Mama, I like things red.
Not some namby-pamby wine color
too scared to be red, but
Scream in your face
Fire engine loud red
The color that shouts
Damn, you’d best see me and take notice
‘for I run you over red
That’s me, mama.
The Red Woman
The scarlet woman they whisper about in church
I don’t turn my eyes downward for no one
These feet know where they’re goin’
without me check’in up on ’em every three seconds.
I wear red, mama, and
Hold my head up high
Proud of my scars and my smile that says
I been there and come out
whole on the other side
I wear red, mama, for the heat in my heart and my thighs
For the dark fire that burns in these black eyes
I wear red, mama,
Because I won’t walk when I can run
and I won’t whisper when I can sing
I wear red, mama, for all the joy you ever taught me.
I wear red, mama
For you
After a while, you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and chaining soul,
And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning
And company doesn’t mean security
And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts
And presents aren’t promises
And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes open
With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child,
And you learn to build all your roads on today
Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans.
And futures have a way of falling down in midflight
After a while, you learn
That even the sunshine burns if you get too much
So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure…
That you really are strong.
And you really do have worth.
And you learn and learn…
With every goodbye, you learn.
When you get what you want in your struggle for self
And the world makes you king for a day,
Just go to a mirror and look at yourself
And see what THAT man has to say.
For it isn’t our father or mother or wife
Whose judgment upon you must pass,
The fellow whose verdict counts most in your life
Is the one staring back from the glass.
Some people might think you’re a straight-
shootin’ chum
And call you a wonderful guy.
But the man in the glass says you’re only a bum
If you can’t look him straight in the eye.
He’s the fellow to please, never mind all the rest
For he’s with you clear to the end
And you’ve passed your most dangerous test
If the guy in the glass is your friend.
You may fool the whole world down the pathway of
years
And get pats on the back as you pass.
But your final reward will be heartache and
tears
If you’ve cheated the man in the glass.
Tucked away in our subconscious is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves on a long trip that spans the continent We are traveling by train. Out the windows we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hillsides, of city skylines and village halls.
But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. On a certain day, at a certain hour we will pull into the station. Bands will be playing and flags waving. Once we get there so many wonderful dreams will come true, and the pieces of our lives will fit together like a completed jigsaw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for loitering—waiting, waiting, waiting for the station.
“When we reach the station, that will be it!” we cry. “When I’m 18.” “When I buy a new 450SL Mercedes!” “When I put the last kid through college.” “When I reach the age of retirement, I shall live happily ever after!”
Sooner or later we must realize there is no station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us.
“Relish the moment” is a good motto, especially when coupled with Psalm 118:24:”This is the day which the Lord hath made” we will rejoice and be glad in it.” It isn’t the burdens of today that drive men mad. It is the regrets over yesterday and the fear of tomorrow. Regret and fear are twin thieves who rob us of today.
So stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice cream, go barefoot more often, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets laugh more, cry less. Life must be lived as we go along. Testation will come soon enough.
Seems as tho this time of year brings out people who just can’t stand the idea of Christmas…They throw around their ‘rights’ and most of the time, schools, churches, and government buildings back down because of the lawsuit threat….
No one seems to get too upset with the twinkling lights of neighborhoods, or the crèche in people’s yards. Because of that, I think we should (that’s you and me and whomever) offer to purchase the areas where these decorations are displayed. Since I’m not a lawyer, there is no guarantee it would work, but I certainly don’t hear of many lawsuits regarding neighbors or private property.
I would be happy to rent or purchase the area where the ten commandments hang in the building discussed in the latest news. Working out who would dust it, or put it back straight should be relatively easy to accomplish. As far as the nativity scenes, I would be happy to rent the area for $1 for just the period of time needed to celebrate…
night-night grumpies…..merry Christmas joyous ones……for all the years ahead
We are in a holiday season in these states, that celebrate many victories. Thanksgiving came about only because of people being dissatisfied with their former government, their ability to make a living, and how they were denied the opportunity to practice and preach their own personal beliefs.
These ways of life were so important to families across the Atlantic..that they gambled their entire lives to pursue liberty and a democracy. Today, if we re-read the stories, we are reminded of strife of hunger, disease, and frustration.
Celebration came when change came….and change was separating government and religion, respecting others rights (as Jesus and other leaders spoke of) and, again, learning to live together.
Some days it is evident we have come a long way….the road has been rocky, ugly, and bloody, but those before us, being united for common goals, have constructed a foundation to guide us for years to come.
Democracy…..allows us the freedoms to choose how we live, under a series of
laws created in all of our best interests. Since we did not come to these shores ‘united’, we have and are still learning to live together.
Racial tension and religion seem to be the toughest to deal with. In 2 or 3 more generations, it is my opinion, racial problems will be a thing of the past. Our youth, for the most part are blending into one beautiful and content group and I am so proud of them.
Fairness, however, is sorely lacking, as seen by outbursts in Ferguson, Mo., Oakland, Ca., and other cities. It warms my heart to see neighbors beginning to help neighbors by talking, cleaning, and preparing as a unified city begins to heal.
So as we all begin tomorrow, when we hear the latest on CNN and FOX, let there be a pledge to remember others……remember those who have lost family members to violence, and chose not to take to the street. Remember those who have lost family members to drugs and chose not to blame blindly. Remember those who have lost family members to gunfire from unknown origins, and chose not to burn their stores and hurt the innocent.
These are also the suffering, who painfully live their daily lives just as lonely and distraught as the families in Ferguson, and Oakland, and Detroit.
We have laws, we have our vote, we have our neighbors, and our church. It is kind of like receiving a recipe from a friend and finding out it isn’t as good as they said…..just because you have the recipe doesn’t mean you have to use it over and over. If it’s bad, it’s bad, get a new recipe….Same with your town, your city council, your neighborhood, and yes, your kids.
It’s time…..like getting the baby to sleep all night by letting them cry themselves to sleep. You’ll feel guilty, won’t like the screaming, and the following of rules, but that too will pass, and like the baby, it will be quiet once again.
Can’t stand it, have to open my mouth once again…..WINK news in So. Florida has an article wherein some of the garbage men are complaining and actually getting hurt by picking up too heavy of a garbage can….they show 3 cans….the middle one is the one from Waste Management…IT IS MADE TO BE PICKED UP BY A TRUCK!!!! NOT A GUY!!!
I have Waste Management in my town…..3 cans, different colors, garbage, green, recycle….all picked up on the same day, maybe even by the same truck!!! Dang!! Novel idea…. C’mon S. Fla….get with the program. There are plenty of palm trees and bush cuttings that will keep the garbage men picking up stuff that can’t be put in the can…..
Most of us just bump along in this life. I’m not saying life is boring…it’s just that we get caught up in the ordinary….I’m as guilty as the next person in that regard. I am doing my best to snap out of it cause there should be no such word as ordinary in this or any other language. Maybe the best word for me is ‘comfortable’, as in happy to be where we are.
Our neighborhood is a wonderful example of ‘comfortable’. I guess it is an old neighborhood, like 25+ years. I remember the day my hubby and I found we could buy this home. It had been $30,000 more than we could afford and we would look at it longingly when we came to visit our friends one street over. One Sunday afternoon our friends called….it seemed the developer wanted to add another section and couldn’t make it happen with the bank, unless he sold the ones he had…..our neighborhood, our house, was now affordable, dropping $30,000 that sunny afternoon and we drove out to buy it.
We watched it being built, still in disbelief, and on a special week in August, we joined total strangers to create a close knit community, called our cul-de-sac.
Families with kiddies of all ages began to unpack and make a house their home. Some came from 100 miles, some just newly retired from 1000 miles, and everything in between. Ages were just as varied.
You know when neighborhoods are first created, it is all by chance. Ours was surely that way and it was magical. The blend was perfect. We all began to ‘spruce up’…..front yards were planted but not the back. No back steps, no patios, no trees, no bushes, just lots of dirt and trust me, loads of weeds. Whoever found a knowledgeable ‘micro climate’ advisor, a mulch company, and especially a concrete guy, became the ‘go to’ person of the hour. We learned quickly this area did not lend itself to the plants we brought from the cooler areas on the California coast. But what we did learn was that our beloved ‘coast’ plants brought snails…and snails and more snails. Dang….and we did it our selves. I must say, however, after 25 years, the snails have gone elsewhere….the climate just being too dry for them to enjoy themselves. (thank goodness)
So these years have flown by….little kids became high school grads, then out of college and on their own. Parents became grandparents and aunts and uncles, but still the cul-de-sac remained ‘comfortable’….Cookouts were common when second or third families moved in. July 4th brought families of families and Halloween brought hot cider for adults and pets dressed up as Godzilla…. And it continued to be ‘comfortable’.
Now, all of a sudden, it is more than 25 years later, and 1/2 of us are still original owners. The ‘newbies’ have either conformed to our ways, or we have to theirs. It is still warm to come home….to see friends/to wave goodbye as they go off on vacation, or when they come back from church. We smile as we remember teens being teens, running out of refrigerator room during the holidays, or even using another’s oven when it became crunch time.
We have had our sad times when those in our circle have moved on, and today my heart is teary as a great family has decided the same. It is and will be good for them. Change is good, even when it makes us stretch our ‘comfortable’ life. It will be a new chapter for the cul-de-sac family as well. They will take their laughter, their Christ led family, their extended family, and our love with them, and all will be well…..in their new neighborhood, where life will, once again, be ‘comfortable’. Miss’in you already…..
I do not have an I-phone, Android, etc., etc. I have the old flip-phone, AND IT’S NOT BECAUSE I’M OLD!!! (well, maybe a little bit) However, the problem of touch is the real culprit. You see, when others show me their kids at school, their friends in the bar, the latest cake, etc., on their phone and I am instructed to just move the pictures with my finger….nothing happens! I repeat, nothing happens. They repeat the request, over and over again, then it becomes a task, ‘press gentle, press and slide, push lightly and slide’ and on and on. Then they just TAKE IT AWAY FROM ME like I’m a little kid, and do it themselves!
I don’t consider myself THAT weird, at least I didn’t until I found that none of my friends, or relatives suffer from the same malady. They can take their wonderful phones and go anywhere in the world with just a gentle shove, push, touch,… whatever. I am grounded to my flip phone, which serves me well, except when I have to constantly remember what series of the alphabet is on what number when I text. I type over 100 words a minute, on a computer….not my phone. Now I do know and admit that when I wear some watches, they stop! My mom had the same condition, or talent. I cannot curl my tongue, I cannot wiggle my ears, and I cannot trill. I guess this will follow me all the days of my life…..and I will dwell in the darkness of ‘flip’ land forever.
I am damn good at writing backwards and upside down, however!
seriouslyscorpio 