Haiku Horizons: Play

Bloody mud piles, play

dig your mean gut, soul, under

Won’t cry over you.

Playful pup, mint grass
Going home with family
Kisses with trust, joy.

 The play begins, hush
song notes are dancing like brides
tiptoe in white gowns.


Haiku Horizons, Train

Wedding of dreams, love

Pearl white, dress, train trailing hope

Amid sun burst clouds.



Train of thought, jumbled

dementia holds, gnarly grip

blank eyes staring back.

Shove, push, jump, screaming
Train tracks, easy vehicles
Self-harm, blood, guts, death.





Carry on Tuesday: Rain, rain, go away

Storm Clouds

Storm Clouds (Photo credit: freefotouk)

Scott and Sarah were days away from their honeymoon, excited to be going to Paris, France after their  sunny and warm wedding reception in Boston, MA. They couldn’t think of a more romantic place to go than Paris. To be in love and to be in Paris, enchanting and delightful, they imagined long walks, holding hands on the small, cobbled streets and kissing furtively behind hidden doorways. They couldn’t wait for the chocolate croissants, standing in the sunshine,  many cups of lush, thick coffee with cream, a different apple or pear pastry for every meal…..the intoxicating smell of freshly baked bread wafting on the side streets.

They arrived two days after their wedding reception, having spent one night in a luxurious room overlooking the Boston Harbor, a gift from their friends. They had been driven there from the reception, Sarah, still in her wedding dress and white sneakers, Scott in his immaculate dark blue suit and maroon tie. Sarah refused to change into another dress, it was her wedding after all and she delighted in seeing other people point at her and gasp: “a bride!” When little girls with pigtails looked at her in awe she smiled and waved at them. Watching a bride, when she was a girl, was always magical.

Their plane left in the evening and they flew on TWA straight to Paris. They arrived, excited, happy, in love, dreams dancing in their eyes. The weather the first day was colder than they thought it would be. Sarah, secretly thanked her mother who had insisted she bring a raincoat in her luggage.

The sky was gray and dark, winds were chilly and it rained within the hour. They made their way to their tiny hotel, dragging their suitcases through city streets until they finally reached their destination. Sarah was not happy about that, there were no rolling suitcases back then and she was tired, cranky and hungry and just wanted to close her eyes. Scott refused to take a taxi, absolutely refused, Sarah was furious and thus their honeymoon started.

Every day of their vacation in France was cold and it rained every single day. “Rain, rain, go away” Sarah sang out loud but she only got angrier when the rain did not let up. To try to get away from the weather they decided to rent a car and head South, they would salvage their honeymoon. However, wherever they went, the rain followed, the winds blew freezing air and the skies were dark gray.

Sarah was there over her birthday and they had eaten lunch in a rest stop on a toll road. They both ate chicken with rice pilaf. It tasted fine, but within an hour, Sarah was throwing up violently, over and over again. It was the worst case of food poisoning she had ever had. “Happy Birthday, ME” she muttered to herself, swishing her mouth out with Coke. They cautiously drove to a quaint, old town in the country where they stayed in a beautiful, old castle. From the outside it looked like a movie set but once inside it was eery and dark. There was no light in the hallways and in their room except for one hanging bulb, swinging from a thin rope.

They called it “the honeymoon from hell”, they couldn’t wait to get back to the US and their apartment. It was the worst vacation they had ever taken. Once home, Sarah, who had packed only one warm, black sweater as an after thought, ended up wearing it every day for two solid weeks. The first time they lit a fire in their fireplace, she tossed the black sweater in the fireplace, along with their memories and happily watched them burn up in flames.

Driving Down A Dark Highway

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

Image via Wikipedia

It was just a split second but  while I was driving, I totally wanted to pull a “Thelma and Louise.” Not out of excitement or adventure but out of despair. It really only takes that long to off yourself and the passenger beside you. The conscious part of me was saying “no” but the other part of me was just saying “what the hell?” I wanted to end the misery in my life and let go but I didn’t.

I am at an all time low so anything after this should theoretically get better. But, there is no guarantee; we could keep going down to a depth we had no idea existed. It still wasn’t an excuse to swing wide on a dark highway at night, put my foot down, accelerate and disappear. That’s not the way to go, to give up, to not fight the good fight to be alive when so many others are dying. You deserve to have a life, a happy one.

During that long stretch on the black highway I keep my brights on to keep going. Continuing to drive was automatic, I followed the white lines of the curves ahead slowly and steadily. When two cars came in front of me I was grateful. I never liked driving at night, I have no choice now. I don’t have a choice in a lot of things but that is still much better than some. After arriving back to where we are staying temporarily, I pulled my dog close to me and nuzzled into her neck. Her black and white paws, with tan freckles, reached my shoulders and she hugged me, she knew.

I washed some blueberries that I bought at the store today, fresh blueberries, with the varying shades of bluebirds. Other than fruit cups in fake silver bowls in diners, I hadn’t had fresh fruit in a long time.  I put them on the middle of the bed, on the white blanket, and liked the contrast. I fed a few to my dog who chewed them with utter joy.

I followed the noise to loud music and saw there was a wedding. I saw the bride, dressed in white with silver trim posing for pictures with her sisters and mother.  I wasn’t jealous since I had been a bride too many years ago but I was definitely envious. She was young and this was the start of her life; she looked so happy and everyone around her was giggling and shrieking in high pitch voices. Seeing a bride, my parents used to tell me, “brings good luck” so I lingered and watched from behind a corner.

Everyone is allowed a dark day once in a while. You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t experience them. We all need to cling to the hope that tomorrow or the next day WILL be better. Suicide is not the answer. Hold on, hold on tight, cling to your own precious life. On this National Suicide Day, take it from me. DON’T DO IT.  If you need help, call somebody, anybody, the Suicide Prevention Center or a really good friend and pray for strength to hold on. Promise me, you will hold on tight.