I’m Not a Victim

I’m not a victim, unless it’s what I choose to be.
Tear out my eyes, so I can no longer see.
Sew up my heart, it’s broken and the pain is real.
But, I’m not a victim, unless I choose to feel.

I’m not a victim, unless my thoughts keep saying so.
Silence them with laughter, seeds that soon will grow.
Replace the tears of sadness with those made of joy.
Cause, I’m not a victim unless I’m just a part of their ploy.

I’m not a victim, unless society wants to say I am.
Media mind control makes sure you watch your nightly program.
Tries to convince you of what is right and what is not.
Yet, I’m not their victim cause I can’t be bought.

They can play their games, try to control your thoughts,
Leave you wondering whose calling the shots.
Remember, my friend, you’re not a victim , unless you choose to be.
Push them away, don’t let them see, you’re not their nominee.
You’re not their victim, unless you choose to be.

Take control, don’t forget.
Don’t be anyone’s marionette.


July 1973

Flashes here,
Now there.
It’s behind you.
Hot and sweaty,
But I have to find where you went.
Holding on tightly to your home.
If I drop it,
All will End.
Shattered on the ground.
Like dreams out of reach
On a far off summer night.
We’re only realizing it doesn’t matter.
Our lives will end soon.
Though holes are punched in the lid,
The air’s too stale to breathe.
Chase the flashing.
Before it’s too late.


Am I going to find a home when I turn the corner?

Am I going to find a family when I open the door?

My flaws are still present, are part of my personality,

ingrained in my make up but not an abnormality.

What’s normal, anyways? We make this up everyday.

I’m perfect, you’re not, is that how it should be?

Should we all wear a  label and then we’d agree?

This reality called life needs some rearranging, maybe we’d see

it’s our thoughts that really need changing.

Like a mythological monster, a story from the past,

carried too far the memory becomes recast.

To one that is far worse, legends become dark and diverse,

Yet, began a story, remember, a tale of yore. Now men teach it to children

in times of war.

Where’s my home when I turn the corner?

It’s gone with all the rhetoric.

It’s gone with the vitriol.

My family is divided, a civil war in the making.

Leave, if you may, alone I will be overtaking!

Past was filled with memories of battles fought exclusively.

Now they can be done foolishly or brutally!

You decide, since it’s your game to play.

Forewarned, my friend, you’ve now become my prey.


I don’t feel too bad today. It’s a good day to count my blessings, good expressing that all might not be well but what the Hell, it really doesn’t matter, it’s life or death that’ll grab you yeah…hot one, feel the sweat upon your face but a breeze’s still blowing and I’m left knowing what matters anyways. This time this place, here and now, cataclysmic entity, the up and down. Alcohol’s flowing while the world still spins, for all I know, we’re still friends till the end. Ice and mind melting in the heat of the day but your kind word unleashes and we all fly away. We all are one, time never stops, infinite limitless, deeper than the moral’s of Aesop. I’ll be seeing you, my friend, more times than not. On this hotter than hot summer day of THOUGHT.

30 Days of Creativity~Day 22


TODAY creates the one day that all others will follow.
Look to the left. Look to the right. Don’t forget behind you. Always behind you….they may be lurking behind you.

Dead body floating at the edge of the pier.
Missing since last night but nobody was aware
that you fell off the end in a moment spent being high.
So super high the sky was in reach
and the stars called your name and swung on the beach.

You answered them one by one and did a little dance with a fish that was striped and came from France.
Wore a top hat and carried a cane he walked around in circles and called out your name.
He spoke with an accent and I think it was insane.
Speaking words of warning about the herbal game.

Then he took your hand and spun you in a circle.
He asked to borrow money thinking you were Angie Merkel.
Musical notes appeared on the pier below your feet.
Tripping yellow tulips grew around named Pete.
Dancing to the music from another land.
Orchestral melodies that sounded so grand.

Ripples laid black in the water glistened
The moonlight bounced off tried to listen
Listened for the sound that all was foretold
She knew your agenda was to be so bold.
Fear was nothing written into your script as
you edged closer to the side. Will you slip?

Stars inched closer to bid farewell to a friend
they spoke nightly to as you danced  along the dock
imaginary partners, lovers in lock
Sharp stinging your eyesight, the stars became blurry
Cold slap to the face your breath inhaled hurried

Where is the crashing coming from?
The screams emitting? The echoes from all sides
your mind is submitting, the end is upon you as the
water closes around. Heaviness, sinking dragging you down. Confusion greets you then the stars sing to you.

Lightness lifts you higher and stars shine again.
My top-hatted French fish I see you again!!
I’ll dance on the boardwalk and walk among the flowers. But no one can hurt me I have magical powers.
They found you floating by the pier early that day.
You were forgotten by the end of the week. It was  election day.

I hope you all like this. This is my first attempt at creating a poem that I consider Lewis Carrollesque and I like it. It’s after 1:30 in the morning now and this new medication has given me insomnia. Maybe I should try to sleep again. Imagine the wonderful dreams I’ll have now. Oh goody!

30 Days of Creativity~Day 21

Photo: Courtesy of the British Migraine Association

Make the World Go Away

coldness creeps across my skin
my neck muscles tighten
pain lingers incessantly
another morning dawns too early
the light red across my eyelids
sunlight that I love dearly
turns my stomach today
migraine pain throbs my temples
can’t it be a bad dream

Bi-posting for the Bipolar or 30 Days of Creativity~ Day 18 Meets Day 1 of 30 Days of Thanks

Today I will attempt the impossible. Or, if after reading my blog you have time and by time I mean lots of time to kill, you could attempt the Impossible Quiz. ‘The Impossible Quiz’ is an entertaining annoying quiz game which I guarantee you will attempt to punish yourself over and over by trying to win. (If there is such a thing.)
I’m going to try to finish up my 30 Days of Creativity and start a new 30 day challenge at the same time. This one is 30 Days of Thanks. Wish me luck!!

Day 18—30 Days of Creativity

Who’s Watching Me

Who’s watching me
while I walk down the street
does anyone care
does anyone see

I used to believe
that everyone could see
every thought and emotion
that came from me

They could feel the tension
and knew my intentions
Wondered why I was there
what I wanted, did I mention?

Some smiled, even nodded,
but it didn’t matter
the panic was too great
the stares felt like they prodded

The world closed in
tightness crushed my skin
Judgement Day had arrived
And living was my sin

My peers had spoken
I didn’t belong
I could tell without words
all along

Stay away, don’t come out
You’re safer that way
No one’s opinion
Is important today

For I live in a new world
without any eyes
Traded it away
to silence my cries

Prisoner of life
but one of my choosing
I laugh at them now
Their world I’m refusing

Here, I’m accepted
for being who I am
fault-filled and broken
I am what I am.


Number 1 is an easy one for me. I give thanks for my children. If not for them I would have had two less reasons to want to live after Nick died. I look at them from a mother’s eyes and can say I did one thing right at least. Even through the ups and downs of parenting when I thought I’d go crazy. The years of homeschooling, which was fun but also made me want to go running and screaming out of my house, were all worth it. They are both well educated and attending college. There is so much to be thankful for.