Victim of love?

 “…and so will the world end, I think, a victim of love rather than hate. For love’s ever been the more destructive weapon, sure.” – Stephen King, The Dark Tower

deppography

Speak to me of love’s glories and I’ll show you the teeth of this wild thing. Love is used as a lever to control people and deliver them to the slaughter. I think of the lonely woman, in love with her man. He beats her, cusses her, rapes her, and demeans her at every turn, yet, because of love, she stays with him. I think of mean and nefarious men who hold a woman captive and force her compliance by threatening her family. Her love for her family is the means by which they control her. Men are not exempt from this cruel trick of nature. I’ve seen a man destroy his family, his career, and ultimately his life because he fell in “love” with another woman. I’ve seen the drug addicted lead many down the road to ruin by courting their love and then using them till they are reduced to only a crust of bread for dinner. I’ve seen children, holding their parents hostage by the same love shown them. When will it end? When will I see that love is evil in this way. It constrains me to act in harmful and completely unreasonable courses of action. It forces me to make choices that are in the end, all the worse things that could be done.


Here is the mistake Love is not the holy stamp of approval on my dealings with humanity. Love does not guarantee the success or validity of a relationship. I see the reality and necessity of love, but only as a by-product of a healthy relationship, not as the final goal. The relationship should not be ruled by this love, but give birth to it, then raise it in subjection. How should I act when faced with my “love”? Love needs a system of checks and balances. A spiritual check can help control my direction, whether this is a good choice or bad. A logic check is important as well. Seriously, can my love for an abuser, child molester, or addict be expressed best by exposing myself and my family to his/her aberrations? Love will choose the death of the loved one for the best of the whole. If I am held hostage, my wife being raped, my belongings pilfered, all under the threat of killing my children, I say, “Be damned! I’ll not let them ravage my life using that lever of love. If I give in and allow the pillaging of my life, what will be left for the children, or woman, or whoever is the object used to force my compliance? What is left is a broken and shattered form, unable to provide for the family in any way. This is what is left for love when it is used to violate: brokenness, shattered dreams, and an inability to provide. Let us, my friends, be careful to not let love lead us down these treacherous paths and check ourselves lest we be found as victims of love.
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The Violation of…

“… you don’t have to wait for someone to treat you bad repeatedly. All it takes is once, and if they get away with it that once, if they know they can treat you like that, then it sets the pattern for the future.” Jane Green, Bookends 

You shout at me, I try to ignore what you do
Your always there, I try to behave
You won’t let me be alone, I don’t want a shadow
You don’t let me talk, I’m too loud
You will
never give up, I try to run
You make me afraid, I make excuses
You intimidate my friends, I try to explain
You hide and peek at me, I can’t know where you are
You intrude on my privacy, I just want to be alone
You threaten my existence, I just want to be safe
You make me do things, I’m embarrassed to say
You sink lower in your life, I watch you fall
You struggle to bring me down, I struggle to breathe
You will not win, I’ll survive

You will not change me, I’ll be hard
You will not violate me again, I will kill

Also Published in Broowaha
12152010

Slamming Doors – The sound of violence

“A door slamming makes one jump, but
it doesn’t make one afraid. What one fears
is the serpent that crawls underneath it.” – Collete

“Starting when I was a kid barely four,

I knew the beating was coming

by the sound of a slamming door


Picking myself up from off the cold floor

His bruises held my mind in fear

by the sound of a slamming door


Older now and wiser but still my soul abhors

the awful things that come and anger shown

by the sound of a slamming door”
 – DMW



How can I describe the feeling I get when a door slams? Hundreds of heartbreaking moments all carry that signature. I can tell when lives carry the heat of anger by the condition of the doors. Splintered frames, stripped hinges, door knobs shattered with pieces strewn around the room, the bottom of the door scraping the floor. I’ve locked doors, only to see them broken down by a significant other – be it a drunk father, jealous girlfriend, or some random hell bent soul. The sound impacts me psychologically now. It initiates a vigilance and tense anticipation of impending doom. It makes me mad, really mad, like a rage that crawls over me with it’s claws out. There are doors inside my heart as well. You can’t hear them but I do. Women slam them when they betray me, kids slam them when they reject me, and men slam them when they threaten me. I can’t turn off the feelings quick enough when I’m energized by the sound of the slamming doors. I long to live in peace, and right now, I feel real peaceful but wait, did you hear that? Nooooooooo!!!

Related Post: The Tub

Slamming Doors – The sound of violence

“A door slamming makes one jump, but
it doesn’t make one afraid. What one fears
is the serpent that crawls underneath it.” – Collete

“Starting when I was a kid barely four,

I knew the beating was coming

by the sound of a slamming door


Picking myself up from off the cold floor

His bruises held my mind in fear

by the sound of a slamming door


Older now and wiser but still my soul abhors

the awful things that come and anger shown

by the sound of a slamming door”
 – DMW



How can I describe the feeling I get when a door slams? Hundreds of heartbreaking moments all carry that signature. I can tell when lives carry the heat of anger by the condition of the doors. Splintered frames, stripped hinges, door knobs shattered with pieces strewn around the room, the bottom of the door scraping the floor. I’ve locked doors, only to see them broken down by a significant other – be it a drunk father, jealous girlfriend, or some random hell bent soul. The sound impacts me psychologically now. It initiates a vigilance and tense anticipation of impending doom. It makes me mad, really mad, like a rage that crawls over me with it’s claws out. There are doors inside my heart as well. You can’t hear them but I do. Women slam them when they betray me, kids slam them when they reject me, and men slam them when they threaten me. I can’t turn off the feelings quick enough when I’m energized by the sound of the slamming doors. I long to live in peace, and right now, I feel real peaceful but wait, did you hear that? Nooooooooo!!!

Related Post: The Tub

I Thought, I Became

“as a man thinks in his heart, so is he” – Proverbs 23:7
“I think and think and think, I‘ve thought myself out of happiness one million times, but never once into it.” Jonathan Safran Foer 
 
google

I’ve heard the negative, dark words spoken in blind anger
from family, lovers, friends, and enemies.
Now, I can’t get them out of my mind.
They linger like stingers, long after the offender is gone
I feel the effects, no matter how I try
to think that it’s not possible to actually be
what they said.
Self esteem takes the hit, crumpling under the blow.
I take hold of myself and stand again
It’s only what I believe that will affect me.
I will not listen to those heavy things,
weighing me down.
Casting off the weight, throwing it behind me
I can stand, I can be whole
full and strong, standing again
in the face of life’s headwind

I am not what they say, I am what I believe.


110411

I Thought, I Became

“as a man thinks in his heart, so is he” – Proverbs 23:7
“I think and think and think, I‘ve thought myself out of happiness one million times, but never once into it.” Jonathan Safran Foer 
 
google

I’ve heard the negative, dark words spoken in blind anger
from family, lovers, friends, and enemies.
Now, I can’t get them out of my mind.
They linger like stingers, long after the offender is gone
I feel the effects, no matter how I try
to think that it’s not possible to actually be
what they said.
Self esteem takes the hit, crumpling under the blow.
I take hold of myself and stand again
It’s only what I believe that will affect me.
I will not listen to those heavy things,
weighing me down.
Casting off the weight, throwing it behind me
I can stand, I can be whole
full and strong, standing again
in the face of life’s headwind

I am not what they say, I am what I believe.


110411

The Way – Nightmares from childhood

“Awake, arise or be for ever fall’n.” – John Milton, Paradise Lost
 
DMW Sager

Stop! But they wouldn’t.

Let go! But they didn’t.
No! But they said, “Yes we will“.
Help! But they are deaf.
Go Away! But they lingered on.

And so went the nightmare called childhood till the day he found the Way. With strength not his own, wisdom above him, and boldness, the Way erased his fears.

Stop! They jumped back in amazement.
Let go! They released and ran.
No! They stood with shocked mouths open.
Help! His God answered with strong support.
Go away! They never could come back again.

Sweet victory when fear dies
                                                      

11042011