Paradise Lost

This morning I was watching a follow-up story on the fire that destroyed Paradise, CA.   It was told from the viewpoint of the Paradise High School football team, who were expecting to practice the day after the fire in preparation for the playoffs.  It followed a couple students in their first visits to the rubble of the homes they left.   It was poignant and sad and a reminder of the similarity of stories post-Katrina, after Hurricane Harvey, Michael, Maria,  and after so many other natural disasters that occur every damn day.   The stories are hauntingly similar and at the same time, a reminder of what community can do.  While these boys were unable to take their team to the playoffs because all but a handful of players was displaced, they were able to remain strong and move forward despite the tremendous battle ahead, placing finding homes above the glory of a potential title. The true spirit of team and family.

I have heard so many people after this disaster and others ask, why anyone lives in these disaster-prone areas.   Such callous words that come from a lack of understanding until it happens to you.    It is easy to sit by the glow of your computer and cast judgement on people who have lost everything when you have never experienced the kind of loss that we and these communities have.   The thing about mother nature is, she is not selective.  It is not a matter of if, but when.   There is no safe place from the wrath of natural disaster.  Those of us who live in places such as these, do understand the risk, but to expect us to pick up and leave our communities, our lives and our history, is just unreasonable.  We all live where we live and none of us our immune to the wrath of mother nature.

I cried as I watched the story because the wounds of Katrina are still not completely healed.  Every time another community is destroyed by disaster, we are reminded of our own losses and of strength we didn't know we had.   For some, we are reminded of how we feel for not being impacted, feeling helpless and guilty because we didn't lose anything.    But in between the human spirit rises.  Whether we become strong to recover or strong to help, disasters which destroy homes and towns, bring out the best in humanity.  It unfortunate that we have to lose Paradise to find our humanity.  

I hope and pray that those who read this will never have to suffer the losses, some the ultimate loss,  that families in Paradise did.  I also hope that those who didn't can find compassion for those who did.   

Peace and blessings for a better 2019 to all of us.~TLP

Pondering the Mysteries

Sometimes when I am alone in the quiet of the early morning I ponder the great mysteries of the universe.  I am sure I am not the only one who does this.   In this fast paced, interconnected world, it’s easy to get lost in the noise.   I ran across this poem I wrote sometime last year that must have been penned during one of those quiet moments when the noise disappeared and I was left with my thoughts.  

In moments like these, 

Just before dawn

I wonder if I 

Am where I belong

If the life

That I live

Is what was meant for me

Is our fate sealed 

Or are we masters of our 

Own destiny?

How do we really know

At the end of the day

And why are we so

Afraid

Of the answer

We drift day to day

And wonder why we are disillusioned 

With life

With love

With ourselves

We live in our past

And shake hands

With our regrets

Everyday

As life swiftly passes by

And we search for the one thing

That will fill the empty place

Created by a longing

For something 

We didn't even know we needed.

~Peace, Tracy

Copyright 2018 TLP

Life in Transition

Boxes, tape secured over the seams, line the garage of my parents home, the result of the decision to rent the home we grew up in now that my dad is gone and my mom lives in a private care facility.
As I walk through the yard and the halls of the only home my parents ever owned I can hear the echos of the days long gone. Christmas mornings, waiting for everyone to get up so we can open our presents, evenings at the dinner table where we broke bread as a family, sharing the couch to watch TV together. Laughter, tears, anger, fear, love, hope, and faith all emanate from these walls now painted and ready for a new young family who will love our home as much as we and our parents did.

It took me a week to take the first batch of boxes out of my truck and look inside. The wonderful family moving into our home took great care to box things up and label them based on who the items belonged to or which items had been spoken for. I chose to have all of the items related to my father’s love of flying boxed up for me. Now looking at the near complete model airplane he planned to fly, takes me back to the times when we went along on the days he would gather with his buddies, all with a love of flying, to watch those planes take off, land, and often crash. I had to unload it all, there were more things to transport. The transition was not over.

As my friend and I broke down the concrete table and benches from my parents back yard to load and transport to it’s next home under the great live oak tree in my back yard I couldn’t decide whether to leave the concrete base, that had been poured right there in the yard, behind. I had decided I could create a new base but I took one last look. As I stared down at that perfectly square piece of concrete, I saw the initials JJM and the date 5/2006 scrawled in the concrete. This was my dad's work, the  signature of his labor and his love for my mom. This will live on in my backyard where I will always be reminded of him and how much he means to us.

It seems that after all is said and done, this is how a life transitions. Boxes, wrapped with tape, labeled and divided and distributed. But what I realized in it all, is that the boxes are simply vessels to carry things that represent memories of our loved ones. It is up to us to keep the memories alive, every day. I plan to sit at the really cool concrete table, listen to the birds, and have a coffee with my dad.

Peace - TLP

K + 12 - A Brutal Reminder

On this 12th Anniversary of Hurricane Katrina's devastation of the MS Gulf Coast and New Orleans, we are mourning.    Not for ourselves, but for the people of Texas impacted by Hurricane Harvey.  As we watch the news, we have seen the devastating wind, the unprecedented flood, and the anguish of the people.   Our hearts break for them, just as ours broke after Katrina.    

What we learned in Katrina, and what Texans are already learning, is that as you watch the life you built wash away, you cling to what is left:  Love, Faith and People.  You will be prayed for, wished positive thoughts, and have millions of donations made to support your recovery now and for days, months and years to come.   Strangers will descend upon your communities with only one purpose; to help struggling Texans recover and rebuild.   In the times of your deepest despair you will realize that the most important thing is community and the relationships you have with your friends and family and that in joining together you will be strong.   There is no color, no social status;  just people, recovering  from what will likely be the most devastating event you have ever seen.  While it is hard to see the positive right now, in each day that follows, you will have moments when even the smallest of things bring a smile to your face.  It might be the sun peeking through the clouds, a child's laughter, the gentle touch of a helping hand on your shoulder, but it will come.   You will discover that when the chips are down, you can depend on one another and that, there is love, kindness and caring in every single person.

Hang on Texas.  You are brave and strong beyond measure.  Know that selfless love and kindness is coming your way.  It will continue to help you through the coming days, months and years.  May you find comfort in the thought that those of us over here in Mississippi and Louisiana, know and feel your pain and are with you in spirit, praying for your safety and recovery.

Peace

K + 11 - Remembering What We Gained

Yesterday a friend of mine posted a set of  videos created by a local resident after Katrina.  They were a compilation of what was before and the complete and utter devastation of what was left (or more pointedly, what was not left) after Katrina came to our coast that day in August, 2005.  My friend commented, as I did, how unprepared she was for the emotion that watching those videos stirred.  I found myself back on evacuation day, sitting paralyzed in my house trying to figure out what to pack, knowing that whatever we left behind, would likely be gone.   As I continued watching, I remembered like it was yesterday, the long 13 hour evacuation to Perry, FL with our rag tag band of people, pets and boats, scared when we were barely to Mobile after five hours.   At one of our rest stops, the Florida rest area just before Escambia Bay, the scene was one that I could only describe as a cross between the Twilight Zone and Apocalypse now.  We were all weary, anxious, zombies.   So many people, headed East, many with no destination but a singular purpose to get away from Katrina.  When it was all said and done the devastation and loss of life was staggering.   But amidst the devastation, the miracle was what happened next.    We came together as a community bound by a common enemy that was Katrina and it brought about a unity not seen in all the years that I have lived in South Mississippi.   There was no color, no social status;  just people, recovering from likely the most devastating event most of us will ever see.   In joining together, we became strong.  We overcame and rebuilt together.   We re-established a sense of what was important and it wasn't what we lost, but what we found that day and in the days, months and even years after Katrina passed.   We discovered that when the chips are down, we can depend on one another and that deep in our hearts there is love, kindness and caring in every single one of us.  My hope is that each year as this anniversary comes and goes, we not forget this valuable realization.    :-) Peace   
#katrina #unity  #MSGulfCoast

K+10

We have arrived at the 10th anniversary of Katrina.   After this much time has passed, I find myself at a loss for words.   But I found a short unfinished poem I wrote right after Katrina and decided to finish it.  I thought it appropriate to share it at this milestone.   As I sit here sipping on my signature margarita, the Katrinarita, I am sobered by and in awe of the incredible force of mother nature. But, more awesome in it's power is the resiliency of the human spirit.  We didn't just survive Katrina, we rose up, recovered, restored and thrived.    Never forget.

Surreal it seems,
it's but a dream,
from which I soon 
will wake.

Any day I'll find
my home is mine,
not scattered
beyond my reach.

But from the ruin
a new strength comes
from somewhere
deep inside.

It brings the will
not just to survive,
But to rise and
then to thrive.

I write this blog to remind me of the lessons I took from Katrina.    Possessions can be replaced and in the grand scheme are unimportant.  He who has the most toys does not win.   The love and loyalty of family and true friends is eternal and even in the ebb and flow of life, on this we can always count.   In our journey we are shaped by the people and events we encounter and sometimes, in tragedy, we are made whole.

Peace :-)

Copyright TLP 2015

 

The New Orleans Saints and the WhoDat Nation:  Why it matters to us!

Last weekend while watching the Saints play the Philadelphia Eagles in a wildcard road playoff game, I was taken aback by the number of people from this area pulling for the Eagles.  Not because they liked the Eagles particularly, but they just wanted to see the Saints lose. When I pressed for a reason, there was nothing concrete but they were sick of hearing about the Saints and the WhoDat nation.   Now having been a Saints fan for a really long time, I really don't get that because the majority of fans are not obnoxious.  We are long standing and long suffering fans who have been there pulling for our team even during the days of the paper bag.  We didn't stop supporting them even though they  were not a good team for a really long time.  They had their moments and often had great players but never seemed to be able to put together the whole package.   That all changed and when it did, the Saints pulled off something that the faithful knew one day would happen.   They won the Superbowl.

Although winning a Superbowl is old hat for some teams and for some fans, what I don't think they realize about the Saints and their Superbowl win was just how monumental that was, especially because of the timing.   In 2005, New Orleans and the Gulf Coast region was devastated by Hurricane Katrina.  Many lives were lost and with a mass exodus of the population away from the devastated area, a community became fractured.  It seemed like there wasn't anything that would put it back together but   when the Saints returned to the Superdome for their first home game after Katrina, they brought back a sense of hope to this shattered area and breathed life back into the city and the community.   This community, this WhoDat nation, became united, not just in the promise of a winning team, but in the promise that we could overcome the devastation of Katrina.    We were able to immerse ourselves in watching them play while we took time to heal the wounds and rebuild.  It allowed us to escape for a few hours every Sunday from the ruin and loss that we were all reeling from.   As each year post-Katrina passed, the Saints continued to give us hope and a dream; a dream that a realistic run for the Superbowl was coming.    And when the Saints delivered that with a win at Superbowl XLIV, the WhoDat nation, this community of Saints fans healed.  Maybe we didn't heal completely, but we healed   Because in the years during the run for the superbowl, we got through weekend by weekend, looking forward to those games and during the offseason, looking forward to the football season to come.   It gave us something to focus on that was positive and uplifting.  And the Saints showed us that we could all overcome the adversity brought to us by Katrina.   As for me, I believe.   It doesn't matter to me that you don't, I only ask that you look at the people who call themselves Saints fans  and understand why it matters so much.   The Saints are not just a football team to us and the Who Dat Nation is not just a fan base.  We are a community.  We are survivors.  We are a family.   A family of believers.  Last weekend, the Saints did something that had not happened in the their history.   We won a playoff game on the road and overcame yet another monkey on our back.    So, We believe:  We believe in the hope, healing and goodness that can be brought on by caring about  a little game called football and in a team called the New Orleans Saints.     Can I get a Who Dat and an Amen?

Don't Blink

As I reflect on the last two weeks of celebrating my 50th birthday, which culminated in the completion of a six week fitness boot camp with amazing results along with the best birthday party ever, I find myself blue as the deep ocean.   At first there seemed to be no particular reason that I could  put my finger on other than that after a great week of awesome accomplishments, activities and visits from friends and family, Monday arrived as if on queue to rain on the parade.   I  considered the possibility that turning 50 really is bothering me;  after all it is the age of AARP, discounts and being over the hill; But finally, I realized it is something more like what happens when people are spared in a great tragedy but their neighbors are not.   There is guilt, not rational, but it is there just the same.   I know someone that  won't see their fiftieth birthday and I want to give them lives or extra moves the way I can when I play Candy Crush.   Because it just seems so wrong that they won't be able to line dance the Cupid Shuffle, bust a move to Stevie B or  throw jello shots to friends in the pool who came to the big 5-0 celebration.  

My awesome friend Janine called a couple days after my birthday to give me best wishes.  She  asked me if I had made a resolution on turning 50.   I was puzzled and told her I  really had not thought about it but now I have, because  tomorrow is not guaranteed.  One day the final bell will ring and school will be out forever.    But until it does,  I resolve to smile,  be kind, be positive, and find the silver lining in every cloud and look upon each day as a gift filled with possibilities.  I will cherish every moment and try to be an inspiration to others.  We only get so many trips around the sun.   This girl is going to put on some shades and enjoy the ride..... and I won't blink.  50 years goes faster than you think.....  :-) Peace -  Tracy

Mudpies and Mimosas

I went out for a quick run today and as I rounded the first quarter mile I was overcome by a familiar scent.  It had been well before Katrina the last time I remember it but for a moment it
took me even further back.  As I look up to see the heavily flower-laden mimosa bough hanging over the track,  I flashed back to my backyard the summer we moved into our house, no longer rented but owned by my parents.    I am ten years old again and the sound of my mom's voice fills my ears.    "Go outside and play", she always said.   Coincidentally, it was always  go outside, because she loathed a dirty house but that's another story for another day.   I am sitting under the Mimosa tree, taking in the mild, sweet smell of the pink flowers.  My hands are muddy and I have picked some perfect sized leaves from one of the bushes in our yard.   I have carefully shaped and kneaded the mud into the yummiest looking mud pies anyone has ever laid eyes on.     Next the pies go onto the big leaves and sit in the sun to cook.   While the pies are roasting in the mid-day sun, I am off to the ditch to build a damn with my friends from the neighborhood (Donna, Bert, Marvin, Cindy, Lee and others).  There are some pretty cool things in the ditch and that ditch which seemed like the grand canyon to me then is small now that I am grown, but oh the times we had playing in the ditch and then running through the field to one of our many "forts" and later to grab the football and play a game in the street or shoot baskets at Donna's house.   We didn't go home until dark and if school was out, well after dark.  But, (my sisters and brother will remember this well) when it was time to come in, it was through the garage, dropping all but our undies at the door and straight to the bath.   The scent of Mimosa today, reminds me how simple our lives were then and every now and then what we wouldn't give to go back to that simplicity when the only care in the world was whether the mud-pies overcooked.   My mom hated that tree and eventually it was cut down to make room for a gigantic satellite dish.  I will always remember that tree.   I am not a parent, but if I were, I would try to take time to share these simple things with my children, to teach them different ways to have fun and to use their imagination because in the imagination anything is possible.... and it's just dirt, it will wash off!!   :-) Peace  -T

United We are Strong

I thought, even promised myself that on the fifth anniversary of Katrina, would be the last time I would write about it.   But yesterday, nearly 8 years past Katrina, I really thought I had moved beyond the trauma, but as I watched the events in Moore, OK unfold  and saw the devastation I was reminded that those wounds may never heal. I recognized the shell shocked look in victims faces, the anguish of families awaiting word on missing loved ones and pets, and recalled the uncertainty of what was ahead. Yet while tears ...well up as I read the stories and look at the pictures, I am also reminded, that in these times of great tragedy is also when the human spirit prevails and we discover what the most important things are. As we stand in the absence of our material things, we are once again a community, united by a steadfast faith that we will rise above the event that has brought us to this place where we find our true friends and reset our priorities. It is not about nor has it been about the things we have but the people in our lives that make us whole. I vowed to never forget that lesson after Katrina. And in the wake of this tragedy in Moore, OK and the other towns impacted by devastation, I re-avow to never forget. Let those of us who survived, rebuilt, and prevailed after Katrina, send our thoughts and prayers to the community in OK and reach out to help them the way communities around this country reached out to us and show us why united we will always be stronger than any one of us standing alone.    Peace    TP - 5/21/13

Chasing Rainbows

Yesterday I found myself with a half day off so I made a quick trip to my hometown.  As I was leaving to head home I got stuck behind a string of slower cars.  This forced me to slow down a bit at spot in the road where I would have been speeding up like a horse to the barn at the end of a long trail ride.  I caught myself looking left to a familiar turnoff but it took me a moment to realize why it was so familiar.  Suddenly I was seventeen again.  Summer was in full swing and me, my boyfriend Johnny and our best friend Joey were riding around listening to  music just after a thunderstorm had passed through.   As we looked to the south we saw the most beautiful rainbow.   It spanned the sky and it looked like the end was so close  that we took off to find it,  because well, you know, we just had to see if we could find that pot of gold.  

We turned down the road and wound around until we could see the rainbow dipping down from the sky and into the woods to our right.   The end of it couldn't have been more than a couple hundred feet from the road so we pulled off, climbed the fence and trekked in.   But by the time we reached the spot where the end of the rainbow should have been, we couldn't see it anymore.    We laughed and joked about how the leprechaun that guards the pot of gold had moved it so we couldn't find it.   But of course there isn't a pot of gold.... or is there?   

We may never know really, but something about this memory stirred me.    Achieving our dreams is a lot like chasing rainbows.    We pursue them, make goals to reach them, and sometimes even realize them.  But it is seldom easy and sometimes we get discouraged because we get to the place where we the end of our rainbow should be and it's not there.      And the thing is, just because you don't see the pot of gold doesn't mean that it isn't there.     Along the way, things interact with our journey, veering us off course and sending us to a spot that can be slightly or way off our target.    Timing and circumstance can take us in  different direction and divert us from the pursuit of our dreams, but we shouldn't let that stop us from chasing them, just like at seventeen we didn't let it stop us from looking for that pot of gold.

As we grow older we sometimes become more cynical.   I am reminded that we don't have to be.   The things that inspired us when we were younger are still here every day;   Rainbows, the smell of the rain on a summer' day, morning dew on a spider's web, the sound of the ocean in a conch shell...

I am still in awe every time I see the sunset or look up at the star filled night sky.    I am convinced if I don't lose that awestruck wonder I had as a child, I will never grow old and I will alway be able to keep sight of my dreams.   So, I for one am going to keep chasing rainbows, even when they seem just beyond my grasp.

Peace! 

I have written a lot of poetry in the last 25 years. I was fairly prolific in the 80s and then again in the late 90s and into to 2000 and beyond. Sad to say I lost all my poems I wrote in the 80s. To be able to look at them again would be great, I can even remember some of them sort of , but unfortunately not well enough to reproduce. But then again maybe, they were meant to go the way of the fish with Katrina and never been seen by the world..

The following is a poem I wrote in Novemeber of 2005, just a few months after Katrina. I was living in a motor home waiting for housing and was going a bit mad, to put it lightly. This is a small expression of the place I was at that time. 

Losing It

It creeps in slowly,
almost unnoticed,
wrapping you in numbness.
Then it happens
at once.
The betrayal,
unexpected
bad timing.

The tears come slowly
at first,
then streams like rivers
down your face, your body
wracked in sobs.

You shut tight your eyes
and try to wish it away,
this unwanted visitor of
your
broken mind,
overcome by the gray
film of depression

TLP Nov 2005

Peace :-)

K + 5 - Moving Beyond

Revisiting this post from last year:

It's 8:00 pm on 28 August 2010.    Five years ago today, we were on the road to Perry, FL and only a mere 4 hours into our evacuaton.    We had not yet even made it to Mobile from from Pass Christian  and though, we did eventually make our destination after 13 hours in a caravan of two cars, two trucks, two boats, 6 cats, a dog, and 6 humans and a sea of humanity surrounding us, what I witnessed on the road I can only describe as a cross between the Twilight Zone and Apocalypse Now.

We managed an hour nap before getting up to watch on TV as the storm rolled in,  making landfall at Pass Christian/Bay St. Louis on 29 August 2005.    I can't even begin to describe what I was going through during the drive, later as we watched what we knew deep down was the end of things as we knew them  and how I felt (how all of us felt) when we returned.   It is and was a place I do not want to revisit save for the reunions and it is a place I pray we never have to visit again.  

So, today it is time to  focus on spirit, friendship and renewal.  And, dare I say, it is time to move on, at least for me anyway.

I often wonder where we would be if not for Katrina because I know we all had plans.  Everyone knows what I am talking about.   There are things we expected to do in those coming years and yes, if not for Katrina we might have done them and we might still have our things, our homes, the places we had before.....   But for me,  it is what we wouldn't have had  for which I am most grateful to Katrina.    GRATEFUL????    How can I be grateful when I (we) lost everything?   Oh, there is so much.....

Katrina's destruction was extensive, uninmaginable....  unfathomable if you had not seen it first hand.  There is no picture or film that can truly capture the devastation as seen by the survivors and we are all survivors.   

But.... in that devastation we discovered things.   Not material things though.  Intangibles...

We found a strength within us that we never new existed or most have never had to look for.    

We realized our true friends.   We know who will  be there even  in the darkest of days.

We discovered  an indomitable spirit that is our community, our Gulf Coast.   We came together to rise above an adversity like no other.

We found ourselves...hopefully to never be lost again.

Peace
:-)  T

Tattered Memory - Poetry

Making the big push to finish my poetry book this year.    Here is another completed poem.   35 complete with 15 in the queue to finish and then, magic, a book!!!
Tattered Memory

I am a placeholder...
a bookmark
in the transition of
another's life.
When I am replaced
the page I am on
will be turned.

New stories will
be written
And I will slowly fade
into the past,
like so many other tales
that are read
and forgotten.

Someday,
the book will be opened,
and the faded,
dog-eared page
will invoke a smile
of the memories
written there
and I will be remembered
once again,
a devoted,
true friend.

@copyright, all rights reserved 2010 TLP

R.I.P Randy Brooks (BR)

Sitting here surrounded by strangers on this four hour flight on my return to Mississippi  I  find myself thinking about precious time;

On Thursday I learned of the death of a former classmate and friend, Randy Brooks, affectionately know as BR to all of us rockheads from the geology department at USM.   As a freshman in my first semester, I found myself at a party held at the house where BR and Pettway lived. With braces and pigtails (yes, really) I walked into the kitchen where BR was blending strawberry daquiris.   Before he handed me one, he looked at me in all seriousness but with a wry little smile and asked if he could see my driver's license.   From there out for the rest of my college career and still among friends from the program, I was and am known as driver's license (DL), thanks to BR.   BR was an amazing soul with a heart of gold who would give you the shirt off his back if you needed it.    He was hilariously funny and always smiling with a contagiousness that no matter your mood, you couldn't help but be happy.

Although it has been years since I have seen him, the news of his death hit me hard.  Harder than I would have expected.   I suppose because we are all getting older and the chance of losing a friend grows every day.  Now, as I confront my own mortality,  I am reminded that life is short and tomorrow is not guaranteed. It is my hope that we will all strive to live a life that matters, live each day to its fullest and hope that along the way we make a difference in someone's life the way BR made a difference in all of ours.  Godspeed BR, you will be missed.

To the people in my life who are making a difference in mine, know that you are loved and always in my thoughts.
Peace, T

Mind Games

She stood inside the doorway

staring at the empty street,

Wondering if she had the strength

to leave and not get weak.

She was broken, bruised and battered,

but she could not give control

to one who claimed to love her

but didn't see she mattered.

She'd waited far too long

to take this final step

on her long journey to freedom

from the secrets that were kept.

©Tracy Patman 2010

Back in the Saddle

So yeah... It's been 6 months since I wrote anything here! It's not that I haven't had anything to say, it's just I have been immersed in a project that has my brain locked down. It has completely zapped the creativity out of me! I am hoping coming back here and writing a few words will bring me back to the center and help me find some balance.

So here is a snippet of poetry that I have not yet finished. I am publishing a book this year if I ever get off my butt and finish all these snippets. :-)

No Time for Apologies

It's too late to apologize
for words spoken in anger
the wheels have begun to turn
the past can't be undone

Life comes at you fast
and sometimes you must,
take a leap of faith
and hold on for all your worth

It may not always take you
to the place you want to be
but with patience it will get you
what you need today

copyright 2009 TLP

Climbing the Right Mountain

I am always moving, always doing, always, always....There are many mountains in this world that we have opportunities to climb. In the pursuit of our dreams we strive to reach the top of our chosen mountain. Sometimes we find ourselves on plateaus or in valleys and seemingly no way to move forward or go up. But think about it...... There is a purpose to the temporary slow downs on our climb to the top. It is in these moments that significant events are going on and if we speed to the top, we will never experience these events. There are people in our lives that we need to know, and if we go to fast to our goals, those moments with the people we love the most, will be lost forever. Also, in the experience of being in the plateaus or valleys smelling the flowers and enjoying moments with the people we love, we may determine there is a different peak we were meant to climb. The slowdown is not always failure but oppurtunity to turn a different way, and maybe, just maybe, the right way. Peace

6 A.M.

it's 6am
the alarm is blaring
and I must wake
from dreaming
of a beautiful man
with six-pack abs
cuz the kids are screaming.

And I drag myself
from the warmth
of the cover
extracting myself
from the arms
of my lover.

And I find
the house empty.

Where are the kids,
I thought I heard
screaming.
And where is the lover,
that was under
the cover.

It's 6am
the alarm is blaring
and I must wake up
because I find
I am staring
into a dream
of what
should have been.

Copyright 2008 Tracy Patman -

The Daily Grind - And I Don't Mean Coffee!!!

I'm inside a box,
bound with twine.
It helps neither to pray
nor to whine.
My captors torment me
with tasks so mundane,
I can't think in color
or play in the rain.
Creativity is frowned on,
punished sometimes.
and it's even a struggle
to come up with this rhyme.
I beg for release
though I doubt it will come.
So my only solace
comes from my mind,
where I dream of white beaches
and a place to hide,
from the every day stress
that is this grind.

copyright 2007 - TLP