A Child Waiting | a poem

A CHILD WAITING
by j.kiley

I am writing from the past
To be read in the future
It is time to tell my story
To let my self open
Free to say it out loud

Too much to say
To write on this page
I am okay beginning
Telling my psyche-confessor
Finding the words to speak

Words the silence kept locked up
Hiding in the clouds
Soaring with the crows in silence
Unable to feel . no touching
It will lock me up

Have worked years to follow the maze
Guiding my child to a freeing
The feelings will begin their release
If it happens . when it happens
It will be surprising

It may last but a moment
Before their voices force me
The abusers . the thieves
They cursed my desire
Alone with them in the darkness

Innocent sensations tainted
Destructors abuse lives
Haunting the hallways
Waiting to get back in
They do sometimes

Time to unlock the secrets
A gentle directness is essential
A demanding necessity
Recovering who I am
The one holding the first memory

In the dark being raped sexual
Now they wait at the door
It seems they will always be there
Waiting for another turn
Finding their way back in

© j.kiley ‘17
Free verse
#metoo

Ruin the Gentle | a poem

RUIN THE GENTLE
by j.kiley ‘17

Because you don’t want them to be like the abusers
Making excuses . giving yourself permission to diminish their behavior
I thought I respected them . but now I find out they abuse children
Where does the line of truth start and vindication end
Delineate your lists . no one is perfect
But abusing children sexually . when they are an adult
No reasoning will be satisfying . the bad is already inside growing
If they are capable once . many times is not impossible
To destroy a childhood . stealing the trust
Removing the senses . safety . protected . the unknown being light
Forcing against a child’s inner protests . they ruin the gentle out

© j.kiley ‘17
Free verse

Saying “She Knew” | dedicated to Meryl Streep

Meryl Streep Innocent

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dedicated to Meryl Streep

Saying “She Knew”
By Lauren Pierce

Saying “She Knew”
When it’s a secret no one knows
Why would anyone know
Unless you are the victim
Or in on the conspiracy

The conspiracy to abuse
Abuse children
Women raped
Anyone could be murdered
Buying silence
Keeping silent

Why keep silent?
To keep alive
Yourself
Your family
We’re in danger
Being kidnapped
Could get you killed

Unpredictable abusers
Yet you know you’ll be forced
Into vile positions
Freedom of choice ripped away

Abusers are responsible
No one knows is not to blame
The predators are guilty
Once they commit their first assault
They are guilty forever
No one else is to blame

The predators
Are the ones who know

© Lauren Pierce
Stream . 12.21.17

L.P. is a new writer who is part of my crew . j.k

Posted concurrently with ‘Expats Post’

An Open Letter To Donald Trump From Some Angry Women.

'maggie the cat'

‘maggie the cat’

A feeling of strength surges through my female body while I read this blog post EXPOSING Mr. Trump for the disgrace he IS as a human & how disgusting he is as a sexual assaulter & for his demeaning of all women. Women are stronger now, more than ever, and we won’t let Mr. Trump take us back to the days of a Nazi Germany mentality, where all who were not white, wealthy & powerful were considered as worthless & deserving of extermination. We are not in that place anymore & hopefully, we will never, EVER, return to such a devastating existence. Mr. Trump cannot be elected as President of these United States of America. It would mean the destruction of the US & would bring devastation to the entire World. PLEASE VOTE – MAKE IT COUNT! Think carefully when you cast your vote. READ THIS POST IN ITS ENTIRETY! The ANGRY WOMAN who wrote maggie-the-cat-paw-print1this Treatise is brilliant! It will tell all women who Mr. Trump is. His Secrets Are Revealed. BRAVA!

Maggie the Cat | Roars & Purrs

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Drifting Through

39b44ab1278fcf89da3102eb2b7ad7c9

Dear Mr. Trump… can I call you Mr. Trump? Is that ok? I want you to be happy, that’s very important to me.

Before I get started, let me say this letter isn’t from all women. The Trumpettes surely won’t approve of this message. But this is from most women.

We see right through you. We have all known you at some point. Your ways are not unfamiliar to us. We see through you because we’ve been dealing with you our whole lives.

We heard you call women pigs. And disgusting. And stupid. And bimbos.

We watched as you called a former Ms. Universe “Ms. Piggy” and then spent four days continuing to insult her.

We see your weakness. Your lust for attention at any cost, your need to denigrate women. We see all of it. And we’re mad.

Yes. We’re mad. And fired up. And here’s the thing about us……

View original post 1,086 more words

Private Writings: Chapter #68 – “Loving You Loving Me”

private writings a novel of true fantasy by jennifer kiley [shawn's 2d blue name]

“Loving You Loving Me”
Private Writings #68
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Post Tuesday 1st July 2014

WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT
Not Suitable For Children.
ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTITIOUS.
Anyone Resembling Anyone Living or Dead
Is Purely Coincidental.

1 alice-down-the-rabbithole [use best one]

Crypticistic Synopsis:

private writings to dr. annie haskell psychoanalyst

I am the storyteller using imagination fantasy feelings & thoughts

to discover self soul eternal serenity & bliss

but to most importantly tell the best tale ever after upon a time.

see you down the rabbit hole.

Private Writings: Chapter #68 — “Loving You Loving Me”

Tuesday 23rd December 2008

Dear Annie,

Once again I am writing to you after an insomniac’s night of twisted shadows. But mostly, my sleep was shallow. I feel more upset now than I did when I was writing to you before my dreams that turned into ‘the shadow’ nightmares. It was too bad for me to remember. She wants me to be tortured and she sure as Hell doesn’t want me telling you the secrets.

Between you and ‘the shadow’ you’ve got me twisted inside out and upside down. I am very confused about what I feel because I don’t know what I feel except I think it feels like what being in love would feel like. But I don’t even know what being in love is. This is something we really need to talk about.

When I feel love it wants me to tell you something. Something so hard for me to say. I wish I didn’t have to say it out loud. People get crazy when you say these words to them. But since I need for you to know I will say the words. Make believe I am saying these words out loud. Here I go, Annie, you mean everything to me and I never could bear losing you. But to be sure you know what my true feelings are I have to tell you, that I love you.

I know it is a powerful feeling. What we have between us, as therapist and client, is powerful. The energy is sometimes all consuming. What can I say, I know what I feel. It may not be real to you but it feels damned real to me and the next time I write I am going to tell you as honestly and directly as possible, what exactly I understand to be my feelings for you. When I tell you, I love you, I mean each word. The “I” that is spoken of is what is my Identity. Since I have a difficult time determining that, my commitment to what words I use are as strong as my connection with reality will allow.

As far as talking to ghosts, I will continue writing down what they are telling me. And I will ask Angie specifically, “What do you want from me?” But I figured out the answer to that question already. Angie wants me to help her catch her murderer. Hopefully without them trying to murder me first, the one who murdered Angie, the ghosts aren’t murdering me.

Don’t pay me any attention. This has developed into one of the most in sane weeks yet at Redcliff so far. Most of my section is filled with non-violent women, who have no idea who they are or why they are here. Helen is still completely silent. What happened to push her into the quiet space suddenly. She loved telling her stories. Even if she didn’t realize the stories she thought she was making up were actually about real people from her life. Someone filled me in on that.

And Lynn is getting rather obsessed with me. She follows me. Doesn’t say much but when any words pass her lips, it is very important to listen. Someone brushed her off the other day & I thought she was going to murder her. She went physical on her. They had to give her a shot & now she has disappeared. I miss her shadowing me. What do you think of that? I want a person to be near me. A stranger. Not me at all.

Even so, my feelings are more leveled off. Got some truth out from the shadows into the light. Light always frees the spirit of the secrets so they don’t need to hide any longer. It is such a relief when the secrets are set lose into freedom. They aren’t sure exactly what to do after they aren’t hidden any longer. I would prefer they would just fade away once they are no longer lethal.

You may ask, how are they so lethal? They could mean Death. Death by Murder or Death by Design or Death by Suicide. All are Death to the Soul and Innocence.

This feels like a good place to stop. While I still have the ability to think.

I switch up my thinking and feelings all the time. Bear in mind, a feeling today may change in a nano moment. The fickleness of my heart and mind breathe with the chemicals mixing inside my brain.

The brew that is true got lost in the blue that is the hue of the color in your eyes.

A visit with the March Hare & the Mad Hatter is pre-ordained to happen while confined in a facility that is relegated to those who seem to have lost control of their own lives, minds, confusions & chaos.

That is why I am going to stop now. Will finish it up in the morning & send it off then.

I know I don’t have to ask this but I feel I must, “Please don’t judge anything that comes out of this addled mind.” I only know how to speak the truth. Never wanted to learn how to lie. Maybe a “white” lie that would mean nothing but would hurt someone’s feelings. But then I don’t consider that lying. And even then I don’t often do that either. Censor my honesty. Telling the truth is a compulsion. It is most likely because of having to hide everything when I was growing up. Silence & more silence was the better way to survive. I may have survived but for what? So I could enter Hell when I was finally free from the first Hell?

I need to get stoned. Being here put me on edge & my panic attacks have blown out my guts. I am in constant pain physically as well as mentally & emotionally. I need to laugh. In the morning I am going to find something to write to you that is funny. I promise.

Goodnight. Ciao Ciao!!!

Madison

@>-;–

© Madison Taylor 2008

“I think writing really helps you heal yourself. I think if you write long enough, you will be a healthy person. That is, if you write what you need to write, as opposed to what will make money, or what will make fame.“ — Alice Walker

 

5 photo of white rose with red framed in blue

“A Dream
The beginning always starts out
With a dream.
It is all a dream
In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

Le Chateau de Rocher - Home to Madison & Scottie Their Cats & daughter Alison. She has her own place on the estate

Le Chateau de Rocher – Home to Madison & Scottie
Their Cats & daughter Alison. She has her own place on the estate

play is not just play meryl streep“Pretending is not just play.
Pretending is imagined possibility”
— Meryl Streep

Medicalmarijuana red cross marijuana leaf black bgMedical Marijuana

 

Private Writings: Chapter #67 – “Twisting Inside Shouting Out Loud”

private writings a novel of true fantasy by jennifer kiley [shawn's 2d blue name]“Twisting Inside Shouting Out Loud”
Private Writings #67
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Post Tuesday 24th June 2014

WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT
Not Suitable For Children.

ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTITIOUS.
Anyone Resembling Anyone Living or Dead
Is Purely Coincidental.

1 alice-down-the-rabbithole [use best one]

Crypticistic Synopsis:

private writings to dr. annie haskell psychoanalyst

I am the storyteller using imagination fantasy feelings & thoughts

to discover self soul eternal serenity & bliss

but to most importantly tell the best tale ever after upon a time.

see you down the rabbit hole.

Private Writings: Chapter #67 — “Twisting Inside Shouting Out Loud”

Tuesday 16th December 2008

Dear Annie,

If I don’t know who I am, how will I know what I should do?

I have been writing non-stop except for sleep, creating a variety of ideas for my play. I’m rather exhausted. But can’t stop needing to create.

I have been having these phrases popping up inside my head. I finally wrote them down on a blank page on WORD. I am going to use them as the beginning of a scene.

I have to believe I am not going to grow old inside this weird mind melting place. Just wiser and I will only allow them to take a touch of my madness. I will need and use the rest for myself.

I think I am about to write you one of my more in sane letters, much more in sane.

I found a bloody good twist for the play. “Far more things occur in dark spaces and from the other side than we are aware of.” My own quote, made it up just now. Play on one of Shakespeare’s lines. Did a few modifications.

It keeps me up late, thinking about my play. I want to find the exact words & to keep my characters to as few lines as possible & still contain what my story is meant to be. What it is that I am trying to say with all the words I give the actors.

I was searching for songs last night to inspire me. Listened to great stuff & found the pieces of music I was looking for. One song stood out. I listened to it repeatedly. Doing that takes me to the zone. It lifts me up and gives my subconscious something to work out for me, and when the Muse is ready, she feeds me what I am going to do.

The play is meant to be about love – the strongest most powerful energy in the universe. It is also about love that is going to slip away. Knowing it is going to happen before anyone else does, even the person it is going to happen to.

How would you like to have that ability? The power to know things before they happen to other people. My play has an element of that contained within it. Don’t want to give too much a way. You have to see it performed on stage to find out what happens. This is only the second process I am in now. Living life was the first. The second is fictionalizing my experiences with what I’ve learned from living. There is a third & eventually a sequel which will lead me into the fourth part, writing the screenplay. That may end the process or open up into another world.

I may be sounding vague but I like to be a mystery. Mysterious. It is what keeps me alive – wondering & trying to understand what is inside what we don’t know or ever will know while we are mortal.

Since I am mortal, I would like to ask the question Why. Why am I talking to ghosts and they are returning their side of the conversation. I may think a long time before I decide whether you will ever see any of this letter. I will be honest just the same.

I see dead people. I use to say I saw dead people when I was asleep. But now they have decided to visit me when I am trying to get back my sanity. After my group sessions or after I’ve met with Dr. V. They even interrupt me when I am writing to you. Tosh may not know you but Angie sure does. She has been hanging around you until she found me & Dr. George.

I need sleep, so I am going to finish this letter tomorrow, unless I wake up in the middle of the night. Sleeping here without my weed is making my insomnia unbearable. When I do sleep it is just tossing the covers all over. When my eyes open in an attempt to view the world to see if it is still here, I find myself completely twisted up in the covers like I was playing B & D.

Chin Chin Annie. I will think of you as I try to fall asleep. Your face will calm me. If I hear your voice, it would just add to my calmness.

Love Fondly,

Madison

@>-;–

© Madison Taylor 2008

“I think writing really helps you heal yourself. I think if you write long enough, you will be a healthy person. That is, if you write what you need to write, as opposed to what will make money, or what will make fame.“ — Alice Walker

5 photo of white rose with red framed in blue

“A Dream
The beginning always starts out
With a dream.
It is all a dream
In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

Le Chateau de Rocher - Home to Madison & Scottie Their Cats & daughter Alison. She has her own place on the estate

Le Chateau de Rocher – Home to Madison & Scottie
Their Cats & daughter Alison. She has her own place on the estate

 

play is not just play meryl streep“Pretending is not just play.
Pretending is imagined possibility”
— Meryl Streep

Medicalmarijuana red cross marijuana leaf black bgMedical Marijuana