Clown Face

Her face was painted white
the ancient symbol of death
yet now it's supposed to be funny. 
I guess we have decided to laugh at  death.

Above her eyes were exaggerated 
square eyebrows far above her real ones.
The laugh lines around one eye were painted black
the other eye had a tear drop. Symbols of laughter 
symbols of sadness. The tip of her nose 
was a bright red, a round circle.
Her lower lip was painted the same red and down into her chin,
a sort of triangle, a body with outstretched arms.
At he end of those arms on the clowns cheeks were small hearts 
that were hands. The nose was the head, the mouth the body.
It was a symbol of service to the world. 

Her name was ResuRebo (Resurrection and Reborn)
and I miss her.

Maple Leaf (Haiku)

 

Maple leaf sliding
silently down to green earth
red color prevails

Face Your Fear

Why is it so hard for me

to be able to be seen

as capable in my own right

and valuable to a team?

Why is it so hard for you

to see here a real person,

not the weirdo you think I am, 

and that I can contribute too?

Why the discrimination?

What is it you're afraid of?

Who is it that's really challenged?

When will you see God's creation?

Stop! And look in the mirror;

ask yourselves all these questions.

What are the answers you're getting?

The circumstance should be clearer.

If you're honest with yourselves

you will have to acknowledge 

a form of stigma and bias

we've always known exists ourselves.

It's time to make a change here.

Please don't wait any longer.

Exclusion causes us great pain

and you need to move past the fear.

Old Friend

Warm feelings, like candle glow in the night.
Soft remembrances, holding each other tight.
Intense sensations, fires burning hot and bright.
Warm feelings, like candle glow in the night.

Lying Snake

A lie is like a snake:
it slithers on the ground
and finds it's course
and winds it's way around.

It can shed it's skin
as it becomes giant
It uses the tongue
to probe and find clients.

It eats it's prey alive;
swallows, gulps it whole
uncaring and cold
the poison takes it's toll.

Odd Person Out

I must have looked so pathetic,
walking on by the party
to which I was not invited;
it was actually prophetic.

I always was the odd one out,
always looking in and on.
couldn't help going past there anyway.
I guess I was hoping for a shout.

The shout never came, you all know
because you remained silent
while I walked sorrowfully by,
just one person could have said "Hello."

I craved a chance to say good-bye
to the man I had admired 
and for whom I volunteered,
but he wasn't there as I strolled by.

Anacrostic #1

Sadness...
Creeping like fog
Always advancing
Rarely absent
Ever emerging
Darkness envelops.

Alliteration Gone Wild

Politicians

play puppeteer

promoting public performances

producing personal profitable projects

The Prisons

The ice cold steel bars 

are inside my own head.

The guards are not.

Oh, to be anywhere instead!

I can't make a move

I can't appear to think.

The One outside

keeps me and holds me in this clink

I don't know what's worse,

the jail that's inside,

the one in my soul,

or the prison I'm in outside.

Seth

His blue eyes grabbed me
and I couldn't escape
I was caught forever 
in his optical embrace.

Next was his laughter
which carried me away
I was transported to
a sexy, heavenly place.

Then there came his touch,
so gentle and so light
A response was shivered
but my body had no fight.

At last came the kiss
and I melted  right there
but I wanted far more,
whatever there was in store.

Winter Eyes (Haiku) (Republished)

His steel blue eyes,

Icicles piercing my heart,

Freezing it in love. 

©2012 Cherie R. Boeneman

On The Road

If I could,

I'd drive all day.

Free on the road

choose the way.

I love speed,

I love power.

No one to bow

to or cower.

Driving calms me

on a bad day.

I can just think,

I get away.

I'd keep going

for days sometimes.

Not caring where

or on whose dime.

The road is where

I'd rather be

All I can see

and I'm free.

Step-Grandma

I had a step-grandma,
she was a witch.
I couldn't stand her,
I want to say *itch.

She locked my aunt
with Down's Syndrome
down in the basement,
not much of a home.

She took my poor grandpa
for a real ride
She took his assets
and then took his pride.

"Wicked *itch of the West";
what I called her
She deserved it
and all kinds of slurs.

I don't much like thinking
of folks this way
but she quite earned it
'most every day.

It was all I could do
not to scream out.
But I kept the peace
yet got my aunt out.

My grandpa passed on first
which was too bad,
because she kept it all,
the sowish old bag.

Propinquity (Republished)

I have heard that
absence makes
the heart grow fonder

but I know that
isn't true;
the heart will wander.

Closeness is what
really works;
near likeness is best.

The more akin
people are,
their affairs are blest.

So if you want
someone true
try to look nearby;

maybe next door
or at work
he'll catch your eye.

Ignore cliches,
what you've heard
absence is absurd.

Older, Not Dead*

Older doesn't mean dead
a significant phrase for those
who love in December.

The feelings are intense
very real, very sexy, hot;
don't have to remember.

Passion is plainly seen 
and felt and heard, it can be wild.
There are hot embers.

I want him to touch me
in so very intimate ways
with hands and member.

I have come late in life
to enjoy these fruits of sweet love;
I'm not May but September.*

*"For all the men I've loved before..."

Mirrors of the Soul (Republished) *

Like the reflection
of the sun off a mirror
are his eyes when he smiles.

Dancing twinkles fly
as blue birds, darting, chasing
quick as his inner spirit.

Unshakeable steel
when serious or angry,
solid as his fortitude.

As morning blue skies,
whispy as clouds in light breeze
soul soft as his compassion.

Complicated always,
never easy to read;
his eyes - his sensuous soul.

*For SML

Pirhanas (Haiku)

Pirhanas sharp teeth
precede them in the water
Bite worse than the bait.

The Art of Manipulation.

Manipulation doesn't get me anywhere;   
some people seem to thrive that way.           
I do not understand the difference,  
why other people they can sway.            

I used to be better at that special art;
maybe children can pluck the heart.
I don't  know clearly when I lost the touch.
Maybe I just need a fresh start.

I am trying to fight fire with fire, is the thing.
Men who do it for a living
are using their skills in some unique ways.
What they do should cause misgivings.

They tell only partial truths to pacify me;
deny it all when confronted.
I don't know if it's them or it's their boss;
It doesn't matter if they agree.

There are so many more things that they do to me
that it's hard to keep up with them.
I need to start keeping a written list.
So I can be fighting not flee.

The Slave

It's an irresistible pull from the grave
calling out to me, requiring my presence.
Like hypnosis, behavior controlled
not from autonomy but from the slave.

A slave who felt the call, the pull on himself
required now to endlessly repeat the sequence.
Inner impulse, outward obsession
like a book he can't put back on the shelf.

"Onward!" he exclaims," keep moving on, move out"
Inexorably we gravitate to the end.
"What will it be like?" I want to ask
Hearing my thoughts the slave shrugs and shouts:

"The time is come! Prepare you the way this day!"
The fog closing around us clings like an old coat
Closer and colder it penetrates.
I grasp the cold is me, am dismayed.

"Why tremble you?" asks the slave slithering on.
"You asked to be here and you found your own pathway
Why sound anxious now. you got your wish."
 I look around and see: I am Gone.

Death (Haiku)

Death creeps up on me

Quiet as clouds in the sky

One day I'm just gone.

In The Wilderness

My spirit is dry

feelings are gone

except desperation

and some hopelessness.

A most worthless rock

dust to moredust

spirit to nothingness

soul to absurdness.

Desert so arid

soul so empty

void fills my whole spirit

soul is affectless.

No point to empty

soul existing;

it may as well vanish

to be is baseless.

"Keep walking," they say,

"the desert ends."

It won't last forever, 

it is not breadthless.

The wilderness is

a crucial place.

We need to go, to crawl

though it comfortless.

The soul needs struggle

to ever grow

into what it should be:

in connectedness.

****Inspired by a conversation I overheard with a rabbi.

Non-Person

I am now a pale ghost

according to the Party.

I've been blocked by Democrats

on Facebook by the hosts.

I offered a critique

of how I was treated

A constructive appraisal -

You'd think I'd havoc wreaked.

They allow G.O.P

who are boisterous and rude,

but I'm a Party member,

kept under lock and key.

They won't answer appeals

questioning their stand;

They're acing like I am dead;

The protest is concealed.

This isn't new to me:

 My invisibility.

I've always been hard to see

to the powers that be.

What they want is some peace

to assist the elections.

What they get is more turmoil

Because I'll speak my piece.

©2012 Cherie R. Boeneman

Maybe

Maybe I was foolish:

me thinking I could fight

one as powerful as he.

Maybe I was foolish:

me thinking I could sway;

maybe halfway we could meet.

Maybe I was foolish

 me thinking that he cares

about the folk in the street.

It was very foolish

to think all of those things

he is just way too elite.

It was very foolish

He is a Congressman

and he's in the driver's seat.

It was very foolish

He uses us as means

to more power and deceit. 

Stuck

I am stuck on one subject
and have been for a while.
I know that's obsession
I'm not very versatile.

It is part of who I am
to become fixated
on one topic or man.
I become fascinated.

It becomes sad, however
when I cannot break loose
then I become depressed
obsession becomes abuse.

I need to find some methods
to break fixation's spell
I need to find a mission
to distract me quite as well.

That's easier said than done
but it is worth the try
to break this crush I have
'cause it only makes me cry.

Stand Up and Fight

The Democrats, I guessed
were more human than the G.O.P.
That was my first mistake.
People who differ are still oppressed.

When you dare raise your voice
you are shut down rudely and censored.
You are blocked from websites
and though a member given no choice.

What they do is brutal:
Ostracize and shun and ridicule.
They 'll intimidate you
any way they can, fighting futile.

Or so they will assume.
The truth is different than that, my friend.
You CAN resist and fight back, 
quite effectively, not in back rooms.

So learn to organize
and use their own tactics against them.
Be ready for their push back 
but that means you have gotten a rise.

You're making progress then:
if they spend time and money on you,
it is a good bet you are.
So you  keep at it, time and again.

Make big noise publicly
and people will begin to notice.
That is the last thing they want.
Become savvy politically

I Dare To Dream

I dare to dream...
of a country where I am included,
where Aspies are not secluded;
where people who are different
are still in the current
and can achieve to their potential.

I dare to dream...
of a country where I can speak
of problems without your shriek,
where comments are received
not by the peeved;
not as tangential but essential. 

I dare to dream...
of a country where my ability is prized,
not to be ignored and despised;
where I have dignity and worth
instead of stigmatized as worse;
where I'm seen as consequential

Sharks (Haiku)

Shark swims purposely
It can smell blood miles away
like politicians.

Democrats?

They violate their own standards,

Hypocrites every one.

They say they are for freedom

but censor critics: cowards.

Democrats, they proclaim themselves 

but stifle most dissent.

When loyal members berate them

their democracy dissolves.

It isn't pretty and not nice

what they do to members

who say what they're really thinking;

blocked and censored from advice.

It isn't bad to criticize

it is more loyal than

those who never speak up when wronged.

Why's critique politicized?

 

Brain Strain

Whirling thoughts,
scrambling around; 
brain is overwrought
peace is sought.

Brain distraught
peace won't be found
nerves are really taut
tension fraught.

To A Giant

We used to think it was made of green cheese,
that there was a man in the moon.
But it wasn't until you walked there
that we had any idea how rocks were strewn.

You took one small step and a giant leap
a step that led to our history,
a leap that led to our future's path.
took us on the journey of cosmic mystery.

* RIP Neil Armstrong

Romney Limerick

There once was a man named Mitt
We all thought he was such the twit.
He flipped and he flopped
on things quite a lot.
On the whole he appeared quite unfit.

The Mittster

Rmoney is his nickname
and for good reason
his least favorite time
of year is tax season.

But we wouldn't really know
since we're still waiting
to see his tax returns
while he's hesitating.

What's he hiding in those forms?
How bad can it be;
Must be better to hide
than it is to release.

I Won't Run

"Cut your losses",
says someone I know.
"Find someone who
appreciates you."

That's good advice.
There's just one problem:
The thugs remain
to drive me insane.

I will not be
intimidated
into stillness
about illness,

the stigmatized
ignored and abused.
They need to change
how they short change

disabled people
in the campaigns and
the Party too;
let us break through.

They need to learn
a little critique
is not so bad,
no need to get mad.

Strong people grow
from criticism,
not run from it
or throw a fit.

All we want is:
not be shoved around,
be included,
not secluded.

Humiliation

It'd been a long time coming
but the burning was new
Support had always been there
but the lust had confused;

Were new feelings for someone
I had always admired
But he's so much older now
close to being retired.

His beloved wife had passed 
I was volunteering;
I was around him much more,
in parades appearing.

So I felt the attraction.
I wrote some poems of love
expressing admiration,
feelings I had to prove.

So as poems appeared online
I found he had remarried
and thus I was mortified;
wanted my head buried.

Humiliation was first
and then came feelings of shame.
I became overwhelmed
and ran out without aim.

I was badly embarrassed,
I wanted so much to die.
I just couldn't face him
or look him in the eye.

Dying of embarrassment
is possible, I see that's so;
because I wanted to
and still might die from woe.

Broken Spirit

Can you die of a broken spirit?
I know about broken hearts 
but not about the soul
when it splits into little parts?

I can't find all the tiny pieces
splintered like a broken glass
so I can't pick them up
or put them together, alas.

I am not sure I even want to,
I'd just rather fade away,
let my soul take its leave
of the body, now, no delay.

Non-living might be a simpler way
Trying gets me no where fast
Better to be silent 
I am nothing but an outcast.


I would like to let it just happen
with me totally inert
Not really suicide,
letting non-life now reassert.

Opossum

Grey prehistoric
looking creature can play dead
like many in our Congress.

Tin Man

Man of metal chopping down trees,
man of flesh applying the squeeze
the difference just seems minute
except the second is a brute.

They both are in need of a heart.
But that's when they are set apart
For the tin man really has it.
The second man is too unfit.

"Who is more human," we ponder
the metal man with some wonder
or one of flesh and blood and bone,
the one whose heart seems made of stone?

Quick US History

Colonialism

Corporatism

Tyranny

Revolution

Freedom

Constitution

Republic

Corporatism

Tyranny

Revolution?

Summer vs. Fall

Summer sliding silently
and swiftly into Fall.

Fall's fingers flick the switch
and start turning the leaves.

Summer seems so reluctant
to surrender control.

Fall is eager to ascend
Cooler nights, rain returns.

Summer still interrupts Fall
with occasional hot days.

Fall outs eventually
Summer has now succumbed. 

Stop!

Where can I go, where can I be
without you following me?
Everywhere I go there you are.
Now it's beyond bizarre.

You're creeping me out, I must say;
don't want to go out today.
I never know what to expect
so all around me I check.

I've never hurt you, why hurt me?
Why harass to this degree?
A guy in stocking mask, really?
That fellow gave me the willies.

I can't believe you're doing this.
I think something's gone amiss.
I simply can't figure it out
Stop, or I'll go crazy, no doubt.

Summer Closing (Haiku)

Summer is closing,

leaves are tinting so slightly,

slightly cooler nights

Intimidation

He pulled up and parked behind me
in a cream colored Toyota.
He was a white, male, had
reddish blonde hair and fairly thin.

He drew my attention when he
pulled a stocking mask up over
his head. I was scared, mad.
I left quickly with much chagrin.

I think he was aiming for me.
For what, I am really not sure.
I have an impression
it had to do with where I was.

Parallel parked on a slow street
at that time of day insecure;
perfect for aggression.
there were just not that many cars.

I was close to where my crush stayed;
A congressman I supported
for a very long time.
He was upset by attention.

I think he was assigned to prey
on my fears of rape reported
a way back, distant crime.
He certainly built the tension.

The congressman's aides cared little
that I was in quite deep distress,
just desired me gone
regardless of what it might take.

I'd already been belittled
So now I was being oppressed;
used me as a pawn
when the election was at stake.


©2012 Cherie R. Boeneman

Faith and Depression

It has always seemed like such a contradiction: how could someone who firmly believes in Jesus as the Christ also be depressed and suicidal? They do not go together in the normal schema of faith.If you believe in the saving grace of Jesus then there ought to be no room for despair, hopelessness, depression and suicidal thoughts, right? Nope. It turns out that the same person who believes the former also suffers with the rest. It may seem like a contradiction but the reality is that they co-exist.

The problem lies with the failure to understand depression as the organic illness it really is. Many Christians see depression as a spiritual failure, somehow the fault  of the depressed person for not having enough faith. The truth is, depression is an organic, definable illness in the same way heart disease is. Not many of us would classify heart attacks as a failure of faith. Neither should we define depression that way. Depression is caused by real imbalances in brain chemicals and complicated by life events.One may or may not question the role of faith in the life events but to call an imbalance of seratonin, dopamine and other chemicals in the brain a lack of faith is a serious failure to even try to understand the true nature of depression.

The Church, as a whole, needs to do a better job educating parishioners about mental illness in general and depression in particular. Though MILLIONS of us suffer from depression every year in this country only 3 in 100 sufferers seek help. That has to change. There should be no more shame in seeking help for depression than in going to the doctor for cancer. Indeed there should be no shame in being depressed at all. It is not  a matter of fault or blame. It JUST IS.

I have a Masters Degree in Theology and my home church was quite proud when I was ordained Deacon in the United Methodist Church. They were less thrilled when I left the ministry but they were still my home church. They managed to get their investment back by using my gifts and graces as much as they possibly could. At some points, I felt like an unpaid pastor. But then I suffered a breakdown and was hospitalized several times. I will NEVER forget that first Sunday back to church. Not ONE person either looked at me or talked to me! I never went back. These were the people who raised me in the faith. And yet, they could not deal with someone who had been suicidal and depressed. It was extremely painful but I understood the stigma that still attaches to mental illness and depression.

My message to the Church is this: What would Jesus do? First of all, he would heal me. But he would NEVER judge me or anyone else suffering from depression. Blame the disease not the patient. Jesus loves us all unconditionally. We ALL have our weaknesses and we are ALL sinners. But mental illness, in and of itself, is not a sin. It is a disease. It is no more sinful than having cancer. If and when the Church and broader society GETS that fact, the stigma may begin to disappear and the mentally ill may be included in society in a fuller and broader way. I hope and pray not too many more of us are ostracized before that happens.

Isaac

A hurricane heads for Tampa,
and that's just the G.O.P.
Isaac is another story
He may get the glory.

The problem is that the focus
is all on the convention
when Haiti should be center
of all presenters.

Those poor people have been through it
First an earthquake devastates,
then disease sets in to stay.
please send help their way!

The bags of hot air in Tampa
can, no doubt, fend for themselves.
They will generate bluster,
all they can muster.

It might even be enough to
turn a hurricane aside
forget about the wealthy
help the unhealthy.

How sad

How sad is it that my beliefs have died?

At least the beliefs about my country.

I used to think we were a good folk

but now all I see is stubborn pride.

How sad is it that politics are evil?

that there is a great divide among us

I used to think  we had common sense

but now all seem to be uncivil. 

How sad is it that politicians buy

their way into elected positions?

I used to think there was honesty

but now all seems to have gone awry.

How sad is it that all law makers

don't care about the People in the least?

I used to think I could believe one

but now ALL seem to be major fakers.

How sad is it that my heart seems fractured?

I wanted to still believe in my nation

I used to believe in the government

but now all of it seems  manufactured. 

How sad is it that they all seem acquired

for a price by major corporations?

I used to believe the People mattered 

but now all I see makes me sick and tired.

The Patriot Act Sucks

Is it paranoia if they really are after you?
Being followed, monitored computer use?
All because I idolized my congressman
and then dared to criticize his henchmen?

It is very dangerous to idolize anyone
Because they're only human in the long run.
It's even worse when he's a politician,
when he's full of ego and ambition.

You can double that when his brother is a senator;
powerful men and top collaborators,
they can pretty much do what they want to you
without facing any legal review.

I know this really sounds kind of crazy and it just might be
except it's happening right now and to  me.
Never, ever anger your congressman 
or his staff who are even more driven.

What's The Difference?

I have some challenges, I admit.
I have depression, anxiety,
Asperger's Syndrome and PTSD.
That's a lot I definitely submit.

Many Aspies are somewhat akin,
suffering some of the same things.
Co-morbidity is what it is called;
happens because we took it on the chin.


Our brains are wired kind of differently,
so we think in somewhat distinctive ways.
The world is somewhat unkind to us
when we study our subjects intently.

Depression is where most problems come
for me, feeling like I don't belong.
Worthlessness and hopelessness both afflict
me and I very often will succumb.

Anxiety hurts me a lot as well;
It keeps me from going out very much.
Social functions are quite difficult;
fear of being judged makes them seem like hell.

All in all, my challenges are these:
How to fit in a world that cannot know
what it's like to have a brain that works 
like it's from a distant world of green cheese.

And how to cope with my own feelings 
resulting from social pressures on me
and misunderstandings that arise
after these  interpersonal dealings.

Do not judge me too quickly or  harshly
until you have walked a mile in these shoes.
I do not understand you either. 
We can know one another partially.