I am a miserable ****.

Traffic jam thoughts.
Aimless speech.
Fever dreams,
coffee with no cream,
love with no pulse,
alone at restaurants,
            at grocery stores,
            at parties.

I have no identity.

Shifting shape, black to blue,
trading girls, red hair for Persian skin,
parents and gods,
politicians and lost purpose mobs,
all asking me to be sacred,
                            to be loving,
                            to be trusting,
                            to be active,
                            to have no spine.

All I want is a bit of my own time.

A grenade of change,
to end the coagulation of my brain,
to leave me hungry for anything
other than me,
didn't somebody say I was promised something?
                                            I was going somewhere?
                                            I was unique?

I am the same miserable ****,

As every other miserable ****.

The ******* that cut you off on Highway 62,

The person that complained about too many pickles,
on his precious fast food,

The boy yelling at his baby sister for getting too much attention,

The girl sexting your boyfriend,

The boy sexing your girlfriend,

The generation divorcing everyone it knows so it can fall in love with

itself.

All different,
in exactly the same way.

Traffic jam thoughts. Traffic jam thoughts.
                   Traffic jam thoughts. Traffic jam thoughts.
            trafficjamthoughts. traffic. Traffic Jam Thoughts. Thoughts.
Traffic. Traffic. Traffic. Traffic. Traffic. Traffic. Jam.
thoughts. traffic. trafficjam. trafficjam. traffic jam thoughts.traffic.
traffic jam. traffic, traffic, traffic. I am a miserable ****. Traffic jam.

The tired, old cliché –life is short—is probably more accurate than I would care to admit. With wry amusement, I have to admit that overused saying can be quite a joke to me, for I’ve heard it said way too many times, quite at the level of nauseam. Often times, I think the opposite, that life can be pretty **** long when you are not satisfied with it.

I am now at the age which I once thought was getting old, just having another unwanted birthday recently, turning forty-seven last month. As a girl, I thought anyone who had reached the age of forty was practically decrepit. Well, perhaps not, but it might as well have been that way. Forty wasn’t flirty. Forty wasn’t fun. It was far from a desirable age to be, but at least it seemed a million years off.

Surely now, life is far from over for me. Yet I must admit that I am feeling that my youth is slowly slipping away, like sand between my hands that is impossible to hold onto forever. Fifty is over the horizon for me, and I can sense its approach with a bit of unease and trepidation.

It is amazing. Many people still tell me that I am young, but even in my thirties I sensed that middle age was creeping up on me. And now I really am wondering when my middle age status will officially come to an end and old age will replace it—just exactly what number that is anyway. If I doubled up my age now, it would be ninety-four, so my age bracket cannot be as “middle” as it once was.

When we are children, we often cannot wait until we are old enough, old enough to drive when we turn sixteen, old enough to vote when we turn eighteen, as well as old enough to graduate from all those years of school drudgery, and old enough to drink when we turn twenty-one. I can certainly add the lesser milestones—when we are old enough to no longer require a babysitter, when we are old enough to date, when girls are old enough to wear make-up, or dye their hair. Those benefits of adulthood seem to validate our importance in life, nothing we can experience firsthand as a rightful privilege before then.

Many kids can’t wait to be doing all the grown-up things, as if time cannot go fast enough for them, as if that precious stage of life should simply race by like a comet, and life would somehow continue on as before, seemingly as invincible as it ever did in youth. Yet, for many people, after finally surpassing those important ages and stages, they often look back and are amazed at how the years seemed to have just flown by, rushed on in like a “thief in the night” and overtook their lives. And they then begin to realize that they are mortal and life is not invincible, after all.

I am one of them.

When I was a girl, I did not have an urgent sense of the clock, certainly not the need to hurry up to morph into an adult, quite content to remain in my snug, little cocoon of imaginary prepubescent bliss. It seemed like getting to the next phase in life would take forever, or so I wanted it to be that way. In my dread of wondering what I would do once I was grown. I really was in no hurry to face the future head on.  I pretty much feared those new expectations and leaving the security of a sheltered, childhood, a haven of a well-known comfort zone, for sure, even though a generally unhappy one.

Change was much too scary for me, even if it could have been change for the good.

At the age I am now, I surely enjoy the respects that come with the rites of passage into adulthood, a status that I, nor anybody, could truly have as a child. I can assert myself without looking like an impudent, snot-nosed kid—a pint sized know-it-all—one who couldn’t impress anybody with sophistication no matter how much I tried. Now, I can grow into an intelligent woman, ever growing with the passing of age, perhaps a late bloomer with my assertiveness and confidence. Hopefully, more and more each day, I am surrendering the fight in the battle of self-negativity, slowly obtaining a sense of satisfaction in my own skin.

I have often been mistaken as much younger than my actual age. The baby face that I once had seems to be loosing its softness, a very youthful softness that I once disliked but now wish to reclaim. I certainly have mixed feelings about being older, glad to be done with the fearful awkwardness of growing up, now that I look back to see it for what it was, but sometimes missing that girl that once existed, one who wanted to enjoy being more of what she truly had.

All in all, I’d much rather be where I am right this very moment, for it is all that I truly can stake as my claim. Yet I think of the middle age that I am in right now as a precarious age.

As the years go by, our society seems ever more youth obsessed, far more than I was a child. Plastic surgeries are so common place, and Botox is the new fountain of youth. Anti-aging creams, retinol, age defying make-up—many women, including myself, want to indulge in their promises for wrinkle-free skin. Whether it is home remedies or laboratory designed methods, whatever way we can find to make our appearance more pleasing, and certainly younger, is a tantalizing hope for those of us who are middle aged females.

Is fifty really the new thirty? I’d love to think so, but I just cannot get myself to believe that.

Just ask my aches and pains if you want to know my true opinion.

Middle age women are now supposed to be attractive to younger men, as if it is our day for a walk in the sun. Men have been in the older position—often much older position—since surely time began. But we ladies get the label of “cougar”, an somewhat unflattering name that speaks of stalking and pouncing, of being able to rip someone apart with claws like razors, conquer them and then devour them. There is Cougar Town on television that seems to celebrate this phenomenon as something fun and carefree, but I still think that it is generally looked at as something peculiar and wrong.

Hugh Hefner can have women young enough to be his granddaughters, and it might be offensive to many, but he can still get pats on the back and thumbs up for his lifestyle. Way to go, Hef! Yet when it comes to Demi Moore married to Ashton Kutcher, a man fifteen years younger than her, it is a different story. Many aren’t surprised that they are divorcing. Talking heads on television have pointed out, with the big age difference between them, that their relationship was doomed from the start. Other talking heads have pointed out the double standard and the unfairness placed on such judgment, realizing that it probably would not be this way if the man was fifteen years older.

Yes, right now I have middle age as my experience, and that is exactly where I feel in life—positioned in the middle between two major life stages. And they are two stages that I don’t think commands any respect—childhood and old age.      

I’ve been to my share of nursing homes. I helped to care for my father, as he lived and died in one. I had to endure my mother’s five month stay in a nursing home while she recovered from major surgery. I have volunteered my time in hospice, making my travels in some nursing home visitations. So I have seen, firsthand, the hardship of what it means to be elderly, of what it means to feel like a burden, of what it means to lose one’s abilities that one has always taken for granted.  I’ve often witnessed the despair and the languishing away from growing feeble in body and mind.
There is no easy cure for old age. No amount of Botox can alleviate the problems. No change seems available in sight for the ones who have lost their way, or have few people that can care for them, or are willing to care for them.  

I think time should just slow down again for me—as it seemed to be in my girlhood.

I am in no hurry to leave middle age.

Twenty two years had passed  by

She blinked, and a lifetime had passed

She started this job as a lark

She never thought it would last

Two husbands and rehab were part of this bar

The husbands...her clients all knew

But the rehab, was hers...and hers all alone

Only one in her family knew

She'd been tending bar here for 3 presidents plus

Two popes, two husbands....one queen

There were things in this bar that were secreted away

There were things just not meant to be seen

Say, 4 fights a week for 22 years

That's four thousand six hundred fights

That's more violent acts than one person should see

That's  a lot of just mind numbing sights

As a tender of bar, she was part doctor as well

Serving drinks, and giving advice

She was hit on as well, and most she turned down

But some, they succeeded....some twice

They would come with their problems

spill their guts to this girl

Who they'd probably just met that night

They would tell her their problems and drink a few ales

When they  left, they would be feeling all right

But, Mary...poor Mary would harbour their pain

She'd help them, but could not let things go

They'd cheer up with her talking and 1 or 2 beers

But she hurt, and would leave feeling low

There was always a someone on the tales other end

Who was home, maybe beaten or mad

But, Mary....she talked to the one who'd come out

And she always left feeling quite sad

The stories they told her, she never asked them to tell

But they came and they opened on up

And she as their hostess just listened and served

Whle they sat there, getting full in their cups

She married two men that she met in the bar

Both left wives, and poor Mary was blind

They both charmed this girl, till she was way too far gone

And she learned that love..yes, was blind

She had a young niece, that her sister had left

She was going to school here in town

If there was one person alive who could bring Mary up

Her niece Amber was the proverbial clown

After marrying twice and divorcing just once

Mary vowed not to do it again

But, she was hit on each night

in this bar Down the lane,

by a considerable number of men

Her first husband...a lout, for better want of a term

Was a drunkard, and jealous most days

But she fell for him hard, for his sad tale of woe

And her marriage lasted 91 days

He would come in each night after finishing work

And would berate her for flirting for tips

After leaving the bar, he would beat her at home

Hitting low, just above Mary's hips

Her boss saw her marks whens she was filling the fridge

He kept quiet, but he told her to call

A friend that he had, who would help Mary out

He knew her marks were not from a fall

Before Mary phoned she had incredible news

Her husband had been in a crash

Her problems were over and her bruises would heal

And it all happened ...****...in a flash

During this time her sister ran off

Leaving Amber for Mary to raise

Though she hated her sister for leaving

Dear Amber she loved, and she helped Mary get through the days

But eight years along, with no outlet in sight

Hearing tales and of other folks pain

Mary reached out and she found comfort in

A needle and a rock of *******

for three years she spiked, shooting up every day

spending money she stole from the till

And during this time, she got married again

He seduced her when she had no self will

He knew of her problem and joined in all the same

Just a leech come along for the ride

He would help keep her secret, never telling her boss

Never letting them know she was fried.

Poor Amber found out, she walked in one June day

there was Mary with her coke and her spoon

When she looked at young Amber, she knew she must quit

And she knew that she must do it soon

Pure heartbreak she saw in that little girls eyes

She could see how she thought she would lose

Her Aunt like her mother, gone from her life

Mary knew she would now have to choose

Rehab was chosen, and her husband he left

He found out that this train had now stopped

his free ride was over, his meal ticket gone

You could say that his bubble had popped

Two years clean celebrated, at the bar with the kid

Mary got some good news from her boss

He was retiring to Texas and was selling the bar

And he would sell it to her at a loss

She was now the proud owner of a bar all her own

Three doors down from Giannis on Hope

She would run it precisely, the way she'd been taught

She would run the bar clean, free from dope

She would meet some great people,

Some nights in for a drink

And others that she wished would just leave

She would listen to stories, some good some not quite so much

And others just to  hard to believe

She would make friends with some people  And others she'd ban,

making sure that they left with a start

She'd befriend Harry Cooper, the World War two vet

Who would imprint his soul on her heart

And Amber...yes Amber would come down to spend time

She was fine and was going to school

She was a classical ****** in the dark of her room

And I tell you this girl was just cool

Mary brought Amber up with morals and faith

She would come when her Aunt made the call

She would rather hang out at the bar every night

Than to go with her friends to the mall

Mary made peace with the demons she had

She could leave the folks tales and go home

But, now she had Amber and a reason to live

And she would not have to do it alone

the bar's past Giannias, three doors  down to the right

It's not large but she makes  it make do

There's some music out back from a bluesman as well

Come on down and be one of the few

Be a regular there, join up with the crowd

It's not big but the beer's always cold

You don't have to stay long, but you'll come back again

For it's special....or so I've been told

Tell Mary I sent you, you'll get a free drink

And a free ear to hear of your tale

But, leave your ciggies outside for you can't smoke in here

You can do it outside by the pail.

You came in late, again
I said hello, pecked your cheek
and waited for the flow of excuses.
None came.
You went and poured a drink
I sat awaiting your words.
You came back in, sat heavily down
and looked at the floor.
I felt rage inside my breast,I had news to tell.
You never asked how I was, or how my day went.
I sat quietly waiting, listening to the ice ***** the glass,
I felt as vulnerable as that ice cube, once solid now melting,
waiting, fuming, controlling my anger.
You looked up, you looked at me, no through me, and said
"I'm late because I've been having an affair"
Did a freight train just hit me? I felt despair, but you said more,
"She's pregnant, and is keeping the child"
Clarity liberated me from my stupor, late nights,
meetings, high mileage on the car.
I asked a question,
"Are you leaving me?"
You dropped your head, and said the words most wives dread
"Yes, I have to be a father, do the right thing, I love you but....."
Your words trailed off.
I stood up, took your glass and refilled it for you.
My turn.
"Did you start coming home late because of her? Or because I've gained weight? Or both those reasons?"
Silence.
"Pack your bags, leave the keys, get a hotel bed"
Those words came out so clear, you'd swear I'd knifed you.
                                               ~
At the front door, you turned, about to say something, I cut you off
"Send me your new address, I need it for the solicitor,
I'm divorcing you. And by the way, before I forget, you're not the only
one that's been late, it would seem you know how to propagate"
I shut the door, rubbed my tummy, and waited to be called mummy.

Every place I turn
I can't unsee the horrors I've known
I can't say I have had it the worst
Not by a long shot
But it hasn't been butterflies

No three year old wants to see
Random men in their house with
Their mama when their daddy's not home
And no six year old should have to see
Parents so enraged
And divorcing
Nor should their best friend's parents
Feel a need to adopt them
Even temporarily

No seven year old should
Feel they need to be twenty-seven
And like they aren't allowed to cry
No ten year old should be forced
To choose which parent they like best
Under any circumstances

No twelve year old should feel
Any desire to harm themselves
And watch blood swell on their arms
No fourteen year old should think they're
Wrong because they believed in love
Nor should they feel jaded

No fifteen year old should contemplate suicide
At all
Especially not so thought out
With a grand scheme and everything
Just two months before their sweet sixteen
No sixteen year old should feel betrayed
And forgotten
Or unworthy of any kind of love

Every step I take I am reminded
That life is a widening gyre
Mr. Yeats, you were right
But I can't accept that to be
The only plausible possibility
Which leads me to believe
That with every step I take
Though my heart is torn to bits
By this minefield called life
I get a little bit
Stronger

The Midnight Dawn: The ship begins to dock.
A woman stands, looking down, silently. Black waters swirl salty white foam; Icy waters move through flapping rudders; The sounds of shifting motors pound; This is a beckoning scene for one in feelings of immersing self-isolation; And, Lora stands at this very edge. Lora stands completely unaware of the true beauty that surrounds her at this very moment.
         The ship’s docking, at Dearing's port, in the Kotzebue Sound... Alaska's pre-dawn dark blue skies with it’s tawny orangey gray clouds; A  panoramic view of white snowy peak mountains surrounds the port. And yet, the only thing Lora has on her mind … is a small Inuit village that will soon make her isolation complete.

    Out onto the deck Jeff calls, "Lora!"

Lora turns towards her husband's voice; But then, turns her eyes back to the whirling water over the stern.
  
    "Sweetheart?" Jeff places his hand on Lora’s arm, "I called the shore; The transport will be waiting… as soon as we're finished docking."
Jeff's voice becomes serene.
“ Wow. Lora, I can’t believe it. It’s been eight years since I been home last."
Jeff places his hand on Lora's.
“ It’ll be good for us to be with family. We'll leave the ship before the sunrise and we’ll arrive in the village just in time to see the final day of Tribal Awareness Week. Lora, I wish we were here a couple of weeks ago. I think my mother would have been happier meeting you when she wasn't so busy...."
  
Lora turns…, "You know, Jeff; I do wish you would just shut the hell up!”
Lora pulls her hand away.
“ Please, just keep still until we get up there.”
Her teeth clench.
“ It's another four and a half-hours, to get to  where we need to go. And, quite frankly, I think it's going to be hard enough for me to what needs to be done; And, I’d much rather get through this without having to listen to your mouth all the way up there."

"Alright.", Jeff says in a somber voice.  He turns to walk back inside but then he sees a new flicker of hope.
"Lora, I see the biplane. It's pulling in..; See it? See it, down there, at slip four, on the pier?!” Jeff smile’s pointing to the small transporter; As he does he grabs Lora kissing her cheek. “ I'm go get the porter to help me with our bags and we'll meet you down at the clearing, All right?”
"Fine.” Lora,…with a strain in her throat.
"Fine, let's just get this over with..."

    Lora stands at the clearing;… She watches the ships crew set-up for a day of helping  passengers board and depart the ship.  Jeff arranged for the two of them to leave the ship two hours earlier than everyone else so they could meet up with their connection.
As Jeff and the porter comes down the ramp a man comes down the dock waiving.
“ Jeff!”

    Jeff calls out. "Lora, here comes Gabe!"
“ Gabe! Gabe!”
"Gabe?"
"Honey!? This is my cousin, Gabriel." Jeff says to Lora as they started down the pier to the biplane. “ He runs our local transport."
    Gabe turns towards Lora.
" Yeah, I run everyone from our village up and down the river; Sometimes, I think this little craft here thinks she's just another boat! She so seldom has a chance to be airborne.”
The luggage is placed on board, Jeff and Lora settle into their seats and Gabe starts moving up the sound; Then, after about fifteen moments the little plane begins to lift, up and out, off the water.
  
    Lora becomes startled, "I thought the plane wasn't going to leave… I thought we were not going to be airborne?! I thought we were riding up the river?"
  
"Yes, Lora." Gabe states with a giggle,
"Yes, the Koyukuk River! I'm sorry, I thought Jeff would have told you?! We'll be airborne for just over an hour then we’ll reach the Koyukuk River and then, from that point, we’ll be riding the river for another three hours till we reach the village."

"Oh."
Lora sits back… and begins to stare out at the enormity of the Alaskan skyline. For her, it seems to have no end; And yet, for Lora there seems to be, nothing, nothing at all but endings on her horizon.

    The procession begins...
The parade comes down the main road in the small Inuit village. The local people are all playing drums, jingles and bones and they’re all wearing traditional ceremonial attire.

    Lora starts looking around to find her husband but Jeff is gone. Lora thinks, angrily.
‘ This is so senseless!? Why did Jeff ******* up here? I can't believe this; Here I am at The Koyukon Festival to tell his mother we're divorcing!? His mother never wanted me in his life. He was just suppose to finish his studies and come back home. I'm sure she'll be relieved to see me gone from his life.’

    Jeff comes up behind her, smiling.
"Honey, Honey isn't this wonderful?! I remember my parents and I participating all together in these events when I was small.”
Jeff points down the road. “ Hey Hon, look!" He places his arm on Lora's waistline.

    Lora turns to him with a grimace," Remove that…!"
    Jeff moved his hand and Lora turns to see where Jeff is pointing.
Lora sees, her mother-in-law, PaKaSuk; PaKa begins down the road dressed in her traditional Inuit tribal clothing.
    She has on a headdress made from the skin and skull of a coyote, and there’s a pair of small antlers imbedded on it. And, she has on tall boots made of polar-bear fur that are adorned at the rims with dangling teeth from the hunts of the past.
PaKa sings long mournful notes as she plays a soft singular beat over and over again on a drum-snare of  sealskin and whalebone.
    Jeff waves to his mother; As she sees her son, she begins to call out,


” Come fellow me one and all…;

Come fellow me to the place of the great hall;

Come to hear a tale that must be told;

Come hear the words from the time of old.”

As PaKa reaches the doorway she gestures to Jeff and Lora.
"Please come, sit here near the fireplace."
    As everyone-else  finds seat’s; PaKa kneels down, she looks deep into Lora‘s eyes; She smiles and then hands Lora a small long rectangular box.
Speaking softly, "Lora, please, hold this… But, do not open it right now; Wait until I’m done with my story. I'll return and we will talk."
  
    Lora stares at PaKa thinking…
‘She is an odd woman. To give me a gift? Looking down at the small rectangular box. She makes a huff, ‘ It's probably a brand new pen to sign the divorce papers with. She's probably…; But wait!’
Lora remembers, ‘ Jeff hasn't told her anything about the divorce yet. ‘
Lora places the box on her lap.

    The show begins...
    PaKa hushes the assembly; Cues the drums to play.
    The drums start. It is a slow, low singular beat  beating over and over…; Over and over. beating  slow low beats; Over and over... Again.

    Jeff bends down; He whispers, "Lora, the crowd is so much larger then I ever remembered it being before."
    Just then, a woman comes and sits right next to Lora and the woman has a baby sleeping in her arms.
Lora closes her eye and thinks,…
‘ Oh God… Why couldn’t this woman find somewhere else to sit; Anyplace other than here?’

    "Welcome! I am PaKaSuk...I am the Coyote-woman for my people…, now! But my story is of a Coyote-woman of long ago. Her name,… GaTraRa; The Coyote-woman Who Lost Her Tears.
Come one and all close your eyes. We shall breath deep the air and hear the drums beat…; And, we shall go… into the past.

            GaTraRa became a coyote woman when she was young. Much younger than the old custom....The old Coyote-woman would chose a young girl to replace her and she would teach the girl all of the knowledge  needed to help her people; She would learn all the wisdom of the herbs that cure and when ready she would take place. GaTraRa was chosen… And with great pride and joy of all the tribe.
She had learned much in a small time working at the side of the old Coyote-woman. But, a great sickness came to the people; Nearly half the tribe were lost...
The old coyote woman was lost…  GaTraRa was now The Coyote woman; …without knowing all the wisdom  the old coyote woman needed to give…

    Lora, sits there listening to her mother-in-law; She starts feeling cold beads of sweat against her skin. She starts feeling a slow low ache in the pit of her stomach.
    Jeff looks at Lora, "Are you alright?"
    "Leave me alone!” She swats at him. "Just go away! I'm fine. Leave me to hear this..."

    PaKaSuk continues "By our old traditions the Coyote-woman is not to join with any man; It was said… She’s to care for all the people of the tribe; But…, for GaTraRa;  GaTraRa was highly favored in the eyes of the council, And, especially by the chief elder's son, NeKraRa.
NeKraRa, who wanted the tribes very young new Coyote-woman to be his spoke a plea to the elders; GaTraRa wanted to be his as well. But she knew a Coyote-women was not allowed to join.  GaTraRa was surprised and overjoyed when the elders told her that she and NeKraRa being allowed to be joined...She felt the spirits were pleased.  And, soon after their joining they were blessed...They had conceived a child.
  
    The drums begin sounding faint and far away to Lora. The scent from  the smoke seems to be making her feel hazy.

Lora feels a low dark ache in the pit of her belly; It begins to grow; Her head lowers and her breath begins to labor. The pain is so deep Lora's eyes feel full of heat and she holds-back a feeling to cry out...
  
    PaKaSuk continues…, "It was the time of the hunt!”
  
    Eyes tighten. The pain becomes overwhelming to Lora; From a deep place within … A howling cry cries out!
"AAAAIIIIEEEEE"


    GaTraRa pushes; A baby’s cry fills the room. Her beaming sweaty body falls back onto the bedding.
    "It is a boy! You have a son!” mother-in-law smiles while wiping off the tiny crying new born.
"My child, he is a, strong, healthy boy! And, look, look see how his face shines like dawning light. NeKraRa will be pleased when he returns."

    As her husband's mother places the new born into her waiting arms, GaTraRa thinks ‘ No woman could ever be this happy.’
She looks up and says, "This day is the day of my greatest joy,"
  
Several weeks come and go. It will soon be  time for the men to return

Several weeks come and go without the young men.
The sound of drums call out from the distance; The time  for the return has come at last.
Many come to the Great Hall to greet the men when they arrive. The young Coyote-woman lefts her baby and runs happily to show her husband, NeKraRa, his fine new son.
Looking out, beyond the path, the men could be seen; They look weary of their hunt; Not all who left seems to be coming… The elder  hunters  may be a day or two behind bringing the treasures of their travels ;All the trades made with the outsiders.  The younger men come with the new pelts to cure and with the fresh meat and fish for the smoke.  As the men come closer the young women gain sight of their man; They run to walk with them to the Great Hall. But, but GaTraRa could not find her man. Her husband, NeKraRa, was nowhere among the men.
“ NeKraRa; NeKraRa !“ The young Coyote-woman begins thinking…’ He may be with the elder hunters; But why?’ She calls out several more times “ NeKraRa!”
Grabing at the men as they pass she asks,
"Where is my husband?"
    None of the men would speak to her or even look up at GaTraRa They’d just keep pass by her and enter the tribal council. Leaving her standing there holding her small baby.

    NeKraRa's father comes out of the council hall; He walks to GaTraRa and places his hand upon her arm.
"My child, our NeKraRa met his death over the ice on the very first night of the hunt."
  
    She looks down into the face of her small child.
"That was the night his son was born..."
Softly, sadly she speaks to her sleeping child cradling him in her arms,
"You will hold your father's name, my sweet boy...and his spirit.“
She walks home.

    Her mother-in-law meets her at the door, crying.
In a deep mournful tone, "My child!"
    GaTraRa just stands there with a void look on her face. Then, she looks at her baby. She lifts him up and hands him to her mother-in-law,
"Here mother," in an increasingly laboring tone,
"Here, here is our NeKraRa."

    The next day, mother-in-law waits for the baby to wake. She waits, long…, but there is no cry. She goes to lift him up and to wake him but as she pulls the blanket back she sees the baby's body is still, motionless. The baby is cold, blue and silent,
She lifts him and lets out a long wailing cry, "No...!"
  
GaTraRa runs…, only to see her baby in her mother-in-law's arms; A face full of tears and crying out over and over again, "He's gone...He is gone!"
GaTraRa falls to the floor; She begins to rock, repeating
"No…! No…! No…!"
But yet, now, not a single tear falls from her eyes.
  
Weeks pass since the death of her baby. Her duties as coyote woman become harder for her. Whenever others seek out her help she becomes angry. She says, "The spirits curse me; I went against them with family and now I have nothing; They will allow me no peace!"
All she does is watch the doorways; it is as she is waiting for someone or something...

    The council watches GaTraRa closely. Mother-in-law brings her worries to the elders.
“GaTraRa‘s sadness grows. “
Mother-in-law tells them, “She must be watched. Our Coyote-woman has felt the brush of the Raven’s feathers; Her tears are stuck within… No tears fall.”
Mother-in-law pleas to them, “ Her sorrow grows, silently! I fear, if we do nothing, she will be taken from us as well.”

    The women of the council gather together; They decide to have the grieving ritual for GaTraRa. But, none them has ever done this ritual. This was something the Coyote-woman would do.

    Days pass, the men are preparing to leave for the last hunt of the season. And, the women begin to prepare the council hall. They gather up all the things they could remember from having watched the ritual done times before.
    The chief elder sees the woman; And he asks, “What are you women doing?”
Mother-in-law tells him of what she and the other women have plan.
Shaking his head, “For as far as back as my memory takes me I have never seen a Grieving-Ritual done during this season before; And, without the young men being around. Do you really know what you are doing?”
All the women said, “ We must!”

    The men are gone…

    The women take GaTraRa to the council hall. They place her near the fire. GaTraRa watches as women gather herbs and place them in bowls.
She speaks out, “You don’t know what you are doing!?” Then, her voice saddens.
” …or maybe you do.”

    The women do not listen; Without a word, they begin to place the bowls in all the places they have remembered seeing them before…Recalling, all the men would play drums all night, during the vigil, they each pick up a drum. They gather around the fire. They stand and surround  the fire with their drums; The woman slowly begin to play.
GaTraRa, motionless, looks to the women thinks to herself, ‘Why are they doing this…I did this…to myself. They should not care

I guess I'm ready for this
Signed the papers with my tears
Didn't think it would hurt
After all these years

Friends now, like we never were
But erasing your name from mine
Even though I'm with someone else
I still think "what if we turned back time?"

You tell me you miss me
But you didn't want me when I was there
The saying is true, "you don't know what you got till it's gone"
Yet back then you couldn't bring yourself to care

Our house just wasn't a home
You were there but I was all alone
You worked all day, then with her all night
You never even answered your phone

Now I'm loved and adored
He holds me every night
Kisses me on my forehead
Tells me everything is all right

As soon as the paperwork is through
I'm marrying him after divorcing you
Love was a game I never thought I'd win-
But I did, and my prize is him.

My eyes were trapped in the dark
blindfolded, hold the cigar
the Viet-Com may have won the war
but my surroundings smelled like a grass heaven
in the background 50 Cent’s “In Da Club” playing
and then she sat on my lap
feeling anxious while my hands were tied
let’s just pause and go back in time...

(10 Minutes Ago)

She pulls on my heart strings
like a puppeteer from above
the pendulum of my feeling swings
with every step she takes towards my door
the anticipation knows no precipitation,
the monsoon of her kiss
the outback of her reach
the caribbean sea of my ship,
lost in her isles, her eyes, her love,
then I hear a knock on the door.

She knocks ...1...2...3...4
opened up, I said hi, she launched her lips against mine
in an euphoric stupor, I tasted her breath
while she ropes her arms around my neck
let’s call it “The Aussie Missile Crisis”
she pushed me down on a folding chair
as the right index on her lips shushed me
went into the bedroom with her “bag of goodies”.

Came back out wearing a school-girl outfit
looking more “**** Bill” than “Hit Me Baby One More Time”
giddy as I watched her taking off the tie
impatient buttons divorcing their holes one by one
while she twirled, she danced, she teased
sealing with a kiss, tying to the chair my wrists
her breast against my mouth, I was a cub nearly starved
looks like Mrs. McDonald brought the farm.


...and that’s when her bra came off
to find their way around my pupils
my trouser friend could no longer be contained
with impatient hands, there was no time to sulk
I was more anxious to smash than the Incredible Hulk
suppressing my angst, my zipper, her leather
finding myself inside her beautiful lips
touching the roof her moist heaven.

My hands still tied, while she help my thights
real hard, real soft, real smooth
like her silky tongue, wet like May flowers
climbing up and down the stairs of the Eiffel Tower
she was a cosmic reaction, I was Yellowstone
let me come so you can climb on top
of Mount Everest, from there we could see the Earth
the land, the ocean, the skies, let’s fly together.

...and we did, lifted off from the chair
to soak the water from the clouds
to come back crashing on the couch
and my hands finally free to explore
her breast
her cheeks
the smoothness of her waist
her ****
the erosion I couldn’t contain
her legs over her face
touching
caressing
kissing
biting
trusting
in short
*******
until we both came
back from wherever we went
to just lay there, gasping for air
touching our faces, both smiling
like satisfied school children that schemed
red cheeks, blue *****, smoked the green
I was Joe D, she was my Marilyn
thus ending
“The Aussie Missile Crisis”.

Sue Venir loved Hugh Biquitous, but he was unreliable, so she confided this to her friend, Di Namic who confirmed he’d been seen with Penny Farthing and Miss Chevous. Then she ran into Ken Tucky, who’d just broken up with Jen Erator, and was known to hang with Mel N. Choly. Together, they and Dan Ube went to a party thrown by Perry Winkle at the house of Dana Point.

Con Valescence introduced Sue to Marine Layer who asked Mr. Tucky to join the conversation, and they’ve been conversing ever since. Lou Kemia couldn’t make the party as he was ill. This was confirmed by Nick Knack who’d been informed by Conrad Alert.

Penny Saver left early, heading over to the home of I. Stan Bul, who was throwing a celebration in honor of Hazel Nuts and Grant N. Aid, who were to be married by Will Power, though Miss Givings, his former girlfriend, did not approve. Celebrants included Buzz Saw, Ma Larkey, Ben E. Diction, ***** Pack and of course Ann I. Versary, who deemed it worthy of being remembered. Tom Foolery was always good for a laugh, which was appreciated by Art I. Face, Dee Vice and Tess Osterone.

Some chose to dine alfresco, notably Flora Fauna, Heidi **, and Ed U. Cate. Barb Ituate was a downer, though Ma Larkey tried to cheer her up, watched by Cliff Hanger who wanted to see what happened, until a dispute arose between Ana Conda and Ann Ticipation, who’d both been vying for the attention of Billy Goat.

Meanwhile, in another part of town, Terry Dactyl was in a dispute with Billy Club over Lilly White because of something Miss Conception had reported after hearing from that duo, Caesar Salad and Reuben Sandwich.

Junior Mints tried to mollify the situation with sugary statements, but was interrupted by Yuri Nal, who said he had to go, and then left with Jay Walking and they were off to congregate with Diane Tomeetya.

At the next table General Jive held court in a warlike mood,  that Cary Cature tried to lighten.  With them were Tex Arcana, whose accent was amusing to Bill Collector, Al Gorythm, Tim Buktu and Marv E. Lous, who always had a great time wherever he went.

By then, Bobby Pin, the luscious seamstress, had given up on Peter D. Out, after seeing him clowning around with Butch Wax and Slim N. None, all of them malcontents and disrupters.

In walked Daisy Chain, newly arrived  from the Southern Hemisphere, along with Sydney Australia. Klaus Trophobic had initially agreed to travel with the two of them, but said he had to stay at home. Frank O’Phile overhead this and confided to Phil O’Sophically that there is sometimes merit to such position.

The restaurant was owned by Ty ****, managed by Chuck Wagon, with the food delivered by waiters Clay *** and Terry Aki , assisted by busboyTara Misou.

The next morning, everyone gathered at the home of Dawn Patrol, who was there with her new husband, Earnest Money, after divorcing Perry Mutual. Deb Enture was her maid of honor.  Nick O’Time was nearly late to the party, driving in with Stu Debaker, via a shaky Uber driver named Manuel Shifting.

Al Acrity was his usual sunny self, but not when Den O’Thieves interrupted his conversation, which was shut down by Kay O.

Sherman Oaks and Van Nuys were late, having gotten mixed up on the location. Cliff Hanger was worried about the falling stock market, and as a result was getting drunk with Jack Daniels. Stan Dup was his usually assertive self, but was overshadowed by the always munificent Cy Pres.

Claude Hopper was dressed in yesterdays’ styles, but that didn’t matter to Dov Tail who  was going into business with Matt Chabox, known for his incendiary personality. They had two other partners to round the group out, **** Ular and Ben E. Fit.

Gar Gantuan loomed large, and was unstable when paired with Mo Mentum, who said in such situations, they needed to involve Otto Matic.

Terry Cloth was wrapped around Jan U. Ary, ogled by Barbie Queue and Coleman Lantern.

From love's first fever to her plague, from the soft second
And to the hollow minute of the womb,
From the unfolding to the scissored caul,
The time for breast and the green apron age
When no mouth stirred about the hanging famine,
All world was one, one windy nothing,
My world was christened in a stream of milk.
And earth and sky were as one airy hill.
The sun and mood shed one white light.

From the first print of the unshodden foot, the lifting
Hand, the breaking of the hair,
From the first scent of the heart, the warning ghost,
And to the first dumb wonder at the flesh,
The sun was red, the moon was grey,
The earth and sky were as two mountains meeting.

The body prospered, teeth in the marrowed gums,
The growing bones, the rumour of the manseed
Within the hallowed gland, blood blessed the heart,
And the four winds, that had long blown as one,
Shone in my ears the light of sound,
Called in my eyes the sound of light.
And yellow was the multiplying sand,
Each golden grain spat life into its fellow,
Green was the singing house.

The plum my mother picked matured slowly,
The boy she dropped from darkness at her side
Into the sided lap of light grew strong,
Was muscled, matted, wise to the crying thigh,
And to the voice that, like a voice of hunger,
Itched in the noise of wind and sun.

And from the first declension of the flesh
I learnt man's tongue, to twist the shapes of thoughts
Into the stony idiom of the brain,
To shade and knit anew the patch of words
Left by the dead who, in their moonless acre,
Need no word's warmth.
The root of tongues ends in a spentout cancer,
That but a name, where maggots have their X.

I learnt the verbs of will, and had my secret;
The code of night tapped on my tongue;
What had been one was many sounding minded.

One wound, one mind, spewed out the matter,
One breast gave **** the fever's issue;
From the divorcing sky I learnt the double,
The two-framed globe that spun into a score;
A million minds gave **** to such a bud
As forks my eye;
Youth did condense; the tears of spring
Dissolved in summer and the hundred seasons;
One sun, one manna, warmed and fed.

Ten years ago if you would've stopped me
on the street and said that I'd be stuck
at a dead end job, divorcing my husband of fifteen years,
and dividing three kids between two houses and twenty miles,
I would've spat in your face with laughter.

We never intend to have our life's plans crumble
before us, watching our spouses change into different
people and our children pick themselves apart
because all the words their parents say are fights
disguised in jabs and cracks at each other:
the time
they don't have,
the money
they don't have, the love
they
don't
have.

And in ten years, two people can fall apart the way
a river branches into separate streams, continuously flowing away
from their source, navigating bends and crossing the silted mud of life together
until they split up.

And everything we take for granted,
those necessities of life, are broken
down into their basic elements. Water is merely
hydrogen and oxygen. A marriage is but
two people
who can be divided,
simplified, classified, jarred up, studied,
separated.

Two streams diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not see this coming.

It just happens that way.
Life just happens
that way.

As children we are suffering
not because of our grace
but our parents grace
Have to choose that decision
to make us through such a trauma
WHY PARENTS WHY

Without parents children struggles
as the results we become orphans
But all this happens
not because we didn't have parents
but because of the divorcing thing
WHY PARENTS WHY

Why all this divorcing thing
NO PARENTS; think about your children
Think about whay they go through
Think about care, love and happiness they need
Most of all think about their future
because their future is in your hands
WHY PARENTS WHY

WE as children we are
asking questions which needs an answers
Why letting us perform such struggleness
while you are still alive and sound
WHY PARENTS WHY
Why letting us struggle this way

You fall too hard and you fall too fast
Don't you know you had what lasts?
And I say had
Because it's past tense
I'm sorry that "til death"
Did you part after only a quarter of a century
Makes a man think
It's ok to be scared of loneliness
It's ok to be afraid there's no more shared happiness
It's just a neurosis though
You know that right?
It's ok to feel like you're swimming in the ocean of your bed
And the coast guard is
Not on the way
To save you
Being single after taking vows
Is more than unfortunate
Worse than divorcing
She died
And I think you should be selfish
Just for a while, dad
Because you fall too far
And you fall too fast
Don't you know meteors burn themselves up
Doing just that?
Don't you remember
Camping out in the laundry room
Explaining falling objects and gravity
(which I still don't believe by the way)
Pointing at the sky out the window
Teaching your 6 year old
About the iron:nickel ratios?
Saying "Don't wake mom."
And dad, moons will glide in and out of orbit
Around you
And the vacuum of space
Will at times be filled with your loneliness
And longing for the past
And you'll keep falling fast
Burning up in the atmosphere
Leaving little craters here
And there
From the impact you have
On her
And her
And her
And your highschool girlfriend
And your daughters
And that woman in your yoga class
It's ok
You fall too hard
And  you fall too fast
Don't you know
Only superman could survive an impact like that?

Sitting on the front stoop in a cool spring breeze,
Counting cars like shooting stars,
Simple children's games not to be taken literally,
But focus on the passengers,
And perhaps you'll see,
The story behind the passing Prius or rushing Range Rover.

Perhaps you'll see,
A cobalt jaguar which holds
the tired lawyer in tight rimmed glasses and tweed jacket,
Driving to a large four bedroom,
three and a half bath house,
five kids and stressed stay at home wife.

The bills are getting harder and harder to pay as the economy crashes,
The couple is divorcing soon,
his law firm is going bankrupt,
The bills are becoming impossible to pay,
And all the stress is ******* him,
In a month he'll take his life.

Perhaps you'll see the pretty young,
16 year old blonde,
driving the second hand Subaru,
She is on her way to her high school now,
She is peering in the rear view mirror,
Trying to wipe the mascara trails off her face,
And hoping that her friends and teachers won't see the ghosts that haunt her,

Her mother died last month,
from a drug overdose,
And she was beaten again by her drunk father this morning,
and she will keep being beaten until she has the self confidence to stand up for herself,
but in the meantime,
she'll keep covering the bruises with foundation,
And wiping the tear trails,
apply  more mascara.

Perhaps if you look close enough,
You'll see the little red headed girl,
No older than four,
With large green, curious eyes,
Gazing out the window of a Honda pilot's door,
She is on her way to pick up her brother from soccer practice,
With her doting mother,

What nobody knows yet,
Is the little girl suffers from schizophrenia,
And she hears all the voices,
That tell her to do terrible things,
She has no friends in her neighborhood,
and her parents ignore her,
Focusing their energy on her all star brother,
she is all alone in this world,
just her,
The other her,
And her imaginary friend.

Looking at the passing cars,
And staring briefly at the passing passengers,
who never spare a second glance at me,
I can see these things,
or at least,
Pretend I can,
because perhaps it is easier to see the world this way,
Perhaps it is easier to agree upon the fact,
That we all have our own stories,
we face every day,
Our own struggles,
that lead us through a twisting plot,
perhaps we could all take the time,
to read other's stories,
Instead of trying to perfect our own fairy tales.

So you may say i'm like a child,
Sitting on this stoop,
but i'll just tell you,
To take a seat next to me,
and together we can,
count cars like shooting stars,
and read the passing stories.

In your eyes
I see a different light,
A lighter side of you
And that's when I realize
How beautiful you are to me.

From the softness of your skin,
The wonderful smile on your face
Beauty that's outside in
Divorcing all other thoughts of you.

From Cleopatra of my soul,
To the Halle Berry of my dreams,
You are one well-put together woman I would like to know
No matter how crazy it may seem.

Like the sweet nectar in the morning
I bathe in your loving arms
Your love, your love is showing
Making me sweat from my head to my palms.

You with me alone
Basking in the moonlight
With such love and appreciation shown
That really makes my night.

Me with you together
With words unspoken the best way
No matter the weather
With nothing really to say.

Moonlight O moonlight,
Can you just shine on me please?
Make our night such a delight
As I kneel on my knees.

You, me and the moonlight,
Alone together night after night,
How 'bout us?
How 'bout you and I?

(C) 2004

I'm starting to separate from the walls
our couch
the dishes
the plants and
the map on the wall
where we pinned all the places we had been together
I'm starting to detach from the photos
Our sweet young nephews
The hopes of creating our babes
I'm letting it go
I'm divorcing your dimples
and the fact that your toes are as long as my fingers
and I'm divorcing the anguish
the ******* yearning
the tears that roll down my cheeks when I awake
and there you are
looking at my with a blank stare
coldness in your smile.
Here I am again.
Married to it all
still.

Our grandmother sat in the corner, an irish-plaid towel hung over her legs, in a wheel chair, drinking two litre bottles of apple juice and orange juice, the little droplets hanging off her chin, her head tilted back. She said as a little girl, she would always try to get as much vitamin c as possible if she felt herself getting sick. Now she just drowned herself in the stuff. We kept telling her orange juice is not a viable cure for cancer, so she started drinking apple juice too.

She got diagnosed with cancer a few days after our grandfather died. They say couples always pass within a few months of each other. My grandmother hated my grandfather, so her vigorous orange and apple juice guzzling was really an ambition of divorcing his name from her in death; she didn’t care whether she passed or kept on living another hundred years, so long as no one associated her death with his.

As I left I locked up, remembering to leave my key in the door for Rooty (whenever he got home). We could only afford one key, and couldn’t afford a doormat to leave it under.

I told grandma if she just went two days without buying lotto tickets, we could get another key. She says it’s just her luck that one of those days would be the day her ticket goes to someone else. I didn’t see it mattered, she was gonna die any day now anyway. She wants to win so bad I often think if she did win, she’d die right there on the spot, her life’s greatest ambition crossed off the last line of her to-do list, and being too dead to claim it would be forced to forfeit the prize leaving us here alone with one key, a cellar full of juice and still no doormat.

Ten years shy of our interlude
You watching me punching you.
First impressions were insude.
Who would have thought they would have lasted as long as you?
Hardened shells
Never crack
Passing notes
Hear you laugh.
Searching hallways
Looking back
See your face
Give me that.
A casualty of a hacky sack.
Keeping face and holding back.
Hug me tight
Apology
You won't see a single tear from me.
Turned your back away from me
Never wanting comforting
Especially from the likes of me.
Hugging back
Selflessly
Making you see this isn't me.
Highschool drama
**** those llamas
Keeping rage to a tolerable somber.
Pretending not to see you leave
So far away from my company.
Feeling others pulling me
Away from your integrity
Intentions made so violently
Trying to hate you
Have you forgetting me.
Angry notes are pushing
You farther and farther away from me.
Making us complicating
Something as simple as you and me.
**** this ****
I want this
Complicate me with our trust.
Let me be the one you dance with
When there are others you dismiss.
Passing up what could have been our first kiss.
Day of love
The day I hate
Who needs a valentine?
It could **** my taint.
Down the hall behind your back
A little flower
Now I'm trapped.
Handing it to me
Watching a smile grow widely.
Making my words into hypocrisy
Now they know I'm a girl and see
How you're cracking every bit of me?
Kissing cheeks
Make us blush
Never stopping our blood from the rush.
Holding hands
Intertwined
Finishing sentences
Reading minds.
It almost felt like you were mine
Before life parted us with time.
Far away
Computer screens
Catching up
Living things
Watching you love and letting you be
At least we had the memories.
Fell into some habits
So did you.
What is our lives coming to?
Feeling the shells harden again
Please don't break it
Let me pretend
You don't see me on this end.
You won't be proud of the things I did.
Fall off planets
Wedding bands
Stand at attention
No longer in each other's plans.
Seeing the world is the latest trend.
Asian continent
Back on earth we land
What are the odds
Of you planting your legs where I stand?
Aisle walks
Who's at the end?
Selecting food with a friend.
Stand like a statue
As I ascend
Hardly believing we're breathing the same oxygen.
Did you shake?
When I wrapped my hands
Around your back
Am I an illusion?
Miles from home
And I found my friend.
Bring my songs back to life
Thinking we've change
Together that's a lie.
There's much to do about nothing
To pick up where we left off back then.
The mold I'm squeezing myself in
You trying to keep yourself busy
Any excuse to have a run in meeting.
Find religion
No, but you'll spend time with me.
Watch me do some mormoning.
Maybe come over for some holidays
See the part where I'm cooking things.
Confiding in you that I hate Christmas
And you full heartedly agree.
It's not that bad though on the couch reminiscing.
Pull out year books and point out people
Together hating
What have you been up to since leaving me?
I love long stories
They won't bother me.
Once again fingers entangling.
Almost forgetting to whom I'm belonging.
Don't remind me of what I'm craving.
Here...look at these girls
They're all that you need.
The attention you give me only makes me think.
FHE hide and seek
Sit in my car
Listen to me sink
Oh, you met someone
Isn't that neat?
She makes you laugh
She helps you feel less lonely.
It wasn't until you had us meet
That my inner envy began to creep.
That night before deploying...
Even in front of her
You saying that you loved me.
And I believing it being more than friendly.
6 months out
Desert sands
Losing someone you thought you had
On both of our ends.
Ask advice
The hell if I know
The same thing is happening to me.
I wish it wasn't how it came to be.
A matter of time before you return to me.
Work day
In my registers place
I'm the first you choose to chase
And in response I jump to your embrace.
Relieved you came back in safety.
You came back home
And my home came back to me.
Darken sidewalks
Hand in hand
Tell me how you spent your time in the sand
Your place now
And I confess
There's things I feel
Parts of you I missed.
Expecting you to call me out
It's not fidelity if I say it out loud.
And yet you don't
You mimic me
Telling that you had been missing
Me.
At least we know
We said our peace
No further even though our doors are opening.
Don't swing wide
Don't let me feel your breeze.
Just one toe in
That's all I need.
Game of thrones
Barrack rooms
Wondering what I said to you
Just lay down
Don't go too far
Non make out session
Our hearts pound hard.
I'm on top
My face too close
Touching lips
The story goes
It's you and me
Staring
Can't believing it to be happening.
Just this once and then no more
Kissing as if we never had before.
Trying hard as hell to not want more.
All convictions to the floor
Loving each other like there's a settle to score.
But it doesn't count if you don't say
That you love me in anyway.
Let's keep it casual, I say.
Let's try to stop this all today.
Going out
Drinking scene
I'm trying to look pretty.
And you always look good
In whatever you throw on
Inebriated I try to make you sing a song.
Go out for some air
Let the drinks speak for me
Telling you I love you right then and there
Regardless of whoever could hear.
Moving too fast but I didn't care
If I lost you again at least of have it out there.
Drink me up into your cares
I'd rather be here than where I came
While you tell me you love me all the same.
It's probably wrong for both of us to say
But we've know it too long to be too ashamed.
Let someone else take the blame
Of constantly getting in the way.
Evenings spent in each other's sway
Till he calls or we get too carried away.
Not letting me go home just yet
Don't leave me alone
Don't make me forget
The places I've kissed on your neck.
Crevices discovered
New places of wonder
In and outside of those covers
No control
Let's leave the room
In the zone
Inhale those smoking fumes
Stupid smiles
To one another
They all knew about us and each other
The lust branded us both lovers
Except for that certain act
We broke ourselves not to rein act.
Kissing can be forgiven
But that sure as hell can't
Only when we belong to each other
Would we ever do that.
When and not if
After all of this
We felt too much with every kiss.
Placing each other in each future scenario
Naming kids and watching them grow
In our heads.
Plucking out names as we star gazed
Debating on waiting or straight away
Having our perfect family.
Talking of sharing our lives alone
But we weren't alone.
Knocks on the door
Back home there was met
Someone who found out our little secret.
Confronted
Turns out that I was actually wanted
Could have fool me by his quiet neglect
And we were both being treated like back stabbing suspects.
And that's when the guilt in me crept.
Stronger than I, you stood your ground.
Feeling bad for the conflict but not for being around.
Wanting to protect me from every sound
Of rage and breaking hearted rebound.
And after that it was like a divorcing trial
He'd have me all week and then you on the weekend but only for a little while.
Trying to keep myself going wild
Trying have both of you smile.
Stupid me
Now I see
I'm not the kind of person meant for sharing.
Back and forth and still I'd be
Exposed to 360 degrees of jealousy.
And on top of that you were leaving me.
Not deliberately
Not intentionally
Not wanting
To see me fade away into nothing.
Do our time
Make it count
Get the claw and pull nemo out.
******* there's a gloomy bear?
10 more tokens then we're there.
Photo booth
Print it clear
That we happened. We were here.
Walk a trail and find a tower
Watch the sunset from the water.
Skip those rocks until I get it right
We were always worth the fight
For any of those memories to see the light.
Knowing though right now can't be
Someday you ask to marry me
I've been asked that before
And you see where that got me
You don't blame me for the disbelief
And your ever hopeful eyes still plead
Never thinking back in spite
The things we felt on your last night.
Folding socks
Packing tight
Kissing time away that night.
Interrupted
And I left
Feeling so in completed.
Watch the clock before you take off
I need to make it now or not
Walk right through the terminal doors
And all of your resolve plummeted to the floor.
One last time and then no more.
It's hard enough to say goodbye
I can't do it when you have tears in your eyes
Trying hard to hold back mine
All we wanted was a little more time.
We always joked of how
Hours went by like seconds now
God allowed time to slow
When you're feeling miserable.
In the line
Watch you fly
Now it's only me, myself and I.
Hoping one of us can keep our memories
As my tangible one fade away from me.
Try again to recommitting
To the one I left hanging.
Trying to still be in your mind
But letting go to prove him right.
Then he left me high and dry
Should have saw that coming as soon as you took flight.
Hoping you put me from your sight
Burn my letters and live your life right.
While I deny myself the right and mine
Thinking I deserve it for my crime.
Breaking 3 hearts including mine.
Pass the time
I need to be better
I need to follow his life to the letter
Thinking I don't deserve much better
The one who you had wants out but I won't let her.
Feels like I waited forever.
Reconnected the line to the wrong receiver.
Thought I had done what I thought was best
Hearing your voice say those words and I couldn't contest
With your distance and your suppressed
Empathy for my distress.
It's the undeniable consequences.
Let myself fall of the surface
Breaking ties
Become the enemy
Become the very kind of person
I spent my life loathing.
Prey upon those who'd believe
All the pretty words I'd seethed.
Who knew it could be this easy
To make someone else fall in love with me?
Faceless guys who tripped to see
Any kind of attention from me.
Getting drunk every evening
Just to **** the part of me with feeling.
Touch me want me kiss me taunt me
Think you've made me the one who's wanting?
And then the prodigal boy who bounced me
Came back when he saw what I was flaunting.
You would have rolled your eyes at me
With everything that I was portraying.
Going back to the way I was playing.
In my defense I wasn't thinking.
About him.
About you.
About myself or what I had to do.
Deny the basic human right
To feel some happiness
To feel alive.
Take the bottle and the pills
Waking up the next morning
Disappointment with a side of chills.
At least it was a wake up call
Trying to control it all
If I was going to let myself fall
I didn't want to inconvenience anyone at all.
Play the part
Say the words
Live the lie
Make it work
Made my plans
Aligned with his
Come back home and he leaves again.
Knowing in the back of my head
You were somewhere else
And you lived.
Maybe someone was warming your bed.
Last we spoke, someone did.
Trying to keep my space again
I'd done enough as it is
For you to want to see my face again.
So I had thought
And I did.
You were waiting for my message.
Even if it was just as friends.
Facebook stalking
We both admit
We'd do it weekly until one of us
Started talking.
Passing thoughts
Wait for an update
Profile pictures
Changing
I kept taking more and more
Note on your tagged photos
Wondering who took those.
Did you still have the ones I took?
When you were alone and thinking
Did you have a look?
Did you ever think of me?
Why the hell aren't you messaging?
Then I, with silence breaking
"Hey there stranger...."
Message seen
Then you said you were willing me
To say those words through the screen.
Find out how you were close to me.
How did I feel about visiting?
Driving three hours to my county
And now to you I'm nervously driving.
Pulling up next to you
*******!
When did he get so huge.
Wait a moment for my breathing to ensue.
Unbuckle, get out and walk to you.
Pulled me in
Was the first thing you do
And the the feeling came rushing through.
Like some ****** on a binge
God, it felt so good to be held again.
Trying to avoid holding hands
Check me out
And I'll check you back
Tease each other
Make me crack
Almost kiss
Pull away
**** this ****
Do it anyways.
Walking in public places
Didn't help the pulsing phases
The time apart didn't diminish the traces
Of the physical draw, we just misplaced it
Maybe we should go back to my place
Watching some film while we look away
Baby, let's not get carried away
Close call
You almost made me fall
Crazy how that felt like no time at all
Till we're back on the same spiral.
Catch a glimpse of my swinging face
Smile now frown now back to our places
It's hard to feel so far away
When I stare at your face through this screen everyday
When I fall asleep to your voice at night
When we speak of drawing first blood
How hott it would be to fight.
Making business meetings
Into merging companies
Telling secrets
Making scenes
Silly faces
Fairly lands
Does it bother you?
It never did.
Trying to make my life less complicated
Convincing me
That the ground your standing
Is the one you claimed
Like planting a flag down in the name of your country.
Come to my door
Pull the beasts away from the floor
Then I'm against the wall
Pick me up
Never letting me fall
First impressions are the best
You say hello in a way if can't contest
Trying to keep the shake from your hands
As you fiddle and press all my buttons
Road trip riots
Scream out windows
Call me maybe?
That poor couple.
Amusement parks are just a perk
We're already amused together with the way we work.
Baby, I love you, turn around!
******* A!
The sloth you found!
My jaw almost hit the ground
I went full ****** just now.
Lemonade ice
Wishing wells
Tattooed dad's
Hands are held
Fight the straw
In your mouth
Remind me of my stature
Elbow on my head
Apologize
Kiss my face instead.
See a family struggling
With capturing their own memory
Tell me to ask and see
If their picture could be taken by me
So shy by your own generosity
I lovingly agree
Sleepy now
Wearing out
First time sleeping all personal.
Promise to stay
Regardless of what's happening?
We don't have to go all the way.
Naked now
If you kiss you lose
Did you kiss me
Or did I kiss you?
Alarm clock ******* up the sleep cycle
Waking up to see you smile
Morning breath
Just give me a little while
Get up from bed
Pull me back down
Put on your shirt
Take it back off now.
Taking care of canine kids
Taking a shower while you sit
Ready to go back on the road
Walgreens, gardens, now my favorite abode.
Secret spot that I show
**** rubbing that tree made me giggle.
On the strip
Arts and crafts store
No, I've never been in there before.
We both enjoy what we see so far.
*******.
They're playing Fast Car.
Stares are swapped
Grins are spread
Sharing that secret
Like we did.
Waiting till that song did end
To head to our next destination.
Walk up hill
Serious talk
Sit on grass
Picture swap
Ninja pose
You're built like a rock.
Find some food
But it's too crowded to walk.
Jason's deli has what we want
Only conflict is the drinks that we bought.
You like mine better?
I like yours too
Problems solved
Let the trade ensue.
Ticking clock
Almost time to leave
Rewinding parts of mr nobody
Trying not to let me see
How much you don't want to leave.
Kiss me like you don't want me to,
******* this kid is making me lose it too.
Get in car
Drive away
Call me soon
Drive home safely
FaceTime ******* us off incessantly
If we were in person
We wouldn't need this ******* thing.
Hardly an hour past, and then
You ask when you can see me again.
Make some plans
Rinse repeat
Tabb throw back
Dairy Queen food endeavor
Food lion **** break
Tim minchins radio doppelgänger
Read my brain
You thought it too
Art museum
I'm gunna get you
Riled up
And frustrated with me
It's hard to walk when in my ear
You're whispering
Do you hear a piano playing?
Let's trek back and see
The master of that melody
Hunting down the elderly
That old guy is you
And the old lady is me
Speaking of our future constantly.
Back to the ride
The glove box won't comply
Get some wire to compromise
Take me to get some shakes and fries
Wandering in the mall's walk lights
Going back across the bridge
My paranoia of the road permits
Squeezing your hand every five minutes.
Relax
Scream and step on the gas
You sure know how to make my brain go lax
Check on the kids
And then pursue
The slumber party
Take two
Messing up the room info
King sized bed
Downgraded to two q

I'm so embarrassed for you, I just don't know what to say. But I'm sorry I sleep in every morning and I don't have to punch a clock everyday. I'm sorry you get home from work and you take off your kitten heels......and you're stressed out because you work 40 hours and he's gone and won't pay the bills. I'm sorry you thought about it but you were too weak. I'm sorry I make in a few hours what you make in a week. I'm sorry you're older, but we all have our time. And I'm sorry the height of your day is your nightly glass of wine. I'm sorry I gave a regular my number to tell him when to come in and tip, I've never seen him outside of work so I suggest you get a grip. I'm sorry but we both know the reason you call my phone isn't because of what I do. I'm sorry I'm not the reason you're separated, and I'm not the reason he's divorcing you.

I think it's time to admit some things.

It's time to confess that I don't think I'm beautiful.
Beauty is not just physical.
It's about the mind and soul as well.
I've been told I'm attractive enough to confess it as true.
Yet, beauty I do not see.
I find myself disgusting.
Nobody beautiful could have ever done the things I have.
Could have lost the love of their life.

It's time to confess my sleepless nights are caused by him.
I can't sleep without somebody next to me.
Without pretending that he is holding me as he snores relentlessly.

It's time to confess I've started drinking again.
More like a lot of drinking again.
The alcoholic side of me is raging back out.
Because I can't handle my life.
I prefer the dulled version that burning drink creates.

It's time to confess I do feel emotions.
I feel so much that I am numb.
That I feel like I'm dying I'm so overwhelmed.
Yet it's not your average emotions I feel.

It's time to confess I don't feel affection.
I know I love my friends.
I know I love my family.
But it feels like a fabricated lie when I say it or even think it.
All I feel is pain.
Crushing.
Killing.
Pain.

It's time to confess that he is the only person I can say I love and believe it.

It's time to confess I have no desire for anyone because they're not him.
It's been months and nobody compares.
He is apart of me.
Everyone says I could have better.
Granted couldn't we all?
It's not about having the smartest, richest, hottest, sweetest guy.
It's about having the one who makes your heart melt.
The one who could never break you.

It's time to confess that I don't want to move on.
I have hope he will come back.
He will be him again.
Even if that won't be with me...
I just hope it will.

I confess I'm suffocating without him.
The pain is too much to bear.
I'm losing my ****.  

I confess that I lie to much to my family.
About partying and other not allowed things.
Hide to much from my friends.
Because I'm tired of how tired they are that all my problems revolve back to him.
Though I can't blame them.

I confess I'm still heartbroken over my baby.
And I hate my mom for cheating and divorcing my dad for a guy I only pretend to like.

I confess that I live every moment in the past.
Use my friends as a way to dull the pain I constantly feel.
Use them so I almost feel okay.
Yet I'm still even then stuck.
Being heartbroken by the good memories.
Feeling sick from the bad.

So there you have it.
My confessions of the day.

her world was shattered long before she had the slightest chance to experience the harshness of it.

im pretty sure there are people who get better, who make it through.
and although some people recover parents divorcing and loneliness and being practically raised by themselves, some others turn into drugs and become cheaters and they should have the concern of someone. i mean, who pays attention to these forgotten souls? who will help them become who they were born to be and not a weak copy of their flawed parents?

i'm not bluffing, people do get better and i know at the moment it may seem as the hardest thing you'll ever experience.
baby i know you think you need those boys but you don't, you need the beach and fresh air, and a hot bath when things seem to heavy for your fragile shoulders to handle, you'll need friends who get you ice-cream after rough break-ups, skateboards and probably a shot or two, and fresh air when the air gets so thick your lungs finally begin to charge all those empty cigarette boxes hidden under your bed.

and you will get better, you will overcome it and you'll thank god or better yet you will thank yourself for holding onto to that ray of sunshine, for staying away from the shadows and the chaos, for keeping those dark thoughts that used to haunt you at night in a corner of your mind you no longer have the need to visit.
remember, i love you

I broke away, suddenly and on unsure wings
I stepped forward swiftly into darkness
Giving chase to brighter things
And even I can say that faith is a beautiful thing
Even if I don’t possess faith in the typical things.
Even if it is only a faith in the fragile space
That exist between our heartbeats
Where quiet locks are kept
And keys are exchanged ,
Where lovers each learn
To pronounce
another name.

I have been broken down by numbers
And the harsh realities time has uncovered
Things that remind you, That fragile things die
Like butterflies lose wings
to vindictive trees  
I have been stolen,
And I have been lost,
Bound in life’s ties,
I have failed under different eyes
But I’m divorcing self hate
For a real chance at our
first real date
And let me make this clear,
my love, my friend, my dear
it is faith in the parts of you I will never see
in the layers of love
transending your physical touch
that evades any tie to the end of my pen,
in the reverberating sound of your name in my brain
that I found this thing
that makes me brave
that keeps me sane
And it is in these things I found my faith
And it is faith that makes me believe in improbable things

I broke away, suddenly and on unsure wings
I stepped forward swiftly into darkness
Giving chase to brighter things
And even I can say that this faith is a beautiful thing
Even if It is not faith in the typical things.
Even if its faith in the fragile space
Between our pain
Where we share the stories of which we are made
Collaborative artists, stenciling words to fresh page ,
Where lovers each learn
To pronounce
another’s name.
I have faith that your eyes and
“I love you” both say the same thing.

This is what Dale Yeager- CEO "SERAPH -
The Problem Solving Company"
Says, There’s No Crime Here.
What do you think?

This man I want to help is my son’s father; we were many years out of touch with one another due to many reasons well beyond this situation; but it should be noted that this woman, the one in this, has had much to do with why he and I were not with one-other after 1991 and why the two of us are still not together today she’s also the reason he’s been out of touch with most of his family.
It’s in the later part of 2018 I found out about things which has have been going so wrong in his life. I have been in touch with his family but I always kept them off from talking of this man’s life to me; one day I was told of this man’s brake from his wonderfully close bonded family. They have learned recently his health has suddenly been doing quite poorly; one member even said they’re fearing this woman was setting to rid herself of him; I told them I’ve seen the Philly News about their boy, I didn’t think that boy did what was being said about him, not at all, and I’m going to look into it and see what I could find; and, this is what I found.
Within 5 years 6 months 19 days, from the day the words “I do” left this man’s mouth this woman has isolated him from most of his family and all of his friends, she places herself as his wife onto the deed of his house on March 12th.1993 a full 1 yr, 7 months, 16 days before their said wedding date; First thing being first is the actions and timing of the wedding; she tells his family to come on down, on October 28th.1994, for a big Halloween shindig?! Only once his family arrives they were then told one of the guest, a woman, was the mayor of their town and she’s to officiate on this day, it’s going to be their wedding day?! I looked up the Mayor of their town during that time and the mayor there was a man, a man who as of 2019 is still the mayor down there. His family was understandably perturbed, to say the least. not being told beforehand of it being a wedding as some hadn’t gone thinking it was nothing more than a Halloween gathering. This woman has had this man go through a chapter 7 in 18 and ½ months, a chapter 13 in just shy of 2 yrs, 2 months of that and then once again he’s gone right back into a chapter 7 in only 2 years 2 months, 17 days later??? She convinces this man to sign away his house, the home he has had built from blueprints, over to her first husband; her first husband who has by this time already been moved right into the house to live with them; Seven years afterwards this woman gets herself replaced onto the deed as an unmarried woman along with her first husband as an unmarried man who does all this 7 years, 10 months, 23 days to the day he took it away from Joe and without any financial considerations from her what so ever she’s on the deed as a single, unmarried, woman?!
How did a man with near $200,000, Bankable dollars who has had the ability to with straight-up with cash buying land and having his house built and having his very close family with his two brothers and a sister and so many loving friends, many of those held since grammar school, how could a man such as this man go from “I do” to having no body, no family, no friends, being $230,000 into debt and having to sign over the home he had built and having, now, to having to sign it over to her ex-husband all so you could have a roof kept over the heads of those you see as the only family you have left in this world. All of this has been done to this man, to a good man, all within 5 years 6 months 19 days; I also found even more way more deepening financial troubles down the road for him. I also found a fourth bankruptcy court case set in 2014 in Joe’s name for a foreclosure; a case on the house he no-longer even owns and he hasn’t owned one percent of it since May 11th. 1999?! How this could be done, is for the life of me, I do not understand??? At this point in time, this man is well over a half a million dollars in debt?!

In late September of 2019, I mailed him an Acknowledgment of Paternity form with the DNA testing office information to my son’s father so he could have all the test-work done. Then in November, I went down to see him after I had my book published; I gave him a copy; this is the first time I spoken to this man in decades. I wanted to tell him all that I learned about her and find-out what the hell was going on straight from him; but, I couldn’t. When I saw a medical-contraption strapped onto his chest, attached to his heart?! I just told him he needed to come home where he belongs. Joe said to me he had nothing to give to the boy?! I told him, I already knew that but I’ll be here to take care of him in any way he needs.
He said, he wouldn’t, he couldn’t;” I made bad choices.” He tells me, now, he could never leave from where he’s living no matter… his words,” No choice.” He seemed frightened. I couldn’t tell or question him i couldn't say anything further about anything knowing his health was so uncertain.
After his surgery, while he was still in recovery, we were talking on the phone with when he saw them coming down the hall; He said, “My family’s here and he hung-up. Time passed, he was out the hospital, I tried calling him but when I dialed his phone it said the number has been disconnected?!
On February 23, 2020, at 6:33 pm. there was a message I found which was sent on my face-book account it was sent this woman saying, “…happy he will be where he should have many years ago. It’s time he’s yours.”
I waited a while and asked a family member and I was told his phone number hasn’t changed?! Calling from a different phone he picks-up but as he hears my voice the phone went click.

Looking into his so-called wife’s actions, I seen markers of illegal activities far beyond those I thought I would. Beside his home this man’s name was attached to many homes not only in his town but on his block?!  It wasn’t as if he owned all of block 44 of his town nor has the paperwork to these lots make it into a true-file at their County Clerk’s office; one of the most important functions of a County Clerk’s office is the recording of all the legal documents associated with the properties and during the time his name was on his deed 22 files which were claimed filed but had no paperwork to show… whole files were missing from records and this wasn’t happening prior to his arrival to these town nor any time after signing away his house to her first husband?! I had also found this woman and her first husband have been living well beyond their means; they’ve been traveling on multiannual cruises together and they’ve even been paying for others to go traveling with them. The first husband himself is the owner of two rather large sized boats and both of them have been jetting-setting off on many out of town trips together all year long, leaving Joe to stay as the caretaker for her two children; this woman’s first husband is a. retired, Riker’s corrections officer and he’s not a man from a family of financial means?!

I started gathering the names of the others on these filings where Joe’s name appeared, I found they’re all of people living on that 44 block, all of them; and her first husband’s name was also in on this list 2 times, twice, before he was ever signed over onto this house, before and without, any file to show?! His name on 3/2/99 and 5/11/99; she had his house signed over her first husband on that day, Happy Mother’s Day?! Then, I looked up first husband’s name on the property and found a third empty file posted for a SUPERIOR MORTGAGE also being filed on 5/11/99

Those words after his surgery, “My family’s here…” was eating me up inside.

I see all this as well as knowing the idea of his needing to have even more surgery and knowing just what it took for her to get this man in the first place by September 23th. 2020 I was beyond the ability to say nothing anymore until his health was better; I called him up from my landline and told him just what she had tried to do back in 1991; how this female inside a little beige hatchback tried to run over my child and he calls her his family; I let him know just how much it was she who was interfering with our relationship back then; I knew she was right there hearing everything I was telling him, I didn’t give a care about it; But, I didn’t want to let her know everything I have learned about how it is that he’s not owning his house anymore. He told me he’ll be in touch with me… and we ended our call. On October 1,2020  while researching and printing out more information on just how I think this female ,Puttana, did what she did… I came across this new file in his name?! It was for a UCC1!? What? How could he be filing this without holding ownership on this house? I began looking into and watching files on this company; from that day ‘til after I hired Dale Yeager, there has been 23 files from this company for UCC1’s for block 44 alone and only four others within their whole township?! 23 out of 27 and 23 all from on the same block, nothing off about that and one of those names are of a man who’s not even a property owner and has not been one in 21 yrs.?! I did make a much wider search on this company itself but we’re only looking at this Joe’s block here and now. This company began showing files here for this whole town back in 2019 and to date they have filed only 40 files all together in this town and 30 of them are from block 44 and, FYI, only seven files were from before 10/01/2020 Dale Yeager says there is nothing off???
I also began seeing other things as well; I began seeing mortgage flipping going on here, where people were selling and buying their own homes over and over and then they’re paying off those 30 yr. mortgages within 5yrs and many of these even underneath a two years, on a 30 yr. mortgage?! And those people doing this were using the same clearinghouse?! All these are earmarks of money being funneled; this begins just after 1999 and there seems to be a line-up connection to these two’s traveling itinerary. But Dale at the end of his day says there’s nothing there; he wasn’t saying that when I first show these to him.
I hired Dale Yeager CEO of Seraph through bark.com, on April 10th. 2021 It was through an Email titled; It's about Husband-abuse. I gave him all my information and of what it is this investigation was about and I told him I was hiring him to help me to look into Lynn and her first husband; by this point I wasn’t sure if she even ever divorced herself from her first husband and she could have merely tricked everybody in his family as well and it wasn’t just him with that Halloween wedding. I sent Dale two different background checks for each of them; for Lynn, this woman, for,Kevin, her first husband, and for the one who is to believed to be second husband, Joe; … none of these shown marriages or divorcing information. I gave Dale all his family’s information so he could call them all to gather up what information he would need to help Joe; with a long list of everybody’s websites. I hadn’t much to give about the first husband other than his job, where he lived when she was known married to him and the year she married him.  I did have and I gave Dale all of Lynn’s information for where she lived before, It was a complete background back to her grammar school days when she lived on 65th. Street and all her brothers and sister information, I knew her and her family growing up. I was only vague about what I knew on her husband Kevin’s.

When I received Dale’s first report, it was wrong; it was on some man with Joe’s middle name and his last name, it’s not on the first husband’s name at all?! I told Dale the name on this report is wrong and Dale told me that I was wrong??? We argued about this but then Dale says to me it must be an AKA the first husband was using and just push through the questionnaire and it will make sense as the investigation moves along; the second report was on her and even this report had not made any sense to me at all; it was saying that information I know to be positively true was fraudulent; and again Dale tells me I’m not correct and that all his information was checked and was accurate information; his words,”… we have direct access to the records so we can have verified data for you!” I should just get through the questionnaire and it’ll become clear! It was clear to me this man kind of an ***… I grew up knowing about this girl and her family; her parents were friends with my mother and I’ve been inside their house on 65st. as a kid?!  Dale tells me I’m wrong??? And now he’s saying to take info I find and put them into these grid-sheets? It’s busy-work. I asked him again about the first husband’s name not being in the reports. I knew, once I hired an investigator time wouldn’t be on my side because it’ll known fast; I’ve been being monitored ever since my book’s been out and sent Joe those Paternity papers. I had to get the work done fast or they’ll cover their tracks. It’s been eleven days and all I needed most from Dale is of her marital status-proof with these two men everything else of illegal activities I’ve given to Dale in those three full mailers I sent are anywhere near as important?!
I wrote to Dale later that night, I just found out that Lynn and Kevin just returned back from another trip down to Florida, why they or anyone our age would go down there during Spring-Break is anyone’s guess; It worries me to think the kind of danger Joe is in right now... they both have and given Joe Covid; all three have went into hospital?! Joe was sent home as I’ve been told, Lynn maybe back home as of the time I’m writing you this, Dale but as far as for Kevin he was being placed into a room; At least Joe was able to go back home right away with it being a mild case but I would think this will put off his needed surgery for a while. I do hope Kevin makes a full recovery; I’d prefer him in jail than in hell for what the two of them have done to Joe.

On May 8th.6:40pm. Kevin’s dead, he died tonight; this is what I Emailed Dale.
Next morning Dale sends to me, ‘Thank you for this update.’ As cold, as silence itself.
This man is dead and… ‘Thank you for this update.’
I started working harder to gain as much information as I could gather; I fear, now, with Kevin's death Lynn's going to turn all her sights back towards Joe telling him, he's her husband: and, he has a duty to be there for her... by her side.
With Joe not knowing what we’ve been learning about who knows… Now, she's alone, who knows what is going on inside her mind.
I hope we can find and have everything we need very soon.

June 11th. I sent Dale an Email; Hello Dale I'm wondering what's going on with the files I sent you and the work on Kevin? Dale, are you seeing the same as I within those files I sent?  
The same day Dale wrote back…; Theresa; Yes, I am and the data was shared with the team. We are waiting for the financial accounts data. Dale
When next Dale and I spoke it was June 22nd. I sent the third box full of files completely fixed to him.
Email; Hello Dale; I sent you a package you should get it today; Please let me know when you get this; I fixed all the files in a mortgage, discharge, names of party and the block and lot numbers of property’s order. Hope they are useful for you.

Twelve hours later I get an Email; Theresa, I received the package and will review asap. Dale

Next thing I heard from Dale, Mon, Jul 5, 2021 11:15 am; Theresa good morning. Everything we could find and verify is in the last updated report we submitted. The next step is the POA. We will have that to you this week. Dale
This seems off?! The next time from Dale was Tue, Jul 13, 2021 3:00 pm Theresa; attached is the next update please review and email back your answers to our questions. Dale
Now, again Dale sends a report for the wrong person; a person who has my son’s father’s middle name and his last name?! This one also has her first husband’s name on it but Dale said he was sending a POA Report; what happened? At this point I don’t know what to think; I feel as if I’m being placed onto a treadmill?! I don’t have the ability to do this search on Kevin I can’t go any steps further then I already have... I gave Dale everything I could; and I told him this; He says ...Just to do it.
It has been since that night, September 23,2020, I last spoke with Joe; and it’s now been more than 8 months of continuously searching and working on this thing;  and during this I’m finding way more than I ever wanted to know about  what this poor man has had to endure during these past three decades; if only I were a stronger person back then before she got her hooks into him his life would have been so much different than all this...
But as for, Dale Yeager’s actions with this investigation; he has been with complete unprofessionalism, I think he’s a crook.

"Janice, I sat next to you in Latin.
We were sophomores.
You were a cheerleader
but smart too.
The excitement was unbearable
(Cicero; the shape of your sweater . . . ).
I asked you to play tennis."
"You did never."
"Yes, I did."
"I suppose I didn't want to get sweaty."
"So then you would have gone with me to a movie?"
"No, I doubt it. . . . I was a brat."
"You were divine.
I wrote a poem for you in Latin."
  
"Lynda, we met at The Three Penny Opera.
You were an usher.
I was a college student; you were in high school."
"Yes, a 'townie'."
"I put my arm around you.
I stroked your hair.
When I tried to kiss you on the forehead our noses collided."
"I was expecting a lip kiss."
"It was a powerful attraction,
but it wouldn't have worked."
"No, we could have made great love,
but it wouldn't have lasted."
  
"Gina, you lived on that 'hippie farm'
at the edge of town.
I was the 'knowing elder',
the one who'd worked on a real farm.
You were so high-energy, so alluring.
Guys flocked to you:
William and Michael; Davy, back home;
sexually involved with all of them."
"Not Michael really."
"You seduced me--
I think you wanted to make William jealous--
not that I was unwilling. . . .
I was, however, impotent."
"I wanted adventure and, yes, I suppose I did want to make
       William jealous."
"Our intimacy awakened me.
I realized what I'd been missing.
Your rejection was devastating."
"I didn't mean to hurt you.
I didn't know you were so fragile."
  
"Carla, I loved you in your apartment.
It was all softness and warmth;
**** carpet, soft bed,
Carole King on the stereo. . . .
We slept together, showered together."
"I really listened to Carole King?"
"Your parents were divorcing.
You didn't have time for a relationship."
"I don't think I was ready."
"Just as I was overcoming my impotency. . . ."
  
"Sarah, I loved you on a camping trip.
We kissed at dusk in the Great Smoky Mountains."
"I remember."
"I felt so connected--
physically, intellectually, emotionally.
You smiled with your whole face, with your whole being.
I wanted to be with you steadily.
You said it wouldn't work.
I guess you were right:
I couldn't love someone who couldn't love me completely.
When we parted,
I cried uncontrollably."
"Yes,
I remember."

January 1st
I woke up in bed next to you.
I had the flu.

January 5th
I wasn't sick anymore but I was so depressed.

January 7th
I called you crying hysterically.
By the end of the call...
You told me that you wanted a break.

January 9th*
We decided to wait till I went back to Texas for the break though not speak at all from when I left to when I came back.

January 11th
I realized I was pregnant.
I called my best friend asking for a pregnancy test and a cigeratte.
I had stopped smoking for you when we got together.

January 12th
I boarded a plane.
I was so sick.

January 13th
I couldn't eat without getting sick.

January 14th
I couldn't drink water without throwing up.
My mom told me she was divorcing my dad.
I laid in bed all night in pain mentally screaming/praying for my baby to be okay.

January 15th
I woke up and had miscarried.
I was approximently 3-4wks pregnant.
I almost killed myself that night.
I didn't because I knew it would **** the guy I loved.

I layed in bed for a week. Didn't have the energy to eat let alone speak. I became so frail. So thin.

January 25th
I realized we weren't getting back together.

February 1st
I relapsed on pills.

February 4th
I was back in town.
I stayed the night at your house so my mom could talk to my dad.
We hadn't spoke in weeks.
By the end of the night we were us again.
However, you were so different in general.

February 6th
I overdosed on pills.
You sat there next to me.
Crying your eyes out.
Pleading with me to stop.
You sounded so angry and you were shaking.
I could hear the fear in your voice.
See how much you loved me in your eyes.
I stopped without a thought to it.
I couldn't hurt you.

February 7th
I had to go back to Texas again.

February 14th
You accidentally said you were my Valentine.

February 15th
You asked me about getting back together.
You backed out.

Time passed we were bestfriends yet there was more.* I came back to town and you had a distance with me. After spring break I could feel you coming back to me.

April 18th
I was emotionally done.
I allowed myself to get manipulated.
I made the worst mistake.
I lost you.

April 19th
I tried to **** myself.
I chugged whiskey.
Then...
Chugged cleaning fluid.
It didn't work...

This entire year has been hell. All I think about is you and that baby. I still love you. I can't figure out how to get past this. Something in me has died. Died with that child. Died with losing you. Smiles aren't real. Happiness is pretend. It took me months to stop crying everyday. Yet I still find times where the tears won't stop coming. The pain is the only thing real. I just can't wait for this hellish year to be over.

Maybe then I can start new...

If slumber, sweet Lisena!
  Have stolen o'er thine eyes,
As night steals o'er the glory
  Of spring's transparent skies;

Wake, in thy scorn and beauty,
  And listen to the strain
That murmurs my devotion,
  That mourns for thy disdain.

Here by thy door at midnight,
  I pass the dreary hour,
With plaintive sounds profaning
  The silence of thy bower;

A tale of sorrow cherished
  Too fondly to depart,
Of wrong from love the flatterer,
  And my own wayward heart.

Twice, o'er this vale, the seasons
  Have brought and borne away
The January tempest,
  The genial wind of May;

Yet still my plaint is uttered,
  My tears and sighs are given
To earth's unconscious waters,
  And wandering winds of heaven.

I saw from this fair region,
  The smile of summer pass,
And myriad frost-stars glitter
  Among the russet grass.

While winter seized the streamlets
  That fled along the ground,
And fast in chains of crystal
  The truant murmurers bound.

I saw that to the forest
  The nightingales had flown,
And every sweet-voiced fountain
  Had hushed its silver tone.

The maniac winds, divorcing
  The turtle from his mate,
Raved through the leafy beeches,
  And left them desolate.

Now May, with life and music,
  The blooming valley fills,
And rears her flowery arches
  For all the little rills.

The minstrel bird of evening
  Comes back on joyous wings,
And, like the harp's soft murmur,
  Is heard the gush of springs.

And deep within the forest
  Are wedded turtles seen,
Their nuptial chambers seeking,
  Their chambers close and green.

The rugged trees are mingling
  Their flowery sprays in love;
The ivy climbs the laurel,
  To clasp the boughs above.

They change--but thou, Lisena,
  Art cold while I complain:
Why to thy lover only
  Should spring return in vain?

Ability looked at the cards
For mercy with a silver eye.

Survival was not self-immolation.

No matter. No spirit.
No silence. No echo.
No piety. No touch,


An anesthetic to minimize shame
Anesthetic for temptation.
Anesthetic for the terror of wild abandon.

Ability bled delicately, red to silver the moon's translation as cold as ever.

His dignity long misunderstood, vague until now. She his witness and detached accomplice.

Ability swallowed his bile and licked his lips as it stung his insides, appropriating the mannerism of the stone prince, vigilant of the ever presence. Stiff upper lip, a  gaze cold. Dead.
Ability was not born an orphan. He adapted this persona in memory of They who molested his sincerity and are still walking free among the living, feeding from the corals of truth. Innocence and good will as innate a pleasure principle as the ignorance that abounds would be unlearned in a meticulous exercise of freedom, keen conversation and select divulgation of self. No more would a vampire ravage his inner whole unless absolute expulsion was the contract. Giving himself to vice completely, void of distraction and sacrifice. No longer able to cope with his solitary confinement he tiij ti sealing every possible entry, every capillary that might one day offend. Today, dry of want, need, desire, in a perverted disillusion, content in the agony of unlearning helplessness the noble intention of needing nothing from anyone the prudence of minimal human contact the virtue of knowing god from man and the insistence of the free to differentiate the two.

Superiority was a given for Ability as innate as the goodwill, innocence, and ignorance that preceded his testimony to the moon. As indifferent to everyone else as mankind's general ignorance of god. As insignificant as god's indifference of man. As inconsequential as Ability and his devotion to man. A man. A priest.

Ability tended every nuisance. Choice. Taste. Expectation. Desire. He did not quite digest the simplicity of an ideal that was now the enemy- the ideal of taking humanity seriously. Ability, in wonderful lysergic incantation feared these suspicions to be true.  A belief no longer internalized by Ability the Free who now came to understand this bastion of truth: the longest repressed offense mechanism: mankind is alone and has only itself to blame.

Ability's innocent sincerity was ignored, forsaken by he who was dead inside. Ability would bury him as a god only to watch him resuscitate as a mortal. Only then would ability look him- the medic, priest, doctor- in the eye. After disavowing his first and second testament. Ability nailed to his forehead the very first commandment: that of self-preservation.

Ability was divorcing doctrine from totality. Romance from self. Wearing his best clothes, washing his face and feet for the volition to go it alone until death. Roaming strangely the terrain and rivers of Planet Earth, a planet who like himself was almost conquered by Cruel Mankind, Ability realized he had come before the Priest. Ability no longer imitated the passion of the Christ. He laid down his cross. He began his own manifest. For salvation, redemption, and freedom. No longer at the worship of his own tomb, he swallowed his own seed and took his life.

Awake!
                                                        O sleeping
                                                        ­                  October leaf,

                                                          ­            to skate
                                                           ­                          over the ground.

                                                        ­ Your color
                                                           ­                 &
                                                                ­                beauty-
                                         ­                     vibrant,
                                   ­                                          entrance;
                                                  
                                                      no blemish
                                                         ­                to be found.

                                                         ­                                    Freed from your
                                                            ­        
                                                        ­            binding branch,
                                                         ­                                        you
                                                             ­                                           defiantly
                                                                ­                       dance
                                                           ­                                            the
                                                             ­                                   ground.
You give Autumn life one, last breath- before encompassing snows abound.

Upon forlorn and desolate days, when colors fade and hide;
the wind so dank and piercing, it quivers bone from inside-
Your lustrous spirit perseveres, until the worst subsides.

Enduring seasons can never be, as death will come from divorcing the tree-
again will never be your beautiful tragedy.

Personality disordered,
untamed ardor explores
every river delta
and corner forked;
borderline morphs.

Formless torment disorients,
roaring torrent force
forging its course,
divorcing arboreal forest floor
into a gorge.

Clear mirror
gorgeously adorned
with floral orchard, adored;
stream looks on in horror, forlorn-
shore a formidable fortress stormed,
water waging war on
brambles, thorny swords,
and flourishing orchids scorned;
armored only by rain's discord
and fresh petrichor worn.

Today I
Lost my
Temper

Maybe I dropped it
On the way out
Of the store
Where a mother
Swore at
Her five
Year
Old


Maybe I miss
Placed it
When we
Visited
Our old
Church
And everyone
Spoke to me
Like they understood
Me
But forgot my
Name
A lot

Could I have,
Left it
At my dad's house?
Where he
Ignored
My kid brother
And little sister
Told us how much
He
Missed our
Mother
Right after
He had finished
Divorcing her

Perhaps it's
Under the seat
Of our car
Maybe it fell out
Of my pocket
At that red light
The one
When the car next to
Us had a
Man
Screaming
At his wife
In front of their kids
And
One of the children
Cried
And he turned around
And hit them
Really
Hard

This is so bizarre
I can't find it
Any where.

The weather's getting warmer
there's still static in your snowy eyes
and moonlight waxing pale shines
               a searchlight
          through this night's
humming summer city haunts
frames your face and splashes mine
with the truth that lies behind
a well-intentioned whitewash lie
                         that we care where we're going,
                         that we know what we're doing
                       and daily life don't scare us blind.

The Warden's got his dogs out,
our feet barely touch the ground.
And we're not looking back until
we hear no chasing sounds
               so sound the fox horn
and catch us napping if you can.
'Cuz we're just killing days,
running all night and foiling plans.

The silver night was spilling
quiet rainstorms on your dark red hair
and my resolve was waning there
               against those
             smiles we wrote
in that crumbling concrete hour.
'Cuz we'd never been that close
to divorcing deceased ghosts
and coming clean from mud-caked boasts
                          that our chains never rattled,
                          that we never felt saddled
                        beneath our heavy, self-sewn cloaks.

The Warden's got his dogs out,
our feet barely touch the ground.
We're never looking back again,
and we won't make a sound
               so sound the fox horn
and catch us napping if you can.
'Cuz we're just killing days,
running all night and foiling plans.

Tunneled under the walls now
it's high time we put some ground
between us and our yesterdays
that howl like baying hounds.
               We'll pound the pavement
and catch a few winks where we can.
And we'll be living days
and sleeping nights and making plans.

Seniors are suffering!
Hospitals are closing!
Infants are starving!

Good News: Another Broadway show is opening!

Olive trees are dying!
Unemployment is climbing!
Small businesses are folding!

Good News: Another spaceship is launching!

Medical costs are skyrocketing!
50% of marriages are divorcing!
Global warming is escalating!

Good News:  Seasons are drastically changing!

Stronger volcanoes will be erupting!
Storms and tornado are increasing!
Oceans and rivers are polluting!

Good News: Stocks are up! The Market Bell is ringing!

Church attendance is dwindling!
People have stopped praying!
Choirs are no longer singing!

Good News: 4.7 trillion has been  appropriated for federal spending!

Icebergs are vanishing!
Forests are decimating!
Marine life is declining!

Good News:  Teen deaths from drug overdoses are ascending!


Farmers are hardly surviving!
Homelessness is soaring!
The crime rate is rising!


How do we stop bad things from happening?
Are we better off just ignoring?
Perhaps life as we know it is ending?

        Good News:  Let's just ignore everything!




By Milton L. Delgado
March 10, 2019