I’ll keep stepping
Because that is what I do
Disappointment vibrates
Through me
Lack of authenticity
Sorely lacking
Thoughts in head
Disappear
Like a vapor
Dust
It was never real
It was never going to be enough
The mantra repeats-
Enough is never good enough
Toe-to-toe I fold
Like the Edvard Munich painting
Screaming
Bummed at the loss
Of nothing
But
Craving everything
Patiently waiting
Hoping & longing
For a sign, a direction
A brick, momentum
Murky rut for years
He’s wanting to, waiting to
To be good to me
Calling me
Saving me
Bookstore
Customer Service Desk
Teach a class
Youth? Not my calling
God- hit me with a brick, I said…
Raging storm
Lightening cracking
Every where
Anxiety
Doorbell rings
Door opens
Welcomed embrace
A brick, smiles at me
Another brick
Another
And another…
Twenty beautiful bricks
Beat me
Speak to me
Tug at my heart
I am broken
I am found
I am released
On fire bricks
Changed me
Altered my path
My journey
My direction
My momentum
I will never
Ever
Be the same again
Twenty
Beautiful bricks!
**** Jacob Eaddy loved this story/poem that he turned it into a song that he sang for NFA you can see that here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MiwHg-wEBXc (2009)
Please let me stay
I don’t want to go
Over there
Finger pointing
To the dark window
On the second floor
Orange blanket
Blows outside the
Window
Please don’t leave me
Small hand gripping
In panic
Belly growls
Hungry
Curled up on the
Washer machine
Covered in a military blanket
Shhhhhhh
Don’t tell them
I’m here, ok?
Please feed me
I need love
I can’t say if I’ve ever
Known true love
Unconditionally
Please let me stay
Just for a minute
Where it’s safe
And I feel loved
Not alone
Ten years old
I shouldn’t
Feel so all alone
Please let me shower
And borrow
Your clothes
I don’t know how to wash
Can you help me?
Do you see me?
I’m ten years old
And I’ve never known
Safety
Never known
A warm bed &
Soft pillows
A full belly
Three hot meals a day
Unknown to me
Please let me stay
I don’t want to go
Over there
Finger point to the dark window
On the second floor
It burns
This heartache
My lungs burn
I can’t breathe
I’m wanting to flee
But my breath
Is torn from me
It burns
The closer you get
To me
The harder I fall
She can’t support me
I can’t help myself
It burns
And blisters
This fear
Invades my nostrils
And everything
Stinks
Those eyes
So sad
Burn an image
In my brain
That won’t leave me
I can’t run
I don’t want to
But I must
This legacy burns
A panic in my heart
That can’t
Be shaken off me
That smile
Sad smile
Good-bye
Burns my heart
I want to stop
Spinning in circles
What is my new normal?
It burns
I can’t
Breathe
This road goes on
Forever
As I flee
This heartache burns
Dying in the hospital bed
Soft skin, ice chips
Lips cracked and parched
Distended stomach
IVs gurgling in and out of veins
Tumors running rampant
Swallowing internal organs for snacks
A five year battle- ovarian cancer
Touching hands, kissing fingertips- Internalized prayer
“God, if you make her better,
I will take her place.”
Not better
Emotional pain for those waiting
Sorrow
Tears
Monitors blink
Family members fidget in chairs
Like little girls having to pee
Opting to hold it for as long
As they possibly can
Last snuggle in the hospital bed
Your last sweet breath tickling her ears
Death in her arms
Gardenias and peach roses
The funeral was beautiful
Such a beautiful day
Oh to touch your soft skin one more time
Sun so bright
Orange leaves speckle the mountainside
Hazy sadness lurking behind eyes
Tears rolling down cheeks
Feeling faint
Sobbing, grabbing at arms…any
A peach rose in hand
Puzzled faces as I drop peach roses and gardenias on a cherry wood casket
I’ll remember her
Every time I see a peach rose or smell gardenias on a sunny day,
I will think of her
Jeni McCreary
*Dedicated to my Grandma Joyce, my Mom & my Aunties. No child should have to hold their parent in their arms when they die, but maybe it is a blessing? My Mom is the little girl in the sweet dress.
Casualties of War
Father screams for his son
Lying limp in his arms
Needing help, desperate for it
As bombs explode overhead
Casualties of War
Chaos
Burned flesh
Their scent blowing in the air
Little boy with eyes missing
Can you hear him weeping?
For his children?
Both sides, all his
Casualties of War
Tears, wailing, all wanting quiet
A little peace
A little joy
A chance to be free
Faces silent, mourning
Still living
Eyes staring darkly into photo lenses
Hostility growing
Mothers wailing the loss of their children
Food delivered
Running for safety
Casualties of War
Sirens blaring
Civilians trying to get food
Suddenly are on the ground
Praying they are not next
Casualties of War
Death
Alone
Dying, both sides
Bloody babies cradled
In weeping mothers’ arms
Casualties of War
Can you hear him weeping?
Silent sentries
Standing in murky mud
Heads bowed in defeat
Large yellow bulldozers stand guard
Wary of the unified Wood Storks
That have gathered
Muddy, silent, hungry
Unified Wood Storks poised, patient, waiting…
Frogs croak lazily, not realizing
They are surrounded
Fifty strong sentries standing
In murky mud- hungry
Frogs suddenly silenced
Swimming in warm bellies
Large yellow bulldozers nervously
Await their fate
From the silent sentries standing guard
In the murky mud
Misunderstood
Judgments crept in
Minds made up
BOOM
Tragedy happens
Too many times in succession
Suddenly the haze clears
Everything becomes crystal clear
Appreciation for our now
This moment
Please understand
Initially we misunderstood each other
Now I see you in their eyes
Their actions
The way they talk
The way they walk
The way they laugh
Small details in the most
Intricate things
Witty sayings
Silly ways
You’re still here
We are more for it
Shouldn’t we honor those in our now?
Adore them?
Love them?
Cherish them?
Misunderstandings happen
Maybe we should always think about
Positive intention
Family-to-family
Friends-to-friends
Sometimes altered forever
Thankful for the gift
Of tragedy
It reminds us of what is true
In our lives
Right now
Twelve Years Old
Unlovable
That’s what I’ve believed all these years
I am unlovable
Wall so tall, hard demeanor
No one could possibly love me
And yet
Precious baby girl bouncing in my lap
Her eyes filled with love
For me!
To her I am her hero, her protector
Her guardian angel
Twelve years old my innocence was lost
Forever altered
Missing something
Missing everything
Questioning all things
Seeking anything
No one heard me?
Who will save me?
I am unlovable
Laughter, friends, uncertain future
Innocent love
Protection, protector
Happy & positive, twelve year old girl
Shoved in a closet
Bound with rope
She is never getting out
Is she?
Wanting to be found
Heart ache to mend
To grieve
To share… her story
She has something to say
And yet…
Fear
Quiet cup of coffee
One lump in throat
Mom- I have something to tell you…
When I was twelve years old…
Tragic story told… Released
Mending showed up
Peace
Love
Fear abandoned
I AM loved
I AM needed
I AM wanted
I AM watched for
I AM released
Throwing open the closet door
Twelve year old girl has flown
Rope coiled on the ground
Like a dead snake
Loved
But you have to tell
Your story
And get help
Jeni McCreary
————————————
1 in 4 women/girls in the US will be victim to rape, a 25-26% chance in their lifetime. I wrote this for those whose stories haunt me and for those I haven’t met yet… our dear mothers, daughters and sisters that have so much baggage and who have gone through so much. Rape changes a person, fear cripples feeling that you have little or no support. While some may not see their own value I hope one day they will. Their tough demeanor, so hard to crack….simply need to know that they ARE loved, needed, wanted, and watched for. Recognize it now, your value, your future calling you forward. Throw open the closet door and know… you ARE loved!
She introduced them- my parents
She met me when I was 8 months old
The oopsie baby who rolled over on her living room floor
I was 4 years old when she became Mom #2
At age 6- I spilled blackberry brandy in her purse
What a sticky mess
Beautiful blue eyes with a dark ring around the edges
She was sassy, smart, articulate, and feisty
5’ 2” who didn’t take crap
From anybody
Watching Dad and her dance was a thing of beauty
They loved to dance, they loved to laugh
They were always touching- connected in a way I’ve never seen
Every Sunday I woke to coffee & chocolate chip cookies
She was foxy, those hips in her turquoise bikini turned heads
Cherry Monte Carlo with a T-top- our hair blowing in the wind
We would sing like pop stars to Barry Manilow & Neil Diamond
She gave wise council
Shared life experiences
Had more energy than my Puerto Rican friends
She was fierce, she was fun
She let me drink wine on special and not so special occasions
Taylor Pink Catawba
Oh the parties, the friendships, the jokes
Laughter, always laughter
Everyone loved Hal & Ardena
They never judged
They always would lend a hand
An ear, a hug, a drink
They worked hard, they played hard, and they loved hard
Embraced all
Their home was a place of calm, freedom, honesty
She was an amazing cook- her Italian- AYYYYY
Her idea of fast food was a bucket of KFC
Pool parties
Cherry chocolate chip ice-cream out of the bucket- two spoons
She built her own home, yelled at contractors
Stomped her feet and gave them hell
She had three sons; Army Ranger, still born in Scotland, diabetic Scott who is gone
Now with her
She gave her time, her heart, her continuous support
Without pause
Her life experiences helped her to see angles no one else did
Her perspective was unique and different
No one else saw it until she did
Many times she was misunderstood
Her battle, her passions
But EVERYONE admired her grit, her moxy
Her fierce ability to never let go
I loved her, I will miss her, and I will mourn her
I’m grateful she’s pain free
And with the man she truly loved
She’s dancing again
Cutting up a rug- once again, reunited
In each other’s arms
For Ardena B. Taylor (11/17/1939 – 4/20/2018)
strengthdefined 