|Mijn liefde, mijn leven is woorden en familie. Twitter: @MandiBen IG: roodbennett FB: Rood Bennett|
Love and hate is like
yin and yang
the two exist to balance
the other extreme natures.
Oh, i have loved with my soul. Only to have my heart picked at by the carion crows. Those wounds fester and infection of incurable wrath set me on a course, on my path.
Is Love more powerful than hate? Should we ask those in Nice, Paris, België, Germany, and Westminster as of late...is hate these peoples fates feel by murdered mates.
Whilst I love my own sons with unconditional love; I do believe it is the only case in my life of some.
I loved their father until he turned me and himself into heathens. The woman I was filled misery and coldness, regret.
I scare now to think my heart is still fri...
Wrapped up in only each other,
whispered words like thunder
passion's place is upon
lips of lovers embrace.
Slick with a burning fire
steamy words of our desire.
I walk along this path as my adult self but insecurity, self doubt always a mock behind the proverbial scenes.
A body bent, broken, and bleeding and a mind sheltered away in a chasm that few dare climb.
Succeeding and achieving ending up robbed by incessant bleeding; broken limbs or shredded muscles. Only wish is to prove I'm not this disorder!
Always being the easy fool; I look back now at my years at school. They taught me to fight harder and do better; but in my soul it shriveled low.
I have the chance to not muck up my dreams that I have dreamed since small; I REFUSE. Celiac to make me fall. Too much I have lost to my own genetic disease; I refuse to lose ME!
Two Are One
whispers of things to come
distance keeping the two from one,
leaving the cynics to their own
amassing this passion as we sleep
only to stare into abyss of love's keep.
waiting as the days do go by
to continue to count as time does creep.
the heart only swells as each swing
does a pendulum steep.
Slowly the day will come
when two are one and
nay will be gone.
PLEASE FELLOW LETTRISTS READ FOR IMPORTANT INFO
Reason for this letter is another reminder of my life long fight with a genetic auto immune disease that so many Amerikan dokters do not conceive! Below are symptoms below that are "fairly common" in children and adults. Celiac Sprue has more than 200 symptoms that seem random but given time; one of the worst will kill you. My worst was cancer. Today it was my ankle and my osteoporosis. I will cry myself to sleep tonight and feel sorry for myself...but if I can educate even ONE person; I have accomplished a feat!
Some people develop celiac disease as a child, others as an adult. The reason for this is still unknown....
Faith in Many Forms
I make no secret of my disdain for what I see as corruption in the very institutions that will perch and preach; we must this, this, and this because pole numbers bare souls!
I make it no secret my contempt of the monotheistic, misogyny filled relics that are held to vastly so. Self experience with the three made an unbeliever out of me.
Faith is a human trait; it is needed for many things. Love/commitment without faith is a squalid and messy show. When you are given any degree of responsibilty or request; faith in YOU automatically ensues.
What also many so often forget; thousands of years ago, the divine feminine was one who people put faith in. As they gave to na...
I am weary with it. I am sick with it. I am so exhausted with the insanity, anger, and hatred. I have and intend to continue to dedicate myself to eradicating it from my life. Life is too short. One's heart can only heal or break so many times.
Lesson learned, I know enough...there is so much worse then a crush. This stupid thing that is a joke, I understand that it is gone for broke. Pretty lies to tell oneself...charades are done and no more do I come undone.
firmly planted and rooted it seems
that is not how it should be
there is no trust and only shadows
in this place of secluded agony.
giving up the parody and illusion
of a happy scene that unfolds into an eternity.
slowly weaving and seeking solace
within a scene of sanctity of reverent bliss.
Rapturous jubilation has escaped my kiss,
there is wish and even prayers in the spirit
within the deepness of glacial cold.
This thing that passed was foretold.
Keeping tight and pressing forward
disputed and burdened no more.
Feeling the winds of a cherished hold
into an abyss of joyous blessedness.
If I hide shall I be found? If I scream will you be around? If I run do you shy? If I look and I ask will you respond? Memory does me in and I creep inside. Regret kills everything in kind, all ifs and none as this too is done.
I turn my head and I look back at the events that come to pass, as I begin the journey before I contemplate the track it took to reach this proverbial door. Pain a given and anguish yes; there has been tragedy in its wake, as I muddle through many a mistake. Paths seem clear and all the more, but realization at what is in store, I know I have to stand upon that shore, to reach an enlightened space as I do brace to face destiny's score. The/weakness drags down in soul and the clocks will toll, but there shall be a whole. Events will not drag and will roll forward motion to bring us home, as pages will be written in this tome.
Countless nights as warmth and cold come creeping within this bone and meat,
How easily could a predator peak as nearer they come in sleep.
In dreams spoken often is broken by a feeling that all is not right.
Most often the speaker just prattles on but as of late, it is a battle on.
New wounds and bruises not seen before, no understanding of what this is for!
Thoughts of the soul seek freedom from the whole. Heat within seeks conflagration of the mind.Liberation from the chains of silent walls or hissing bits. There is deep gratitude from the constant ego who subjected thy own version of reality or events. Freedom is had and so it shall stay, no speaking out will be attained.
THE SILVER WHEEL
In the Isles of Briton and Eire lived the pantheon of the ekimmu; Arianrhod and her ilk.
There is said to be nine planes of existence but only four have been witnessed. This is a narrative of the fall of those gods and goddesses known as the ekimmu who dwelt in the north on several large islands, the fae kingdoms of Leth`Evana; mortal enemies of ekimmu and deadly creatures this physical plane calls elf. The Shadow realm has many names and is said to be the home of creatures that have no form but feed from all life in all planes; the wraiths.
The last realm was made known after the fall; Terre de Brume, an endless nothing and prison for fallen gods. Death would...
No More Puppets
Loss of two mothers only months apart, my own issue of health... let's not start, sigh. Expected to have accepted second class for grace and brass! Related and supportive friends, the games become blames. Enough is enough; reality and not a beastly scene set in a Nero's burning Rome!!! No more. This is last...a presumed king tries to lull, NON, no more illusion to pull a string!!
PLOTS OF PLUNDER
Grief like the knife to stab in the back; whilst Caesar cries, Et tu, Brute? Assassin divine the next mastermind. Et tu, fratrem? The wielder of the final stroke that left Death to deal. For what would Caesar be without his Brutus slay or Pompey the Great without his Ptolemy XIII? What would be Richard III without his Henry Tudor; who united two roses? Assassins contrivance for enemies subsidence; never to accept the future pit in which corpses rot, remorseless plots to be that did escape a noose or stabbing. Repentance is key but never shall be.
Loving enough to say no
Love worth more than gold
Love to walk hand n hand
Off into the sunset
Leave drama land.
Grief like the knife to stab in the back; whilst Caesar cries, Et tu,Brute? Assassin divine the next mastermind. Et tu, fratrem?
As far as friends; I choose purposely to be without, in real life. The fewer the better in my mind.
It is not to say I do not speak through What'sApp, Messenger, Skype, or the like...but when I came home to Europe; I made a new life.
Before I was a social butterfly and in need of validation through other's opionons that in the end only made me see myself as slime. The old saying do unto others how you'd have done to you! That is a proverb for abuse.
My husband now is as close as I get to a best friend. Truly, I can speak my heart's content but still I guard.
I learned too many a lesson too late. I poured my heart into a friendship that was unevenly yoked from the time I was eighteen ti...