Emotions Running High

The last week has been a bit of an emotional rollercoaster ride. In a matter of seven days I went from:

High on happiness after receiving the results of my novel writing course
to
Low because I heard that I won’t be able to carry on because the finance I applied for is not going to be granted.
to
Angry when a friend hurt my feelings by jumping to a wrong conclusion
to
Excited when I heard another friend is coming to visit
to
Confused at receiving mixed signals from a chap I fancy
to
Proud after doing extremely well at my second fitness test
to
Heartbroken when I heard that a friend of mine had lost his mother
to
Surprised when I heard that Julius Malema’s appeal was rejected and that he has finally been stripped of his position as leader of the ANC Youth League.

I told Carmen last week that I’m scared (so another emotion) I’m having a relapse, considering that I just tossed my anti-depressants aside without really consulting anyone. I felt I didn’t need the crutch anymore, so I just stopped drinking them. After all I have so many positive things to focus on. Some days though I wish I could have the crutch back…

Anyhow, I’ve been in the mood to write poetry again – the emotional up and downs seem to have that effect on me, but the question was what to write about. So, I got hold of Suzelle this morning and said, “Help! I want to write some poetry, but I have no idea about what. Give me a theme.” She replied that I should write about dreams…and so, as is par for the course when I want to write poetry, I trawl the internet for some visual inspiration. I came across this picture on Outinleftfield and thought that it is absolutely perfect.

Focused on a goal
Transfixed by a hope
Mesmerized by a dream

Her hazel eyes stare
Into a dark oblivion
Yearning to find treasure

You look at her
But she doesn’t notice
Her mind is whirling

She reaches her dream
Clings onto it tightly
Wanting to realize it
She plans the execution
The intricate battle plan
Her demeanour cat like

You wonder about her
But she doesn’t notice
She chases her dream

At the last hurdle
She stumbles, she falls
Her dream is lost

Hazel eyes are puffy
Staring into the light
Her dream is gone

You speak to her
But she doesn’t notice
She can’t carry on

Focused on her religion
Transfixed by her heaven
Mesmerized by her Lord

Her hazel eyes alight
With a hopeful future
Clinging to His Promise

You look at her
Her smile welcomes you
Invites you to celebrate

She finds her heaven
Enters it with excitement
She wants to stay

Her heart is light
Her spirit is peaceful
Her life is complete

You wonder about her
You question your motives
You finally ask her

But it’s too late
You wasted previous time
Her heart has flatlined…

Sexual Abuse Leaves Scars…Forever!

Many of you who read my blog know this already, but for those of you who don’t. I am a survivor of sexual abuse. I was abused by my biological father, who, if I had to see him in the street, I probably wouldn’t recognize, and, if I did, I would probably spit on him and carry on walking. As far as I’m concerned, he’s dead. I locked the horrors away in the dark recesses of my mind for years and, it was only in high school, that something triggered the memories. Whether or not there has been a complete healing process, I don’t think so. I have problems with certain intimacies and at a certain point in some intimate situations, my brain totally shuts the rest of my body off and I just can’t carry on. Needless to say, this doesn’t exactly bode well for my sexual relationships. A close friend of mine has recommended hypnosis, but part of me is too scared at just what I might remember.

So, when I heard this on the radio this afternoon, I was immediately heartbroken. What drives men to steal a child’s innocence.

Humansdorp Grandfather Guilty of Sexual Assault

Tears of anger and heartache sprang into my eyes as I listened – and then I got to thinking, “If this man molested his own daughter, the likelihood of her letting her own daughters near him would be nil, so he must be the father of the children’s father. Kudos to the courts for convicting him. Now sentencing awaits…although whatever faces him in prison will be some kind of justice. The stories one hears of what happens to child molesters in South African prisons is enough to give you sleepless nights.

One thing I wonder about though, is, after not seeing my father for 21 years (we left him when I was 9) and still harbouring resentment towards him, how are these people going to feel towards the man (their father(in-law)) stealing their daughters’ innocence. All I can do is pray for the family – while the scars the children have might not be so visible now, they will be as soon as these young girls start forming relationships with members of the opposite sex. It’s the sad reality of cases like this.

I wrote this poem in the car, once I’d finally managed to stop the flood of tears. If you are sensitive, you might want to stop reading now.

The image is courtesy of tclj.toasted-cheese.com


Growing Up Too Soon

I’m blind
My eyes see the pretty flowers
But here, I can’t see, I don’t want to watch!
But you make me look at “your power”

I’m deaf
My ears hear the birds outside
But here, I can’t hear, I don’t want to listen!
But you whisper “secrets” in my ear

I’m numb
My legs run on the playground
But here, I’m paralysed, I can’t move!
But you make me open them so you can touch my “womanhood”

I’m cold
My little body shivers when it rains
But here, I’m frozen, I’m dead
You cover my body with yours to “warm me from the inside”

I don’t understand
You’re not a monster like those in my storybooks
Everybody likes you, Mommy loves you…
Do they know the truth?

I’m not blind
But instead of seeing pretty flowers outside
All I see around me is hurt
“Your power” has harmed me

I’m not deaf
But instead of the hearing the singing birds outside
All I hear is heartbroken cries
Your “secrets” have made me hateful

I’m not numb
But instead of running on the playground
I run away from people who want to love me properly
My “womanhood” is tainted

I’m not cold
My body is warm to a touch
But then the fire goes out
Your “warming me from the inside” has turned me cold

I don’t understand
You are the monster in my dreams
The truth is out, you’re shunned and unloved
Yet I struggle to be free…

Creative Writing: Mixed Emotions

Image

(Image by igzlz.deviantart.com)

Mixed Emotions

Your voice so rich and inviting

Your chocolate eyes so warm

Your smile genuine and open

Yet your reaction is cold…

 

My hope will not be cut off

Tells a wise king in the Proverbs

I have a future

Solomon declares

 

I extend an olive branch, a request to mend what’s left of what we have

But only lowly twigs remain

As your fire of rejection burns it to ashes

My heart aches in sad confusion

 

I hear your hollow voice behind me in the hallway

I turn to look into your reflection-less eyes

Your lips so tightly pursed hide your memorable smile

Who are you?  What have you become?

 

Momentary flames burn within me

As I speak your name from my lips

My tummy flutters when I see you

My skins yearns for your touch

 

I cling to my promised hope

Of a love eternal

I am never alone

Single footsteps show me where He carries me…

 

Wordlessly you open your arms

A tear escapes, staining your cheek

Your lips part in a primal roar

“I love you.   Please, don’t leave me!”

 

Only embers remain

As ice engulfs my heart

I feel empty and lost

Yet strangely at peace

 

My voice is crisp

My eyes wide-open

My smile sincere

My reaction unexpected, even to me…

 

“I am hurt, confused and almost hateful…

But I can’t stop loving you!”

 

A roaring fire burns my core

As I scream your name from my lips

My tummy flutters as you gently take my hand

My skin is alive by your touch.

A New Beginning in the Rain

A New Beginning in the Rain

They walk through the park
Friends, Companions, Lovers
The whisper of the rain holds promise
Of crisp, clean, clear things for the future

Fallen Autumn leaves litter the path
Their colours splendorous reminders of riches
The yellow brown ones, myrrh
The red ones, garnets & rubies
The orange ones, citrines

He wonders if the moment is right
The rain begins gets louder
Spurring him on, its cacophonic drum beat in sync
With that of his heart

She is lost in a daydream
As she stares at the river
The smell of newness fills the air
As the rain washes old things away

She turns to find him admiring her
From upon his knees
Longingly, tenderly, affectionately
“I love you darling, marry me!”

The white diamond smiles at her
Its iridescence a sparkling reminder
Of their love, their hopes, their passion
Their open, untainted future

A symphony of water
Continues to play from the sky
Their love, will live forever
In their hearts, it won’t wither

A rainbow of colours
A myriad of emotions
A contract sealed with a kiss
“Of course, I’ll marry you.”

The brilliant rock shines
Even though the sun is hiding
Warmth runs through her
Despite Winter’s warning chill

“Come here and dance with me in the rain”

(Photo courtesy of http://www.shaystephens.com)

Photographs…

 

Stinging eyes, damp with salt

Reality dawns with a choking sob

So many memories…

In each picture she smiles

I wonder where she is

The girl I used to be…

It’s not that I don’t like

The woman I’ve become

Life is just different now…

Relationships have been altered

Some friends lost, new ones found

Solid ties for the future…

I hold onto hope

I laugh out loud

Love in my aching heart will abound!