D-WORDSLAYER

  I grew up idolising my father. He was from a ‘good’ family, and went to another land to make a fortune to provide for us in the future.  As the years passed , he became a person I created, resembling a movie hero, bigger than reality. I believed he loved my siblings and I, and one day we would be reunited. Maybe at some point he would make up for the hardship endured by his absence and the strain placed on my mother, our sole parent. It never came. I became a mother , wanting to give all my children the father I thought I was denied. The relationship with their dad and broken promises, were on me, because of me, and in a way I idolised him. He was like my father, from a ‘good family’, and tried to ensure he was there for his children with me - including the one before mine were born.  Even if I was not worthy of promises to be kept, I prayed he would honour all his children. My children loved him, including their brother from another mother. The promises were left stan...

The games of ghosts and scares of the night Are never the ones I wanted to see. The howls of the wolves Or the cooing of the owls The stories in the dark With my sister holding the light Are haunted house visions that give me a fright.   The haunting music that signals a scare And the scary stories at bedtime were never my thing. My sister, however, was much braver than me Eagerly waiting for those shows on TV. She’d keep me up at all hours of the night, Enjoying my squirming, and always sudden flight.   Secretly though, I would happily give My big sister’s longing for moral support. She was always the happiest the scarier the tale. Yet with every review, I would find a way to bail. The haunted houses and stories are just not my thing But I love my big sister, so I stayed with my eyes closed – listening!   27/10/2021   Please share your thoughts, comments, emojis with me! There are no easy buttons but life sure works ...

The memories connect the past and the present. Its an entire story, each life. Sometimes the paragraphs are years ongoing, and suddenly the last words are written. Time and life can seem long but there is a connector between the beginning and end. The connector joins each year seamlessly together, and therein lies our memories.   Let me Connect the years…   When I was six, my world seemed vast The swing was how I travelled fast. At ten and twelve I was ready to live my dreams Believing that my life would be all I wanted it to be. Then when sixteen came around, I left home in a rush My time here on earth was a card game holding a straight flush. Well soon enough came eighteen, with a baby on the way Life had many challenges I was preparing to slay. At twenty had two sons, and wishful dreams of ever after, Five years later those dreams were a disaster! The struggle was real, then I turned twenty-eight, My daughter was brewing, a beautiful baby on ...

                                      The past is never what it appears to be Weighing pros and cons from my reverie. The things gone by are a lesson for life, Moving on with a future, uncertain of luck or strife. As I reflect upon the things, I did in my past These reflections are deep Sometimes showing up for contrast.   Though I try to keep them from coming forward It’s a struggle to not think of how things can have power This journey I walk is always alone For this very reason, ensured I have a home. Reflecting on things I have not managed yet to do Is a reminder that regrets sometimes - do follow you.   I’ve always wanted to be the best mother I could be Not sure if you asked my kids, if they would agree. There is never a day when I’ve forgotten my role As a mother is forever, all over the world. They are older, and no longer holding onto ...

  Photo Credits: unsplash.com/Jason Pognacnik There are rainbows in life that tip the scales They come when life happens When good intentions fail. If suddenly you feel sadness and fear Just remember a rainbow is waiting right there. You see, the rain must fall For the grass to grow, And there must be some weather For the waterways to flow. The thunders must sound to keep us cozy inside There must be some noise To help the little children hide. For the rainbow to come, The rain must subside, Cause looking out through the window The colors will come alive. It’s a symbol of hope And a lesson for folks to see, That even when you cry Eventually, you can be happy. The rainbow only comes forward After the rain is in the past, Its your miracle when life happens To say tough times will never last!     19/03/2021 Eugi’sCauserie weekly prompt is the inspiration for this poem. Share your thoughts with a word or a few in the comments...

                                      Photo Credits: unsplash.com/Joel Muniz Watch Me As I Walk Watch me as I walk My hips may shake a bit These legs they still look strong No heels on to give them a lift My shoulders don't slouch And my waist is a wee bit round But I'm sure you will not notice As I strut and sing my song. I've got the silver streaks My hair has lived through many trips A real natural beauty With some personality From my lips. Watch me as I walk, Confident glow of womanhood at its peak A lifetime journey ,and stories of which I speak My aging has never been in vain A point my look defines I've got the music in my brain Can dance, sing, and you will gaze I can still hold my own on the town Older and wiser, Yes, I have been around! Watch me as I walk See the mystery I’ve been living my life more than breathing I know all the pebbles on the street. You call me grandmother, wife, ...

  Dream Catcher and the Prince Standing above I look at my prince fast asleep. He’s one of my favorites His dreams are memories. The moments he misses With mist filled eyes. A million little kisses From his mom when alive. Dreamcatcher, I am Holder of dreams Happiness and danger And other things that are unseen. I stretch my hand to guide The light towards my charge It’s a wonder he’s even sleeping His happiness is a mirage. Subconsciously my prince knows Sun comes out after rain Hidden deep in his heart He dreams of his mother again. Digging deep into his sleep And my Dreamcatcher’s nest I’m searching for memories To help him find rest. The Dreamcatchers goal Is to help happiness unfold Taking him to God For his mother to hold. His memories feel sadly real And this night will require a disguise I’m hoping his memory mother will visit To hold him till it’s time to arise. I send my silver net Filled with his tears and dreams She whispers to him Telling wonderful stories. As I look a...

                                            Photo Credits: unsplash.com/Ameer Basheer The Champion Yes mom, I see you Doing it all for everyone You make it happen Fixing it best You turn tragedy to triumph Never wavering or giving up I’m breaking the seal on this bottle Taking a glass and toasting to you You are a champion You make it happen Take a rest, I’m with you. Who is the real champion? Is it son number one who Gives it all up to fulfil his mama’s dreams Who takes the burdens of the family Making his mother’s load easy. Who is the real champion? Is it son number two Setting aside his life for a bigger cause Helping his mama to get through The challenges of living Giving time for her to be renewed. Champions are right here with us Don’t struggle outside to see In your home, they are there In your family. Who is the champion that lifts you up And carries your burdens some...

                                             Photo Credits: unsplash.com/Alex Ringer Understanding Life I sit alone and think Wondering about my time here on earth. When we are born It is our death which comes next We walk through this world Not knowing the day, the hour, or the moment, when we will say goodbye. Do you live to die or are dying to live? When life happens, we grow And when death is coming We do not know. Thus, we forget that time is all we have that we hold, purposing ourselves on earth. I sit alone reflecting on, all the folks once judged, maybe also being judged. The unfairness of time, it does not give time for full recompense. There is joy and kindness later on in life, because we learnt from our experiences and lived our lessons well. Can we redo from birth to present? Is there a way to turn back the clock to be- a better human, maybe? Yet the curtain wi...

                  Life is never Picture Perfect! The selfie is a wonderful creation in my opinion. I can set the camera to take that 'perfect pic', positioning myself, lighting, smile, and any other expression. I can delete the ones that look uncomplimentary and anything that spoofs what the public sees.  Life is picture perfect when its presented, and the memories will hide what folks should not see sometimes. Weaknesses and failures are not on display.  Hmm, but life is never picture perfect.  Looking back at the early years, it seems that  now, I'm recalling the heartaches, pains, hurts, and griefs, as the good times, success, and wonderful childhood adventures together. That perfect picture does not exist in my memory. It does not exist in truth.  Balancing on the tightrope is what helps to get to the next level stronger. Its how I became stronger. Accepting the learning from the challenges and setbacks ...

A culture of misinformation I did not know what mental illness really was until I was close to twenty. Before, I thought mental illness was something which resulted from a deficiency at birth and was genetic. This thought scared me as I grew up knowing my mother, grand mother and great grandmother were ‘mad’, as we were told from a tender age. My mother was the first of five children and my grandmother was one of more than five, and my great grandmother was also from a large family. No one told us about mental illness or what caused it or why it happened. I simply thought it was an unfortunate curse on at least one member of the family, and prayed to never 'get it'!  Some of the 'folklore facts' I grew up with were;   If you kept your problems to yourself you would ‘overload’ and go crazy. If you fell too much in love you would go crazy. If you had too many bills you would go crazy. If you had no friends you would go crazy. If you were too ‘bright’ in s...

A Frantic Call "Please help me. She just stood at the door with a knife in hand. I can't live with her anymore." Panic and fear sounded through the phone. Its 2:30 am. (After a lot of drama, she returned to house, as though that call was never made)! There was a lot of uncertainty when that call was received. Did it really happen, or was my mother  creating a situation because she did not get what she wanted from my elder sister? Was it a hallucination - it happens a lot more with her aging. Trying to figure out truth from fiction with mentally ill people can be hard.  In this case, it was a variation of the truth. My sister claims she thought someone was outside, and armed herself, while questioning mom about a scholarship she never received. As for my mother, she ran out of the house into the darkness afraid for her life, as my sister followed - afraid for her. Does this make sense? No it does not, but it happened just over a year ago.  According to Google, ...

You are invited to look closer My friends I'm sharing a series of blogs called "Open Book - Mental Illness" from tomorrow. It's a heavy topic but is a serious social issue in the Caribbean and the world.  There are many families with loved ones who have some form of mental illness. My friend  Lisa Fraser Gallagher  has shared on her personal experiences with mental illness and she is an excellent resource on this topic.  In my fam ily one of my sisters and my mother are mentally ill. Like any other disease if you are unaware of the symptoms, left untreated it gets worse. There is no cure for mental illness. It can be managed, however not many people are willing to accept their loved ones are mentally ill. In Trinidad & Tobago there is societal acceptance of mentally ill behavior once no one is physically hurt. Hence, we have many street dwellers and vagrants living a homeless life by choice because of their mental illness.  To offer help to ...

Many of us have the privilage to be called Mom, either because we gave physical birth or because we loved som eone enough to be called Mom.  Being in a state of mommyness is everlasting and is something many of us have as a big part of that nurturing spirit we choose to embrace. Being a mommy aka mom aka mamee aka mother goes beyond one day, indeed it can take a lifetime to fullfill that honorable role and still be giving. There is no perfection in being a mom, as we can be boh loved and hated , revered and revolted against by those we call our own. As mom, we have a great capacity for forgiveness, sharing of wisdom and selflessness.  On this day, I'm not interested in all the fancy declarations of love and simultaneous good wishes and commercialization of the essence of being mom. Instead, I am humbled by the enormity of the task we all undertake, as caretakers of the human race. I'm remembering those who came before me, cried before me, spread love before me...