Death · Everyday Life · Religion · Travel

My Dear Goliath 7/6/2018

Somewhere out there waiting

my Goliath stands,

a titan among men,

blinded by his strength

cursed by his own size

 

so high on his mountain

he can not see the truth

of the world around him

the glare from blooded loot

 

so fat from his treasures

he can not hear the screams

of those his might has crushed

stolen or demeaned

 

and though I may die

or even god forbid,

 

grow giant just like them.

 

right now I am breathing

right now I am being

happily collecting rocks

 

no it isn’t steel

nor mighty bars alike

just pebbles, hopes, and dreams

on the slings of all my might

 

for the blind can not see

the fat will not hear

the titanic never feel

 

and by the gods,

some curse or gift,

I do rightly feel

 

and oh, those dear Goliaths

will know my worldly weight,

for all my rocks and visions

will move you from that space.

Everyday Life · Friendship · Guest Photographer · Uncategorized

Brothers of Frightful Sea 5/28/18

We vikings,

raiders of foreign shores,

brave the unknown steel

 

Each step a swing,

Each word a block,

 

For Each day and Each way,

to breath unscathed,

a quiet scream to say,

 

we haven’t given up

we do not surrender!

 

so we stand against the tide,

arms out stretched

for love’s wings unfurl inside us

and give us flight above all else.

 

oh, my kin of war

guard me mine

for all hope we have

is all we hope to be

 

my brother of frightful sea.

Everyday Life · Guest Photographer · Nature · Uncategorized

To this, I am free 5/27/18

to this land which poisons me,

to these souls which judge me,

 

I know no safety

but the freedom of pre-conceived condemnation.

 

I know no comfort

but the washing of the vile

harshly piled upon my skin.

 

to this land which poisons me,

to these souls which judge me,

 

know this…

 

you can squeeze me

bend me

smack me

claw at me until you’re satisfied,

 

but I shall never break.

 

to this land

to those souls

 

I am free.

Everyday Life · Friendship · Guest Author · Guest Photographer · Uncategorized

The Time Capsule: by Penny Preston 5/22/18

My calendar must be replaced

this I hate to do.

The memories invoked within are pleasing to review.

 

I’ll forget about the dentist.

Don’t remind me of the vet,

but the movie night with girlfriends

brought some fun I don’t regret.

 

I enjoyed the cookout with my sons.

Had pleasure at the beach

The potluck at work had lots of laughts

I like reliving each…

 

I, now, glance down into my purse

my checkbook is all full.

ohhh…. the craftshow ….

Everyday Life

Gloop Gloop 5/13/2018

At the breath of life

I needed a drink,

so she handed me

a gloop gloop

 

At the growth of osul

I needed a spark

so she past right on

her interests

 

As the coming man

I needed a refuge

so she sat me down

and healed me

 

now battered and bruised

I now my truth

and move with all my might

towards sweet sparkling light

my dream in darkest night.

 

and yet sweet mother

of all the sparkling dreams,

of all the wondrous queens,

nothing could ever mean,

more to me than you

cause you got me a

gloop….

uh…

gloop.

 

Happy Mother’s Day.

Death · Everyday Life

The 3 Gates of Hell. (written by a correctional officer, a friend, and a human)

If only if only…

 

If only if only they could see what I’ve seen

 

If only if only they could hear what I’ve heard

 

If only if only they could smell what I have smelled

 

They would know why I don’t tell anyone how I feel. I protect them by letting them

think all is well in the world when In reality it is truly not.

 

You haven’t lived until you have smelled that fresh blood smell

 

You haven’t lived until you have tangled with death

 

Once you smell fresh blood you stop living though

 

You haven’t lived until you have seen another grown man take another man’s life with his bare hands

 

You haven’t lived until you’ve seen two men stabbing each other trying take the other’s life, and you willingly jump in the middle to save both of them because well, that’s your job and you secretly enjoy it

 

You haven’t lived until you run into a 15 man gang fight and have a warning shot fly

past your head on multiple occasions.

 

You never forget that crack of a .223 flying by your head because the

asshole in the tower has tunnel vision.

 

You don’t know frustration until you have to walk past maniacs in a cell every half an

hour and get piss and Shit thrown on you and you have to keep walking by.

 

Do you enjoy the risk?

 

Do you enjoy the adrenaline?

 

You don’t want to get hurt but you know if you do get hurt that will give you the excuse to beat the shit out of one of them

 

You haven’t lived until you have felt that high of being in a life or death situation and coming out on top

 

There is no greater feeling.

 

How do you exercise the demons which haunt your every move?

 

How do you escape the reality of death when it happens In front of you so often?

 

I’ll tell you how..you sack the fuck up and move out,

 

The difference between you and everyone else is that you can handle all of it.

 

It’s almost nothing to you

 

Is that scary?

 

Is that bad? That you understand there are bad people in the world and people die?

 

How do you listen to a grown man brag about raping a toddler and pissing on her, and then go home and joke with your family?

 

Then how do you see that man nearly an hour later almost beaten to death and you have to try and save his life?

 

You just FUCKING do it

 

Is it bad that it’s not hard for you anymore? That you don’t give a Shit?

 

Your only goal is to protect them, so you vowed to yourself to never share those stores with them.

 

The only scars I have from working in a prison are the mental scares. I got out lucky, and I got out in time.

 

I can deal with the mental scares because no one can see them, so it is easy to move on in life.

 

It’s a lot easier pretending you’re fine when you wake up from a nightmare, rather than telling them what it was about.

 

You can’t Imagine the look on their face if you were to tell them.

 

Once you see another man try and take another’s life you stop living

 

The world stops right?

 

Nope you just go home and pretend you didn’t Just witness a tragedy

 

You do it to protect them, because you know you can handle bottling it up more than they can handle hearing those words come from your mouth.

 

How do you do a round at midnight in the pitch black and see a man swinging from a rope by his neck in his cell and his face as purple as midnight itself with his lifeless eyes peering into my soul as if his is trying to find a place to go. Then go home a few hours later and laugh and joke over breakfast.

 

The day I witnessed another man lunge and continuously drive a sharp piece of metal into the other’s neck/face I stopped living, my world stopped turning.

 

But didn’t anyone else’s world stop along with mine?

 

What’s insane isn’t these men. It’s the fact that I am okay with keeping all these memories to myself to protect the people around me. It gives me joy knowing I am protecting them from hell on earth.

 

If god exists why does he allow things like this to happen?

 

If god doesn’t exist why isn’t there a god to prevent things like this from happening?

 

The sooner you accept the universe is a cold dark place that doesn’t give a Shit about you is the day you really start living, because you realize none of it matters.

 

Again, I am okay with keeping it all inside because I know I can handle it.

 

If only if only they could see what I’ve seen

 

if only if only they could hear what I’ve heard.

 

If only if only they could smell what I’ve smelled.

 

Maybe they would understand why I can’t sleep anymore or why I awaken every night sweating and trying to be quiet because I am embarrassed.

 

If only if only they knew what I was protecting them from…

 

If only if only…

Everyday Life · Guest Photographer · Nature

Limp Again 4/24/18

I am running fast enough

to never catch my breath

build, create, dismantle

until I’ve nothing left

 

step, turn, and step again

I run further on,

break my legs

and limp for days

never noticing the ponds

 

I run too hard

and hurt myself

I’ll probably do it again

bathe in blood, and sweat, and sin

why did I begin?

 

oh so fast,

I limp again,

 

I pray life slows me down.

If it can only teach itself

or learn a method how.