A Poem called "History"

An angel whispered in my ear
And told me of you
He said I need u like a heart needs a beat
Remember u and all we do
Write it, think of it, our history revisited

Put me right next to you
I wanna put my fingers in your hair
Kiss u till ur eyes roll back
Put my face up in your neck and breath

Heart in hand I give u me
I've been looking so long
We kissed as new friends
We kissed as lovers found
As we danced our lips parted
I found home in ur mouth, in ur arms
As we danced I found remnants of u,
Deep in my heart

Put me right next to you
I wanna put my fingers in your hair
Kiss u till ur eyes roll back
Put my face up in your neck and breath

Let's go to bed
Watch me as I undress, I know u do
Kisses are the sweetest drink
I want it I need it
Touching u like its the first time
Mmmm, how we love

Put me right next to you
I wanna put my fingers in your hair
Kiss u till ur eyes roll back
Put my face up in your neck and breath

Rivers rolling I'm under water
I just wanna see ur face first
Breaking water I gasp
I see u, my mind is at rest

Put me right next to you
I wanna put my fingers in your hair
Kiss u till ur eyes roll back
Put my face up in your neck and breath

Remember our history
Reveal it, learn from it
It lives in us
I love it

Put me right next to you
I wanna put my fingers in your hair
Kiss u till ur eyes roll back
Put my face up in your neck and breath

I love U

Stress

My My look at me in the mirror,
The edges of my being, are frayed The tip of my soul is tattered
My My look at me in the mirror.

I'm all confused at this stress
It cuts into my life
I need to just sheaf the knife
This stress continues in my life

Its tangled,
Its a jumbled mess
The thoughts betray me
Which way is up
Which end of the knot
Should I start with first.

Be quiet now
Its time to apply the medicine
Hug ur soul smooth the edges,
Un-tie the knot
Its time to take a break

No No not run away
Simply take a break
Or as some would say
Let's take a vac`a

Happy Birthday Seth

I wanted to wish my son Seth the happiest birthday possible this coming Friday!!!!

I love you Seth and you are such a loving boy, with a big heart and great smile. I miss you and think about you all the time.

Have a great birthday and my present is on its way to you.

Pain

This is about pain I have experienced and pain I have championed. It amazes me how long it takes to find peace in our life. You see in my mind peace in your life can not be done in one swift move. I have found you must find those areas in life that peace has evaded and fix them one at a time. Just like the one I will now describe.

I live in Orchard Pond apartment homes. They are fairly new and my brother Mike and I think we are moving up in the world. Orchard Pond is in Gaithersburg Maryland.


I'm about 12 years old and I have my very first paper route. My first job didn't last to long for a couple of reasons. The first and foremost was the ungodly hour of the morning you had to get up and secondly with it being my first job I was so scared when he went over what and how I was supposed to run the route, that I only logged about 1/10th of the directions he gave me. I ended up getting major complaints and knew it was just a matter of time till I was toast.

I had finished my last day delivering papers on a Sunday which was yesterday and was up getting ready for school. I was happy. I was 12 so what else should I be.

School was wonderful and not for the reasons you may think. School was sanctuary for me. It was my haven, my safe place. My step mother was not a nice person to me. She enjoyed herself with me the most and my brother was usually left untouched. For some reason she preferred to torture me over my brother. My guess is she just didn't like me and my Mikey was just to little and the baby. School protected me from her for the better part of the day and I only had to remain small for the few hours needed to get me to the time my father came home from work.

Have you ever met a person who you could tell enjoyed the pain they caused to another. She was a vampire and fed off of fear and pain. I figured it out one day when by accident when I saw her smirk at one of my reactions to something she did to me. The realization that showed in my eyes of what she was she saw in my eyes as well. First the fact of being caught smirking flashed thru her face so fast you could have missed because she was a pro. The following flash showed fear of denouncement and the fact she was discovered was not so easy to hide. She was a true vampire in every sense of the word.

Her face told all once you figured her out. The sometimes subtle pleasure that would flame up in her eyes as she enforced her will upon you, to the shear anger and rage that went thru her face one morning in the Orchard Pond apartment homes.


I was happy like I was telling you and was ready for school. I brushed my teeth put on my Montgomery Wards sale rack shirt and pants. I was thinking about the second record I bought was the coolest in the world. The other day which was Sunday, I bought the record with my remaining paper route money. It was Herbie Hancock's 12 inch titled "Rocket".

Smiling as I exited my room which was right across the hallway from the guest bathroom, with my Dad's room that he shared with the vampress was just a little farther down and at the end of the hallway. I exited my room and made the right to head towards the dining room that was connected to the hallway and stopped to get my morning treat I would carry and eat as I walked and waited at the school bus stop.

Any candy was good to a kid and my father had a sweet tooth as well. As you entered the dining room on the right were a set of shelves that held a small bowl with a lid. it was filled with those little cinnamon heart candies. My father had said I could have 3 to 4 candies (they were very small but yummy) every morning before I went to school and like every good little child I was dead set on obeying and getting my morning ration of candy. I stopped at the shelves, hurriedly opened the bowl and was at the count of candy number 3, when I felt the Darkness open the door at the end of the hall.


When I turned she looked up and then down the hallway. She saw me and the realization of what I was doing emptied into her head all at once. She must not have woken up not in the greatest of moods that morning. This was not uncommon for her as well. As the realization filtered thru her, a beast arose up thru her skin and she gathered her robe around her and came careening down the hallway towards me.

I was the proverbial deer in the head lights. Nothing about me moved. My legs were frozen, my body was facing the shelves which held the candy, my arm raised with my frozen hand in the candy dish, and a twist in my neck which pointed my head and now rather large eyes down the hallway that contained the beast coming towards me. I was still frozen as she slapped me, and then slapped my hand which then shot the candy dish across the dining room. It rained little cinnamon heart candies as I was pushed to the ground and screamed at by the beast.

I was paralyzed and my mind couldn't figure out why she was beating on me. I had no idea what was coming next and is one of those painful memories you just can not seem to get rid of.

She didn't care as I tried to explain between small kicks and slaps at my butt. The anger she held had welled up and was fighting to escape her all at once. It blinded her to my words as she played out the last few drops of rage that were being bestowed upon me. I was so scared. I hated being this scared and thought a boy should not be this scared and I hated myself for showing it in front of her. I couldn't help showing it as she finally allowed me to get up but only to my knees. My hands trembled, and she noticed.

She was in her perverted happy place now. You could see the pleasure she was feeling running up and down her skin as if it was power. It was power she felt, power she was stealing from me to feed that black hole in her soul. As she enjoyed the rush of power I was then forced to walk around the dining room on my knees and pick up each and every little cinnamon heart candy. If you noticed I used the word candy in its singular form instead of candies. I was not allowed to gather them up in my hand, then make my way to the bowl dump and then go back to refill my hand. No she decided it would be much better for me to only pick up just one little candy at a time, and then make my way back to the bowl. If you can imagine this bowl was about 5 to 6 inches around and about 2.5 inches deep. The bowl wasn't slap full but there were several hundred candies in the bowl prior to them all being spewed through out the entire living room. So with the duty of picking them up one at a time on my knees took over an hour and my knees were so rug burned they started to bleed.

By now I had missed the school bus and she didn't drive. The thought that scared me more then anything was what was next because she now had the better part of the day to inflict pain upon me.

I got up from candy pickup chore and she called me into the kitchen. I was so scared of what was next and prayed she would just send me to my room and bed. I was immediately directed to sit at the eat in kitchen table and to wait without speaking. She then proceeded to totally ignore me as if I didn't exist while she made her coffee, ate her breakfast, and lastly got herself dressed for the day.

I was bored and extremely hopeful this was the extent of my punishment. WRONG!!!

She sauntered over to the table, sat herself down and looked at me for at least 20 to 30 seconds. I didn't know if I should hold eye contact or look away. I looked up at her and was thinking I was proud of myself for doing so, as she parted her thin lips and started to speak to me. First I needed to a further reminder of what a little shit I was and how only by her grace did I have a mother and my father a wife. She explained to me that in today's world men who had children from another marriage had very low odds of finding another woman who was willing to accept the responsibilities of another woman's children. I should count myself blessed she saw fit to let my fathers lack of appeal due to children and marry him.

With her lengthy lecture of my luck out of the way, she dropped the bomb on me. It was subtle and I only know now that it was a bomb because it was so stealth in making its execution. She simply asked me "Robbie what was that look on your face meant to mean when I was coming out of my room this morning and caught you"?

It can't be this easy I thought. I looked up at her and said "I was scared of you because you looked mad".

"No, I don't think it meant that" she said.

I was shocked and the only thing I could do is say "Yes, that's what the look meant.......I swear it does"

"No, I don't think it meant that and you will sit here till you tell me" she said.

I didn't know what to do. I told the truth and it didn't work. I was still knee deep in poo. One after another she shot my answers down. They ranged from the look meant I love you to I hate you. Nothing worked, nothing got me out of that chair.

It was well past lunch and had been denied lunch in my prison cell. I was hungry, tired, bored, confused, scared and about a dozen other things all at once. I sat in my prison cell looking at my feet and it seemed like days had passed. It was just hours, hours of pleasure for her. The delight she obtained from me when saw the confusion and fear she teased out till the last hour she could.

It's now about 4:30 in the evening and about 9.5 hours of torture suddenly came to an end when she asked me if the look really meant I hated her. I saw the bars to the prison window show a sign of weakness which meant possible escape. I took the chance and answered her question no matter what the words really meant.

"Hmm, I figured you hated me and for that you can explain to your father when he gets home that you told me that you hate me". She then directed me to my room without hopes of dinner because I was told to get ready for bed.

I did miss dinner. I did tell my father I hated her. I didn't lie this time. I did end up in bed for the rest of the night as well.

What do you do with memories and pain like this. Allow the pain to plague you and alter you for the rest of your life. No, you heal yourself, you become proud of who you are, you build on what you have become, and lastly you forgive yourself and even the one who fed upon you.

Love yourself, love yourself more then the pain.

Words

I wrote this on my why to work today and thought I would share.

I Pray

Hello, I am right here,
Just looking up at me.
For so long U weren't real to me,
I saw the evidence
Yet I was so empty

Don't take it away
Now there's miles between us
My emptiness is gone
Every time I see U I fall to my knees and pray.

Hello, I see U there
Do U wanna play?
I see the stars in Ur eyes
I was so happy, I am so full

Don't take it away
Now there's miles between us
My emptiness is gone
Every time I see U I fall to my knees and pray.

Hello Baby, I feel U from miles away.
I am with U always and forever
I will protect U,
I will take the bullet
and stop the train

Don't take it away
Now there's miles between us
My emptiness is gone
Every time I see U I fall to my knees and pray.

I may slip, I may stumble
But I will always be there
Ur the angel promised me.

Don't take it away
Now there's miles between us
My emptiness is gone
Every time I see U I fall to my knees and pray.

I miss u
I'm always sorry for U
Please don't cry I love U
I miss U
U are with me forever and always

Been Awhile

Well as the title states it's been awhile since I have posted. My other post which was just posted was written actually a good while ago Instead of the telling of my childhood or a trip I took, I felt the need to just type my thoughts. I know someone who writes a bit and they said how therapeutic it was for them and I have come to understand that a little.

I was wondering does everybody else talk, ask questions to themselves like I do? I see pictures or little movies in my head as I play the questions out. Do you? I was just doing that the other day as Van asked me "Robert so what's up?" Think about it for a second....... in about 1.27884 seconds, you know what I mean, or almost prior to the question actually being finished, I have played out 2 to 3 scenes in my head of how or what I'm going to say. The funny thing is all I could spit out was:

Me - "Dude its girl trouble"

Van - "Ohhh"

Do you do that too where your guts are going up down but my face says "It's cool" "I'm fine" Weird!!!

Anyways, I have learned a lot over the last few weeks and just heard it put this evening in a way I really liked. Just because we have been thru hard times in the past and say were healed, doesn't mean we are done or really got much farther then being able to say I think I am healed. I know I recently put more stock in the words I am healed, I have soul searched, and I have asked myself some tough questions lately. I love people that challenge me to be better.

Mind you I say this now (when I say "now" I mean this exact moment in time) because a few days ago or even 24 hours ago I was struggling. It doesn't matter what it was I was struggling with, what matters was I was trying to lean on something that wasn't completely healed.

It is a good thing to have smart, intelligent people in our lives that are willing to test themselves, search themselves. LOL, that sounds so dam corny, but shit it's fricking true.

I struggle the most I think sometimes not giving people the right to think differently then me. Wow, did I just say that. Have you every thought about something to the point you knew you were so right and by God what the hell is this other person thinking. Look it's so dam simple, it's doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out, why the hell you having such a hard time with this concept? Okay let me line it up for you sweetpea (hehehe) 1 + 1 =2 and if you took a poll 9 out of 10 people would say this. Which is exactly what I happen to think so what is your problem?

Yikes, it sounds really bad when you type it or read it, doesn't it!!! Why is it so hard to understand people sometimes? I usually communicate with people that speak the same language as I. So what is the problem?

Being an adult is tough. In my opinion the people we look at and go they are so self confidant are really the same as you but with just a minor change. Think of the cat in the movie Shrek and remember the little pose with the big eyes looking up so submissively. Thats how I think people feel on the inside. Where I think self confidant people seem to differ is not on how they feel inside but in the fact that even though they are scared they make a decision. Even if the decision is one of those ones you just say f-it, the courage to make a decision is what I believe we call self confidence most of the time.

I was watching a movie the other day and heard another statement that kinda sorta goes along with my train of thought. If not its my blog. The statement went something like this:

"Becoming an adult involves the right to make our own decisions and getting the pleasure or pain of the result. Where the problem lies is we don't realize we are already adults till 10 or 12 decisions into it. Resulting many times with us facing the consequences or are still trying to repair the results of these decisions years and years latter.

Applies to me how about you?

China Trip April 2007

Well I'm not going to write anything but thought everyone would enjoy some pictures. So here you go.

Moving

Moving is a scary and at the same time envokes excitement. Where am I going, what will the kids be like, wonder if the school is any better, especially the lunches. I have never met a regular kid who has moved any where close to the amount of times I have in my life and would top most military brats I met.

My dad and step mother where what you would call a little different. Insteed of taking a stinking vacation they would move. It would usally start right around the 7th or 8th month of being at our current address. Typically conversation would start around the dinner table or one Friday evening when we would go out for our traditional Friday evening out for dinner and the mall circute. It would always seem to start out something to the effect of "You know what they just don't have any good resturants in this town" or "The shopping here just isn't the quality we expected". The worst one you could possibly hear would be "Remember when we lived in -fill in the blank- they had great resurants or shopping".

They were always looking for the proverbial pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. My true beleif is they were so unhappy in thier relationship this was thier way of diverting thier attention away from each other to something else which would take months of planning and doing.

I have lived in more homes then I can count. Whats weird my brother and I when describing an event in our lives would always seem to go "Yea I remember that it was when we lived on this street or that street".

The Basement Apartment and the Pumpkin

I am jumping ahead a little but will return. I have thoughts and memories I want to make sure I get down. I hate remembering something and going "Oh yeah that would be great", then not remembering but racking your brain trying to conjure up those thoughts that were so fresh just a short while ago.

Dad and mom had gotten a divorce. I know what dad said but never had the courage to ask mom why thou. I am not sure if I really want to know or not. It was so long ago I don't think it matters and besides I'm chicken to ask. I only remember moving after it happened. I wish I remembered how I felt. It would be such a help I believe for me now that my children have and are going thru the same thing.

This is where my seemingly endless moving adventure started. Dad choose a 1 bedroom basement apartment for the 3 of us to live in. Dad had the bedroom, I had the sofa bed and Mike I don't remember where he slept. It was an older building, we even had the old fashion radiators. I kindly called them heaterators. With a brick exterior and a large yard with one of the best trees a boy could hope for in the front yard. Just so there is no confusion the building was a converted house with several apartments with ours in the basement.

The tree in the front yard captivated me to the point I felt I needed to conquer the tree. This could only be done in the one way a little boy could could imagine, Climb It. Boy did I. Everyday to be honest.

We battled often in that front yard. I lost a number of times, requiring the need to call in reinforcements. Screaming from the top of my lungs for dad (aka the Reinforcements) to come rescue me from the evil and maniacal tree. Victory days were most often celebrated by sitting from a branch I had not yet conquered and viewing my bounty from a level that gave me a view of the whole yard.

Dad was not a very good cook I believe, because we seemed to eat Hamburger Helper 3 or 4 nights a week. Sitting from his chair he always did proclaim what a good cook grandma was thou. Pies and cakes is what he talked about mostly. This was a man who did not believe dinner was anywhere close to being completed unless there was something sweet to follow the main course.

One day after going on a kindergarten field trip to a local pumpkin farm, I brought home my prize pumpkin I was allowed to pick. It wasn't huge by any standard but it was the one I choose. Showing off my pumpkin to dad, it immediately made the man think desert for some reason and he had the idea that if we bring it to grandmas house she would turn this orange ball into pumpkin pie. I was sold instantly and agreed we should do this.

Dad could be a really cool guy but sometimes I wondered about him. As an example and to complete my pumpkin story is one of the reasons I often wondered about the man.

Like I said the guy came up with a an awesome idea of turning the pumpkin into something sweet and yummy but the follow thru, well sucked. He did call grandma and tell her but a complete stroke of dumbness swam over him which compelled him for some reason to place the fresh picked pumpkin on the heaterator/radiator. I assume you picked up on the fact it was fall and we still lived in Maryland at the time, so the heaterator was on every night, especially in the basement apartment.

Are you laughing yet? I still get a little chuckle from it even today. If you can only imagine what my poor pumpkin had to combat every cool evening. It gave a good fight but after several weeks of fighting off the heat from the heaterator it finally succumbed and became just pure mush. It wasn't till the orange corpse began to stink to the point even my father could no longer stand entering the kitchen he decided to give the pumpkin a proper burial. The burial involved several trash bags, a paint scraper, several rolls of towels and my dad bitching about what a mess it was.

Funny thing is this story made me think back and I don't believe in my entire life I ever had had the chance to taste one of the wondrous creations my father always and probably still brags about my grandmother's cooking. I don't have a doubt she made great pies and cakes, but I sure would have liked to have tried one for myself before she passed away.

Feelings

I think many of us have a hard time feeling complete. What I mean is that feeling we all seem to search for everyday of our lives that would give us that warmth inside that allows your your mind to be calm, your heart to beat slow, your muscles to relax, and allows your eyes to see past the minor conflicts of the day.

I have not found this state yet but have had a glimpse of it from time to time. The day my first son was born it overwhelmed me. The moment I saw him I truly discovered this calmness as well as was introduced to unconditional love. Have you ever seen one of those movies where the dad takes a bullet for his child or when someone says they would stand in front of a train for the one they love? This is what I mean, it is a love that that does not allow you to think for one instance for yourself if a situation was upon you such as this. It is an action you have no control over. It becomes encoded in your DNA at the very millisecond of your child's birth.

Religion/God is what many subscribe to as the only way to become complete. I understand the line of thinking that God introduced this into us as a way to turn to him, but he also gave us the ability to think for ourselves or free will is another way of putting it. The two seem to almost contradict each other many times. So he programed us with this need in hopes we would choose him but gave us this proverbial loaded gun as well saying you have to choose for yourself as well and if you don't you will never be happy.

Take for instance another one of these paradoxes that bother me. First lets set the scene as described in the bible. God is good, perfect and allows nothing unholy in his presence. Thus a simple conclusion can come from this that God can not or will not create something unholy or evil. If we jump ahead now and God has created the earth all the animals and man. He then gave them the directive to turn the whole earth into a paradise and be fruitful and be many. Here is were the glitch comes in. God then told them you can eat from any tree but from this one tree called the tree of Good & Evil. Why Why Why did he even make this tree and then tell them no, and then allow this one called the devil to actually tempt his most wondrous creation. It just doesn't make sense.

Would you turn the stove on to it's highest setting with no apparent reason, then tell your child don't touch it or you will be burned badly, then allow another adult to trick your child into placing it's hand on the stove while you sit back and watch knowing full well your child has no experience with a stove, no concept of what hot is or a what a burn feels like, and obviously isn't mature enough to see a deception being placed on a silver platter garnished with every conceivable and luscious candy that can be imagined.

Don't take me wrong, I do believe in God and am very thankful for many of the things I have been blessed with in my life. I just don't understand why sometimes. I almost feel like it is wrong to ask why. I do enjoy that feeling you get during and after church, I do think God warns us and protects us from many pitfalls.

I must move on to another part of my thoughts because I get riled up at these internal feels of conflict over God, or is it Religion?

A feeling I do love is the one you get when you meet a beautiful girl (or the politically correct word is woman) and you feel that spark in your brain. Oh and if she actually pays attention to your either dumb ass line or forgives the fact you trip over your tongue saying your very own name.

I remember one of the first girls I liked. She was the daughter of my parents friends. Leslie was a looker to a 5 year old (not positive I was 5 but pretty close). She was fun and the best part was she liked me. I don't mean in the boyfriend girlfriend way, but in the best friends way.

I only have three memories of Leslie.

First I had fun with her, second I remember one instance of us playing together at my parents apartment. We thought we were hilarious this day. We took wads of tissues from the Kleenex box and would place them under our nose and use our upper lip to hold them in place. Kleenex mustaches we had invented for ourselves. We posed in front of the mirror showing off each others white tissue paper mustaches. Our brains were then infected with the awesome idea our parents would think it was really cool or funny what we were doing. Running to the living room to show them off we were abruptly informed what a waste we had made. Oddly enough I don't remember actually getting in trouble, just told it was a waste.

My last and final memory of Leslie was a number of years later as a teenager. My father and wicked step mother got a bug up their but to move back to Maryland where Leslie lived. By the way my dad and wicked step mother I am totally and absolutely convinced raised these moving bugs and rather enjoyed sticking them up their rears.

Well anyways I was at a JW convention (if you don't know JW is short for Jehovah's Witness and probably is the reason for much of my God/Religion confusion) and low and behold there was Leslie. She had turn into a very beautiful girl, but seemed to not notice me or remembered me. I think to my misfortune she was now old enough to only like much older boys. I will always remember Leslie.

I will end it here today, but I will tell more of my experiences with Religion/God, feelings in general, my children, and yes of girls.

Memories

Plastics as you might be able to tell have played a role in my life. They have touched all of our lives from the Tupperware your mom used, the 45 records you owned, to my first toy I remember the "Big Wheel".

Mom "aka Emma" as she likes to say was in the kitchen making me lunch. My bottom was sitting safely in the high chair as my flailing arms pounded on the white glossy plastic tray attached to the chair.

For some reason I remember the jar mom was stirring with that rubber coated spoon was filled with green peas.

Memories are funny. Your mind decides to keep some, get rid of others and worst yet keep just partial memories.

I wish I remembered more of this moment in time. Did I like the peas, did mom have to use the spoon to recover the majority of the meal from my face, or did I show the first signs of the stubborn streak that is so apparent in my adult life.

The one thing I know today is I am happy I have this memory.

First Memory

It was a warm evening, happy thoughts along with sharing potato chips with my mom and dad seemed to be the best it could get. It was one of those evening where the air was warm and the sky had enough clouds. Watching just the right amount of commercials that day had me begging my parents with the unending barrage of questions and deals to get the best toy I had every seen, "The Big Wheel".

A "Big Wheel" was about the closest a young boy could get to owning a custom hot rod. With it's red chassis, yellow forks, mag wheels in the back, and that really cool blue storage box behind the adjustable seat back.

Dad and Mom for some reason succumbed to constant begging for that awesome vehicle only a child was able to take on the many million of adventures possible. I remember my dad taking it out of the box and complaining about the some assembly required. I was trembling with excitement as dad put it together at a pace that is totally unacceptable to a child. I was ready before the box was opened to take this Big Wheel to speeds unattainable to most kids, take corners at break neck speeds, and most of all show off my new vehicle which the world of plastics had made available to me and me only.

I am 4 years old living in Silver Spring Maryland. My life as a child is somewhat a fog accept for a few choice memories. This day is one of the few i remember. Oh I was happy this day, I had two parents who loved me. Look at my my beautiful mother who holds me as a baby. You can see the love and happiness in her eyes which is reflected in my smile. My dad works for UPS and I am not sure if mom worked or not.

After dad had finally gotten it all together he took it outside and placed the 3 wheeled wonder on the side walk in front of our apartment. Straddling the red plastic body, immediately placing my feet on the peddles, I was off to my first taste of independence. My heart was racing as I took the first turn the side walk allowed, streaking to the other side of the courtyard. Coming around the 3rd corner and suddenly realizing this machine needed to come to a stop in front of the stoop my mom and dad were sitting on, I slowed my peddling to a pace which allowed me to be viewed in my full glory.

I was in heaven this day.