A Death Called Dove

“What a short time I had been given to experience love. I felt as my life had only recently begun and now it would surely end at sunrise.”
Meredith Taylor
sweetesttootsieroll
Found then a little dove cowering in the birth of new
A blade came near and scant to miss
only a hairs breath relinquishing bliss
Flying before her time with wind both a friend and foe
Thinking to see, her wings grow tired
Blind fear rushes never more inspired
A shy grasp at what becomes a mysterious fateful lore
Trying but giving away the hidden life
Reduced to nothing and shut in by strife
Again the hungry clock stood its watch over gentle dove
Only to alight were she would never to fly
Wings fail to carry her to comforting sky
Talented feathery quills of reaching passion stoned to silence
Will giving her gifts to the clouds that call
Only create little pieces in the memory of all
Just dreams of doves laying torn in dawns fading embrace
O fragile dove you’ll ne’er see forever pain

Walking in silence ’cause your wings are maimed

Also published in Broowaha Citizen’s Magazine

My Name Is Not Pain –

“If people refuse to look at you in a new light and they can only see you for what you were, only see you for the mistakes you’ve made, if they don’t realize that you are not your mistakes, then they have to go.”
Someone
When as a child with innocent ears
I heard my name with violent tears
Then known as a child abused
My name whispered one being used
Older and with children of mine
My name was called all the time
Years went by and then I left home
My name became as one unknown
Later in life the blooming occurred
A name of mine was an addiction slur
An old man now an ancient in days
My name is what I make it say
In a bold unwavering voice I pray
My name will never again be pain

*

First published in Opinionsofeye.com

02152013

It’s Not About Me – Depersonalizing Offense

“It is wise to direct your anger towards problems — not people; to focus your energies on answers — not excuses.” – William Arthur Ward
“How much more grievous are the consequences of anger than the causes of it.” 

cemetaryhill
What does it take to drive the anger and hate from my heart? These things come to life in me when I see or experience pain and injustice. Life offers a great helping of suffering that can ruin me if I keep it inside and take it personal. Not every experience has to do with me, people are who they are, regardless of who they interact with. If I respond to them from the point of view that it’s ME, then I respond with self-criticism, hate, and anger. These situations are likely not about me, they are, however, showing me a weakness in my character that is there regardless of the offense or offender. I understand when they hurt me, their behavior exists apart from me, it happens regardless of my presence in the matter. By putting aside the personalization of these offenses, I am able to respond to that situation with the attitudes that set me apart from anger and hate. These attitudes include patience, giving good in return for bad, and living in a continuing joy that exists regardless of favorable circumstances. Seeing these, the offender will likely suffer more at seeing my success and happiness than if I continued to validate their actions by responding with the only thing they know: more anger, more confrontation, more violence, and more hate. There is time and a place for confrontation, even for violent retribution, but for now, I’ll take that punch on the chin, turn and smile, and live my life to its fullest. What does it take to drive the anger and hate from my heart? To never take personal the stupidity and selfish actions of others and to respond, not in kind but, with the best revenge, a life well lived.

It’s Not About Me – Depersonalizing Offense

“It is wise to direct your anger towards problems — not people; to focus your energies on answers — not excuses.” – William Arthur Ward
“How much more grievous are the consequences of anger than the causes of it.” 

cemetaryhill
What does it take to drive the anger and hate from my heart? These things come to life in me when I see or experience pain and injustice. Life offers a great helping of suffering that can ruin me if I keep it inside and take it personal. Not every experience has to do with me, people are who they are, regardless of who they interact with. If I respond to them from the point of view that it’s ME, then I respond with self-criticism, hate, and anger. These situations are likely not about me, they are, however, showing me a weakness in my character that is there regardless of the offense or offender. I understand when they hurt me, their behavior exists apart from me, it happens regardless of my presence in the matter. By putting aside the personalization of these offenses, I am able to respond to that situation with the attitudes that set me apart from anger and hate. These attitudes include patience, giving good in return for bad, and living in a continuing joy that exists regardless of favorable circumstances. Seeing these, the offender will likely suffer more at seeing my success and happiness than if I continued to validate their actions by responding with the only thing they know: more anger, more confrontation, more violence, and more hate. There is time and a place for confrontation, even for violent retribution, but for now, I’ll take that punch on the chin, turn and smile, and live my life to its fullest. What does it take to drive the anger and hate from my heart? To never take personal the stupidity and selfish actions of others and to respond, not in kind but, with the best revenge, a life well lived.

The Waiting Vengeance

“Some justice, though did not deal with kindheartedness or good feeling toward others. No, justice had a darker side, a gray area where it mingled alongside vengeance, and only the wise and pure of heart were able to tell the two apart. That kind of justice was swift. It was only called upon after mercy and morals fail. It was the darkest form of goodness known to anyone, even the gods, and required only the strongest, most daring men to bring about.” ― Evan Meekins, The Black Banner
theextravagantbum
The problem is when I’m hurt, especially publicly hurt, there is pressure, both inside and out to exact revenge and “take care of your business”, and generally, the quicker, the better. To the regular guy, this is real, but to those whose mental condition, or whose social position, puts them at more precarious odds with vengeance, it is crucial to examine the actions considered before acting them out. It is expected by both violent subcultures and societal inputs, movies and books, that with great aggression and extreme guile a man should strike back at that evil which caused the hurt. To not strike back causes a loss of credibility within those cultures as well as a strike against the ego. The names that are given to those who do not strike back with the same or more violence than what is done to them, are not pleasant nor easy to bear. But wait! There is an element in warfare that waiting is part of the plan. It indicates wisdom and provides opportunity for an element of surprise to those who refuse to be provoked by the poking and prodding of careless violent predators. If I am easily provoked, then I am easily controlled. To ruin me only requires irritation, and the rest I’ll do on my own. There is a time and a place, to hold back a temper, put that gun down, knowing that the triggers of violence are controlled by the one waiting. More can be served by waiting and letting the violators of my life turn on themselves than by acting on an out of control violent spree that may end up hurting people other than the intended perpetrator(s), and may hurt the vigilante by the confinement of jail, institutions, or death, or the burden of never being able to speak of that which is done. There is a better way than to be violent immediately. Know myself, then my enemy. Hold my peace, the opportunity will come. When my defense is sure, then my victory is absolute.

A Hiding Place – Notes on fear and safety

“There are no ‘if’s’ in God’s world. And no places that are safer than other places. The center of His will is our only safety – let us pray that we may always know it!”
Corrie ten Boom, The Hiding Place
Image Credit: 2sad-eyes

Safety is a relative term, as I can feel safe in places others can’t. The reverse is true as well, there are common things that cause me to feel threatened. Losing the feeling of safety is one of the effects of being the victim of a violent crime, especially a sexual assault. I despise this fear, and long for safety. Knowing better than to place my trust in a relationship, a group, a law, or even my own devices, I find that there is only one place I am completely sheltered, in the arms of my Father. When I am spending time with Him, He protects me and holds me, comforting me in my fears. There the feeling of safety is irrelevant, for in that moment I am truly safe. Who can touch me when His strong arms wrap my soul in warmth and his unending love comforts my conspiracies laden mind? Feelings of being safe will come if I discipline myself stay in that place where no man and no obscure terror can prevail. In that place I will sleep and laugh at the derision of men.

Also published in Broowaha Magazine 

02242012

A Whispered Confession – Exasperation of temptation

A friend called the other day, confiding in me some very deep thoughts. I thought I would share them with you, point blank, and in the first person. Here is his voice…
argwengernak
A soul is born with certain, shall we say, tendencies. Some good, some bad, but it behooves us to know which way our inner man leans. Myself, I lean toward dark and violent. That’s all I was exposed to growing up. Love, acceptance, belonging, and positive thoughts were not part of my environment. My sails are now set, with this nurture of darkness, to be driven on seas were men ought not find themselves. My struggle forever set to battle not against ordinary tendencies, but against hugely deviant and depraved paths. 

In my adventures I’ve come across souls such as myself, they brought me huge pleasure as I saw the wake they made through their blackened seas. I conferred with one, telling him how I admired the fear he inspired in any crowd. He looked at me with forlorn eyes, “I wish to be like you” he confided. Tired of being feared, tired of being constrained by the course his sails set him on, he wished to be compassionate and feel, to engage normally with strangers and innocents. But, he said, telling me the way to path I wished, “if you wish to be like me, you only need touch the hate in your heart. You can be the baddest, if you hate.” At that time, I denied and refused my hate, my whole being swallowed up in the religious pretense of love. I knew what I was destined to be, but I hid it in the grand facade of religion. His words stuck with me. Now, I have a contradiction raging in me. I should be, an abuser, a murderer, a violent and unmerciful man engaged in many other criminal activities. But, I encountered God. I embraced Him out of fear of my path. Still I hold on to his hand, knowing what I can be, what I was supposed to be. Swinging way past center, I find myself soft, and complacent, letting people go when they should be punished and resisted.

This is where I find myself, the hate rising, demanding my attention, telling me to act according to my destiny, but, God stops me, guiding me in a different way. I am so tired of the battle. Tired because people don’t quit, they keep pushing, disrespecting, and teasing, mocking me. The expression, “going postal”, bears relevance. There are persons in society who finally snap. They seem mellow, gentle, placid and weak. Then, they flip the script and kill. Kill many, kill few, but kill nonetheless. Everyone shakes their head in disbelief. How can this happen? I know how this can happen, it happens in me every day. Having not killed, not pillaged, does that make me weaker? Or stronger? Having resisted those impulses and being kind and forgiving, where does that leave me? 

This argument is moot at this point. My breaking point is near. I can stand no more insults to my manhood. No more disrespect to my humanity. No more glaring down the nose, daring me to act looks. I’m shoved, and it builds. I’m ripped off and it builds. What they don’t understand is, is, that, I am nothing like how I look, how I have made myself appear. I am evil, violent, malevolent, and disgusting. How much more Lord, will you make me bear before I come apart. I can stand no more. Be prepared you sly cons who think you have me pegged. Something evil this way lurks.