poetry community

Monica

Bruised

Today was not too bad.  Good thing I stayed busy at work.  Was the exact day that our Beloved one departed from us.  The year seemed to go by so quickly but yet was so difficult for us all.  I want to thank each and every person out there that shared in our grief and supported us.  The journey of healing is not over but it does get easier.  As a part of the healing process, I often turned to writing.  I hope that this poem is received as being straight from the heart and encourages someone to move forward despite the grief.

 

BRUISED  by Monica Terry

20/7/2020

Dark scarlet resulted as capillaries burst underneath brown, supple skin as a result of the initial impact of the horrific injury. As the words, “Hu Neftar” departed from his lips I began to replay my life’s history.  What? Within 24 hours I need to come up with an obiturary?

Blue and purple brilliantly emerged with the tenderness of the skin that received blood into surrounding tissues as we stood and looked at the body before the funeral.  Reality setting in, nociceptors delayed sending a proper signal that was computable.  Stop!  Aren’t there loopholes in the CNS for situations so Immutable?

Pale green didn’t want to show itself so quickly, because that would mean time marching on without him here; as birthdays, Bar Mitzvahs, graduations occur and we all try to persevere.  Is time speeding up?  Maybe he knew the end was very near.  I would like to think that when he was brought back that he said, “Peace out Ya’ll, keep faith, nothing to fear”.

Yellow-brown introduces a new reality as old hemoglobin is absorbed and we make an attempt not to show the discoloration.  The fear that the old and new friends when we speak of him may think it’s an unhealthy fixation.  Really?  And I ask that with a bit of indignation.

Eventually, I know without a doubt that a Pure brown will emerge again, and perhaps other bruises will appear to join the colorful array on our skin; each one’s dermis displaying what phase we are currently in.  It’s bruises that make us who we are so we rise to win……time…. time….and time again.

 

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Photo credit:  Lifeat139a

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Monica

Do You Love Me?

A repost that I was amazed was still so timely!  A short poem from yours truly illustrating how in my imagination the Father may define LOVE as it pertains to His relationship with us. Do you love me enough toR…

Source: Do You #Love Me?”

Monica

Still Wasn’t Enough

A personification poem by Monica Terry

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I remember being awakened on a warm Summer’s Eve to soft strokes at the foot of my Mountain Kilimanjaro and whispers at the banks of my Niger, Nile  and Zambezi Rivers.

The voices and the movements were unfamiliar to me.  This was another people.  Something different about the way they touched me and spoke about me.  I heard them speaking about how they would  pry out of me my precious minerals and jewels.

Who were these?  They did not belong to me.  They were not the ones that had taken care of me for centuries nor had an understanding of what I gave back to them in return.

As time went on, their softness turned to harshness as they touched  me; it went from caressing to groping at my mountains for my precious minerals, platinum, uranium and iron.  They bore so deep, ripping from me the gold and ravaging at my rich soil in search of my rich black oil.  Often I would smell the alcohol on their breath.

I wanted to yell STOP! But instead I tried to violently react with a sudden volcanic eruption that sent the newcomers scattering for safe ground.  But after the ash settled, they still came back.  It still wasn’t enough to make them leave.

I tried to deprive them various times of water with my occasional droughts, for I knew those that took care of me would know what to do. They could survive and adapt unlike the newcomers.  But it still wasn’t enough to make them leave.  Greed will make one madly blind.

They produced mining industries and forcibly took my beautiful diamonds, selling them to the highest bidders and forcing those that took care of me to grope and hack away in filthy conditions at gun point until they dropped dead.  100 million carats, and still…it wasn’t enough for them to leave.

Eventually the ones that took care of me began to disappear.  Many times, I saw them carted off in ships.  The times I dared to watch their fate, I saw them looking at me as if for the last time.  I mourned with them, for now my fate awaited me to be plundered all alone by the rapists with grubby hands.

After such disparity in socio-economic status, the ones that were left began to be indifferent to me.  They had been hardened and turned cold by the criminality of my stolen wealth.  My borders no longer provided them with what they needed…..protection.  They have tried in the past to revive my damaged areas, but the newcomers killed them.

The newcomers even divided me up into pieces and shared me with others that lust for my riches.  Once my rivers flowed freely from north to south and my mountains and valleys could be inhabited with no care or disputes.  There was even blood shed on my soil that I sorrowfully soaked up.  And it still was not enough to make it stop.

But now a new day has come.  I see the seeds of the ones that were kidnapped and taken away from me and they are strong.  They are fiercely growing into seedlings that sprout bigger into hardened trees with resilient bark.  They are saying NO MORE to my rape and my exploitation!  They are saying ENOUGH!

They are being heard all over the world, crying out for me, for them, for the wrongs that have been done to be addressed.  I see hope of my people returning to take care of me as in centuries past, and I will once again be a shelter for them.

I see that I need not be ashamed for being forced upon and defiled, for I was a victim of unthinkable crimes against me and my caretakers.  And finally, I am not alone in saying “ENOUGH”!

Monica

What Are You G For?

G

 Greatness of His presence

R

Righteously judging between men

A

Awesome, His unconditional love

T

Tremendous forgiving of sin

I

Inspirational story of a People

T

Treasures of rain not fame

U

Unity of His he delights in

D

Deliverance makes end to pain

E

Everlasting GRATITUDE for His blessings, Cup seen as half full,

Positive mindset a must, Avoid negativity’s rule

 

Monica

Wanted, Long-term Workers

Job Description & Benefits:

Wanted, enthusiastic workers, immediately for hire,

Maximum job security, very few ever choose to retire

May require some travel to many extraordinary places

Pays in dividends such as smiles, hugs, and happy satisfied faces

Often as your clients age the job challenges may intensify

But not to worry, take blows to the chin, on the Father you can rely

Don’t be surprised that if in time clients take on your looks and ways

For job success, correct them when needed, but ALWAYS save room for praise

No experience required, make mental notes and train along the way

There’s no manual, so share your gained wisdom with co-workers without delay

You see this job has a huge network, we encourage reaching out to your peers

However, the measure of success may not be seen for many long & grueling years

The organizational chart is made of fathers, sisters, aunts, uncles and brothers

Bypass the glass ceiling by taking the wisdom of grandfathers and grandmothers

This job is of great importance, NO, not president,  scientist or actor on a sitcom 

For with gratitude I’ve had the pleasure of being blessed to serve in this job called “MOM”

I thank our Heavenly Father every day that I haven’t had to do it alone

For to raise a child with support from a village propels him to achieve every milestone

villagetoraisechildBig thanks to all of the parents, grandparents and extended family as well as friends that take part daily to make a positive impact in support of the children, our future.  Keep your head up and know that we all make a difference.  One love Ya’ll!👪❤💕

As always, why not SHARE IT🔗🙌, LIKE👍,  REPOST♻, COMMENT💬, and YES, SUBSCRIBE 👏by clicking Follow? Thanks so much for dropping by!

Monica

Garden Whisper

This poem and mood was inspired by my modest window garden.  I truly miss planting in the earth and having a big back yard, however, sometimes you have to stir what you got!  Be grateful in all that the Most High gives and He will increase what you have beyond your dreams.  Such order in nature and as I observe the growth of my tomato and melon plants, avocado, lemon and pomegranate trees, although small, I get a sense of calm as I care for them and watch the progress made from week to week.  Did you know that since the mid 80’s hospitals began to take advantage of the calming effect received by patients who suffer from pain and anxiety.  These are huge sources of stress that damage our immune systems.  So, test this theory out on a stressful day and take a stroll through a garden.  Even consider starting your own.  Even a window garden like mine can be beneficial.  Isn’t your health worth it?

Monica

Glass Box

The girl sat alone in her own glass box

Observing others in theirs

Her box labled Dancer

Another’s marked Teacher

The next, Doctor…and an endless line of labeled boxes followed

A voice called out and asked,

“What are you?”

The girl nervously replied, “I guess I’m a dancer, that’s what the label says”

“Come out, my child”, the calm, still voice softly commanded

“Can I?…. should I?” said the timid girl. “But what will people think?”

And the voice said, “Let me worry about that and just be what I created you to be.”

As she slowly opened the door, still a bit intimidated, she took one step out of the glass

With the next step, she noticed her neighbor’s glass door opening

Before she knew it, others were doing the same

They felt free for the first time to become who they were

Free of labels and endless possibilities

Monica

Love Dance

This narrative tells the story of two lovers through my eyes as a dancer and admirer of music, particularly 90’s R&B.  I hope you enjoy and feedback as well as constructive criticism is always welcome!

So young in the beginning, she politely accepted his hand as he asked her to dance.  As he led her to the dance floor, she thought, “I’m not his type”.  The music was so soft but yet alluring.  Something different about him, she thought.  His confidence made her head twirl and her imagination tip toed into the future, a soft bourree’ into places in her mind she would not dare share with anyone, for certain not him.  Would she dare dream that he is the ONE?

The music sped up and became a bit louder as the song transitioned into a conscious hip hop beat, making the young couples’ hearts saute with delight, and as the tempo slowed into “Baby I’m Yours” by Shai, they realized they were drawn in very closely by an irresistible force, into a lover’s embrace. Her head finding a niche to rest on his chest as she studied his heartbeat. She liked that rhythm.  All others on the dance floor faded away into faceless characters as the two held each other as if already a pair, both silently hoping that the DJ would play another song like this one.  I need more time, he thought.  But she went with the rhythm of the new song and encouraged him to do the same as she flirted with him through the movement of her hips, although subtle and a bit shy and unassured.  She didn’t want to be hurt again.  Could she be the ONE, he thought?

Continue reading

Monica

What’s My Motivation?

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Woke up this morning, feeling relieved to see another day, but mind resisting the waves of tasks that come in to invade and away,  then suddenly comes that recurring flood that I call…..Sunday.

Body tired cause once again thought I could cheat my circadian rhythm, into thinking I could only sleep five hours, battle of the mind, brain schism, right versus left brain then back to realism.

Just the adversary trying to get me to doubt my ability that the Almighty Father has instilled in me to aid in the execution of each and every task with precision and agility.

“So what’s my motivation” I thought to myself.

Could it be that my children need me to get out of this warm & cozy bed?  Not ready yet, doubts swirling, body aches, brain dead; in creeps a still voice whispering, “Fear not, don’t dread!”

So I choose to listen to it instead

Maybe it’s my morning prayers that beg to be recited, that give me wisdom to conquer spiritual battles, and if failed could leave me over-excited and yes, ……even indicted

Then I put into the forefront of my mind that those that came to be at some time or were born blind, would gladly wake up eager to not only read,  but be extremely inclined To engulf the beauty around them that we so often think…….. “never mind”

What’s my motivation?

Do I get up today for that 9 to 5 that’s mos def not in the 5 year plan to keep us alive, not to mention help our children to propel forward and thrive

Then, yet again, that still voice said, “Rise and see what marvelous things await you today

Let Me worry about the tasks, the problems and your pay.  Each time you awake, see it as a present or even a bouquet.

From Me my child

It’s up to us to figure out how to use that present in order to be of service to Him

and a blessing to others just like the bouquet of flowers, petals and stem

He is my perpetual motivation, for without Him, I surely would cease to exist

The still voice has and always will be my Creator urging me to persist

Thank you Heavenly Father for your mercy, this gift, and the bouquet

and all of the many blessings from the past and future ones you are sending my way

Monica

Perception

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When you look at the picture, what do you see?  

Am I smiling, sad, or just wearing a pleasant expression that tells the world a summary of what I want to portray?  And how do you know what’s reality; is it just all for display?  If you had to summarize me, what would you say?

How can our perception of things be so very wrong? 

Sometimes it’s like judging a book by it’s cover as we so often quote.  Other times, it’s like the famous idiom, seeing your glass half empty instead of half full, a wise person wrote.  Like after reading this, what will be your perception of this anecdote?

See here is the thing, how we see others and a given situation can depend on our own state of mind.  What is truly reality can get tangled up and unfortunately intertwined and combined with our own experiences.  You may be thinking….so what!  But before you brush it all off as no big deal, think about how this affects the people who could have been in your life but you dismissed them as not “for real”; the reason why the world has become so cold and some of us can no longer feel…that empathy for one another.

Man, perception is a mutha!

Oh, and by the way, in that pic……I was smiling, it was a good day!

So next time you think negatively of your sister or brother, have a bit more compassion and don’t let negative perception prevent a relationship from going further.