“I Am Released From The Hospital, Back Into The World Of Obstacles”

…after purchasing the bottle of wine, I drove my short journey

To a remote area thinking no one would be around. Turning

The car off, there is a stillness, a perfect place to bring my

Life to an end. To end the grief and agony I had been enduring.

I unscrewed the cork and bottle of pills and took them all,

Then fell asleep.

I was partially awakened by a woman at the window,

Appearing from no where, then once again falling


The ride in the ambulance took me to a hospital.

Now I was not my own, for when a person attempts to hurt

Themselves or another, endangering their life, they are put

On a seventy two hour hold, placed in a facility, and then begins

An intense regimen of a continuous round of group therapy, private

Counseling and doctors prescribing psychotic drugs.

I had become separated from myself, not understanding that

I was running from the innermost part of me that was struggling to

Exist, desperately trying to hold on, but the opposition of two

Forces within was almost more than I could bare. I was oblivious

To the fact that I was not alone, God saw me in this wretched

State, and was not about to leave me there…

The door closes behind me, I

Am released from the hospital,

Back into the world of obstacles.

I feel the warm sun on my skin,

Breathing fresh air, hearing the sounds

Of cars as they speed by, the sound

Of an airplane,

The whistle of the train, people

Moving back and forth trying to


Will I succeed in facing the world

With nerves on edge from medication

And sedation?

I have reservations as I leave this


With my stay, the space of time

Emptied into remoteness, days lost

Their existence.

The world had gone on without me,

Not knowing or caring why I had

Suddenly left for awhile. I had

Been placed among people who

Were very ill, struggling to survive

I did not quite understand their

Tight hold on life.

With my stay the days emptied

Into space.

Can I do this?

Can I make it in life?

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Ideation To Intervention

“A Bottle Of Wine And A Bottle Of Pills Would Do
This Job Just Fine”

As I mentioned in my last few posts, this is a challenging

Time. The death of my son occurred in the month of July.

He took his life, and with much grief I have tried to work

Through the ravaging effects it has left on myself and my


Two years after this I attempted to also take mine. The

Frightening thing about this is it came on suddenly, I

Did not plan it. I remember the day before I had stood at

The doctor and therapist’s office with the thought, if they

Did not help me I did not know how I would ever make it.

I went home with a despair that I had no idea what to do.

The next day something clicked in my head, reaching

For a bottle of pills, I locked my dogs in my apartment, and

Headed for the store, where I bought a bottle of wine,

Which was out of the ordinary, for I never drink, and then

Drove up a lonely road.

There is a name for thoughts of suicide, ideation, but I did

Not plan this at this time.

When my son was found, it hit with such force that at

That time I did have the thoughts but was unable to

Complete them. They say that when someone does

Complete the act, it has an enormous effect on family and

Friends. It can cause a cluster effect.

I had many times in the past wish I could die, and

Wondered on occasion why I didn’t. As a young girl

My mother and I were standing on a corner waiting

For a bus and I fainted. I had cut my leg (by accident)

On a rusty nail and I had hid it from my mother, I

Had blood poison, and by all rights I should have died.

I think all of us can look back on incidences that

Should have taken us but by some force we were

Spared. I remember driving down a steep grade and

The brakes went out. Again I was spared. I believe

God intervenes in the times we were spared, for

There was a plan to use us in ways we before hand

Did not understand.

I have written a couple of poems to relate my experience

With this ugly illness.



It was a sudden decision, a force

Grabbed my mind, to all things

On earth I was blind.

I was done!

A warm summer evening, with

Beauty all around, that I would

Never again look upon.

A bottle of pills and a bottle of

Wine would do this job just fine.

Driving up the road past homes

Of friends, I did not realize the pain

My decision would bring.

But this would only be for a time.

Friends would soon forget, I would

Be forgotten, as time went on.

The sun began to set, as I parked

The car on a far off road.

My last night on earth, taking

One more look, shadows lingering

Upon the hills. I twisted the cork,

Tipping the bottle to my lips,

Taking the bottle of pills, with one

More look at the lavender hills.

Falling asleep, death would be a

Sweet release.

Suddenly I awoke to the sound of

Words, I was placed on a stretcher,

They were trying to keep me alive.

I was angry, “why God was I not

Taken, did You have something

Else in mind, did I try to stop my

Clock, just for You to rewind?”

This was my intention, but He had

Plans of intervention. The answer

To this question would come in


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“I Tried To Climb The Ladder Of Grief”

I was fearful of the steps of grief, it was frightening

To face the thoughts and feel the pain –

I had tried everything else,

Trying to escape not able

To think.

Climbing the ladder of


The steps do not always

Come in order.

Sometimes I slip, falling

Back on the rings of the


When it wavers and

Then begins to fall I

Hold on with dear life.

Treading on these steps

Thinking I have achieved

Then it suddenly changes.

My mind thinks in theory

Why can’t they all happen

At once?

And then I see

There are five stages in all






Of all these –


Is the answer to them all!

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The Number 7

“There Are Seven Colors In A Rainbow”

It seems that 7 is a perfect
Number –

7 days in a week, 6 days
plus one day of rest,

Makes a 7 day creation


There are –

7 continents

7 colors in a rainbow

7 seas

7 planets

7 angels

(At least that’s what Google says)

7 years is slowly approaching

If you multiply 7 times 10

It could have been close to a

Lifespan for him

But if you cut it in half, it comes

Out close to 37

It happened on the 7th day in

The 7th month, much too


But things happen !

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“With Many Tears I Traveled The Road Of Grief”

Nine years ago, in the month of July

An anniversary will take place.

Living in Nevada most of my life, I had

Decided to move, seeking something

Different, hoping to find peace and

Contentment. Little did I know, this was

Not to take place. For my son decided

He had had enough, and left this world

And a family who dearly loved him. The

News came in the middle of the night,

That call that wrings the heart in unbelief.

It was a twisting and turning on highway

88, as I traveled between the small town in

California to Reno, having to drive it several

Times with my two dogs, sick from the trip,

With many tears that almost blinded my sight.

Stopping at a roadside store for something

To eat, a kind man saw my plight, and rang

Up my bill then throwing it away, he wished

Me well. Just a simple act of kindness meant

So much. In looking back, kindnesses are

Met with thanksgiving. But I had a long

Journey of grief ahead, one that for a time would

Be forboding.


Six years, plus four months

Making seven, an event

Happened, it was never

Thought to happen, one of

Those things that happens to

Someone else, but never to


Call in the night forbidding,

She is shaking, for him looking,

A child missing never returning.


To stay or go she is wondering,

It is perplexing.

Watching him grow, playing and

Laughing, always hoping, praying

His life would be happy and


Mother and son no longer bonding,

He is sleeping, waiting for the


One night deciding, plight

Succumbing, seeming to be best,

It would be loving.

It is just too much, such awful

Thoughts resisting, nine months

Carrying, body feeding him.

A womb providing a room for

Him to grow in, a breast for


This is a testing, thoughts

Increasing, she is trying, nothing

Is helping.

Can’t explain the feelings, thoughts

Are reeling, hoping this is passing.

There is blaming, there is shaming,

Back and forth driving, twists and


Dogs vomiting , not to be late she is

Hurrying, careful the right road


Road construction frustrating

Grief succumbing, mind spinning

Depression visiting.

Unconsoling, decisions baffling,

She is resisting, she is withdrawing

People dying, fears unresolving,

Obituary disturbing, words

Troubling, this kind of death met

With frowning

Eulogy confusing


She is stopping the man is helping

His kindness enduring, turnings in

The road directing.

Storms withdrawing, passages

Protecting, comfort finding, friends

Consoling, medication helping,

Sometimes lacking.

Eyes slowly opening, ears hearing,

Tears no longer weeping.

Birds singing, sun shining, flowers

Blooming, children sharing, shadows

Lifting, she is writing, on paper


Slowly resolving, process unfolding,

She is hoping, to all things resigning.

All things loving, doors are opening

Acceptance residing!

Poem written in 2005

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A Continuing Saga Of A Mining Town Girl

“Even Though There Was Anguish And Pain,
Her Dry Parched Land Would One Day
Be Delivered From Sadness And Shame”

…reaching the crest , the children

Are sick and they stop to rest.

Looking around, scrubby bushes

And stunted trees are all they see.

Day begins to close and darkness

Falls as they stop beside the road

Of this lonely land, unloading their

Meager supplies.

A kindling of fire sizzles as they

Heat a can of beans. Chores are easy

With some coffee to pour. The sun

Begins to sink as children go to sleep

With old army blankets from the car’s

Back floor.

Sounds of the desert are frightening

At night, with coyotes, rattlesnakes

And Great Horned owls. Stars are

Clearer here, a peaceful scene after

The smoggy skies of the city lights.

Night becomes restless and the

Children are scared, the man sits by

The fire drinking beer and gin then

Laughs and grins.

Morning brings more arguing, anger

And tears with mama, and the man

Puts on his hat and boots, walking

Down the road with his bottle of

Whiskey, waving goodbye with his

Shifty eyes. While all of this is

Going on, the children wonder

Where their father is. The sun’s

Warmth is welcomed, waking these

Migrants as they hasten on. The

Children have hungry stomachs

With no breakfast and all this havoc.

There is a vastness here, of dry creeks

And ravines. Clear blue skies host mean

Black birds circling high. Coming

Around a bend on this desolate road,

There is a little mining town, they have

Finally arrived. Barely a green thing

Grows here, except by the mill where

Water washes ore and dirt on the

Mining floor. There are people all

Around panning for gold, hoping to

Make it rich. Excited they run to and

Fro, one man wins and another owes

It hits their brain making them insane.

Not much of a town, main street has

A saloon and gambling hall mixed in

One. Mama will go there till the money

Is gone. She is always dealt a shady

Hand, then in her anger she hollers

And yells and tells them to go to hell.

The smell of hamburgers and French

Fries tantalize these travelers, but for

Now they will eat potatoes and beans.

On the windy road to this town there is

A castle, some of it falling apart, with

Ruins on the ground, but the walls

are standing. The girl and boy tries to

Play here and pretend they are kings

And queens. It is a safe place to be.

When they go to their mining shack

At night, they heat up a can of Dinty

Moore stew in an old iron pot.

A one room school has mean ornery

Kids, they don’t like these children and

Shame their dirty clothes and hair. But

After awhile the kids are nice, they

Play kick the can and eat honey

Grahams, and the children begin to

Like this place, then mama decides

She wants to move on, they head for the

Wide open spaces again. Back in the

Little coup, the girl isn’t sure where

She is going, with brother, Chow, and

Now a couple of kittens…

Another continuation of

‘Mining Town Girl’

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Mining Town Girl

“They Were Mining For Silver And Gold, But
Many More Treasures Were Found, Delivering Them From
This Dreary Land”

A story of a city girl, taken at at an early age,

To a strange land of dry dusty travels, sagebrush

And serpents, her journey was long and sad,

Little did she know this was preparing her for

a better land –

It is a rainy night in the city,

And all is still. Children are

Awakened and rushed to the

Car, not sure where they are.

This is a story told of a family’s

Quest for freedom and gold.

A mama, a sister, her brother and

Someone they don’t know. All

They know, he is not their father.

The travelers leave the city in

Their blue Chevy coup, as

Children peer out the window,

Kneeling on a pillow. Going west,

Travels are long, the car is small

And they are pressed. The sister

And her brother ride in the back

With their old black chow. Mama

And whoever he is , bicker and

Argue. There is a strange smell of

Liquor as he takes a swallow. Going

East, passing the desert floor, over

Dusty sands and hills beyond, unto

The high desert. Large mountains

Loom before them, as the car climbs

The twists and turns, higher and

Higher. Shadows of the Sierra’s fade

In the distance, coming to a land of

Lavender shaded hills and ravines.

Reaching the crest the children are

Sick and they stop to rest…it’s a long

Way from LA for this little girl, who

Will become a Mining Town Girl

A continuation of this story will follow…

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Ezekiel 16

“This Man Had One Thing In Mind, To Rescue All

The song –

“A Horse With No Name”

By America, inspired me to write

This poem _

A voice is heard in a desolate land,

Oh Ezekiel, what do you have to say

Of this man, one that is searching

For a child among rocks, stones and

Burning sand?

“In A Pool Of Blood In A Pocket Of Sand He Hears
A Cry”

There is a desert under a blazing sky,

Where serpents lie. Cacti hide a tiny

Wren, it’s wings singed from the noon

Day sun, never flying as high again.

All is still, but for the horse and its rider,

Moving faster, as its hooves pound the

Clay baked ground.

On the first day of his journey, no child

Was found and in disappointment turns

His horse around. With an empty heart

And far from blest, even though he did

His best.


“He Returned To The Desert One More Time”

He could not remove the picture from

His mind and returned to the desert one

More time. Searching far and near, a cry

In the distance spurs him on.

Pulling the brim of his hat to shade his

Eyes, looking on the desert floor, in a

Pool of blood in a pocket of sand, he

Hears a child’s cry again.

Lifting this baby to his saddle side, with

His hands its tears he dries.

Cleansing with water and oil, removing

Clothes dirty and soiled. With newness

Of life the child arises, it is given a name

No longer living in shame.

The desert is turned to a river bed. The


“The Desert Is Turned To A River Bed”

Wren flys high again and with joyful song


It sings.

Living waters flow upon the earth. He

Bids the child live in a land with no more


Playing among the reeds on the river’s

Edge, no danger will come from the adder’s

Den, for there is no more sin.

All things are new because of this Man’s

Redemption Plan!

This depicts the cry of God searching for

His children.

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I Am A Miner

“I Picked And Shoveled All Day And All Night,
Nothing Moved From The Left Or The Right”

Growing up in mining towns, there were many

Mines, mills, and shafts.

We lived in one town where a mill was a short

Distance down the road, and when I would

Try to go to sleep, the sound of the mill caused

Groaning and moanings, setting up deep crevices

In my mind.

It seemed as if there was a monster with huge steel teeth

Writhing in pain, as it grunts and groans, glaring

With its fearful eyes, its tongue swinging back and

Forth, sand oozing out earth’s tailings

Here are a few descriptive poetic words to try to

Share from a child’s perspective, when the minds

Eye becomes overwhelmed;

I go to work every day with

My pick and shovel but

Not for silver and gold

The more I shovel the deeper

It gets

It is dark in here!

The earthen womb bares

Memories seen from the

Eye and heard from the ear

I pick and shovel all day and

All night, nothing moves from

The left or right

Icicles in this cave drops tears

On my mind

Drip! Drip! Never goes away


I fell asleep to the radio, the

Station went off at half past


Once again I fell asleep to the

Droning of the mill down the


The conveyor belts vibrate

And jump

Noise unbearable to hear

My mind fell into a nightmare

Many wheels spinning and

Turning in my head

Clocks ticking and chiming all

At once

Spinning, ticking, tossing in

My sleep

Sighing, crying, grinding my


Abruptly I awoke, opened wide

My eyes

Fears tucked away in the crevices

Of my mind, no peace did I find


From sleep deprivation, uncertainty, and trauma

Many years later the reason for all of this nighttime

Fright would unfold!

Poems selected from ‘The Mining Town Girl’

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The Puzzle Of Life

“No Matter What I Did, The Pieces Would Not Fit Together”

It seems as if life is like a


Trying to fit pieces together

Where they do not fit, when

One was wrong I put it down

And looked for another

There was psychology with

Their recovery books, telling me

To relax and have fun, then

Pills for depression and anxiety

Of no avail, and finally religion

Just get out of my self and help

Others, this would be the

Solution, so busy I would not

Have time to think, surely

This would be the answer to the

Missing Link

I tried many things, thinking my

Life would just fall together

Maybe like the pages I have

Written would fall into a book

Sometimes I felt like this puzzle

Of life would never be solved

Maybe I should have started

Out with playdough instead,

So pliable and easy to control

But slowly after time the pieces

Came together, I am still looking

For a few missing ones, to finish this

Picture of me, though maybe not here

But the Great Artist will finish it in heaven.

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