Tag: Strength,

Woman to Woman

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn poetry2 Comments

Credit: www.mutantspace.com

I remember when I knew it was you

I felt your conspicuous stare

Your obvious observations

You had heard of me through your lover

A man of ill repute

A believer in his own lies

     Who couldn’t handle any truth

 Your curiosity couldn’t stand itself

 So I wonder

Were you

Satisfied?

Or more mystified?

Did you feel justified?

   Unaware that I knew it was YOU

Your morning appearances an insinuation

   Gathering  information about my situation

    I played it cool and remained myself

      Empowered by your insecurity

      Emboldened by my maturity

      Embraced by my community

      I’ve watched you watch me

    And I know you’re not like me

       I am graced by sensuality

            Secure in my femininity

Aglow in my luminosity

    I, too was once under his spell

   My life becoming a slow burning hell

I look at you and see you’re not well

Nearly heartless

                        A vacuous void

Neither shapes nor curves to your body and soul

Invisibly thin

                  As deep as spit

    (Well suited to him)

     Artificially earnest

With manners that are staged

Tinged with feigned politeness

      And a simmering rage

            I cannot say I wish you good luck

You see he’s only interested in a nice little fuck

I celebrate a new life

Possessed of deep roots

A bearer of ripe fruit

A feast for another much sweeter brute

Gimme Shelter

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn abuse2 Comments

credit: ladysilver2267.deviantart.com

Oh, a storm is threat’ning
My very life today
If I don’t get some shelter
Oh yeah, I’m gonna fade away

~Mick Jagger/Keith Richards

The last time she saw him was when he called her a bitch.   It was a dark, late winter evening.  She was upstairs, still in her work clothes, installing a new thermostat in her bedroom. Then the doorbell rang. Who could that be?,  she wondered.  She called out, “Who is it?” as she descended the stairs. Turning on the back light, she saw his profile as she looked out the window.

“What do you want?”, she asked, standing by the kitchen window.  “Is Peter home?” he asked.  It was their son’s 21st birthday and he was out celebrating with friends. They had already had a surprise party at home the previous Saturday (in fact the mud room door and kitchen were still decorated) so the actual birthday night was a quiet one. She replied that he was not.

“But I have a present for him,” he said.

“Leave it in the back hall,” she said. He grew enraged, tossed it in and loudly spoke his epithet as he left.

She had not realized that she was holding her breath for the entire encounter. She listened for his truck’s departure and quickly called her girlfriend (who offered to come over). Her son had not seen or spoken to his father in over two years.  He had grown tired of his ill-treatment after living under his roof for most of his teens and arrived back home on a black February night-his car full of his life.

Since then, family life had resumed a harmonious and healthy rhythm. She and her two children had come to an understanding of the various forms of emotional abuse experienced under her former spouse and their father.  They no longer saw themselves as victims. It was as if he did not exist. And because he did not exist, it was as if the abuse had never happened. And because the abuse never happened, it was as if their past life with him had happened to other people.

This is the place at which you eventually arrive with time, help and healing.  Emotional and verbal abuse is hard to put  a finger on. The former is  an invisible fortress built over time by the one in control. The verbal abuse helps fill in the cracks to keep it hidden. Eventually, you become relegated to a cage with your role in the relationship strictly enforced. Through the eyes of the abuser, nothing is ever done right. This includes every aspect of your life and your very being- your career, housework, driving, raising the children, your identity. You never look quite right either. Something is always wrong with your body. Even when pregnant, the snide comments slip out so you are made to feel fat and unattractive. So, no matter how hard she worked to please and keep the peace, he was never satisfied. Any “mistake” was met with either a derogatory remark or stony silence for days. Any attempt to break free of that role and speak her truth was met with “punishment”.  The abuse only worsened and became more and more obvious.  She eventually learned that her part was simple. Keep her mouth shut and her legs open. Ironically, her wish was not for the relationship to end-only for the abuse to stop.

The implacable mistreatment continues even when the relationship ends. In standing and fighting for the needs of herself and her sons, she was met with false charges of neglect and abuse.  He attempted to take away her shelter twice. His goal was to make her “Scratch, Crawl and Suffer.” These words from his mouth only made her more willing to never back down.  Each meeting with him during this process was like taking a bath in dirty water. It took days to purge herself of the emotional hangover he wrought.

The abuse had a trickle down effect as it was meted out in various ways on the children. Eventually, they too, separated themselves from him.  Self-protection took precedence over the appearance of a normal father-child relationship.

Any contact with the abuser is risky and fraught with anxiety. Even with the absence of physical violence, danger can still be present. Sometimes an unexpected sighting of that person can lead to a physiological reaction. The heart assumes a rapid pace, the mouth becomes arid and the hands become unsteady. The mind races as it seeks a way out.

The universe has a special way of taking care of those of us who choose to move forward. We acknowledge what happened, seek help and eventually forgive. But we never forget.  Instead, we embrace life with a renewed sense of optimism, spreading positive energy and good karma to everyone we see.

The Bad Penny

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn poetry8 Comments

credit: jellygator.hubpages.com

Sunday morning sunshine

Air alive with early morning briskness

My feet hit the pavement anxious with anticipation

for the quiet of a long run

My heart is bursting with excitement

as my legs move smoothly over the hills

At last at the crest of “The Killer”

I remove a layer

The heat of my arms basking in the high star

The finish is too soon, I think

Arriving home I hear the voices

of loved ones breaking the fast

We are renewing a childhood tradition

In a different incarnation

Grown-up, sharing the ritual

with the girls they love

We are filled with glee

Refreshed, we hit the road

But not before stopping for that cup of joe

And then the reverie is broken

He appears:

AN INTRUDER

INVADER,  INFIDEL

INFECTION, INFESTATION

Our blood was once on his hands

We grapple  with this infelicitous situation

My heart races and my hands shake

I move away yet stay put

My protectors keeping him at bay

Polite, they speak in superficial tones

Pretending to be mannered

All the while  seething at the reminder

of his emotional destructions

At last they come for me

surrounding me as we depart

We breathe deeply

Freed again

Delighted that the orchard awaits our pickings

Sipping and Singing and Celebrating

Moving onward and forward

Knowing our lives are full and empty of him

Reunion

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Flash fiction4 Comments

credit: blingee.com

“Arise chosen ones. Prepare for your future.” The booming voice came from a rather small old man dressed in a white suit. In fact, he was completely white with the exception of his piercing blue eyes.   “What is it with these blue eyes?” thought Lola. The old man led them from their room to another chamber.  Three women, cloaked in white habits awaited them.  “Dress them appropriately sisters.”

Lola attempted to make eye contact with them-to see their faces. But the trio’s eyes were riveted to the floor. They appeared to be a silent cloud of nothingness blending into the colorless surroundings of the chamber. At once, they lifted their arms to reveal three white gowns. They held them out to Lola, Tasha and Grace as if they were gifts. In unison, they moved behind them and began to remove their thin slips from their bodies. Then, just as swiftly, the elaborate dresses were erected onto their frames. At least that is what Lola was thinking. She was no more than a mannequin awaiting display in the window of  a department store.

But she had to think fast. Find a way to communicate SOMETHING to these mute maids.  “ACHOO!” Lola sneezed so loudly and with such drama that the three could not help but look up and reply with the standard “Bless you.”

And in that instant, Lola locked eyes with her missing mother, Adrienne. A woman of prominent stature, full of vigor and light in the days before, during and after the Revolution, Adrienne was not even a shadow of her former self.  Her spirit was erased by the abuse she suffered as a prisoner of the Restoration Party. But upon seeing her daughter, she began to feel a bit of hope. For what, she was not sure. Pulling the secret language from the recesses of her brain, she told her daughter snippets of information in the smallest of gestures. Her companions joined with Tasha and Grace.

It was all the six of them could do to control themselves. They had struck gold in terms of moving the plan forward. Lola and her friends discovered Adrienne and her two colleagues were to accompany them to meet the Master. They also discovered that these women had access to all parts of the center because of their status as maids. When they weren’t preparing females for their fate, they could be seen cleaning the Master’s quarters and cooking meals in the vast kitchen. The Master and his councilmen often held elaborate feasts to celebrate any new births that occurred in the Breeding Center or within their own families.  These three women were indispensable as chefs for such occasions. It was the only time in their captivity that they could actually speak or give orders.  Only females worked in the kitchen and the entire staff was under constant pressure to present a perfect menu. The kitchen was also a training school for women as they were not considered worthy unless they knew how to cook and serve their future husbands.

The kitchen-the place where women belonged of course! But also an epicenter of untapped power. If Lola remembered anything that her mother taught her it was this:  Never underestimate the inner strength and tenacity of women. Adrienne’s spiritual core may have been corrupted; but Lola’s arrival was the route to its resurrection.

 

Just a little reminder that this story is a continuation in my “Lola” series.

Last week’s story was entitled Subjugation and Subordination

Subjugation and Subordination

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Flash fiction3 Comments

credit: fineartamerica.com

This is a continuation of last week’s installment Ephemeral Relinquishment

She felt like she had been dropped into a time machine. Gender roles were clearly defined. Women and girls were only allowed to do domestic chores while men and boys performed all types of manual labor. In fact, they lived decidedly separate existences except for those who were “married”. Even then, husbands and wives only shared space in the bedroom.  Education for girls consisted of preparing them for cooking and cleaning of their future domiciles. They were allowed to grow vegetable and flower gardens and to occasionally roam the fields and woods (escorted) in search of wildflowers or truffles to be used for meals. Religious study was allowed if only to help them better understand that their submissive role was “divinely” ordained.

Lola was appalled at the conditions for females. Often, she would be witness to a young woman’s final preparation for “spiritual marriage.”  All females had to be pure in order to marry.  Those that were deemed not pure enough were often relegated to working in the Saddle Club as entertainers for the “47”-a term for the men who did the Restoration Party’s dirty work. These men were not allowed to marry or breed. They were “rewarded” for catching Restoration Party outlaws with meals and women and were free to do with them what they pleased.  There seemed to be no exact standard for purity and many women were often shocked when they received news of their status. Many attempted to kill themselves in order to avoid their fate and others tried to run away only to be shot by the very men for whom they were to be sexual slaves. Still others were deemed to be good breeders (Lola discovered that these women were already mothers but too “old” to marry). They were sent to housing where their cycles were closely monitored. When they were fertile, they were “visited” by high-ranking members of the Restoration Party. The Breeding House was used as a means to further populate the Restoration Party’s members with the goal of regaining power.

Lola already knew that her role was going to be different. Over these last few weeks, she had learned that the Master had chosen someone to marry his eldest son by his first wife.  In fact, he had chosen three. The one he picked as the most “qualified” was to marry the eldest while the  other two were slated to marry son #2 and son #3.  So here she was. Sharing space in The Prenuptial cottage with two of her peers. They were as petrified as she was confident. Better still, she knew these girls.  And they seemed to know her. Their families were key members of the Renewal Party and she had heard about their disappearance shortly before she was sent on her scouting mission. Wherever Lola had ended up that day in the field, she had now concluded that this was not a holding center but the heart and soul of the Restoration Party’s operations.

She just needed to find a way to communicate with Tasha and Grace. Because all of their movements were recorded, speaking openly was out of the question. During the upheaval, Jack had taught Lola and many other Renewal Party members a secret sign language. It proved to be useful now.

“Don’t worry my friends, ” Lola signaled.  “We are going to hatch a plan that will free all of us.”

August Blues

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn poetry26 Comments

Photo credit: wermsgarden.com

The sun makes one last valiant effort to shine through the mist, and for a few seconds, everything steams, yellow and gray. Then the rain sweeps in and everything is gone.

A trip back in time when this month’s beginning was her world’s ending

Bracing for the inevitable

As the storm’s clouds raged in the distance

And when it came, her body crumpled in defeat

Nights sleepless, Days motionless, Tears endless

Rifling through papers

Reading

The Destruction

The Anger

 The Deceit

      She

Collects

Gathers

Tosses

Burns

  Returns them to the Earth

 Dissipating Disintegrating Disappearing

Extinguished and Extinct

#FWF Free Write Friday: Famous Last Words

This week’s prompt from Kellie invited us to take the last few lines of a memorable book or poem and create a story or poem based on it. This quote is from the last two lines of  “Those Who Save US” by Jenna Blum (her first novel- I highly recommend reading it).

August is not a favorite month of mine and I have been thinking of ways to write about some jumbled up feelings that this month represents for me.   Kellie’s Karmic Connection has helped me sort them out a bit!

Ephemeral Relinquishment

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Flash fiction3 Comments

(photo credit: asi.fullerton.edu)

A note to my readers: This story is  another installment from my series that began with  Underground Hope ,The Scout ,  Captive & Inspection

Lola woke up with a start.  Looking around, she could see that she was in a small, stark room. An undersized window provided the only light.  And the door looked to be made of steel. She lay on a single bed under a single sheet. It was hot. Stifling. She was still naked. Was this the way they were keeping her here? Was she somehow supposed to feel embarrassed or ashamed of her body?  Her bareness would not interfere with any planned attempts at escape. Lola knew she may be stuck in this place indefinitely but she would never give up on thinking of ways to leave.

As she lay there, her thoughts drifted to her mother. She had been one of the women who had disappeared during the time of the Restoration Party’s rule. She was considered a threat because of her outspokenness as well as the fact that she was a spiritual leader. The Restoration Party believed that all women were to be demurring if not silent. Furthermore, they held the belief that only men qualified as religious leaders. Lola and her father, Jack were determined to find her.  Lola was hoping that this latest quest would lead her closer to Adrienne.

Her reverie was interrupted by the jangling of keys in the lock. Lola sat up. The door opened slowly. Then the sound of boots followed by four shadows.  A tall formidable looking male wearing jeans, black t-shirt and boots walked toward Lola. His face was youthful and his black hair was closely cropped. Everything about him was dark with the exception of his fiercely blue eyes. Lola looked behind him. The shadows were actually four women, dressed in plain white dresses.  Their hair was in a long braid that flowed towards the floor. They eyes were cast down so as to obscure their faces.

The man pulled the sheet from Lola’s body. She looked straight into his eyes, unflustered by his movement.  He grabbed her by her chin. “Lower your head, girl. A woman never looks a man in the eye. You better get used to it.”

“And what will you do if I don’t?” she replied defiantly. With that, he picked Lola up and pinned her to the wall. “Oh, we’ll just send you over to the Saddle Club’s cage. You’ll become the daily delight of the Rifleman and his kind.”

The thought of this turned Lola’s stomach. She was beginning to get the idea of the Restoration Party’s policy on women.  Spouses. Servants.  Sex Slaves. Servile. Silent. Submissive. Bound to Bondage by decree of the Master.

Lola decided not to tempt fate. If she was going to gather information, she would need to get as close to the position of power as possible.  She offered herself over.

Leibster Award

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Awards4 Comments

liebster

For those who are unfamiliar with the Liebster Award rules here they are :

1. Thank the blogger who nominated you for the Liebster Award, and link back to his or her blog.

2. Answer the 11 questions that your nominator asks you.

3. Post 11 random facts about yourself.

4. Nominate 11 bloggers of your own, with under 200 followers, whom you think are as awesome as you.

5. Create 11 questions for your nominees.

6. And finally… Display the Liebster Award logo on your page.

   11 random facts about me:

1- What made you start blogging the very FIRST time?

I was encouraged to start a blog by my oldest son and my fiance’ in the Winter/Spring of 2012. According to them, I have a way with words!  So, I read books on writing (Bird by Bird by Annie Lamott and On Writing by Stephen King), attended a writing symposium for an evening at Eckerd College in St. Petersburg, Florida (hosted by authors  Dennis Lehane and Andre Dubus III) and read lots of memoirs. And with the help of my oldest son’s girlfriend, created my blog last August!

2- If you had to go to a deserted island for 3 months, what 5 things would you not be able to live without?  Books, paper and pen (I count them as 1 thing!), strong coffee, my sons and my fiance’.

3- What size shoes do you wear? 7.5

4- Do you believe in true love and why? Yes but only when you are happy with yourself first and understand who you are. True love is not the stuff of Lifetime movies.  In my experience, I found that it brings me a strong sense of peace and simmering joy.  The person you are with understands you on a profound and deep level- your essence.

5- How old should a person really be permitted to drive and explain why?  Eighteen! Having two sons get their license at 16 and 17 and seeing how much better they are 3-4 years later makes me think that 18 is just about right. Executive function and the fusing of the pre-frontal lobe in the brain usually occur in boys between the ages of 18-20.

6- What is  your favorite meal of the day?  I have no favorite actually! I like all 3 meals for various reasons. I am mindful of what I eat (even when it comes to dessert!) so I enjoy every bite of anything that arrives in my bowl or on my plate!

7- If you could control the weather, what would you choose?  A day much like today. 77 degrees F. Dry and Sunny with the bluest of blue skies. I mean you cannot believe how brilliant it is out there!

8- If you could eliminate one thing evil in this world, what would that be?  All forms of violence, abuse, oppression, suppression and repression towards women. When women are held down, disrespected, or not allowed to have a voice,  everyone is held back from moving towards the fullest expression of themselves and towards being  a gcontributing citizen of the world.

9- We have animal protection, child protection, should we start having laws protecting elderly persons?  Absolutely! We treat our elders as if they are waiting to die rather than a person who has lived a life and deserves dignity and the utmost respect.

10- Have you ever had a speeding ticket and when was that?  Never! A warning once but never a ticket.

11- What did you want to be when you were in Grade school?  I was too busy playing to even think about it!

Eleven Facts About Myself:

1) I love to run and have been involved in the sport at various levels since I was 11 (that is 41 years with some time off in my 20’s).

2) I love yoga almost as much as running. My mat is always out and I attend hot yoga classes regularly.

3) I love being outside-hiking, mowing, shoveling snow, running, walking-any reason to get out every day.

4) I love good food and I love to eat.

5) I love a good strong cup of coffee in the morning when I wake up.

6) I speak my mind. For years, I forgot how to do that and now I do it all the time!

7) I love being a mom to my twenty-something sons. They turned out to great men thanks to me!

8) I love to write and read. I think the only time I didn’t read a book was when I was giving birth to my sons!

9) I love the beach-no matter what season.

10) I love spending time with my girlfriends.

11) I love training for and running in half-marathons with my fiance’.

Many of the blogs I follow have more than 200 subscribers or have already been awarded a Liebster.  So after careful consideration, I am nominating the following wonderful writers:

1) Heidi Barnes at: http://www.anauthorandhermuse.com/:  Gifted writer. A joy to read.  Check out her books.

2) Annie at  ANNIE’S MUSE  Love her poetry and her point of view.

3)  Charlene  whose words really rock! at Brighterdays Blog

4)  The lovely and powerful Pink Woods

5) Amazing, suspenseful flash fiction from:  Amanda’s Writing

6) Photography, flash fiction, poetry and a newly published book from:  Artifacts and Fictions

7)   I truly admire Maria’s creative versatility and her love of the outdoors. Check her out @ xxculture

Here are your questions (with 1 or 2 from the ones posed to me)

1)  What is one place in the world that you would like to visit?

2)  What is your favorite word?

3) What is your least favorite word?

4) If you were to meet someone famous (dead or alive), who would it be and why?

5)  What book have you read lately that you would recommend?

6) When was the first time you fell in love?

7)  What is your dream job?

8)  What job would you least like to do?

9) If you could eliminate one thing evil in this world, what would that be?

10) If you had to go to a deserted island for 3 months, what 5 things would you not be able to live without?

11) What is your favorite time of day and why?

Congratulations Nominees!

Vita da Sogno*

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Flash fiction24 Comments

photo credit: www.huffingtonpost.com

“Philomena! Philomena! Why are you wasting your time chasing a sogno irrealizzable?”  Her mama’s falsetto was grating on Philomena’s last nerve. Her passion-sketching, designing and stitching women’s fashion-went against her parent’s wishes to marry Arturo, the local cheese-maker. Her plans did not include an early marriage to a man who smelled of soured milk and curds day and night.

Paris-the city of high couture- was where here heart belonged. She ran to her room and grabbed her sketch pad, charcoals and blanket. She would hide away in the olive grove and create her newest ideas. Almost as an afterthought, she took some spare coins from her dresser. The cinema was debuting a new matinee today. She could not resist the films of Sophia Loren, Brigitte Bardott or Audrey Hepburn.; women of independence and classic, sensual styles.

Philomena raced down the stairs,  ignoring her mama’s obvious exasperation (her hands on her hips and her lips in a line). She was all of these women and more-her determination far outweighing the temptation to give in to cumbersome tradition.

*dream life

Once again it is Free Write Friday via Kellie Elmore!  I wrote this while at the doctor’s office today. Feeling under the weather-kidney infection! But no matter. Imagination won over discomfort!

Here’s the link:

#FWF Free Write Friday: Word Bank

by Kellie Elmore

This week’s FWF prompt is a word bank:

blanket – falsetto – cumbersome – cinema – coins

Inspection

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Flash fiction5 Comments

https://i0.wp.com/www.skin-retreat.com/sites/default/files/shutterstock_57450139sml_0.jpg

Photo credit: www.skin-retreat.com

Lola was drowning. Choking. Spitting. A bucket of frigid water had been dumped on her from an opening in the shed’s roof.  Her wounds stung and her body shivered with the shock. “Breathe Deep and Stay Strong,” she told herself. Abruptly, the door flew open and two men untied her and pulled her up. She was wrapped in a white sheet blindfolded and gagged. Then the cocking of a 12 gauge. She knew that sound. As a child, she had been trained in weaponry for use in protection and hunting. Now, 20 years old and a trained Scout, she carried a  9 mm in her backpack. Lot of good it did now. The pack was somewhere in that cornfield. Lola was angry with herself for falling asleep. She hoped the pack and all its supplies would remain hidden until she developed her escape plan.

“Too bad we can’t touch her.” It was the voice of the Rifleman talking. “Yep. I bet she’d be mighty fine.” Another voice with another gun. “But you know them rules. If we ever get caught, we’d be dead on the spot. Remember what happened to Wayne.”

Unable to walk because of the sheet, the men placed her on a gurney and carried her out of the shed. Lola felt the cool air on her face. Must be late afternoon by now, she thought.The men were gruff in their movements as the path became rougher. Lola listened hard to the sounds around her. Nothing but birds. She could feel their presence along the route. No crows or vultures. The sing-song of the cardinal and the mournful coos of a dove. Oddly soothing.

“HALT!” They stopped with a lurch that nearly toppled Lola off the stretcher.The voice was commanding. “Bring her to the Intake Suite.  She needs further preparation before a final decision is made.” The route took a turn downhill. Lola was replaying the route in her mind.  Previous information from other Scouts had never mentioned an Intake Suite.

Before long, Lola heard a sliding wooshing sound as if two doors were opening automatically. She felt as if they stepped into a sterile hospital setting; she could almost feel the smoothness of the linoleum floor even if her feet weren’t touching the ground. She could see the glare of the florescent lights through the cloth that covered her eyes. Then another Woosh. Another opening and finally a room.

She was placed on a table and  they removed the blindfold from her eyes but left her gagged and wrapped. Woosh. Woosh.  “Thank you, gentleman.” The voice was melodious for a man.  “You’ve earned some time off for this catch. Tell Merle to make sure you get two days at the Saddle Club.”

The Rifleman and his companion left without a word. “Now let’s take care of the rest of you, my dear. But you cannot speak. Otherwise, I will see fit to punish you.” The sheet and cloth were taken from her body in one fell swoop. “Aah. So beautiful. Stand up and turn around.” Lola obeyed. As she turned herself, she took in the room. Sparse. One large comfortable chair at the end of the room and the table. She wouldn’t be here long. She knew that much.

“The Team will have to take special care of you. Your beauty is one of a kind. Worthy of special status. We will need to save you for just one man alone. But the Master will have the final word.”

The Master. Supreme Leader of the Restoration Party. Father of twelve sons from two wives. Believer in the fruitful multiplication of the party. Lola had a feeling she would be ripe for the picking.