Annie

I have walked thru many lives
I knew she could not take care of herself
I swore both of us to silence, cross your heart and hope to die
He always seemed not to be there when things went south
My sister has suffered many illnesses
He always seemed not to be there when things went south
She had his key; she did this without him knowing
I swore both of us to silence, cross your heart and hope to die
My sister has suffered many illnesses
When my mom dies my sister will be too ill and she will not be there
She had his key; she did this without him knowing
How was my visit, How was Annie, Did she let you see her?
He always seemed not to be there when things went south
When my mom dies my sister will be too ill to be there
But after a few stiff drinks, the truth may come out
How was my visit, how was Annie, did she let you see her?
My sister has suffered many illnesses
But after a few stiff drinks, the truth may come out
I swore both of us to silence, cross your heart and hope to die
Maybe Not
I have walked thru many lives





by Fran Angiulo

This is what I want to post.

A Bit of a Rattlesnake

I heard an old story from an Arkansas friend that reminds me of him. A woman was about to cross a road when she saw a rattlesnake curled up nearby. He looked up at the woman and asked her if she would carry him across the road so he wouldn't be hit by a passing vehicle. She declared firmly, "No, you'll bite me!" The rattlesnake hissed sincerely, "I promise I won't. Please, please take me across. I don't want to die under the wheels of a truck!" He looked so pitiful and vulnerable and pleaded so insistently, she decided she would do it. He bit her the moment they reached the other side. As she was dying, she asked, "Why did you do it? You promised not to bite me." He answered, "Well, you knew I was a rattlesnake."


Miguel was tall, slender, muscular and brown. His back, chest and arms were covered with tattoos. He got them and his well developed frame in prison. He grew up in LA, but he was born in the Mexican state of Chihuahua. His ancestry was part Tarahumara, part Spanish and that heritage was clearly visible in his face. He lived by the gangster code which permits crime and violence, but requires respectful treatment of women and non combatants unless they pose a threat or provide temptation, of course.

He had just served a ten year jail sentence for armed robbery when I met him.  It was hard to imagine this desirable man locked away in a cell with only other men for company. He had only a smattering of education and his English was ungrammatical at best, but he knew just the right words to endear a woman to him. He had a voice so seductively deep and resonant that although his flirtations were obvious, he could conquer women with a few well chosen compliments. He was aided by his good looks and his skill at making himself seem helpless and in need of love.

The women he sought had to be strong as well as attractive. He needed them to support him financially and emotionally. An ex-con and a drug addict, he had a hard time getting jobs that would pay for anything more than his alcohol, cigarette and heroin supplies. Having been viciously beaten and mistreated by his stepfather as a child, and having lived through who knows what horrors while incarcerated, his mental health was fragile. Paranoia was his constant companion and like most who suffer that way he believed his fears, no matter how irrational, to be completely justified. Like the rattlesnake, he never pretended to be any better than he was, but his very existence was a threat to any dream of true love.

When It Ended

Abigail felt old and tired. She looked in the long mirror and saw the body and face that Adam had left and she just wanted to cry, but her eyes were dry.

Adam had gone to Alaska to work on a fishing boat and make money, a lot of money, so they could be comfortable and he would not have to go to work each day, but instead by the miracle of three months of hard, dangerous labor which was very well paid he would be free. Free to do what she had wondered when he first told her? To sleep. to play video games, to drink coffee, to drink beer, to smoke hundreds of cigarettes? What was his goal?

That's when it came to her that he wanted to be free of her, of their life, of obligation, of any future at all. She had asked so little. Her brown hair was cut sensibly, she wore no make-up, she bought her clothes at Goodwill, yet, it was not enough. She would have to become no bigger than a dot on a page to satisfy him.

So she stood there, thinking how sad she must be, when suddenly it struck her, she was free. Free to buy a new dress, free to go out and have a drink, free to stay up late. She didn't ever have to worry again about being too much for him, she could be so big that she could fill the whole apartment with herself alone. Her hair could be long, her lipstick could be bright red, her jewelry could be ostentatious. She could speak loudly and no one would know. The smallest trickle of true joy began to flow in her newly awakened bloodstream.

Poetry

Courage

When our souls explode

Into a billion fragments

And tumors load the bone marrow,

Courageous paths are found,

Thresholds crossed,

And voices of the elders

Float through quiet woods.

We, like the ancient oaks,

Grow stronger,

Rooting in fertile soil,

Reaching towards the light.

When our souls explode

Into a billion fragments

Voices of the elders

 Whisper their sage advice

To hold dear

the heartwood.

R.L. June ‘13

Beach Trip to Connie's Cottage

      Seven of The Portland Nine have just returned from a retreat at Connie's beach house in Longbeach, WA. We missed Kathy, Wendy, and Heather, but want them to know we actually did do some writing along with the more important aspects of these visits to Connie's: eating, drinking, laughing, crying, and telling our stories! And yes, there was some beach time, but the weather was not conducive to much of that.

     I hope the writers will post some of the great writing and poetry that was done over the weekend. Here are a few shots to give you the flavor of it all.

      Ruth

Ephemeral moment: the clouds slipped to the edges and the rain stopped.

"Is this how we do it?"

"I've never been around women like you!"

100% involvement on all projects

"I want to spend my life doing this!"

Hear the buzz?

Without going slow

Conversations flow

Commitment challenges

Emerging

Making decisions critical

The essential ripple:

Change…

Goes all the way.........

(Found poem by Ruth)

Finding Words

Angie

Even in her sixties and carrying some extra pounds, Angie was as cute as the proverbial bug's ear. A tiny woman in her youth, she had been a knockout. Later, she was still very appealing with a ready smile and a quick laugh. Everyone loved her.

Unfortunately, poor Angie was as gullible as she was sweet. Her life had been a series of run-ins with cruel Lotharios who saw her small figure and easy going disposition as an invitation to domination. They pushed her around with words, fists and. sometimes. religion.

Her first husband was an absurdly handsome man, whose beauty, as it often is, was in inverse proportion to his madness. He beat her, humiliated her and was unfaithful to her, but he always returned on his knees, in tears and begging for forgiveness. She was a sucker, but twenty years of that nonsense finally wore her out, so she took off for Florida, leaving him alone in Tennessee. He jumped in his car when he found out and swore he'd drive until he found her and killed her. Luckily, the car broke down and he ran out of murderous energy before he reached the state line.

Her second husband had a birthday within a few days of her first. But, he was so full of wonderful promises in his letters that it didn't seem possible that he could turn out anything like Damon. A clue to her should have been that he sent those letters from prison, but she just didn't see it coming although there were some pretty big road signs along the way.

She ended up in a Texas trailer with him. He didn't hit her, and he didn't play around, but she had to support him and he barely let her out of his sight. She tired of his demands but her rose colored glasses stayed as thick as before, so she never left him.