Wednesday, December 12, 2018

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My Thoughts:

I never really gave fate or detiny a second thought. Until I moved to this town on the outskirts of Boston. This is not the kind of place I ever thought I would live, or dare raise children. But, Here I am.

Of coarse I met a man, fell in love and moved to HIS hometown. So the first couple of weeks I'm here, I called 911 three times. Oh, yes I did!

I found a man dead in the doorway to our condo. Called police and emt's took him away.

a week later: The same man, dead in my doorway, full of vomit, urinated on himself and the 911 dispatcher yelled at me... Read More

I don't question why I am this "Way".. I used too, though.

I would insanely agonize over my so called "sickness" that's what "he" called it. That's what "she" hollered in the numerous high-pitched cell phone messages.

"We love you...We just want you to get help."

"Help for what?" I laughed...

"Is it really the end of the world, because I like belts?"

"Okay, I admit it! I am saving myself from damnation and I wanna go to Heaven! I confess my sins to my Lord and Savior" (With fingerprint spit tears down my cheeks) I plead. "I wanna be saved"...(on my knees... Read More

Rummaging through the desk fingers plummeted deep beneath papers. Fingertips desperately searching, until I found it. A plain-white, unlined, notepad. Ferociously, I wrenched it from the drawer, and grabbed a glass jar of thumbtacks from the shelf. I quickly retreated to the kitchen. At, the far end..lie an empty wall; my firing target.

I threw the things on the kitchen table, yanked a black marker from my back pocket, and wrote erratically. I scribbled..then ripped. Scribbled then ripped... scribbling and ripping .. HURT CHEAT ABANDONMENT DISRESPECT HATE USED LIES... Read More

I wish Leonard Nimoy were still around. Do you remember his show, "In Search of" where he would travel far and wide to discover new things. He would investigate and research to find out the truth of where things came from. I think he might do well to bring his show back to life to be "In Search of A Man With Substance."

Imagine looking into the cracks and crevices of a man's world, searching at sporting events, sports bars and pool halls and in corporate America. Now, I certainly don't mean looking too closely. Again, a full set of teeth and well-educated is a great start. But then again,... Read More



I’m writing this letter as simple as I can make it so your small mind can comprehend. There are things that I have shared with you in the past month or two which was obviously a mistake. I was under the impression by now at your age that you have matured into adulthood, but I guess I was wrong.

I have mentioned to you about that property my father had giving me for when I wanted to start a business in the future. In this moment in time I couldn't do anything with it because of my current circumstances, and you are aware of that. One of the last things you... Read More

Dara was with the social services agent for more than an hour. She sat in a plastic, orange chair in a tiny office. There was enough room for a small book shelf against the wall, a chair and desk and two chairs on the other side of the desk.

The agent's office door was open and Dara looked out the door and across the narrow hall at another woman with another agent. The other woman looked right at Dara. Apparently, she was as uncomfortable and bored as she was.

"How many children do you have," the agent asked Dara.

"I have two children...a girl and a boy," she answered.... Read More

I am tired of wishing my life away and tired of all of the tears. I'm sick of wondering why things are and wanting someone to make things better. Why do I have to succumb to such daggers of anguish that tear at my soul and leave me without any possibility of experiencing a moment of peace of love or anything of substance that might seem to supply food to my soul?

It never ends. I get just so far and then - STOP! I am knocked down and pummeled by society's neglect of its own, leaving those without protection to wither and die inside.

It's sick isn't it? How is such complacency... Read More

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Recent Comments

Musings Of A Poet

Agree Barb, throwing the baby out with the bath water 'aint the answer. Take care. :>)

Musings Of A Poet

I know Rigina, when it takes a week for legite comments to appear it is upsetting, and it is killing the site slowly. Surely there must be a better way to address the spammers and floggers. Also taking away ratings if you do not post in a period of...

Musings Of A Poet

ed i was one of the original complainers about people using this site to flog their stuff. Now legite comments don't show?