Prompts: Continue, Critical, &Priceless

For those surviving aftermath of Hurricane Harvey and overseas hurricane, I wrote a little something after hearing Coldplay’s Houston #1 on the radio. I just finished it today. This is my third day back home. My area didn’t have any major damages or floods compared to others around here. I thank God for that and will continue to pray for those who have so much to do in order to move on from this.

In this Critcal moment, people have lost mant things. Precious Priceless things. It is also sad to know during this fearful moment, many had to worry about looters. My area, like many, is still under curfew.

As we Continue with the aftermath of Hurricane/Tropical Storm Harvey, please take the time to read my poem. Coldplay wrote a song in Miami, Houston #1. The song inspired this poem. To listen to their song, search online search engines or Youtube.

I used to complain about the sun,

So hot, so blinding.

Rain was something that just happens.

The water so serene;

Plague of death and dismay.

Floods, food shortage, electricity outage,

Loss of homes, loss of lives

All in books, all on news.

Didn’t feel real til I was near.

Opened my eyes;

Opened my heart;

Brain’s on wire;

How can I help?

Treacherous, dangerous,

But never chainless.

As the sun rises,

The water dries,

The memories remain.

Harvey stole materials,

But never the hearts of Texas.

Enemies, friends,

Strangers, acquaintances,

Formed a bond, united as one

Helping those in need.

Damage is done.

But Harvey has not won.

Lyrics: Pry

Somebody’s drowning, I

Have lost my way.

Somebody’s chanting, I

Love the way you pry.

The bass keeps playing;

Same old song keeps ringing.

I’m going round and round

While you just stand your ground.

There’s nothing I can do.

You just had to go.

Make your way into a feud…

Strange, I couldn’t stop you….

Somebody’s drowning, I

Have lost my nerves.

Somebody’s chanting, I

Love the way you pry.

The flood keeps pouring.

Water won’t stop rising.

Oh, thunder roars and roars-

It’s nothing to allure.

Media hides away

As the world crash and burns.

Seeking corrupting a feud.

Strange, I couldn’t stop you.

Somebody’s drowning, I

Have lost my nerves.

Somebody’s chanting, I

Love the way you pry.

Rumors hold no key

In a room of two or three.

Who’s to trust you see

The snake is slithering near…

Waiting to strike!

There’s nothing I can do.

There’s nothing I can do.

There’s nothing, nothing I can do.

You just had to go.

Make your way into a feud.

No, I couldn’t stop you.

In a world soaking with needs,

Somebody’s drowning, I

Have lost my nerves.

Somebody’s chanting, I

Love the way you pry.

In a world soaking with needs,

Somebody’s drowning, I

Have lost my nerves.

Somebody’s chanting, I

Love the way you pry.

In a world soaking with needs, I

Love the way you pry.

Poetry: Bound

Baby given up with no name;

Until someone took her in- shelter from the storm;

Once nameless, now framed with a name;

Adopted by a family, last name changed;

Growing up, a feeling she never could ignore;

Secrets kept, she never once implore;

Memories lost she couldn’t restore;

Bound lost, lonely, abandoned, hopeless, dazed, and confused;

A house that felt like no home;

A family disconnected;

Betrayed of lies;

But one remained hidden deep inside;

Within her heart, a longing she couldn’t sway;

A face once without a name, named.

Had a home.

Had a family.

Had a life beyond some.

Yet, deep within,

A child once nameless,

Could never separate her from reality;

Deep within, her heart bound by

Lost, lonely, abandoned, hopeless, dazed, and confused.

Prompt: Fragile

Fragile

There once was a girl named Seraphina Rose. At her school, her name was unique compared to those. And so, Seraphina was picked on by many.

A bright and beautiful girl with lips as pure as rose. Her mind shudder as the day goes. Nights she cried and mornings she tried, but fragile still showed.

A once little girl who wore her heart on her sleeve, little did she believe her life would come to this. Burst of tears; worries and fears; her heart broken in two waiting for tomorrow. A fragile soul hoping tomorrow would be better. But the zombie life she lives still tomorrow she drives.

Prompt: Complicated+MTS: His Last Days

Prompt: Complicated

MTS- My Trending Storieshttps://mytrendingstories.com/profile/lisa-maria/

Webster’s Dictionary defines complicated as “difficult to analyze, understand, or explain.” Life is complicated. When you’re a little kid though, life wasn’t all that complicated. All the worries and stress are at a distance as you roll down a hill laughing, run with the wind, soar like you’re flying through the sky, etc. As you grow older, reality hits you. You see more and more things clearly. You watch the ones you love suffer in pain and lose them after the storm. You question everything. You question God. Why does He take away the ones you love? So many questions lead to answers that leave more questions, which are best left unanswered. Life’s complicated. We stray from the path we used to follow- a path of hopes of tomorrow- a path of love- only to find ourselves lost in anguish and destruction. Some can turn back, others are lost for good.

My mind wanders memories of my Dad who passed away last March. Within those memories, I remember the past two years my Dad used to say he wanted to spend his last days in the forest. I wonder why for I couldn’t fathom anyone living in a forest, especially on their last days. Then I see pictures of forest, hear sounds of nature’s songs and realize maybe that’s why. The forest can be many things- adventurous, dangerous, dark, scary, etc. Among the many descriptions, the forest can also be calming and peaceful.

During my Dad’s last days, I wonder if he did visit a forest. When he had moments of sleep, did he dream of walking with God through the trails? Did he sit beside a tree and hear the birds sing? Did he feel lonely? Did he feel safe?

On his last days, I remember turning on the television. He said I could flip through the channels and so I did. Channel after channel I surfed until I found some images of flowers and nature’s beauty pictured on the screen. Dad saw it and he smiled when I told him he used to say he wanted to spend his last days in the forest. I didn’t know it was really his last days. But I’m glad it made him smile to see those.

Trying to clean my room, as always I became distracted. Throwing away papers, I found a notebook. Flipping through pages, I saw a poem, which reminded me of my Dad. I know he was the reason why I sat down and found an image of a forest. I know he was the reason behind this poem. I don’t remember writing it. I don’t remember which image I looked at while writing it. But something about the forest and Dad saying he wanted to spend his last days there moved me. Something about it made me get lost in that picture enough to write this poem. According to the date and time, I wrote this poem at midnight on January 14, 2016. You would think I would remember considering it was written this year. But I don’t. The poem itself is written in another post; however, I will add it onto this one as well.

Dear God,
oh, how I wish,
I wish to be lost in a forest.
The many shades of green
and sounds of water streams.
Birds chirp a tune,
at night, campfires fume,
a peaceful walk through its trails,
calming my awakened stress.
Forest, God bless.
Sending serenity
with an owls hoot,
night time crickets,
a morning sun
to awaken the hearts.
How do I fall out of love
with a sight like that?
A melody sung
while adventures begun.
What journeys do these high trees bring?
Where does the wind blow me?
What do the animals ring?
Is there a new beginning
somewhere deep in a forest?

*peace&God Bless*
Lisa Maria

Visiting The House That Built Me…



35 years… That’s how long it’s been.

That’s how long they lived in you.

I, about 20 years.

I left seeing you in tip top condition.

Even through sickness, parents blessed to have you, took care of you.

Our house, spotless.

Now, only dust and cobwebs linger.

That deck in our backyard…

With oxygen, how Dad used to stain it from top to bottom.

Every now and then stopping to breathe.

Before I moved, he asked me to stain that deck. I gave him a hard time because I wasn’t the first he asked.

But brother kept saying he would and do, would he?

Dad almost did it on his own until I took the brush.

My legs were so itchy due to grass allergies.

Looking back, it was worth it; seeing a nice deck before I leave.

Because now all I saw has wasted away; deteriorating; rotting away.

That’s all.

Mom and Dad don’t live in you anymore.

Dad passed in March. We, Mom and I just came for memories.

Brother’s here. Insist on staying.

Says he takes care of the house.

But all I see is religious things and mom’s dolls, whatever his friends say are creepy hidden away somewhere else.

It hurts seeing you the way you are now;

Knowing how parents always kept you (as much as possible) dustless, cobwebless.

There’s so much to clean and in our one week of visit that’s all mom is trying to do.

Clean.

Prompt: Emptiness

Is the glass half full or half empty?

Does it matter? There’s something in there. How can it be empty?

I lay here with an emptiness inside me. I know I should be happy. You are not suffering anymore. Those breathing tubes, don’t need any longer. The last breath you took filled the room with sadness. Tears dropped from the eyes of loved ones. An emptiness that could never be filled. Losing a unique, very intelligent individual some cherished. They say, “Life is too short.” You had chances doctor’s say are miracles you pulled through. Last year, God gave you another year and two months with us. We should be grateful. Twenty+ years battling heart disease, diabetes, blood pressure; chest pains led to heart attacks, led to breathing tube through mouth; almost a tracheostomy, but God said, “Not today.” We should be grateful; still, an emptiness in the air. Sadness in the midst. But life is life. Whoever is left behind must pick up the pieces. Time ticks on. Even with the emptiness we still carry on. It’s life. It’s what our passed loved ones would want. Emptiness, we tread this world with only one intention, to do better.

Empty

**The Rabbit and Its Tail is now available for preorder. In loving memory of my Dad, it will be available on his birthday- July 8, 2016. Please click and visit: The Rabbit and Its Tail link. More information is posted on my blog as well as on Amazon Kindle.**