Flashing Pictures

Flashing pictures cross my mind

They fade in and out

The past becomes the present as you approach

To push and poke me as I sleep


I wake up, tears in my eyes

Streams that would not run before

Cover my face with floods of pain

And years of regret


My heart breaks as I remember

The trouble–The anger

The inescapable place I was

The place I could not hide from


But now I’m free

To make my life from here

To change and grow with everyday

And to become someone new–to me



Graveyard of My Dreams

Welcome to the graveyard of my dreams
Don’t ask me in
It hurts too much
I see remains of scattered love
The love I gave was not returned
And still I hoped it would be
I see my home within my mind
My furniture
My pots, my pans
I baked with them
And in return
I was denied respect or care
My graveyard haunts my days and nights
You’ve hung my paintings on your walls
Like snares set to entrap me once again
And you know that those things are mine
That everything belongs to ME
Collections that do not belong to you
And every time I see those dreams
I glimpse the past and feel the pain
The touch, the smell, they were my life
A life I fought to build and keep
A life you would not let me have
A life that is the graveyard of my dreams


Haunting Dreams

Images of you still haunt my dreams

Screaming, crying, fear and fighting the pain


I wake and feel relief to be alone

Knowing that the dream has ended


Results of the truth that created the nightmare

Continue to secretly stalk me by day


But I cannot hide from my past in my dreams

And images haunt me by night


Tears in My Eyes

After finding escape from a very long, very abusive, relationship, I felt light hearted and free.  I was grateful for the women who helped redefine my life. I was blessed to find a new and peaceful way of living. I’d consciously and willfully shut out memories of fear and abuse.  I thought it was finally over and I would continue to feel peaceful, and that’s the way it went for quite a while.  But I hadn’t counted on the dreams.  As I moved forward in time, living several years of happiness, the trauma of the past demanded to be dealt with and then, one night, those traumas began to resurface–in my dreams. Many of these dreams were forgotten, but when I woke, I’d feel the fear and pain again and knew what I had been dreaming about.  The few I would recall, I noted as poems, to finally face what had taken place in my life. Facing my past, writing about it, helped me to let those memories go. The next few postings will be about those dreams.

Tears in My Eyes

Waking up with tears in my eyes.  I dreamed of you.

We were together again.

But it’s not real, you are gone.


This Old Deck

My life changed drastically when I began my new peaceful way of living. The little story below shows a piece of that change.

This Old Deck

Even after the most difficult of days at work, sitting on the deck at the back of my house was always soothing. It was a peaceful place, where I often sat in early evening watching sailboats moving slowly on the bay. Sun would shine bright, and silently reflect off the water’s mixed colors of blue. Sky and bay touching at the horizon created a feeling of complete contentment. A peacefulness filled me.

Ospreys swooping down as I watched, barely touching the bay, but managing to successfully complete the task of catching large fish to satisfy their appetites and feed their hungry chicks. Repeated activity of catching and bringing fish home provided rhythm to those late afternoons.

Seagulls would join in the hunt– although their fish were always smaller then the ospreys.

Clouds floating by, all shapes and sizes completed the scene as I’d relax into my comfy chair and accept the gifts that day offered.

After a while, I’d hear the front door slam—my children were home from school, noisy with comments and questions. I’d rise from my chair—go inside and ask them about their day while my hands worked, preparing some kind of snack that I knew they’d enjoy.

Peanut butter on crackers—or on slices of apples were favorites.  And after this we’d move on to other familiar events, dance class, Karate, after school play practice. Busy, active comings and goings, this is how our days were.

Everything was perfect then as it should be. Full days, happy nights, always busy, always noisy, always moving and doing and saying. This is life.

And when alone, I’d go back to my deck. At night the New York lights lit up my sky line. Day dreaming about what tomorrow would bring, I found beauty in the lights and buildings across the bay and comfort in the knowing that tomorrow would be just about the same as today. I looked forward to the noise and movement of my children.  I looked forward to the rhythm of my days and nights. I looked forward to tomorrow and the time I’d spend sitting in my chair on my deck in both day and evening light. I looked forward to the movement of my happy life.