Freedom from Everything I Never Told You – M.A. Morris

M.A. Morris – Things untold, unbelieved

Brave & Reckless

Believe me,
You don’t want to know
Everything I never told you.
No, you don’t want to know.
You’d never admit to it all anyway.
How you slowly drove me a little insane.
A little gaslight there. A little gaslight here.
A bit of manipulation and a little playing with words.
The metronome of your words—

I’ve always liked this
I’ve always liked that
Are you happy?
Are you happy with me?
Are you happy?
Are you happy with me?
Why don’t you act happy?
Why don’t you smile?
Why don’t you act happy?
Why don’t you smile?

Then you listed all the reasons for my unhappiness
And none concerned you or
You and me together or
All the reasons why I walked on eggshells
Around your daily prescribed as needed
Questions about my happiness,
My happiness with you, why I didn’t smile like a fool
Every single time I…

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All The Things We Didn’t Know – Robert G. Wertzler

My take on the prompt, All The Things We Never Knew

Brave & Reckless

“What you don’t know can’t hurt you.”
OH! REALLY?
What a crock that is.
All those things we never knew
Till we did know them
Like Lego blocks waiting
Plotting ambush for naked feet
In a darkened room
Or worse, far worse
We never knew true grief
We never knew heartbreak
We never knew depression
We never knew dread
We never knew hopelessness
Until we did
Until they came unbidden
Until they came unexpected
Found us unprepared
Found us undefended
Found us naked and vulnerable
Then we knew


Bob Wertzler is retired from almost twenty years in the mental health field in California and Arizona. There are times the title, “Recovering Therapist”, seems to fit. In 2006 he retired to move to Western North Carolina to help and become primary care giver for his father who had developed Dementia. Before all that, there was work at various times as a…

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She’s Come Undone – Georgiann Carlson

Georgiann Carlson – Undone – Redone

Brave & Reckless

whenever life becomes
too much
too boring
too dull
too aggravating
too sweet
she starts to come undone
bits of her break off
and she begins to disappear
she said fading away
gives her time to
breath
and think
when she’s ready to return
she just puts herself
back together again
she said it’s refreshing
like taking a quick nap


I’m an artist, a writer, a vegetarian, an animal rights activist, and quite a few other things as well. I love books, cats, philosophy, good conversation, Chicago and the arts. So my blog is full of bits and pieces but it’s the bits and pieces that make life interesting to me. You can read more of my writing at Rethinking Life

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The F Word

HLR – Last Mandatory Session

hijacked amygdala

“What are you afraid of?” she asks, pen poised over the page of her notebook that is otherwise blank apart from my name and date of birth written at the top.

“Nothing,” I say, “I am fearless.”

“Come on now, everyone’s scared of something…”

I roll my eyes.

“Well, the thing that I was most scared of has happened. And it can’t happen again. So it’s all good,” I say, sticking both thumbs up.

“And that was…?”

“My dad dying.”

She says nothing, just stares at me. She wants me to elaborate but I don’t think she deserves to hear about my father. She has done nothing to earn it. She writes DAD DEAD in capital letters under my name and draws a circle around it twice.

“How has your mood been lately?”

“As it’s always been: oscillating wildly between extremes with no warning or explanation, no pattern or logic…

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Give the Gift of Poetry

Christune Ray, Indie Blu(e), pop up shop in Philly

Brave & Reckless

Are you spending Thanksgiving weekend in the Philadelphia area?  Stop by and meet me at the Pop-Up Shop for Small Business Saturday.

I will have all the fabulous current Indie Blu(e) Publishing titles with me at ArtSpace Lansdowne on Saturday, November from 11 am to 6 pm.  I will be signing copies of Composition of a Woman, The Myths of Girlhood, We Will Not Be Silenced, and SMITTEN.

I would love to see you there!

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Encroachment

TheFeatherdSleep – Outsight – Insight

TheFeatheredSleep

You saw your disintegration

In the shrouded reflection of a store window

Already losing custom

And for years prior

Women adjusted hose and children’s grubby faces wiped

In that smeared glass

It held

Decades

Like high cheekbones

Will shore up time in a beautiful face

I saw my eyes fail me

In the encroachment

Of some uninvited color

As if the sun

Greedy for attention

Had left a permanent marker
The doctor

With his accentless voice

And starched finger tips

Probing my retina

For answers like a tarot card reader

Will shuffle and cut her deck

Declared me blemished

Stained by time

Imperfect

Possibly going blind, wrapped in news print

And I laughed

The same laugh my grandma had

When terrible news was delivered

Along with cold dishes and

Empty seats where once our ancestors sat

Filling the roost of our quaking bones

Marking time and Advent

She would raise…

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Gratitude

Cluster B is grateful

CLUSTER B

It’s Thanksgiving Day again so let me pinkrosecount my blessings.

I am grateful for my psychopathy. I thank my sacred Self for the freedom of my mind.

I thank my parents for my DNA. To my bother for bearing me.

vicki

I thank my soulmate for constantly sharing our rocky ups and downs.

My friends who make it worth while.

My enemies who keep me strong and focused.

My Purity who knows who she is.

Pain.

Pleasure.

Joy.

Radiance.

Bernie Sanders, our next President.

greenpublichousingAlexandria Ocasio-Cortez

squad The Squad

Naomi Klein

greta Greta Thunberg

plant Plant

Sparkie

HP

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Thursday photo prompt: Light #writephoto

Jan Malique – Light Rising

Strange Goings On In The Shed

snowy-dawn-ivinhoe-and-ashridge-111 Image: Sue Vincent

My offering for Sues’s Thursday photo prompt. 

Light brings with it Hope during the darkness, of Winter and the Dark Night of the Soul. There are forces of Nature and powers therein that bring with them dissolution and regeneration. One such being moves through the great forest at the edge of the world. An ice and snowbound world that contains, well, silence. 

A silence all embracing and infinite as he moves through the great forest. The staff in his hand is surmounted by a flame so bright it cuts through the gloom like a sword. Wisps of the darkness fall like dying gasps of a world enshrouded by mist and ice.

The great forest holds its breath, for it knows what is to come. Hope comes in many forms, often clothed in unbearable beauty. It is the powdery snow overlaid by ruby red droplets, of a…

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