Finally Released From My Hell ...

Finally Released From My Hell ...
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@GeeGranny on Twitter

My poor body trying to shelter me from the rain
It sits here with me ... inside with my thoughts
The sad thing is ... me and this body can feel things


It's like being in an old house
When the wind blows ... the house moves
It creaks ... tries to hold itself together


The rain rolls off this body's head into my eyes
This body's hands reach up to wipe this face
Tears mix with rain ... teardrops turn into raindrops


Homeless ... no place to go ... I sit here in this worn out body
Me ... I'm trapped inside ... I want to fly away
Like a ship anchored ... this body holds me down


The only way for me to soar
Is for this body to lay down ... die
Until then ... I am at the mercy of the shell that traps my very soul


I feel pain as another person walks by me sitting here
This body ... and me ... feeling the pain as a foot shoots out
Kicking me in the chest ... kicking a pile of trash aside


This mouth cries out ... no one hears ... too many busy bodies
Going about their business while lots of  me's ride in different bodies
Older, worn out bodies fall along the side if lucky


If not lucky ... a foot from another body kicks it out of the path
Life is cold ... dark from where this body sits
All it can do is wait to die ... with me trapped inside


Like a fox peeping out from under a log ... I, myself ... me
Sit inside this body ... not wanting to live ... have no choice but, to
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad ... if it didn't feel all this pain


Bodies bleed ... bodies hurt ... they are strong yet ... so fragile
They house the strongest, smartest of minds
Only the mind can travel ... where the body can't


My mind ... me ... travels afar ... to where it's warm, dry
The sad thing is ... when I'm finished ... I have to come back
I can't go to another body ... but, mine


Sitting here ... trapped inside ... I have no choice
But ... to go where this old body goes
Feel all this old body feels ... this is my house, my shelter


It's been rocked by many storms ... I see one coming now
As I feel horrific pain from its blow
Another foot kicks this body ... tossing it farther off the path


My body lies there ... growing still and cold
Dying ... releasing me ... releasing me and my soul
I fly away ... I don't look back ... I'm released from my Hell





Note by this Author:


Sitting here this morning ... I'm the only one up ... I am listening to very quiet, soft music ... this is the poem that was born from my thoughts.  I have no idea 'why?' ...


Why do writers write?  Why do they think the things they do?  Why do their words reflect this ... reflect that?  Why do people want to read no matter how crazy, wonderful, sad?  I know why? I do.  I want to see what comes out of another mind ... inside another body.


Sometimes ... like my words at this moment ... reading something that's ... off the wall ... can make your brain feel as if it's twisting around to look at things in a ... different way.  My brain feels like it had a work-out while in the throes of writing this poem.  :)


I wrote it ... it's out of my mind ... my body now ... released into the universe to all the bodies that give minds a shelter.  Some bodies are wonderful ... some are in the most terrible shapes ... houses ... some are so comfortable ... others are pure Hell.


I think back to when my only child died ... I couldn't get away from myself ... me.  I was trapped ... inside myself with tormenting thoughts, the worst pain a person could suffer ... the death of their child.  Me ... I couldn't get away from ... this body.


Thankfully ... the day came after years ... me, myself and I ... and my thoughts can live in the same body ... peacefully.  As my body grows older ... my thoughts are like a calm sea ... when they come to the memories of my child.


Photo, poem owned and written by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

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Dusted Memories ... Go Away

Dusted Memories ... Go Away
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@grannygee

Dusting off memories from storage
In the back of my mind ... I take several out
To examine, look at ... to connect the dots

Connect the dots from events in my life
To tie in things to make them make sense
Too many mysteries ... takes time to connect

Many things don't seem to be related
Until ... looking very closely ... ah-hhh, there's the connection
Hints, clues pointing to where the next line is drawn

Most people have a normal life
You live each day in a good way, you raise your children
Go to church, go on vacation ... you are family-oriented

My life has never been that way
Oh, I got a little taste now and then to see
See for a very short time ... how this feels, how that felt

My life would make a very interesting movie
One I wouldn't want the world to know
Too much grief, too much pain ... too many secrets

Secrets I will carry to my grave ... never talk about
I force myself to forget ... as time goes on, I do
Until all becomes a memory, stored in my mind

Rarely, do I take certain memories out, I can't
Pain unlike you've ever experienced if you've lived a normal life
You can't ever understand ... you wouldn't believe

Experiences most women never have ... I have
Many bad things have happened in my life ... I am still here
Standing here like a Redwood Tree ... silent, strong, weather-beaten

Inside my bark, limbs, leaves are many memories
From storms gone by, storms you've never known the likes of
Here, I sit ... dusting memories off ... I wonder if I can look

Some memories go back, too painful for me to bear
Like the gold/red upholstered chest in my art room
Tommy's chest ... I want to look inside ... I can't

The light-weight lid isn't heavy ... I can't lift it
I'm not strong enough, yet ... but, I'm strong enough to pick it up
I may die of pure grief if I open it up ... there's things in there

I can't touch, I can't face ... they are in a little pastel, green box
Photos ... of my son ... laying in under the light ... in a coffin
Memory of my hand touching his head ... oh my God, the back of his head

A mother's fingers touching a place she shouldn't have found
Little hard places, what are they?  Oh my God, stitches ... a scar
From the autopsy ... I was grieving so much, I forgot

My Heart is dripping tears inside ... warning, I might drown
Drown in my own grief in front of everyone ... all you see is a smile
Never knowing what's in my mind ... my grieving mother's mind

What a happy, beautiful smile I have ... one to put you at ease
Making you know somehow, all is going to be all right
Not a care in the world ... you don't see a thing

All I do silently ... is invisible; I'm the greatest magician in the world
I can do many things in front of you, you never see
My mind is busy as it dusts the memories off ... from the past

Guess what memory this is, what that is ... oh, you can't see
I am the greatest magician, not only that ... greatest poker player
You can't see anything I do ... because I have the best poker face

I have played the cards of life ... I have won a few, lost a lot
I'm not bitter ... I've learned life's that way
Life, death, secrets will ... go with me to my grave

Life, death, secrets ... strange things that make a great movie
Can never be told, never be shared in this life
It's time to put these dusted memories back in place

Emotions, sick feeling inside ... these weren't the memories
I wanted to remember ... sometimes, it happens this way
Dusted memories ... go away



Note by this author:    Don't feel sorry for me ... I am still standing ... everything is all right.

Photos are of my artwork, myself, Tommy's Chest ... poem written from feelings ... from a deep place inside me.  All are owned by me... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@grannygee