family only. So please do not take it personal if you are not on that list.
Yesterday I wandered sadly through the shopping centre with Kiralea and Kaelan. It was a lonely time for us and very quiet without the presence of the three little ones.
I stopped and watched wistfully as a family of grown up children posed to have what looked like their annual photo with Santa. Their parents stood by beaming proudly. The smiliarities between the siblings was amazing and it was a bittersweet moment as i watched their friendly and easy banter back and forth as they jovially stood there.
It was a happy time. One of the young men seated at the front had a bell in his hand and every now and then he excitedly rang it. I glanced at his brother standing behind him, wondering if they were twins. Suddenly the man at the front started shaking his knees together and jumping up and down.
His sister who was seated next to him laughed and gently put her hand on his leg to calm him down. I could see now that he was disabled and it twisted the knife in my heart deeper as I thought of Brodie, alone without me now for the first time in his life.
The snap was taken, a moment in time to treasure. Laughing and smiling the family stepped down to approach their parents. Straight away the disabled lad went up to his father and enveloped him in a big bear hug. His father laughed, his son was almost as big as him and had near knocked him over.
His brother, who I suspected was his twin reached for his arm and they moved away in union, both holding each other and laughing before beginning to play fight and wrestle without a care to the stares of the shoppers around them.
I watched on in silent wonder and fascination. The tears now ran down my cheeks as I noticed the derisive stares from those who had to sidestep the happy family as they bustled their way through the commercial atmosphere.
The grown up children all laughed at the antics of their brother who could not contain his excitement at the moment. The innocence of christmas, the love of a family. The acceptance and pure love of the brother who was different. The family moved off, the disabled brother dancing his way up the mall on the arm of his mother.
I finally looked away, back at the santa booth which was now busy taking the photo of a small screaming baby. No Santa happy shots for my family this year. No happy christmas for my babies as I watch their adorable faces light up opening gifts and discovering new wonders.
I would of liked a copy of that family’s photo. It meant something to me. It meant the heart is still there. Love does exist and family means togetherness and happiness and acceptance and all that is good on this Earth.
I wrote this one two years ago for my Santa profile. Ihad to drag it out and re read it just to give me some hope again.. cos it’s all about HOPE.. never lose track of hope…
I remember being a little lass
all those many years ago
decorating the Christmas tree
and hanging up the mistletoe
The sounds of bells takes me back
to a place of childhood pleasure
through the halls of time I go
with memories I will always treasure
The smell of fresh baked gingerbread
would waft all throughout the place
and the roast was in the oven
that would soon disappear without a trace
Everywhere was Christmas
with joy spread all around
decorations and festive lights
would adorn the whole downtown
Carolers would sing their songs
right outside our garden gate
and I would stay up listening
until it became very late
We would wrap up all our presents
to give to our parents and our grans
we spent all year making them
with our very own pair of hands
Christmas eve was always special
I would lie awake all night
and listen for the sleigh bells
and reindeer to appear in sight
no matter how I tried to stay awake
it happened every single year
I would soon be sleeping very tight
and that sleigh I would never hear
On Christmas morning I would awaken
and there down at the end of my bed
would be a sack full of gifts
that made up for missing Santa’s sled
But then as I grew up older
and my life was touched by pain
I stopped believing in the magic
and Christmas became a strain
It became all about the money
commercialized a special thing
the gift that keeps on giving
was the sound of a cash register’s ring
and then one day it happened
I looked upon my children’s face
and saw the magic mirrored there
that was sprinkled around the place
it was then my heart re opened
and Santa Claus came back into my life
I was just as excited as the kiddies
the joy within my soul was rife
I’d forgotten all the magic
of giving laughs and smiles
and of sitting up on Santa’s knee
full of innocence and guile
I’d forgotten the gift of giving
that was what it was all about
and seeing happiness in others
is the best thing, never doubt
Do you believe in Santa Claus
who comes around once a year
to spread the smiles and laughter
and wipe away those tears
Do you believe in Christmas
the wonders and the joy
the gold and silver tinsel
and parents acting very coy
The magic that is Christmas
is very real you see
the love and warmth and happiness
is what Christmas means to me
So look upon the children
at their innocence and fears
and build them up with happiness
thats stretches on throughout the years.
This is the first time I am publishing this piece publicly.
It was written in 2009/2010 and placed on private journal entry.
At the time I could not share my pain. I couldn’t share anything. i could only wrap myself within myself and scream inside.
Today in some ways i am still screaming inside
I have learned one thing. one very important thing
to endure
it is a deep despair inside, a restlessness borne of not knowing but a the same time having to bear the contemplative thoughts of what will be and even worse what can be.
It is the realization that nothing, not even your children are truly yours, they belong to the state to banter and pass around like marketable goods.
These are my children, I chose to be a mum, I chose all that came with being a mum. I am not perfect and perhaps in the God’s eyes I have failed, or found to be lacking but to be judged by a stranger?
to have society and some one far away from the realities of our family, sitting in such high judgment of us who holds the ability in his hands to take all from under us, to take from us all we have , all we have built, and all we have planned and all we are is I guess to feel the ultimate loss. The loss of life, the loss of freedom, the loss of hat should be
The pain is unbearable, every minute I stop and heave a deep sigh, as if something is trapped and held within my very soul, bursting to tear it’s way out to cause the ultimate pain a mother can bear. The loss of a child or the threat of the loss of a child.
I just tucked Kahleah into bed …I do feel my heart breaking with every breath. I watch their angelic faces as they begin to bloom again, only to face that it all might be ripped from us again. The tranquility and healing shattered, our family fragmented and forgotten.
My babies. The pain is too much too keep writing, my tears beg annoyingly to be wiped away as they run in a constant stream down my cheeks unheeded. My vision is blurred. my heart is so heavy. I can’t stop the waves of pain that rip through my soul.
it is the worse, it is rock bottom, it is the devastation that only a parent could dread. The memories flash like replay in full Technicolor windscreen through my mind of our life together, of our dreams, our hopes, and of our fear, of our nightmare.
Yet that nightmare, it was nothing, it had nothing on this nightmare. This is the ultimate pain, the ultimate sequel to end the saga. The final control, the final cut. and yes, it is the deepest, far deeper than I have evr endured from him before. Far worse than too much, it hurts so bad.
and yet to know he is winning, that by my very pain right now as I sit here is another point in his seemingly endless campaign of annihilation, means nothing. It doesn’t even register. It doesn’t count.
what registers is my babies, of my bond with them
of Brodie as he says, “I hope you bought a hug with you mum” or “I know what you bought me home from the shop mummy, you bought me a kiss”.
Of listening to Shaylah s operatic tones pierce my head in perfect pitch as she merrily dances around the house and her smiles at
me the love the bond between us as mother and daughter. Of Kahleah, my little sunshine, Her earnest blue eyes looking deeply into mine as she tells me one of her stories.
We are just now only beginning to find each other again. We are just beginning to mend and learning to walk all over again and now it is threatened with a destruction that i am powerless to stop.
and it hurts ………. bad….
I’m sorry i just need an outlet for this pain and I can’t publish this publicly….. I hurt
Alone in the dark, alone with your thoughts
overcome with deep feelings of dread
all of your hopes and all of your fears
are randomly flowing around in your head
searching for courage, the spark that’s inside
to stand up and face what the fates bring
suppressing inside you the need to be free
as slowly the voice stops to sing
when you finally stand up and step on to the future
from the tears that are all done and all cried
facing the fears of all that is unknown
that takes courage born of blood and of pride
the torches of knowledge that light up the way
will help guide you to take one step more
that light may grow dim and flicker about
but the spirit comes from deep in the core
The book of today has all ready been written
the pages are numbered from years of your life
it’s signed in blood and then sealed with your laws
ready to cut through your soul like a knife
Look deep in the mirror at you staring back
you see time etched and marked on your face
innocence gone from those eyes which now turn away
a knowing deep faraway look in its place
A red dawn breaks out from under the darkness
as nature waits for the new day to begin
Consciousness wakens and stirs from it’s sleep
the world has turned on it’s axis again
Another day older theres no going back
no changing the past with a pen
the lesson is learned reaction to action
is it too late for the deep wounds to mend
======
do you ever get to a low point in your life when you keep telling yourself it will be ok and that
“there is someone out there worse off than you”
Do you ever get to an extreme low point in your life when you realize there isn’t anyone worse off than you?
That is pretty bad..
it’s kinda “take me out and shoot me” time when you start thinking that shit
Have you ever noticed that people don’t take the time to really look at what you are going through and instead sprout off meaningless little “incantations” to TRY and make you feel better
“things can only get better”
yeah that one is supposed to make me feel better
only it makes me feel worse, much worse..
I can handle hell.. Ive handled hell before and will again in this life
I can’t handle do gooders and well meaning people without a fucking clue.watch what you say to someone who has lost everything that they care aboutI don’t need to hear someone sprout shit
I now know a lot of things I didn’t know before.. and you know.. I wish I didn’t know them… but I do.. so it’s changed me.. changed the way I look at things.. and it HAS changed the very core of me
care factor zero..
when do you reach that point?
you reach that point when it has all been torn and taken from you and you are left with the empty shell that remains
Care factor zero.. when do you reach the point when you have nothing to lose?
When you have already lost it all
care factor zero
They say a shattered heart can mend ..
Can it really?
Forgive me for being cynical.. but guess what..
it CAN get worse…..
and really it won’t get better tomorrow..
Reality sucks.. but it is real
My life as a clown
You ever hear the one about the clown that wasn’t happy?
I’ve heard it myself ………They say that Clowns are sad fucks.
Well I’m here today to tell you it’s true. We are.
Oh don’t worry I AM A clown, just ask anyone that knows me in real life. My kids call me a clown daily. I am always pulling faces and doing tricks for them and pulling pranks on them to make them laugh. When I go out with my friends I keep them in hysterics all night with my antics. The drunker THEY get, the funnier I get. Forgot to add, I don’t drink, my Bravado is not found by using beer goggles….
Even though in many ways I am an incredibly shy, self reflective quiet person, put me in company that needs a giggle to brighten up their lives and I will have them wetting my pants…. and if there is another clown in the room with me….. well we just bounce… creativity sparks to life……
Well the amazing thing I have discovered is that when I am at my lowest and saddest, a survival mechanism kicks in, I create LOL’s and smiles and all things fun and then I use that to draw energy into me and use it, to survive another day, to stand up and breathe and to take a step further into the dark cave I am journeying.
As fast as my cup gets emptied by life’s pain, I do my utmost to keep energy flowing back in. Some times that cup is long dry and then a spark, an acknowledgment, a laugh from someone comes to me and that tiny drop revives life and restores me to a condition that I can keep going on… it gives me the air to breathe.
It is almost like a spirit orgasm.. I get off on making people smile and seeing them laugh and be happy… it warms the cockles of my widdle heart that lately has been growing colder by the day… nothing will make me smile. I have nothing to smile about other than to see others smile… thats not a pity me request either… it is a truthful statement of “clownship” the secret code of a true clown…..
I find at this moment for as deep a my pain cuts, as low I have sunk in the quagmire we call life, my creative energy and positive output actually equals the depths. My rises are just as high as the low points are low. The work I create at these times stuns me when I look back at it later.. Did I do that? Did I create that? and that gives me more energy to work with..
and its those positives in my life that then make me realize how well off I truly am .. I CAN create.. it is a gift I treasure.. because that very act of creation balances up all the destruction.
I have a new admiration for clowns today.. a deeper appreciation of who they really are inside…. they still scare me though….. but then I have a deeper understanding of that fear too.. it is once again a genuine admiration of all things clown and a healthy respect for the darker mind of a clown………don’t ever fuck with a clown… and don’t ever fuck with his LOL’s ……….please see ALL of the above for explanation…
Some of the newer readers may not remember the work I did with “Santa” in 2007,2008,2009 on myspace.
Santa Claus is the ultimate clown you just never saw it until then. His wears a clown suit complete with bells, he has the ruddy red face and the wig with silly hat.. and well just substitute the new age white paint for the old fashioned white beard and …
the original clown
Ho Ho Ho…..and just as the clowns of today like to make children smile and laugh…well damn isn’t that Santa’s job description and he is really the king of the Clowns because while every other clown in the world has their circus, Santa get to show his “clownship” to all the children in the world… and lets face it Santa haz candy.. Clown haz candy…
The original Clown that every other clown in the world has molded and shaped their work on.
I created South Pole Santa in one of my darkest hours and used him and all he brought to people to get through a pretty bad time in my life.
She was born on Monday morning
with the sun high in the sky
she grew in love and happiness
and you never heard her cry
She met the future on a Tuesday
at the party of a family friend
it was a golden magic time
she never wanted to ever end
they got engaged on a Wednesday
and her parents were so proud
a successful handsome husband
who really stood out from the crowd
He yelled at her on a Thursday
a week before the wedding day
with kisses and much forgiveness
he begged her to let him stay
They married on a Friday
just before the long weekend
she wore a dress made of white
for it was the fashion trend
he first hit her on a Saturday
they were still on their honeymoon
her parents were really wondering
why they returned from it so soon
He killed her on the Sunday
they had been married for eight whole days
his excuse was that he owned her now
and now in a pool of blood she lays
they buried her on a Monday
20 years to the day since she was born
all that are left of her are memories
and families lives that are ripped and torn
Suicide moth
with the brains of a doth
you are banging away at the screen
It is night time outside
and it’s a full lunar tide
Whether you’ll live remains to be seen
the rain’s pouring down
on your face like a clown
makes you look like an eerie dark green
I peer at your face
right out there in space
and wonder why nature is harsh and so mean
you’re banging away
with wings beating in fray
to the light you seem to be keen
why don’t you give up
There is glass is in the cup
the knowledge of which surely you glean
but seemingly not
you don’t seem to stop
that banging away at the screen
I bid you goodnight
and close blinds out of sight
of that light from which your life is so lean
you would think you would learn
light also can burn
and charcoal can tarnish the sheen
