my father the hurricane

Profile of girl

by ursylla

For me, I was raised the right way by my mom.
When we moved to Vermont, everything changed.
I met my dad, the real dad I’d never known.
He seemed so cool at first, let me smoke cigarettes
when I was about 12, and then come 13 to 15,
I was doing my first pill with him. After that first
pill came crack, then heroin. Now this affected
my whole life! I’ve never known any different,
just what I’ve seen and done through my dad’s eyes.
I left my mom to stay with him. My mom told me
not to, but she was not smart enough or
strong enough to say “no” to my father. I hurt
her to no repair. I regret that every day! Continue reading

hearts in Boston

By Saildog Photography

By Saildog Photography

Our hearts are with the people of Boston today in the aftermath of the marathon tragedy.

In dire times like these, it is easy to succumb to hopelessness about our world, the human condition, maybe our own lives.

Instead we remain a people of hope, offering light touches of blessing and compassion where we can — today, tomorrow and the next.

This ‘found poem,’ composed of the woven words of the incarcerated women writers during a past circle together, reminds me of the daily exercise we are called to …

… one of acknowledging the suffering around us (not living in denial), yet starting over in heart and mind, refocusing our lenses to see the beauty, care and grace swirling all around us as well.


Good times become a memory,
dreams lost through selfishness.
I’m tired of living this life
waiting to be reborn in this stone cold place –
overcoming shame, my wrongdoings;
tossed and tattered, I scream — but will anyone
listen? The size of sadness cuts back like a knife.

I’m lonely, scared, terrified. I’ve pleaded
and prayed for a way to make it right,
seeking things I don’t deserve.
This life has molded me.

But good can come from nothing.

With a clean slate, I begin again,
validate these desires to start fresh
and start over, to better myself, tickle the soul
and warm the heart; to come and go as I please,
light candles in winter trees holding on
to the Divine, a good break to a bad end.

What am I waiting for?
Let me out into the snow
letting go of this life-sentence;
let me walk out of here with a smile
breathing in each different season
guided from the stars.
Let the year shine.