Poetry Corner ~ Calling all Poets!!

“Little Person”

She sits there; the strong one,

Perched high on that throne,

Ruthless and calculating to all who meet her,

Because a scared little person is who she really is inside,

She deflects by joking about all her bitter situations,

As if nothing ever really deeply troubles her,

Her soul hidden by armored walls,

She’s crumbling and her soul is almost non-existent,

They want to get close to her and help her,

The fools want to fix her problems with their weak bandages,

They want to coddle her like a small child,

But she won’t let them manipulate her any longer.

Written by Becky Illson-Skinner

September 20, 1996

Poetry Corner ~ Calling all Poets!

“Ghosts”

My ghosts they taunt me from the sidelines,

Laughing all the while for my benefit,

If I could only decipher their words of advice,

Maybe I could unwind all these twists,

But they are so muffled all rambling together,

Their words and actions don’t register in my mind,

Hercules a pillar of strength is what they see,

Don’t they realize that their taunting is killing me?

If they would just shut up or go back to sleep,

I could finally be at peace within my soul,

I know it is my fault; after all, I am the one that invited them in,

I just never imagined they would stay so long,

And nobody ever told me how to get rid of them…

Written by Becky Illson-Skinner

September 9, 1996

Poetry Corner ~ Calling all Poets!!

Yeah! It's POETRY TIME AGAIN :-)

“Strength”

That visitor of strength I love to hate,

Although I adore you most of time and look at you in awe,

You’re so decided so sure of your direction,

You often leave me in the dust to deal with the pain,

I feel like such an undecided fool,

I need you to come and plant roots in my mind,

Never abandon me again,

Help me to decipher between all the right and wrong,

Give me the strength to heal and thrive,

Don’t leave me on the edge living in greyness,

Let me see things through vivid laughing eyes,

I need that armored shell of strength surrounding me,

Because with it, I will flourish!

Written by Becky Illson-Skinner

September 8, 1996

Poetry Corner ~ Calling all Poets!

“The Cell”

She is a prisoner so alone in her cell, trapped there, the key nowhere to be found.

A ray of light filters in. Is that a ray of hope?

No…it’s just a crack in her mind.

The dampness here is never ending and the sell of mold attacks her senses.

In the darkness she claws at her cell until her fingers bleed from desperation and decides to quit.

She huddles in a corner as the tears fall in silence.

Truly painful in their wake...

How long will these walls hold her captive?

When will she be paroled for all her good deeds?

Nobody has any idea because they are no aware,

That she is trapped here and screaming for rescue.

So they all go about their lives and leave her there to rot.

Written by Becky Illson-Skinner

September 21, 1996

Poetry Corner ~ Calling ALL Poets!

The Painter

The canvas is ready and my brush is poised,

I’ll be the painter and fill this blank space,

The scene I wish to aspire to is attainable,

With all its warmest and richest shades,

There are only ripples of darkness in this picture,

I see a sky so blue and clear,

With a few white clouds sporadically placed,

After all, life would be so boring without some challenges,

I also see a huge mountain that forms to a peak,

Representing that most roads worth traveling are usually up hill,

But when you reach the top fulfillment shall be present,

At the top of this mountain is a castle in all its glory,

In which I shall of course be queen,

Living my life as I see fit and happiness around me,

Below this is a valley that is flourishing with flowers and trees,

The colors are so enticing and beautiful,

That the onlooker can almost feel their rhythm and joy,

And then of course there is a gorgeous waterfall that flows into a river,

The most vibrant color that you’ll ever lay eyes on,

You’ll want to search it time and time again,

To see if you can find all the hidden treasures there,

This is so picturesque and calming for the soul,

That I lay down my brush and feel satisfied.

Written by Becky Illson-Skinner

Poetry Corner ~ Calling ALL Poets!

Sometimes

Sometimes I feel so numb and sometimes I feel so focused and sometimes I feel so confused and sometimes I feel so useless and sometimes I feel full of joy and sometimes I feel so bitter and sometimes I feel so complete and sometimes I feel so empty and sometimes I feel so directed and sometimes I feel so lost and sometimes I feel so controlled and sometimes I feel I’m wild and sometimes I feel satisfied and sometimes I don’t and sometimes I feel lonely and sometimes I feel crowded and sometimes I feel strong and sometimes I feel weak and sometimes I’m so scared and sometimes I have courage and sometimes I have goals and sometimes I have no idea and sometimes the two blend into one of the same and there is no way I can tell which one is really me – the great chameleon and sometimes I’m quite certain of who I am and what I’m about.

Written by Becky Illson-Skinner

Poetry Corner ~ Calling ALL Poets!

The Beast

This beast – my body – is beating me once again,

I feel like a slave to its needs,

It’s a wanton beast that loves to be visited,

After awhile, the face and name no longer matter,

The places I’ve been and the trouble I’ve seen,

Is the fault of the beast!

It controls my mind and I loose sight for a while,

But when I awaken from the ride,

I always find the journey un-fulfilling,

A great pretender is what I am,

Thinking I’m controlling this beast when it controls me,

I’ve raped myself over and over again,

Just to satisfy that hungry beast,

One day I’ll betray it and stop the madness,

The game will have a new sight and feel.

Written by Becky Illson-Skinner

Poetry Corner ~ Calling ALL Poets!

Your Coat of Many Colors

That coat of many colors that you display upon your back,

You’ve worn it really well; it serves your life’s needs,

You only let through what you want it to portray,

You shed each color as it suits you according to your needs,

I was fooled by what you represented yourself to be,

You’re a wolf in disguise in that beautiful coat,

Each color represents a side of your emotions; I’ve learnt them well,

The blue represents the playful you that only emerges when it’s to your advantage,

The yellow represents your warmth and affection, it is rarely ever seen,

The green represents your jealous and distrusting soul, as you are well aware of your unfaithfulness,

The red represents your anger which is the one you’ve almost warn to death,

The white represents purity and wellness; you are not allowed to wear that one,

And of course, let’s not forget the black, which represents just how evil you are.

Written by Becky Illson-Skinner

An Ode to A Christmas Carol

Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol is a story written with not only a clear theme in mind, but stands out as a masterwork born of deeply held personal beliefs and a strong political agenda.

A Christmas Carol, the classic tale of the redemption of the misanthropic Ebenezer Scrooge by the Three Ghosts of Christmas, has never been out of print. It has been adapted to film, opera, stage, and is a staple of the culture of Christmas to this very day. You cannot turn on a television without seeing one of its many manifestations, and countless writers of drama have riffed on the three ghosts with their heartwarming -- and heartwarning -- message.

The times in which Charles Dickens lived were dichotomous. The Victorian Age held the promise of modernity -- technology and manufacturing were leaping ahead, providing every convenience to the privileged classes. People at this time were experiencing a resurgence in affection for some of the forgotten traditions of Christmas, even while new fads were taking hold, such as the Christmas card, and, thanks to Prince Albert's German heritage, the Christmas tree.
Meanwhile, out of sight, people of the working class struggled in worse circumstances than ever before. Starvation, disease, debtor's prisons, a class divide as wide and as deep as despair itself.

"This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both,
and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy,
for on his brow I see that written which is Doom,
unless the writing be erased.

Dickens' own situation, in which he found himself working as nearly an indentured servant to pay off family debt, led him to write about the terrible living and working conditions of the working class. His work detailing the desperation of the poor seeking legal redress through a labyrinth that seemed gamed helped to enlighten the public on the machinations and byzantine bureaucracy of the British legal system. This need to communicate a social reform view culminated in the manifesto that was A Christmas Carol. The character of Ebenezer Scrooge personified what Dickens saw as a dangerous prevailing attitude toward the poor, one of willful blindness combined with a posture of sitting in judgement rather than helping. From the Wikipedia article: "Dickens asks, in effect, for people to recognise the plight of those whom the Industrial Revolution has displaced and driven into poverty, and the obligation of society to provide for them humanely."

Deftly working in the atmosphere of the age, in which a reader may very nearly taste the plum pudding, and smell the goose cooking (in more ways than one), Charles Dickens swept open the curtain upon a dreadful tableau, much as the Ghost of Christmas Present revealed the two unwanted children of Man, Ignorance and Want.
I don't know exactly what I'm trying to communicate myself, with this post. I'm up to my eyeballs in wrapping paper and cookie icing, and I swear, I swear, there is dough in my hair. But I do know this: In the same way that a thematic political statement may contain a compelling narrative, so may a compelling narrative contain a very visible theme. (Try that, vampire mystery writers tying their novel to themes of teenage alienation.) And that once there was a writer out there, perhaps the most heard of his and many generations, who, when considering what 'theme' he could apply to his works, not only did not flinch, but strode boldly ahead to create one of the most powerful messages to humanity ever.
Wasn't that fun? Now -- don't shrink -- go write something big.
Kate Burns

What Can YOU Write in 6 Sentences?

Hi everyone,

KIRSTEN AND MOLLY

I usually pick some fairly dark, deep passage to share and was hoping maybe I could try something more upbeat and happy for a change :-)

As I sit here preparing posts for the MYSTERY WRITERS UNITE blog, I can hear my eight year old daughter, Kirsten,  playing with our four month old American Cocker Spaniel, Molly. Kirsten keeps running from one end of the house and of course Molly takes the bait each time and is hot on Kirsten's heels. During this time Kirsten's laughter and squeals fill the air and it's like music to my ears. The laughter is so real and raw and you can tell it comes from deep within and bursts through the surface sure and strong. Molly during this time surprisingly enough is quiet - she does not bark or cry but just enjoys the play time being provided. I love that they are entertaining each other; growing and learning.

What can YOU write in six sentences? Give it a try!

Poetry Corner ~ Calling all POETS!!

Another week of SLAMMIN POETRY!! WHOO WHOO!! 

As all of you know, I love the way we can express ourselves through writing and I find poetry is a wonderful way to express happiness, fear, longing, desire, anger, frustration, and so many more emotions!

My submission this week is another really old poem that I wrote. To this day, I still remember who it was directed at and why....

I'm Glad

Did the salt I rub in your open wound hurt?

Did you feel the sharp blade of my cruel tongue?

Good, I'm glad you've at least suffered some.

Did you hurt from a memory that hovers in your conscience?

Did you bleed because I no longer care and you know it?

Good, I'm glad I can affect you.

Did you hate my words and the meeting they held?

Did you dislike my honesty with you?

Good, I'm glad I can teach you something.

Did you rage inside and want to erase me?

Did you scream in frustration?

Good, I'm glad you've felt that way for once.

Did you hate me at that moment and want to see me suffer?

Did you feel shame at your irresponsibility?

Good, I'm glad we're even!

What Can YOU Write in 6 Sentences?

Hi everyone,

My six sentences this week for your reading pleasure....lol

I thought of you today and discovered I still miss you. How did you become such a part of me? Sometimes thoughts of you bring comfort and at other times pain. I'm reminded of your restless spirit and your piercing brown eyes that never seemed to really smile. How I longed to take away that pain and support you until you were whole again. I now realize I was wasting my time because your demons live to deeply within your soul.

What can you portray in 6 sentences? Love, Loss, Anger, Fear, Joy....Give it a try!

Becky

Poetry Corner ~ Calling all POETS!

Poetry ROCKS --- What a great way to express yourself! Take a turn...take a chance...come with me...lets have a dance :-)

My submission this week is a very old poem that I wrote many years ago (see date) about a year after I left my husband who had physically abused me for five years....

Final Words and Truth

I feel I have to find a way to vent these bitter feelings and pain,

So, I picked up my pen and hoped I could do it through writing,

I'm sure for some people this will be hard to take and even harder to understand,

Why someone with an attitude and personality like mine would be at the mercy of any man,

I could never figure out why his soul was filled with such hate and anger,

And then to my fearful realization on many nights when I was visited by the dark side of this, my husband, the stranger,

As his attacks upon my flesh became more and more brutal,

I became filled with such frustration,

And yet I still had no idea on how to deal with an d put an end to this bitter devastation,

My body, mind and soul being so betrayed by his iron fists,

And my heart breaking more and more each time he tightened his grip,

I had to get over being so recklessly deceived,

to learn how to stand and walk again so I could fight for me,

So as scared as I was and although I was weak,

I knew I would have to eventually crawl on my knees and then stand on my own two feet,

So, one cold day many years ago,

I decided to have a new devotion,

My heart and body had suffered long enough and became my own healing potion,

I didn't need and didn't want sympathy from my friends,

All I needed was them to be strong for me when my belief started to sway again,

Now I'm stuck to live here with all the guilt and shame,

Only because I refused to share this mans house and name,

He was cruel and bitter and a very lost soul and the harder I tried to make things right, the worse he would get,

What most don't realize is that if I didn't leave when I did,

Instead of facing that I'm divorced, you'd be facing my death,

So sit up there on your high throne and judge me all you want you see,

but this sould had to be once and for all...no strings attached -- just FREE.

Written by Becky Illson-Skinner 

November 4, 1991

What can YOU Write in 6 Sentences?

Hi everyone,

Here are my six sentences for this week :-)

I had to go to the dentist recently to have a wisdom tooth removed. I will let you in on a little secret - I hate going to the dentist and need to take at least three Ativan just to let them clean my teeth. I didn't take anything for this particular appointment because I figured why bother since I'm going to be put to sleep anyway. How was I to know that my waiting time to get into the appointment was going to be double the wait because they happen to be short staffed? By the time I got into the chair not only was I nervous but I was also a little annoyed. The good news is that once they got started I was put out and it was over before I knew what happened.

What can YOU write in 6 sentences? Give it a try :-)

Becky

Poetry Corner ~ Calling all POETS!!

I'm really hoping some of the GREAT authors of poetry that I know are out there because I've tweeted or chatted with them, begin to partake in this weekly ONLINE POETRY SLAM! I'm tired of "winning" every week by default...lol

Here is my submission this week (WARNING: NOT FOR YOUNG READERS):

Longing, Lust and Desire

The mind is a powerful thing and mine is a sea of relentless sexual torture as I sit here thinking of you,

I started with a blank canvass that is now filled with images that mock me,

The vivid picture that has come to life in my minds eye has left me yearning and wanton,

Imagine the sky is a mixture of light clouds and blue sky, the sun is out and yet a slight rain is falling,

You stumble upon me laying in the lush grass under a maple tree in the corner of the yard,

I'm naked and the cool rain is falling upon my heated flesh, enhancing my erotic thoughts, which are already plentiful,

You watch as I lightly trace a droplet that has fallen between my breasts with the tips of my fingers,

My skin feels electrically charged and as my fingers continue to caress, my eyes close and my back arches pushing my breasts forward,

A frustrated sigh escapes my lips, my dark nipples are hard and jutting begging to be touched,

I am longing for you to be beside me pressing your naked body against mine our legs entwined,

As I lay there touching myself I can almost feel your hands knotted in my hair as you pull me to you and claim my mouth with yours,

Your tongue a mixture of sweet and spicy as you probe the depths of me, you are sure, slow and demanding more,

My hips rock against your cool thigh and you feel the warmth of my heated excitement,

You thrust your hardness against me as your hands cup my behind and pull me closer, you strain for control gritting your teeth,

I open myself to you and inch by inch my body claims you, wrapping you within walls of warm pleasure,

You move your hips slowly and purposefully as we cling to each other, our eyes locked in shared passion,

The waves of pleasure rising and falling, rising and falling, our breath is labored, muscles taunt,

You feel me tighten around you and as I breach the crest I call out your name, my nails dig into your back,

Control is now a distant memory as you move more urgently, one hand holding my hips down while the other pulls my hair,

Your body tenses, your face contorts in lust as you twitch inside me filling me with your warm seed,

Languid and momentarily spent we lay in the wet grass still embraced our eyes saying what words cannot.

Written by Becky Illson-Skinner

What Can YOU Write in 6 Sentences?

Hi everyone,

It's that time of week again on Mystery Writers Unite where you need to interact with us and show us WHAT YOU CAN WRITE IN SIX SENTENCES! Great fun...how much happiness, sadness or anger can you convey in six tiny sentences? Let your writer come play and see!!

Here is my submission this week:

She was on the ground laughing so hard she thought she was going to pee her pants! Never in all her 43 years had she ever seen something so delightfully funny or endearing. Her sides ached and the muscles of her cheeks burned from this laughing fit and still she could not stop. People passing by were looking at her and pointing and talking amongst themselves, probably thinking she was a little crazy. Suddenly, the laughter stopped and she thought she had control of it. Just one look at her 8 year old daughter proved her wrong.

Have a great day!

Becky

Poetry Corner ~ Calling all POETS

It's POETRY day on Mystery Writers Unite :-)

If you've stumbled upon this page and you like poetry, please check out some of the previous posts for Poetry corner and let your creative spirit loose and post a comment!

Here is my submission this week:

Look at Me

Look at me; I mean really look at me, a penetrating look into the depths of my eyes.

Tell me. What do you see?

If you do not see the wounds within my soul, then you've not looked deep enough.

If you do not see a flesh and blood person that bleeds when they are cut, then you have only scratched the surface.

All of me is in here just waiting for release, a release that I thought I had found so many times before.

The unworthy ones that tried to touch my soul, are they even worth my remembrance?

I doubt it and it doesn't really matter since thy are gone and you are here.

You stand before me filled with such sweet promise and I want to take that plunge but I'm scared and bruised although not yet broken.

Will you be the one?

The first one to really look at me, a penetrating look into the depths of my eyes?