Nov 29, 2017

If You Polish Enough Soot


PHOTO PROMPT ©What's His Name


James salvaged everything he could when his grandmother’s house burnt down.

He said, “If you polish enough soot from tragedy, you’ll find roots to build a bridge.”

Astonished, his brother argued, “A bridge! Why would you want what lived in that house crossing over anywhere near you? I could never sleep when staying there for the wailing in the attic and the wallpaper rearranging roses in its stripes every full moon. Grandma Winnie’s house sat twenty-five feet from Hemlock Cemetery’s plot of unmarked graves. Hell! The dead walked right through her front door. I’m done!


Nov 22, 2017

Moving

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields


I hate to move. Oh, if I could just be a minimalist instead of a forty year old with a teenager’s emotional attachment to junk. If I wasn’t so lazy I’d photograph that monstrous prom mum; put it in an album, and leave another gaudy offering in the landfill.

I museum heartbreak in little dusty coffins so crumbled I can’t even read the ink headstones peeking out among my shoes. Wait! I remember that necklace. It was a fourteen year old’s equivalent to a promise ring. David was so cute. Hmmm, with a little better packing it would all fit.


Nov 21, 2017

A Wonderful Interview

It takes a village to grow an author and I am so thankful for all the people who suggested I do an interview on Impact Radio USA's "Dr. Paul's Family Talk" hosted by Dr. Paul Reeves. As an author of poetry it was great to discuss what poetry means to me and why I write it.



08_00


Nov 16, 2017

Walking Away From 1950

This is my first time writing for Friday Fictioneers. I heard about it from listening to Rochelle Wisoff-Field's interview on Dr. Paul's Family Talk radio show. I normally write poetry, but I thought I would attempt a short story. 

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

I didn’t expect the water show when I burnt the roast to spite the man. Charlie is never good with filters when he speaks. He dropped a match in the room, and well, there was fire.

He bragged, “No woman is fully dressed until she puts on an apron. Her best asset is knowing how to use a spoon.”

I made a slight adjustment to the oven temperature, and told him to keep an eye on the roast. Knowing he wouldn’t I traded apron for heels. Sass needs to make noise when it’s walking away from 1950. Firetrucks are optional.





Oct 8, 2017

My Anatomy My Right

Why do men get to make decisions on women's health? Employers can use the excuse of a moral or faith based belief to deny coverage of birth control. So our president is the mouth piece for moral and right to life Rep. Tim Murphy for faith based reasoning, or oh wait, Hobby Lobby's David Green who collected stolen religious artifacts? Birth control not only prevents pregnancy, but the hormone pill is used to treat a host of women's health issues https://youngwomenshealth.org/…/medical-uses-of-the-birth-…/.

Where are the proponents of denying medicine when it comes to a man's erection? Is that a medical necessity? Pregnancy isn't caused by Immaculate Conception. Women have become the scapegoats for so many things beginning with a rib and a garden. If I sound pissed, I am. I have two daughters, and a host of nieces whose lives will be impacted by the decision of men on their health.

Yes, I am a feminist. Do I hate men? No... This is about the right to health. The right to not suffer physical, emotional, financial pain because religion and employers wish to use their definition of moral to legislate health decisions only a patient and doctor should have the right to decide.


Jul 24, 2017

Trauma and The Bitch It Leaves Behind

This is difficult to write, as difficult as it has been and is to live. Everyone has an opinion about getting over something, but climbing the mountain after trauma is years of progress and sliding. Recently I have begun to understand more of the reasons I react to certain things I felt didn't have any connection to the childhood trauma of sexual abuse. 

I never understood where my fear of traffic came at such an early age. It was already there when I had a minor traffic accident at sixteen, multiplied, became paralyzing after a severe accident in 2006. I now understand it began when I was five. 

At the age of five until I was ten I was sexually abused by an uncle. Not only was I abused but I witnessed the abuse of other children. My uncle gaslighted me into believing I was the reason for my abuse. I asked for it. I couldn't trust my own sense of right and wrong. I was a bad girl no one would believe. The nightmares and tears that came at bedtime were born from my guilt.

One episode was especially crushing and left a horrific imprint on my brain. I remember the smell of plaster, the sun streaming in from a front porch, my grandfather and father talking on the other side of the wall, a beast violating me while threatening me to be silent. 

It has only been recently that I realized how that childhood trauma comes through in my response to heavy traffic. It takes me back to that plaster room where a man much larger than I imprinted me with fear. I feel like a tiny spec in a house of monsters who rise from the earth in buildings and and growl in engines and speed. Imagine yourself afraid of spiders, being trapped with them crawling over you, across your tongue, attempting to sit still so they won't bite, leave you in agony from their venom. That is a small visual of  part of the bitch trauma has left me with.

It is a miracle I manage to keep any semblance of sanity. I have often apologized for my fear, my inability to drive in large cities or even at times in small ones. I can't keep apologizing. I wouldn't ask you to apologize for your fears. No one, not even my husband, knows how I am trying to keep hold on my sanity. Oh he knows my fear, sees my stress, but he doesn't know the true intensity of the struggle. 

Anyone who suffers from PTSD ( post traumatic stress disorder) may know what triggers episodes, but they can't say with certainty when those triggers will appear. I'm doing the best I can. I can't beat myself up anymore about it. 

_____________________

I've written about my childhood trauma before. You can read more here.


Jul 18, 2017

Where Butterflies Pray ~ Book Release

I'm excited to announce my poetry collection, Where Butterflies Pray, is now available in print and kindle pre-order on Amazon.
Nature has always been at the center of my spiritual journey, and in this book I share poems written from time spent communing with nature.