ON HOLD WAS I by Elizabeth Hipwell

On hold was I

Trapped in my 5'8.5" physique

Held tight by the pain of my past

Held captive within the confines of fear

This prevented my hungry nature from soaring

To parts unknown that promised exotic adventures

Echoes of a past not half bad,

But not half good

A confusion of creativity

Scratching

Scratching

Scratching

Until it's fingertips drip with hunger and blood

Demanding to be unrestrained

To create

To express

To speak and be heard

A little fair haired

High cheek-boned

Educated lady

Not knowing her own worth

Feeling invisible

Embarrassed for

Needing, wanting and lusting

And having the audacity to say, "I am here!"

It is difficult to plant her large frame

Take up space

In the ground

Growing roots that extend

Through the layers of her existence

Planting new seeds

That takes root in my new found hope, love, and zeal

Idealism reinstated

Sticking with it

Even in the dark night of my soul

Cognizant that a pin light flickered at the end of the tunnel

I am a big woman

Passionate, loving and thoughtful

A tad insecure

Confident, however, that it does get better

The hard part has already happened

I am stronger for it

The risks I take now are easy compared to what I've been through

Having already lost a lot

Current endeavors are less daunting

I am plugged back into life

Not on hold

-Elizabeth Hipwell

MY HALLOWEEN STORY by Margie Taylor

     It is Halloween in the year 1958.  I am 6 years old.  My mom dresses me up as a cat and takes me trick or treating. We go from house to house; we walked 3 blocks first on one side of the street, and then on the other side of the street.  My mom said, “Margie after the last house we will go home. I will make hot chocolate and we will have some cookies.”

     As I come to the last house it is all decorated for Halloween. The lights are dim and howling sounds are coming from all around. There is a carved jack o'lantern that is on the porch all lit up and it looks scary. There is a big webbed spider and a ghost hanging up on the porch and a grave yard on the side of the lawn. As I go up on the porch I have my candy bag opened.  I ring the bell and say trick or treat.

     This lady answered the door.  She too was dressed as a cat.  I looked at her.  I was stunned because she looked just like me but older.  I would say the lady was in her 30's. As I was standing on the porch I could see the inside of the house.  The lady had four children and a husband. The children were sitting in a circle with their Halloween candy on the floor.  As the lady was putting the candy in my bag my mom said, “Margie we have to start going home.”

     The Lady looks at me and said, “Oh my name is Margie too.”

     I opened my mouth wide with a surprised look on my face. As I turned toward my mom the lady said, “Trick or treat this is Halloween in the year of 1982. I am you in the future. Surprise!”

-Margie Taylor                                                                                                                        (October 31st 2012)

THE WHITE COATS by Kathan Murphy

There are deep holes in the gates of my mind. 

Delusions and hallucinations sneaking through; 
Causing me fear and pain. 
Please something help me through. 
Black figures with sticky hands and feet crawling around me and creeping in. 
They are here to take me away. 
I have to fight them! 
But how? 
The thoughts consume me chipping away at my inner soul wearing me down. 
I am sick of fighting. 
The black figures turn into doctors in white coats. 
They tie me down repeating my trauma and stick me with a needle. 
I am no longer a human but an animal barely existing behind locked doors. 
Life is no longer worth living.

-Kathan Murphy

AT THE CRACK OF DAWN by Kathan Murphy

I have never seen the crack of dawn.

My meds make me sleep too long.

My sheets and blankets are so warm I could sleep through a party at a loud college dorm.

Clozaril is my nightmare best friend but my madness is on the mend.

I am strong but unfortunately sick.

I try hard to make the best of it.

This illness is tough but I am tougher.

One day I would like to take a job offer.

People said that I would never leave the hospital but I proved them wrong.

No one is allowed to right the lyrics of my song.

I left Massachusetts to start a new life.

Maybe here I will make a good mother or wife.

Moving to Chicago was the right choice.

Here is where I will find my own voice.

 

                                                                                           -Kathan Murphy

MY CHILD WITHIN by Sharon H.

I am here
        I am there
lost within
     a bad memory,
   feel the pain
the same
       as when four years old.
holding my breath
      staying silent
      hoping it stops-
Please "Go Away1' I plead,
But my voice is silent
        and the memories
              the pain
              it remains.
want to curl up
      cry..........disappear...
want to be held....
           reassured
          that it will pass.
I am here...physically...
but my hurt
      my heart
is with that little girl
      of long ago
Crying to be loved.

Sharon H.       

ALL IN DUE TIME by Joanne Taylor

     All in due time, is what I always say, for as long as I can remember.

     I have had this life-long dream of getting married. Not just to any man, but the perfect man. He has to have a good paying job (so I would not have to work anymore), be an excellent cook (since I am terrible at it). He has to teach me how to sort laundry (because I throw everything into one washer and pray that they turn out okay). I need him to scratch my back at night so that I don’t have to jump out of bed and look for the back scratcher (my back always itches in a spot where I can’t reach it) He needs to be my electric blanket to keep me warm on those cold winter nights. This will save us money on the heating bill. I expect him to buy me a house where everything is on one floor, with a one car garage since I don’t drive. I will need three bedrooms; one for us, one for the grand kids, and the last one for his mother (I think her room needs to be at the end of the hall); two bathrooms since I have a habit of staying in there for hours at a time. A maid would be nice; to fix my meals while he’s at work, but no dishwasher (I love having my hands in water).

These are just a few things I expect from my husband, but I know this will all happen in due time.

-Joanne Taylor

AT THE END OF MY ROPE by Margie Taylor

             It was March 25^th, 2011. The call came to me. Andy said, “Are you coming home?”

            I said, “Yes.” When Jen came home I left to go home. I bought Andy six packs of Bang Bangs to smoke.

            When I gave them to Andy he said,  “Are you trying to kill me?”

            I said, “No.” I ate dinner after that.  I went down to watch TV.

            Andy was in the chair. He asked me, “Are you going to sleep?”

            I said, “No, we can talk at 9:00pm.”

            Andy’s body shook. He took his last breath. I heard it. He died in front of me.

            That was the end of my rope for me. I found myself asking God a lot of questions like, “Where and why did Andy go?”

-Margie Taylor