navwin » Archives » Open Poetry #12 » Winds of Change
Open Poetry #12
Post A Reply Post New Topic Winds of Change Go to Previous / Newer Topic Back to Topic List Go to Next / Older Topic
Mysteria
Deputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Laureate
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328
British Columbia, Canada

0 posted 2001-03-11 04:09 AM







~*~WINDS OF CHANGE~*~

written by ~Mysteria~


A simple sound of a creaking board in the floor,
Is suddenly replaced with a memory I want to fade,
Horrific, strong currents of wind race thoughts,
In mind's eye, triggering terrifying memories,
So fast - now the path to truth has been laid.

It is on days like this, I wish to be a good writer,
Able to sit down and write expressively
All the torment that is going through my heart.
The feelings so very strong and painful,
And somehow, I can’t even find the words to start.

Those silly rhymes start running around in my head,
I try to write quickly to get down to the pain.
I think of others who write and they never rhyme,
I have to really wonder sometimes, if the rhymes
Are what protect me, and keep me from going insane?

As long as I can remember, I could talk in rhyme,
To avoid pain simply a verse I would make.
The more sorrow I had and the older I got,
Those stupid little rhyming poems only became,
Easier for me, to soothe away sad heartache.

If it takes a poem in rhyme to write out this pain,
Then it is a rhyme that I am going to do.
I have to write sadness out, before I forget it all,
Today the flashbacks were so intense, not only one,
But like strong currents of wind in mind's eye,
A constant sting of bees the whole day through.

The abuse started early I even remember the crib,
And him coming to take me into his bed,
And as I grew older, nothing really changed,
Except that I only moved from a crib to
A pretty, big girl's bed instead.

He locked me in a cupboard for safe-keeping.
I was his amusement, just a sexual toy,
I would hold my breath whenever I heard that key.
My Mother was there; but didn’t seem to care,
She kept my teeth and hair always brushed.
See, he left her alone, and instead, came after me.

I'd tremble at the sound of his footsteps.
The key sounding in the keyhole,
Always made my little heart stop.
I remember as a child, holding myself,
All curled up so tight in a little ball,
Quiet, listening, waiting...waiting,
He whistled as he walked down our creaking hall.

I'd lie to get out of gym, as bruises,
Would show below my shorts,
Or they might catch a glimpse of my thighs.
I would hide in the locker room, so no one
Would see the burning tears welling up in my eyes.

As time passed, as time often does, I learned,
Meditation and how to shut off the sound,
Of the creaking floor that always haunted me.
I'd drift far away, rhyme out some words,
Dismissing the feel of him under my skin,
In my body, his smell, somehow it set me free.

One day my Mother bought me some china painted butterflies,
She said that one day the hurt, pain,
Anger, and memories would all be set free.
Just as the butterfly laid dormant in a cocoon,
She hoped “all this” didn’t do much damage to me.

Well it did! Damn it! It did!
Did anyone ever stop to think I was just a child?
I carried that anger, hate, guilt, and shame,
All through my life, forever being his hostage.
He stole without remorse, my heart and soul,
To this demon, I had been nothing more,
Than a toy, in what was a very sick game.

Believe it or not that childhood made me strong,
As that was only the beginning of what was to be,
A life of the purest, living hell.
But today, I remembered some of the things
That for over fifty years I totally disavowed.

Now the healing can begin, forgiveness I will see…
Do I forgive someone who stripped my identity?
Someone I hated in my heart for so many years?
I will look inside where my soul is hiding,
Learn to love it, and just like those butterflies,
Try to just be at peace and set myself free.


~*~ Mysteria ~*~
© Copyright 2001
All Rights Reserved


Graphics: Moon and Back Graphics


~*~A poet is someone who reads more than they write ~*~




[This message has been edited by Mysteria (edited 03-11-2001).]

© Copyright 2001 Mysteria 1997 - All Rights Reserved
Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354
Listening to every heart
1 posted 2001-03-11 08:17 AM


I am so very sorry for this...When I first opened up this poem, I thought "perhaps she and I are quite alike" and soon discovered, you are far stronger than I....perhaps I have not yet been given all of the trials that He has planned for me, but I can only hope that I will come through them as well as you have come through yours...

I am so very, very glad that you are a member of Passions....it is going to be good getting to know you....

Bill Charles
Member Patricius
since 2000-07-11
Posts 10619
highways, & byways, for now
2 posted 2001-03-11 08:41 AM


Mysteria - you have started to become free, the day you sat down and wrote this poem. I wish you all the very best.

BC

Janet Marie
Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554

3 posted 2001-03-11 09:05 AM


Those silly rhymes start running around in my head,
I try to write quickly to get down to the pain.
I think of others who write and they never rhyme,
I have to really wonder sometimes, if the rhymes
Are what protect me, and keep me from going insane?

As long as I can remember, I could talk in rhyme,
To avoid pain simply a verse I would make.
The more sorrow I had and the older I got,
Those stupid little rhyming poems only became,
Easier for me, to soothe away sad heartache.

If it takes a poem in rhyme to write out this pain,
Then it is a rhyme that I am going to do.
I have to write sadness out, before I forget it all,
Today the flashbacks were so intense, not only one,
But like strong currents of wind in mind's eye,
A constant sting of bees the whole day through.
=====================
Now the healing can begin, forgiveness I will see…
Do I forgive someone who stripped my identity?
Someone I hated in my heart for so many years?
I will look inside where my soul is hiding,
Learn to love it, and just like those butterflies,
Try to just be at peace and set myself free.
==========================

This touches me in places deep Mysteria ...
not just for myself and my past ... but for several others who I love more than I love myself.
Because you are new here you couldnt know what the symbol of the butterfly has come to mean to me personally ... poetically and spiritually ... and to many others in here as well for reasons & experiences of their own past, as well as for the things of my poetry they have so preciously to me ... taken into their heart.
And now this morning, in this exceptional piece of writing... another butterfly is discovered...as well as a fellow poet who understands the NEED to rhyme ...something I related to very deeply in your words...
Let the writing continue to heal you as it is clear from this you are on your way...
let the rhymes be the wind beneath your wings ... the gift was given to you for that reason ...
"Butterflies are meant to be free" ...(these words now imprinted on my soul)
thank you for sharing this ... in the sharing others find their voice and in time
their wings.






[This message has been edited by Janet Marie (edited 03-11-2001).]

Moon Dust
Deputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Elite
since 1999-06-11
Posts 2177
Skelmersdale, UK
4 posted 2001-03-11 09:07 AM


you have my empathy, but make sure you deal with the past before those memories fly free again.

Don't ever give in, if you do you've lost everything you've ever had and everything you hope to gain, but if you carry on your already winning.


Mysteria
Deputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Laureate
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328
British Columbia, Canada
5 posted 2001-03-11 10:43 AM


I was going to tell you all this was "just a poem" and leave it at that, but it was not! This was part of my life that has made me who I am, and I am kind of proud of me. I don't hold any shame, blame, or anything as you can't change the past. However, by writing this, I had hoped maybe someone might read it somewhere where their child was in an abusive situation and actually do something about it. Not that status matters, but I was from a "well to do" family and my life such as it was at that time, was simply swept under the rug!.

Sunshine: Don't feel sorry, for me it is over, and the process of just living goes on like anyone else now and you may never have any "trials" so don't look for them. Your purpose may be to hear of others, tell them you care, and what greater gift is there than compassion?

Bill: The minute I realized my past I dealt with it, and am moving on. Sure explains why I was a high achiever all my life though which goes back to our discussion on retirement, LOL!

Now...Janet Marie - Below this note to you is the link to a poem written by a friend of mine that actually did start the memories coming back for me. It was not a creaky floorboard (that is my muse looking for a start to all this), but that floor board did exist, and any loud creak up until the day this happened, made me jump a mile high in fright! The woman who wrote this is a very good friend of mine, and had no idea what I had gone or was going through (for that matter nor did I!). I read her poem because of the title and it having to do with butterflies, and everything I had locked away in my mind and hidden for so many years unknowingly came flooding in as vivid as if it were yesterday. I dealt with what I envisioned the very next morning by calling a doctor, and still deal with it. You see I never could figure out my obsession with butterflies my whole life (I love them), and for some reason got out, and dusted off the ones my Mother gave me at age 12, and put them out only only hours before reading Martha's poem. Was it a coincidence Martha wrote the poem, and at the same time I pulled out the butterflies my Mother had given me and never unwrapped? Butterflies are meant to be set free, and I hope through this little piece of poetry others may feel they are not alone, speak up, get help, do whatever it takes to stop the sexual abuse of a child. Now after that long speech to you here is the poem that started the road to my healing should you care to read it: http://thestarlitecafe.com/poems/36/poem_901903427.html.

Moondust: Doing it! I am taking care of dealing with this in a professional manner, and feel great about that. It has helped a lot. But wait, I have more stories to come, my life was a regular bowl of cherries, lol!

To each of you that commented - thank you, I was not even going to say this was a true story, but it is...thanks for reading. I have a good life by the way! So, don't feel sympathy instead of empathy. Pen on, and thank you.

~*~A poet is someone who reads more than they write ~*~

Mysteria
Deputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Laureate
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328
British Columbia, Canada
6 posted 2001-03-11 12:01 PM


Sorry don't know why you are having a problem with the link, I am too. The poem is called, Hand Painted Butterflies by Martha Cowan (a fabulous poet), at this is located at http://thestarlitecafe.com. At the bottom of the page, Search in: use poets only, and then on the next line type: Martha Cowan Besides which, reading her work can only enhance your day!


~*~A poet is someone who reads more than they write ~*~

Janet Marie
Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554

7 posted 2001-03-11 12:14 PM




thank you.

VAS
Member Rara Avis
since 2000-11-16
Posts 7450
Oregon
8 posted 2001-03-11 12:31 PM


With tears in my eyes, I am speechless, except for "God bless you in your flight of new life."
thecraig
Member
since 2001-03-11
Posts 223

9 posted 2001-03-11 12:43 PM


Dear Mysteria I Pray those early times, stopped not, the greatest thigh view sharing ,I Pray your need on love & intimacy was not crushed, & you shared a babies birth.


walker
Member Elite
since 2001-02-11
Posts 2240
Florida
10 posted 2001-03-11 01:34 PM


Mysteria,writing about it will set you free.I admire your courage.God Bless You!


A quarter of a century must pass, for the writer to understand what and why he writes.

Katherine Chandler
Member
since 2001-03-07
Posts 280
Florida, USA
11 posted 2001-03-11 02:01 PM


Sweet Mysteria.. and you are sweet, my friend. I can relate to this poem to the point where my weeping clouded the page. Was I weeping for you or for me? I think both. I have been granted my voice but still have wings that just don't want to fly some days. The sadness caught in my throat, knowing what a giving, loving woman you are today, I can only assume that The Great Healer has caressed you in His arms and given you wings to fly. I had the image of a butterfly tattooed on my body so that each time I looked in the mirror I would know I was free to fly away from all the horrors of my past and sometimes when I see this beautiful butterfly, I see myself being able to run free and be a child again. At least that was why I got the tattoo. The symbolism came to me again as I read this heart-wrenching account of your life. What more can I say but I love you, dear one and God bless you.

Kate

Genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood.
T S Eliot

Martha Cowan
Member
since 2001-03-08
Posts 240
Groves, Texas
12 posted 2001-03-11 02:47 PM


Sweet lady, how you always know the button to push that touch my heart in the deepest of places. I have known since the day that you crossed my path that you were very special. It blesses me beyond my words to convey that my poem was written and posted at a time that you would just happen by to read it and make a connection that would free your butterflies from the dark and lonely cocoons where they were confined for so long. I don't think anything in life happens by chance...there is a reason for everything, and that poem came into my head out of the blue and although I argued with myself to call it an early night and post it later, something compelled me and srongly urged me not to wait. It wasn't long after posting it that I received your note, and I found myself wiping tears of joy. Your butterflies are free to fly now, my friend...gracing the skies above you in beauty and grace....
Thank you for the precious gift of your friendship.....you are so special. My favorite quote very much pertains to you..."Some people come into our lives and quickly go....Some stay a while and leave footprints in our hearts, and we are never, ever the same"....
Luv ya, my friend.....thank you,
Martha



Marge Tindal
Deputy Moderator 5 ToursDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-06
Posts 42384
Florida's Foreverly Shores
13 posted 2001-03-11 03:26 PM


Mysteria~
How your story will continue to touch more hearts than you realize.

Spirits Touching certainly sums up your meeting with Martha.
I've found what was wrong with your link to her lovely poem -
and here is the correct link
http://thestarlitecafe.com/poems/36/poem_901903427.html

It was just an extra period at the end.
Everyone should go and read this amazing spirit.
*Hugs*
~*Marge*~


~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~
noles1@totcon.com


Mysteria
Deputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Laureate
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328
British Columbia, Canada
14 posted 2001-03-11 03:34 PM


Vas - thank you for your kindness.

Janet - I read your poem ((hugs))

Walker - I am actually ok! Really! You are too kind in your comment, and I think you people here are wonderful!

theCraig - I have a son, wonderful daughter-in-law and granddaughter that I love more than life (the husbands...hmmm...now there are more poems!)

Marge - thank you for your comment, and for showing Martha in the light she so deserves. She spreads so much love, faith and hope to people, and the doors to her heart are always open for anyone, any time of the day!

Kate - What can I say to you that you do not already know - I value your friendship more than you will ever know, and we are so alike in our search, and we will fly one day!

Martha - you are my inspiration every single day, from Vancouver to Texas no love could be more binding. "He" works in very mysterious ways, he brought us together, you wrote that poem, and so on, and so on. I love you dear friend, and we are "forever" friends, and that feels so good!

Thank you all for your understanding, this was a tough thing to write down. I appreciate your time. If what I wrote helps one child my job is done.

p.s. while I have your attention - sorry for posting anything in capital letters, I will learn the rules as I go

~*~A poet is someone who reads more than they write ~*~

Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049
California
15 posted 2001-03-11 03:52 PM


Sharon--I am very touched by the strength of this writing. Thank you for posting it.
Butterflies_dont_cry
Member Elite
since 2000-03-06
Posts 3733
Michigan
16 posted 2001-03-11 09:18 PM


I wish I had the words to say how deeply this poem has touched me..I know how difficult this must have been for you to write and how many tears that fall during a post like this...but an amazing things happens when you weave the pain...the silk of healing starts to form...hands of strength and caring reach out to hold us and strangers become friends...this is truly amazing both in content and in voice..the graphic and the music only add to the powerful statement that you made here...may you heal with the grace of an angel and float with the wings of the butterfly...it took me what seems like forever to take back what those before had taken from me...shame and guilt kept me locked inside of myself...poetry gave me the key to release it and to heal...and heal I do...everyday getting a little stronger...my hope is the same for you. Thank you for sharing your heart and soul here...it will be kept safe..I assure you~
Post A Reply Post New Topic ⇧ top of page ⇧ Go to Previous / Newer Topic Back to Topic List Go to Next / Older Topic
All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format.
navwin » Archives » Open Poetry #12 » Winds of Change

Passions in Poetry | pipTalk Home Page | Main Poetry Forums | 100 Best Poems

How to Join | Member's Area / Help | Private Library | Search | Contact Us | Login
Discussion | Tech Talk | Archives | Sanctuary