Into rhythm

 

 

406f5c1bc2527e664b5874bc77d77ec7

 

Her leg held high, the line of her body
balletic, her arm cradling her head
Before sweeping it across the floor
moving to her chest, covering the
heart beating wildly beneath her skin

Her feet strapped in patent stilettos
her legs articulated on the boards
and he drew beside her,  feathering
fingers on her bare waist

She stilled, drawing the back of her hand
across his cheek as they embraced
Intricate, complex their bodies entwined

Fervidly the drums beat
until their breathing synchronised

Copyright JMTacken 13.6.2014

 

I wanted to write outside of the circle that I’m in at the moment. A thank you to all of you for supporting me and continuing to read. I will try and read and comment on your posts whenever I can. x

Chat time – the good the bad and the ugly

Perhaps if it were a full moon last night, I would understand my mood yesterday. Alas it wasn’t, but mood swings strike at even given moment with me. I wonder if others are the same?

I wasn’t prolific in my writing, I thought I would save you all from my moaning and groaning, when there are others far worse off than I.

Last Saturday I took my penguins to a funeral – Catholic ~ one and a half hours of workout, sit,kneel,stand. I am not religious but I stood when was required as I do not mock or disregard other peoples faith.

Pop and mum sat as it was too much for them to stand each time and pop was having a particularly bad day walking and on his legs.

There was one amusing incident, when the priest rang the bells, mum tuttered loudly, I asked what was wrong, she answered someone has their mobile phone on….ok bless.

As I struggled holding mums hand and onto pops walker, so we could walk up the slight incline to see the wife of the deceased (a friend of pops for 40 years) dad started to cry and said ” I’ll be seeing my mate soon” … Yes that started me, so with held back tears I walked them slowly to the car.

During the service which was quite beautiful, the priest read a piece that George (dec) had written for his own eulogy.

He was 88 and had trouble walking, like Pop. He passed in his sleep, may he RIP.

This got me thinking and I asked Pop if he would consider writing something for his Eulogy, that I could read (if I’m able) he agreed and now has written over 1000 words about his life. He acknowledges that it needs to be ‘culled’ edited, but he wants to write it and I am so very proud of him. Who better to write about their life than the person I ask.

I conducted my 1st burial last Wednesday in 40c heat, it wasn’t pleasant, but the family were lovely and invited me back for refreshments and got a chair for me and drinks and sandwiches.

6 children in the family, 19 grandchildren and 29 great grandchildren, who let balloons off at the burial site. Despite the horrific conditions, it was beautiful to witness.

I received a call after I wrote my 2 pieces yesterday and I have another burial next Wednesday, this will be my 8th. A disabled man who passed at the age of 48. To get to know the family’s, their story, their lives, is what makes this calling so worthwhile to me.

So in finishing my chat today, thank you for bearing with me yesterday, for putting up with this Aussie who can be very melancholy one minute and high as a kite the next.

I will get there, I know I will, especially with the support and love of those who continue to read me and I thank each and everyone of you for your kindness, encouragement and unwavering support.

It truly means a lot to me, you are not just readers in different parts of the world, you are my neighbours, my friends, my confidants and you get me through the good the bad and the ugly.

Know that if you need me, I am here for you too, in whatever capacity I can be.

Thank you my virtual friends and those I have met in person ~ I think the world of you and love you.

xxx

asylum (Prose)

5c3ed3036e7fd4f17248d541f31d916e

imprisoned, boundaries held strong
I was weak
or so they said
a past i can’t forget
I walked these halls
once

I crave the life
the taste of chocolate on my tongue
cloistered in a world I wanted
not one they thought I needed

shackled to ensure complacency
battling inner thoughts
succumbing to taunts
of those who glared and sat alone

my every move watched
‘guards’ patrolled the halls in pairs
tormenting
noses turned down to the likes of us
uncaring

despondent
I knew who I was, yet did not
tears spilt on linoleum
nails scratched walls
digging deep
willing my escape

waiting for release
“God I screamed if you exist”
how much can I stand
cease the pain inflicted

rubber forced into my mouth
volts that surged, my body jolts
left in comatose like state
passages of time not clear

save me
let me breathe
vacant eyes
no one visits
abandoned
enslaved to persecution

pushed shoved at their discretion
my footsteps slow
across the floor
jacket buckled at the back
give me courage

I tried
I did
succumbed to those
who forced the pills
they killed me in the end
inside unhallowed corridors

©JMTacken jan 2014

Shared with http://mindlovemisery.wordpress.com  Prompt 39 – Unwanted Reality

 

This piece was produced with the help of Brian Miller who runs in conjunction with others Dverse. Thank you Brian for your guidance, support and encouragement.