She saw him there
the man in the boots
she noticed they were shiny
in a healthy way but not in a new boot way
She looked upon them because she could not look upon him
As she sauntered up in a slightly perplexed way
she couldn't help but notice the boots did gleam at her
She fell down before him
flat on the ground on her stomach in a offering sort of way
and buffed his boots with her hair and sweat
She swayed and slithered this way and that
perplexed and wanton but virginal yet
It was then that he took notice of her
laid out flat in a wanton way perplexed and all that
virginal he did know and yet
he couldn't help but noticing that
her hair and sweat
did gleam at him
It shone radiant in fact
it left him perplexed and wanton
not really virginal and yet
He gazed down upon her
in this way
dirt and sweat
did come upon her in such a way
that virginal did not suit her at last
Her head bobbed back and forth
like a berry on a branch
He popped it proper with his shiny boot
as it slithered there and that
that is was
a berry
ripe and pretty
laid out in front of him
like a perplexed heathen cat
with juices ripe and rippling so
he gathered himself and did go
his boots so shiny
they gleamed in the night
beckoning to wanton heathens
virgins and such
but in the end just popped them without thought
ripe ol heads
berrys
nonsense and such
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Rose Runs Red
Rose runs red
a trickle here and there
she pains and strains
with precise decision
Rose runs red
just a trickle
here and there
she seeps and weeps
with demise and contrite
From stain and gain
a trickle here and there
Rose runs red
Sweet rose
that stains the lips
Rose runs red
a trickle, just a trickle
she's fickle
She takes her hand
and runs it back and forth
Picks up and leaps
sweeps the banter
and calls the canter
chuckles at laughter
and wags her tail
Rose runs red
a bit deep
enough, enough has been said
Rose runs and thus is red
Red from exhaustion
Red from shame
Red from trickling
a bit here and there
Rose runs no more
for Rose is empty and
has fallen to the floor
Sweet Rose is laying
in red piles
a shamble ramble bamble
sputtering red about
Red has run from Rose
and covered the floor
Rose runs red no more
a trickle here and there
she pains and strains
with precise decision
Rose runs red
just a trickle
here and there
she seeps and weeps
with demise and contrite
From stain and gain
a trickle here and there
Rose runs red
Sweet rose
that stains the lips
Rose runs red
a trickle, just a trickle
she's fickle
She takes her hand
and runs it back and forth
Picks up and leaps
sweeps the banter
and calls the canter
chuckles at laughter
and wags her tail
Rose runs red
a bit deep
enough, enough has been said
Rose runs and thus is red
Red from exhaustion
Red from shame
Red from trickling
a bit here and there
Rose runs no more
for Rose is empty and
has fallen to the floor
Sweet Rose is laying
in red piles
a shamble ramble bamble
sputtering red about
Red has run from Rose
and covered the floor
Rose runs red no more
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
I scream, yes. I scream.
I woke screaming.
I could not breath for my own blood was being sucked up into my nostrils and the screaming would not stop. My eyes would not fully open and I caught only flashes of glaring white light that only made me want to close my eyes again. It was like being in a ward and being rushed down a hall and the fluorescent flashing images of white directly into your soul. The screams happened in bursts inbetween the bursts of light.
It took great strength to peel herself off the linoleum and prop herself up albeit only briefly. She remembered she couldn't breath and struggled to hold herself up at the sink to wash the bloody filth from her face. The room spun. A slow spin that seemed to whirl her brain into a fog. She forgot after that.
I woke the second time screaming.
This time blood was trickling down into my mass of unruly hair. And again, the blood wanted to puddle in my nose. There was blood on the floors. Blood on the wall. She had reached for the wall and traced the path trying to remember. The pain was everywhere and indescribable, unmistakable and indeterminate. Where was she?
The screaming had subsided and was now a sob. Where was she? Orientate yourself. Remember the glaring lights and focus. Focus on what? She looked around and didn't know where to turn. Her turning only made the room spin. Not a slow spin this time but more like a whirligig that made her want to puke.
Was it I or she? She stopped screaming. She stopped sobbing and called for help. Help. Help.
Help she said to anyone who might hear her. She hurt everywhere and the pain wouldnt stop. He reached her and steadied her by the elbows. Eased her down and spoke softly. I think tears were falling but the pain was so much it took the feeling away for fine senses. Overwhelmed her.
The glaring whites were hurting her but somehow they made it to the bed so she could lie down .
She couldn't speak clearly and seemed not only to be slurred but not making sense. She was
trying not to become agitated. She needed a rag for her head. She was bleeding onto the bed
and he kept thinking she was asking for him. In a way she was but she really needed that rag. She was
bleeding onto the bed. The bed. It wouldnt stop hurting her. Everything hurt and she wanted to rock the pain away but if she moved she felt like daggers were peircing her head.
The pain had started in her stomach and this is what sent her out of the bed in the first place.
The pain that was so intense it made her pass out. Now, there were a team of someone's in her room
taking pictures, taking her blood, taking her pulse. Taking her away to the ER which they no longer
call the ER. The stupid driver went thru the middle of the drive hitting every speed bump. At least five of them and she asked the one sitting with her to turn out the lights because the lights were hurting her. I think he did.
Was it I or she? She sobbed. She was irritated. She was in pain. She was going to the ER for the
first time ever and they dont call it the ER any longer. As she recalls this only trip to the ER
she remembers she did go one other time. It also was painful and bloody but has decided that
is a story best left unsaid. The pain in her body that had begun in her stomach continued for hours.
The someones who took her along the halls under the garish white flourescents were effecient
and gentle enough. They took her to the radiology room more than once.
The pain was not just in her stomach and her head, it was in her neck. She chipped a bone during the fall. Where did she fall? When shes home she will find the determininate spot and inspect the path.
Try to remember. It would take weeks, maybe months before it all came back if at all. More than just her helpers that night would ask questions and she didn't have answers. At least not ones that sufficed.
Still, today she hurts. I hurt. Bobby pins hurt. Ponytails hurt. Turning hurts but not as bad as it used to. She takes the pain and absorbs it into her soul. It is her duty. She smiles as she dances and he holds her. Steadies her so they can dance without her falling. The spinning has mostly stopped. At one time it was so bad that she would grip the bed and blurt out exclamations.
Not quite daily she inspects her deepest wound. She has a dent in her head. But oddly enough, the pain doesn't stop there. The doctor says it may never go away. She doesnt care anymore. It is just her
duty to carry it with her.
The dreams, the odd dreams have subsided along with the sobs. Have you ever seen people leap into the air? Straight into the air? Then bounce off concrete and land and walk away? In my dreams, I saw this vividly. I think its my determined spirit that is telling itself
"You cant stop me".
So, when the doctor told me ... "You have a little murmur". I decided to just carry it with me. Its
my duty.
I could not breath for my own blood was being sucked up into my nostrils and the screaming would not stop. My eyes would not fully open and I caught only flashes of glaring white light that only made me want to close my eyes again. It was like being in a ward and being rushed down a hall and the fluorescent flashing images of white directly into your soul. The screams happened in bursts inbetween the bursts of light.
It took great strength to peel herself off the linoleum and prop herself up albeit only briefly. She remembered she couldn't breath and struggled to hold herself up at the sink to wash the bloody filth from her face. The room spun. A slow spin that seemed to whirl her brain into a fog. She forgot after that.
I woke the second time screaming.
This time blood was trickling down into my mass of unruly hair. And again, the blood wanted to puddle in my nose. There was blood on the floors. Blood on the wall. She had reached for the wall and traced the path trying to remember. The pain was everywhere and indescribable, unmistakable and indeterminate. Where was she?
The screaming had subsided and was now a sob. Where was she? Orientate yourself. Remember the glaring lights and focus. Focus on what? She looked around and didn't know where to turn. Her turning only made the room spin. Not a slow spin this time but more like a whirligig that made her want to puke.
Was it I or she? She stopped screaming. She stopped sobbing and called for help. Help. Help.
Help she said to anyone who might hear her. She hurt everywhere and the pain wouldnt stop. He reached her and steadied her by the elbows. Eased her down and spoke softly. I think tears were falling but the pain was so much it took the feeling away for fine senses. Overwhelmed her.
The glaring whites were hurting her but somehow they made it to the bed so she could lie down .
She couldn't speak clearly and seemed not only to be slurred but not making sense. She was
trying not to become agitated. She needed a rag for her head. She was bleeding onto the bed
and he kept thinking she was asking for him. In a way she was but she really needed that rag. She was
bleeding onto the bed. The bed. It wouldnt stop hurting her. Everything hurt and she wanted to rock the pain away but if she moved she felt like daggers were peircing her head.
The pain had started in her stomach and this is what sent her out of the bed in the first place.
The pain that was so intense it made her pass out. Now, there were a team of someone's in her room
taking pictures, taking her blood, taking her pulse. Taking her away to the ER which they no longer
call the ER. The stupid driver went thru the middle of the drive hitting every speed bump. At least five of them and she asked the one sitting with her to turn out the lights because the lights were hurting her. I think he did.
Was it I or she? She sobbed. She was irritated. She was in pain. She was going to the ER for the
first time ever and they dont call it the ER any longer. As she recalls this only trip to the ER
she remembers she did go one other time. It also was painful and bloody but has decided that
is a story best left unsaid. The pain in her body that had begun in her stomach continued for hours.
The someones who took her along the halls under the garish white flourescents were effecient
and gentle enough. They took her to the radiology room more than once.
The pain was not just in her stomach and her head, it was in her neck. She chipped a bone during the fall. Where did she fall? When shes home she will find the determininate spot and inspect the path.
Try to remember. It would take weeks, maybe months before it all came back if at all. More than just her helpers that night would ask questions and she didn't have answers. At least not ones that sufficed.
Still, today she hurts. I hurt. Bobby pins hurt. Ponytails hurt. Turning hurts but not as bad as it used to. She takes the pain and absorbs it into her soul. It is her duty. She smiles as she dances and he holds her. Steadies her so they can dance without her falling. The spinning has mostly stopped. At one time it was so bad that she would grip the bed and blurt out exclamations.
Not quite daily she inspects her deepest wound. She has a dent in her head. But oddly enough, the pain doesn't stop there. The doctor says it may never go away. She doesnt care anymore. It is just her
duty to carry it with her.
The dreams, the odd dreams have subsided along with the sobs. Have you ever seen people leap into the air? Straight into the air? Then bounce off concrete and land and walk away? In my dreams, I saw this vividly. I think its my determined spirit that is telling itself
"You cant stop me".
So, when the doctor told me ... "You have a little murmur". I decided to just carry it with me. Its
my duty.
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
What Defines Us
Mothers Day is coming and I get thoughtful, even a bit sentimental around this time. I think about the early years when I couldn't get thru a holiday without crying. When I would lose loved ones I would cry for the ones I had lost before and the ones I had just lost. I cried for the ones I didn't have, that didn't want me. I spent a lot of time crying. In order to stop crying, I created. Creation saved me.
They say the things that don't kill us saves us...or is it shapes us? I'm not exactly sure. I know I longed for what I will refer to as "my people". I spent a lot of time lost. Feeling like there was no one like me and the ones that I would meet that seemed like me, well we didn't connect somehow. Creation also crushed me.
Crushed me into myself, formed me and saved me. Do you understand?
The very things I dove into that saved me, also saved me from people that didn't connect with me. Back to Mothers day...its been 28 years since my mother died so I often think she didn't have much to do with shaping me. She did not define me so much in her own life as much as she did after she died, or did she? She died a single mother and often I fear her heart did not find its true love. If she did, what happened to it? Where did he, the one true love vanish to?
She made mistake after mistake in choosing the men she let into her life. They were not bad men, they just weren't for her. I have done the same. Except this time, I think I finally got it right. I found someone that doesn't wish to change me, control me or ridicule me. I believe he loves who I am and sees who I am without me begging him too recognize me.
This was a mistake I made in the past. I, with my actions and words seemed to be begging for someone to see me, recognize who and what I am and simply love me. What a silly mistake.
You can not force someone to love you, you can not convince them you or they are worthy and you can not sacrifice your own dignity in the name of love. That is not love and I nearly did that.
Maybe I did, maybe I just made myself vulnerable and cared about someone that didn't care back.
So, what defines us? Everything. I am defined by encounters, music, art, words, acts of kindness and even acts of unspeakable evil. Well, not really but that sounded terribly dramatic as the words rolled around in my head. I have been defined by events in my life that were not pleasant. Not as dramatic but definitely more accurate.
When I was younger than the legal drinking age, I married someone I thought would love me and I would love him forever. Within the first year of our marriage he impregnated his girlfriend and put me thru hell for over a year before divorce was final. We had actually been trying to get pregnant and I am thankful my body didn't cooperate at that time. Many years have passed and after having two children and one miscarriage I can tell you that both of my children are what I like to call miracle babies. I'm one of those ladies that doctors gave less than a five percent chance of carrying a baby to full term. I thumbed my nose at those doctors and did it twice.
So in my life, creation and death shaped me. The creation of two lives made mine whole. The ending of ones life over and over again during my lifetime also shaped me. The creation of a beautiful life together with my fiancé will shape me. What defines you and what shape will your life be in when you reach the end of it?
They say the things that don't kill us saves us...or is it shapes us? I'm not exactly sure. I know I longed for what I will refer to as "my people". I spent a lot of time lost. Feeling like there was no one like me and the ones that I would meet that seemed like me, well we didn't connect somehow. Creation also crushed me.
Crushed me into myself, formed me and saved me. Do you understand?
The very things I dove into that saved me, also saved me from people that didn't connect with me. Back to Mothers day...its been 28 years since my mother died so I often think she didn't have much to do with shaping me. She did not define me so much in her own life as much as she did after she died, or did she? She died a single mother and often I fear her heart did not find its true love. If she did, what happened to it? Where did he, the one true love vanish to?
She made mistake after mistake in choosing the men she let into her life. They were not bad men, they just weren't for her. I have done the same. Except this time, I think I finally got it right. I found someone that doesn't wish to change me, control me or ridicule me. I believe he loves who I am and sees who I am without me begging him too recognize me.
This was a mistake I made in the past. I, with my actions and words seemed to be begging for someone to see me, recognize who and what I am and simply love me. What a silly mistake.
You can not force someone to love you, you can not convince them you or they are worthy and you can not sacrifice your own dignity in the name of love. That is not love and I nearly did that.
Maybe I did, maybe I just made myself vulnerable and cared about someone that didn't care back.
So, what defines us? Everything. I am defined by encounters, music, art, words, acts of kindness and even acts of unspeakable evil. Well, not really but that sounded terribly dramatic as the words rolled around in my head. I have been defined by events in my life that were not pleasant. Not as dramatic but definitely more accurate.
When I was younger than the legal drinking age, I married someone I thought would love me and I would love him forever. Within the first year of our marriage he impregnated his girlfriend and put me thru hell for over a year before divorce was final. We had actually been trying to get pregnant and I am thankful my body didn't cooperate at that time. Many years have passed and after having two children and one miscarriage I can tell you that both of my children are what I like to call miracle babies. I'm one of those ladies that doctors gave less than a five percent chance of carrying a baby to full term. I thumbed my nose at those doctors and did it twice.
So in my life, creation and death shaped me. The creation of two lives made mine whole. The ending of ones life over and over again during my lifetime also shaped me. The creation of a beautiful life together with my fiancé will shape me. What defines you and what shape will your life be in when you reach the end of it?
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Fun and Nonsense
I can play solitaire while on breaks and paint and save it to my gallery, check in on Facebook and my email. Plus, I really love Windows 8! Enjoy the movie my son and I made :)
Peace,
Tera
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Deaths Bells
A little comment before this next peice: after reading this to someone they said "you don't write about deaths bells! you write about puppy dogs, rainbows and fluffy clouds" To which I say " I did write about deaths bells and I liked it ;)
****************************************************************************
Shall I say you are dead to me
for I shan't fall at your feet once more
The bells!
The bells!
They do ring for me
Death, you are dead
banging on my door
Heavy carved wood that hurts to pound
but there you are
you are dead
to me
for I shan't fall at your feet anymore
Stand up and answer
Deaths bells!
Ringing loud for me
they call me out
with chants and shouts
Deep and resonating
the knightwatchman stands still
waxes and wanes serene
He comes for me
sweet release
final answer
to deaths bells
to grab my soul
Finally
in lock down
Drag me unwillingly
or let me fall down
deaths deep ringing bells
pull me down
Breath the earth
clutch dust and dirt
embrace enveloping darkness
as shadows and shifts
they leave my face
Pull hair in agony
feel and see my pain
Deaths bells
do wax and wane
written 8/26/12
****************************************************************************
Shall I say you are dead to me
for I shan't fall at your feet once more
The bells!
The bells!
They do ring for me
Death, you are dead
banging on my door
Heavy carved wood that hurts to pound
but there you are
you are dead
to me
for I shan't fall at your feet anymore
Stand up and answer
Deaths bells!
Ringing loud for me
they call me out
with chants and shouts
Deep and resonating
the knightwatchman stands still
waxes and wanes serene
He comes for me
sweet release
final answer
to deaths bells
to grab my soul
Finally
in lock down
Drag me unwillingly
or let me fall down
deaths deep ringing bells
pull me down
Breath the earth
clutch dust and dirt
embrace enveloping darkness
as shadows and shifts
they leave my face
Pull hair in agony
feel and see my pain
Deaths bells
do wax and wane
written 8/26/12
Whose Child Is This
Whose child is this
the one standing here
he's not mine
I'm certain
it's clear
whose child is this
the one with breath
the one standing here
all be it his best
He's not mine
I'm certainly clear
stand up
sit down
clown round
over here
he's not mine
I'm certain
vaguely clear
who's this kid
standing here
He's ragged
He's muffled
he's ruffled at best
He's not mine
I'm sure
to jest
who is it
He's not mine
the one right here
He's still in me
I'm bulging
its clear
He can't be mine
I'm not ready yet
theatrical
comedical
screaming
That's where I'm at
who is he
are you sure
he's not mine
I beg to differ
summer was over
and still I shout
whose child is this
with little clout
Shame!
Shame to thee
Shout explanations
sing to me
It's over
it's summer yet
whose child is this
clamored and yet
He can't be mine
of this I'm sure
I beg to differ
for he's in me yet
written 8/20/2012
the one standing here
he's not mine
I'm certain
it's clear
whose child is this
the one with breath
the one standing here
all be it his best
He's not mine
I'm certainly clear
stand up
sit down
clown round
over here
he's not mine
I'm certain
vaguely clear
who's this kid
standing here
He's ragged
He's muffled
he's ruffled at best
He's not mine
I'm sure
to jest
who is it
He's not mine
the one right here
He's still in me
I'm bulging
its clear
He can't be mine
I'm not ready yet
theatrical
comedical
screaming
That's where I'm at
who is he
are you sure
he's not mine
I beg to differ
summer was over
and still I shout
whose child is this
with little clout
Shame!
Shame to thee
Shout explanations
sing to me
It's over
it's summer yet
whose child is this
clamored and yet
He can't be mine
of this I'm sure
I beg to differ
for he's in me yet
written 8/20/2012
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