The story, something we all have but some are more remarkable than others. My thoughts are with Athena’s family.
“Happiness depends upon ourselves. Maybe it’s not about the happy ending, maybe it’s 
about the story. The purpose of life is a life of purpose. The difference between ordinary and extraordinary is that little extra.”
Athena Orchard, age 13, cancer non-survivor.
Wow.
Sources: http://boredomtherapy.com/bone-cancer-note/?pas=1&as=701aol&bdk=a701aol
Diabetes was diagnosed for my ex-husband which may have been the cause for my ex-husband’s volatile mood changes. If someone in your family is prone to outbursts of rage, recommend they be tested for diabetes. It could save everyone a lot of grief.
Diabetes is an ugly disease, affecting the physical health of those who have it. It may also 
affect the mental health of victims. Anecdotal evidence suggests that it may be the cause of some verbal and physical violence in the home.
What we know.
What we’re not sure about and…
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It’s challenging when you know in your heart that the one hurting you the most with her negativity is the one you gave birth too!
“New beginnings come when the heart realizes it must move on.”
Sometimes there must be an ending to certain parts of our life, before we can accept a new chapter in our life. Even if it means digging deep within one’s self to let go of the things or people who hold us from moving forward.
I myself, am at fault of this, I’m afraid to hurt others by letting go, but I’ve come to realize I will not progress to what’s waiting for me, the possibilities I have limited myself to, until I accept letting go of what I am so clinging so hard to.
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“Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.” ~Carl Sandburg
What is free verse poetry? The Poet’s Cookbook says free verse does not use consistent meter patterns, rhyme, or any other musical pattern.[i] In fact, most slam or spoken word poetry from the past thirty or more years is free verse. Many poems composed in free verse tend to follow the rhythm of natural speech. Although free verse requires no meter, rhyme, or other traditional poetic techniques, a poet can still use them to create some sense of structure. A poet knows when to use certain phrases and comma to create rhythm and structure. The exact definition is written by the poet although T. S. Eliot wrote, “No verse is free for the man who wants to do a good job”
Free verse poetry has become the favored form for new and experienced poets alike. Free verse may be written as very beautiful prose; prose may be written as very beautiful free verse. If you consider the Bible, there are passages written that flow naturally with a poetic cadence and no visible sign of structure which indicates to me that free verse has existed longer than we’ve realized.
I feel free verse provides me a sense of freedom to create without the confines found in traditional poetry. I frequently write free verse although my goal this year is to master sonnets and villanelles because every artist needs to continually improve their skill set. Robert Frost remarked that writing free verse was like “playing tennis without a net.” The thrill of no net appeals to most free spirits. Whereas William Carlos Williams states “poetry is art form, and therefore verse cannot be free in the sense of having no limitations or guiding principles” I think poets like Charles Bukowski, Walt Whitman, and Ezra Pound, who were masters at free verse poetry and would disagree with Mr. Williams. Many poets today still disagree on the value of having structure versus having no structure. Although we can all agree with Maya Angelou statement “Words mean more than what is set down on paper. It takes a human voice to infuse them with deeper meaning.”
I’ve chosen four selections of free verse that I enjoy and one of my own so you can see how the different poets approached free verse.
Finish and Cause and Effect are written by Charles Bukowski [ii]
Finish
We are like roses that have never bothered to
bloom when we should have bloomed and
it is as if
the sun has become disgusted with
waiting
Cause And Effect
the best often die by their own hand
just to get away,
and those left behind
can never quite understand
why anybody
would ever want to
get away
from
them
O Captain My Captain by Walt Whitman [iii]
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.
O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up- for you the flag is flung- for
you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths- for you the shores
a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
Tame Cat by Ezra Pound [iv]
It rests me to be among beautiful women
Why should one always lie about such matters?
I repeat:
It rests me to converse with beautiful women
Even though we talk nothing but nonsense,
The purring of the invisible antennaeIs
both stimulating and delightful.
Our Eyes Meet by Lyn Crain [i]
The warm, afternoon sun trickles through the tree branches.
As I amble along the worn trodden path
our eyes meet, when I look her way.
I ask if I may join her, she nods yes.
Taken off guard as a rush of heat rises to my face
by this beautiful, enchanting woman before me.
Her short shiny blonde hair against her golden skin-
sparkling blue eyes with an irresistible smile.
Her curvaceous body dressed provocatively-
a blithe smile slowly widens as we converse.
I am curious what made her cheeks suddenly flush,
and her azure eyes darken and smolder.
The minx suggestively teases me as
her tongue slowly slips across her pink lips.
I sense there is a passionate woman hiding within.
Her beautiful blue eyes twinkle with mischief reveal
a more intimate side in her nature.
Her mysterious aura enthralls and seduces me
breaking down every barrier, melting my soul.
Her lascivious laughter lifts my troubled spirit and
captivates my heart with her bubbly carefree nature.
I smile as I gaze once more into her sparkling eyes.
My breath suddenly ragged with desire.
Her gentle touch setting my blood aflame.
As we stroll along the now dew covered path
fingers intertwined, not a word spoken.
The sensual magic of a new love unfolding
as our eyes lock once more…
[i] The Poet’s Cookbook by Dan Gilbert
[ii] https://www.poetrysoup.com/famous/poems/short/charles_bukowski
[iii] https://www.poetrysoup.com/famous/poem/o_captain_my_captain_198
[iv] https://www.poetrysoup.com/famous/poem/tame_cat_14985
[v] Our Eyes Meet was written for Victor Crain, my best friend, my husband.
Angels©Maurya Simon
Who are without mercy,
Who confide in trumpet flowers,
Who carry loose change in their pockets,
Who dress in black velvet,
Who wince and fidget like bats,
Who balance their haloes on hatracks,
Who watch reruns of famine,
Who powder their noses with pollen,
Who laugh and unleash earthquakes,
Who sidle in and out of our dreams
Like magicians, like childhood friends,
Who practice their smiles like pirates,
Who exercise by walking to Zion,
Who live on the edge of doubt,
Who cause vertigo but ease migraines,
Who weep milky tears when troubled,
Whose night sweats engender the plague,
Who pinion their arms to chandeliers,
Who speak in riddles and slant rhymes,
Who love the weak and foolhardy,
Who lust for unripe persimmons,
Who scavenge the fields for lost souls,
Who hover near lighthouses,
Who pray at railroad crossings,
Who supervise the study of rainbows,
Who cannot blush but try,
Who curl their hair with corkscrews,
Who honeymoon with Orion,
Who are not wise but pure,
Who behave with impious propriety,
Who hourly scour our faces with hope,
Whose own faces glow like radium,
Whom we’ve created in our own form,
Who are without mercy, seek and yearn
To return us like fossilized roses
To the wholeness of our original bloom.
I love his poetry. I’m particularly fond of Macavity, The Mysterious Cat. We named our youngest tabby cat Macavity because like Eliot’s cat in the poem whenever things happen he is nowhere to be seen.This beauty with the golden eyes is our baby.
https://allpoetry.com/Macavity:-The-Mystery-Cat
I adore Eliot’s writing. His grasp of poetry and it’s purpose in society is sheer brilliance. I’ve chosen a few quotes that define poetry’s role for a poet like me.
“Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality, but an escape from personality. But, of course, only those who have personality and emotions know what it means to want to escape from these things.”
Positivism matters
“I write to find strength.
I write to become the person that hides inside me.
I write to light the way through the darkness for others.
I write to be seen and heard.
I write to be near those I love.
I write by accident, promptings, purposefully and anywhere there is paper.
I write because my heart speaks a different language that someone needs to hear.
I write past the embarrassment of exposure.
I write because hypocrisy doesn’t need answers, rather it needs questions to heal.
I write myself out of nightmares.
I write because I am nostalgic, romantic and demand happy endings.
I write to remember.
I write knowing conversations don’t always take place.
I write because speaking can’t be reread.
I write to soothe a mind that races.
I write because you can play on the page like a child left alone in the sand.
I write because my emotions belong to the moon; high tide, low tide.
I write knowing I will fall on my words, but no one will say it was for very long.
I write because I want to paint the world the way I see love should be.
I write to provide a legacy.
I write to make sense out of senselessness.
I write knowing I will be killed by my own words, stabbed by critics, crucified by both misunderstanding and understanding.
I write for the haters, the lovers, the lonely, the broken-hearted and the dreamers.
I write because one day someone will tell me that my emotions were not a waste of time.
I write because God loves stories.
I write because one day I will be gone, but what I believed and felt will live on.”
― Shannon L. Alder
“Shannon L. Alder is an inspirational author that has set out to write the most inspirational quotes on Goodreads. To date, she has written 1,200 quotes (beating out the top competition: Dr. Phil, John Gray, Dr. Laura and other relationship gurus) and she is still going strong! Her quotes have been published in over 100 different books, by various relationship authors and in several online magazine articles (Psychology Today, Huffington Post, etc.). Her philosophy or Shannonisms are centered around celebrating your uniqueness and freeing yourself from your fears so you can live with purpose.She addresses in her quotes the issues most people face that prevents them from taking themselves to the next level (self-esteem, lack of focus, fear, anxiety, self-righteousness, mental illness, lack of positivity, not caring, control issues, jealousy, and anger).”
I’ve discovered we are soul sisters. There is something to be said for having one’s emotions validated.
Her writing that I am the most familiar with are her books but I’ve recently begun checking out her blog on goodreads and facebook because I enjoy her thinking process.
They both offer ways to open communications with your children or your spouse. Both books will become go-to conversation starters time and time again.
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1391130.Shannon_L_Alder?from_search=true
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Who Protects the Child?
©Lyn Crain
Denial, not my daughter or son
They wouldn’t hit anyone Maybe they yell at lot Or sometimes give a swat. But that is not abuse Based on the unique number of victims, an estimated 78 percent (78.3) suffered neglect, an estimated 18 percent (17.6) were physically abused, an estimated 9 percent (9.2) were sexually abused, an estimated 8 percent (8.1) were psychologically maltreated, and an estimated 2 percent (2.4) were medically neglected. In addition, an estimated 10 percent of the victims (10.3) experienced “other” types of maltreatment such as “abandonment,” “threats of harm to the child,” and “congenital drug addiction.” http://www.acf.hhs.gov/programs/cb/resource/can-faq7 https://www.childwelfare.gov/topics/systemwide/statistics/can/natl-state/ https://www.childhelp.org/hotline/
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Imagery and writing flow smoothly together ❤️
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