The ship is sinking
and the women and children
are still on board,
but the lifeboats have been taken
and the ******* Captain,
he ain't letting any more board.

One day soon
in this unknown country
where our dreams shout
and jump ship,
a train will come
and it will arrive full-steam
ahead, and full of resisters
looking to take the Captain's head.

I burnt down the metal cage
that confined me

I have broken up with God
and I am blossoming

without his hand pushing
my head down

I eat blackberries straight from
the bush

tasting the dirt where they grew
the tightest bud bursting

into fruit that nurtures me
that sustains me

I am Godless and cageless
I am a woman of

flames, starting fires
wherever I go

burning, burning, turning
into ash

into the very dirt I courted
with my purple stained

lips

Do not wait for me.
As troubling as it may seem
I babble on
breaking brooks
in my stone laden
dreams.

Do not stop
or slow a step behind.
Please proceed.
I hope you find
the peace of mind
that eludes me.

Do not carry me
when I fall.
For I am far to broken
and each shard
of my being
is a dangerous thing
made of
silver and sterling
nighttime daydreams.

Do not worry,
I was in no hurry.
While you rushed into
the death you thought you knew
I stayed behind
to enjoy this time of mine.

Do not look back.
Fear finds its own facts
and sadly I lack
that spark which knows eternity.
Unfortunately, there is only me
here in the moment
on my mud rock
that pirouettes space.

Do not stop.
Go on and rush to death
because heaven or hell
awaits your final breath.
I don’t mind
keeping my heaven and hell here.
Whilst you wither and disappear
I’ll enjoy the crystal clear
running water,
the clean skies,
the beautiful animals
that you cannot take with you
when you die.

Do not worry one bit.
I got this.
Just go on my dear
I’ll rest right here
because this is such
a sweet and wonderful
but one time only life.

Sometimes,

It's not the World

That helps me write.

It's the

Loneliness and

The World of darkness.

Because, I have to raise from

Where I fall

And achieve

What I lost.

My words give me

Light to at least fight

The darkness which

I cannot completely

Expell from my thoughts and

Life.

If there is no darkness how I

Know the value of light.

I also praise my darkness

You left a scab which
Took too long to form,
And my healing heart
Was all dead and worn.
You have no right
To come back and do this,
Checking me off
Like an item on your To-Do list,
What happened to me
Was awful and cruel,
And now "never trust"
Is my number one rule.
So you have no right
To come back and say,
"Oops, I'm sorry
I treated you that way",
For shallow words do
Nothing when spoken,
To a newly healed heart,
Not ready to be broken.

"Oh Ella, what have you done?"
Must I explain again?
I've fallen in love with fear,
It's made me stronger and
Fuled my brand of fire. Is that wrong?
"Oh Ella, what have you done?"
I'll say it once,
I've learned to slap sour, poetic, spitting lips
Away from my face
With no hesitation, is that wrong?
"Oh Ella, what have you done?"
I can't keep repeating.
I walked through hell with a smile.
Skipping around flames, letting dust
Tangle in my hair. Is that wrong?
"Oh Ella, what have you done?"
Do not judge my strength.
I've raised myself on the edge
Of the lion's backbone,
Now foverever changed, safe, why is that wrong?


"Oh Ella, what have you done?"
Nothing.

I no longer answer to you.

The funeral for this decorated soldier was a somber one.

A mother, dressed in all black, sat there with painful tears streaming down her reddened cheek and a father sat beside her in disbelief, his left arm laid across her shoulders, as he tried to comfort her.

A lost comrade taken by an enemy's bullet.

A lost brother taken by an enemy's bullet.

Our lost son taken by an enemy's bullet.

My heart had stopped briefly from each of the twenty one shots that rang out in the distance. Each shot danced echoes off my eardrums and the painful ache in my heart never seamed to stop.

His fellow comrades stood watch over his flag draped casket. Honoring him will a sharp, military salute just as Taps sounded from the bugler's horn.

The ripples of each note that was played sparked memories in my head of yesterday years and days gone.

The date was October 28, 1989. Our bundle of joy was born. It was 2:30 in the afternoon and the sun began to shine.

We became parents.

Time would never stop though.  Growing faster than the weeds in our own front yard. We learned to cherish each passing second and moment.

Through the terrible twos to the teenage years and finally out of the house... wow what happened?

We became older parents.

Then it changed. A proud moment. But a changing moment none the less.

Our son raised his right hand and he swore to defend the country against all enemies, foreign and domestic.  

His unit got deployed to a foreign country, shortly there after and we were still extremely proud.

On one chilly October, Saturday afternoon, two weeks before his 25th birthday, our lives would be  changed by one knock on our door. The dull sound of the rapping on our door is forever engraved into my head.

We knew what it meant and we both fell to our knees and wept.

The military chaplain spoke to us in a most peaceful tone, the following words, "On behalf of a grateful nation, I am sorry to inform you that your son was killed in action by an enemy's bullet"

The air became still and calm laid over us all.

At that  moment his casket was lowered into the ground and a folded flag was placed in our trembling hands.

Through the grayish clouds, one steady beam of sunlight came to rest on top of that folded flag and the time read 2:30 in the afternoon.

I never hear them when they speak
only hours later
in the painfully lit basement of my home
with earphones and patience
do their words reach me
such was the case last October
I was driving through Wilderness, Virginia
for the first time and happened to pass
Saunders Field and caught sight of the plaque
that stood at the bottom of the hill
and a trail that led into the woods
where the fierce skirmishes took place
it was a bit chilly and windy
and the road nearby was busy with passing cars
not an ideal place for an EVP session
but I felt compelled to try
and walked the edge of the woods
then a short portion of the trail
I asked many questions directly to anyone
who may be listening
'How many souls perished here?'
'Are you one of those souls?'
'Did you suffer?'
'Why do you stay or visit this place?'
as usual, I heard no voices during the 18 minutes
of questioning
however, the presence was undeniable
I was not alone here
this I knew
on the way back down the hill to leave
I reached out one final time;
'I have about 20 seconds left, so if you'd like
to say something, please say it now'
again I heard nothing, turned the recorder off
and departed

it was several days before I could return home
and review my recording
but my curiosity as always
grew stronger the longer I had to wait
I was disappointed as I began to listen
nothing heard as each minute passed
only the whisper of wind and cars
until I came to my final question in those last moments...
'I have about 20 seconds left, so if you'd like
to say something, please say it now.'

'Leave me under the ground........human'

God knows love is enough to move mountains
He has had a lot of practise,
your part is to have a little faith in love.