poetry

TICK TOCK #2

TICK-TOCK

Quick check for dirty spots

TICK-TOCK

Another quick mop

TICK-TOCK

Must make sure the toothbrushes are in their assigned spots

TICK-TOCK

he’s on the dot

TICK TICK K-A-B-O-O-M

I… forgot to clean the clock

*******

When you meet her you would never know from her beaming face that she has been through hell and is still clawing her way out of it.

She can neither read or write and but is fortunate to have a job as a labourer. With this job as well as selling betelnut after work she manages to make ends meet and support her children.

She has an ex who won’t let go and prefers to sweet talk her into coming back with anything he can get his hands on. Its been years of constant physical, mental and verbal abuse.

She has taken out restraining orders but her ex does not adhere to them.

Recently he jabbed her in the thigh with a knife it would had been deeper had she not been standing behind a door forcing it to close while he swung wildly at her

I don’t know how to help her. Relocating her I think is not an option because she can not read or write and finding a job would be extremely difficult and I do not have the means to support her. We do not have welfare benefits in PNG so it seems like a dead end.

She had him arrested but is under immense pressure from his wantoks (relatives) to drop the charges and do away with the restraining orders.

I am moving to town in several days and I am very worried about her.

She lives in fear.

I feel like crap but don’t how else to help her.

Sometimes I think it would be better if I did not care. If I looked the other way. But I can’t so how the frig do I get rid of the guilt? The feeling of being useless and what do I do?

Sometimes life is so #$%&*.

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Daddy’s baby & Baby’s daddy

See something

 

 

 

 

Daddy’s baby & Baby’s daddy

She stays at home,

eating,

to ease the pain,

three babies,

and no way to explain.

 

Her father had,

a bright idea one day.

He needed to show his eldest,

the marital way.

 

So he told his wife,

pounding fists,

to further state his case.

 

So now,

She is hidden,

away,

from

her high school friends

who used to come by

day after day,

 

from the boyfriend

who came to ask,

if she went away?

 

from the relatives

who pop up

every other day.

 

The neighbors whisper,

the tale

of the daughter

who never

went

away.

 

They shrug their shoulders

and look,

the

other way

after all

it’s

not

their

business anyway.

*************

 

YOU SPEAK ME

You know what I want to say
but can’t
You get why sometimes
a little is too much
or that sometimes a lot is not enough
You speak silence
You get why it’s never too late
never too far to go
You know when it’s okay to be here
and when its not
You get that sometimes it’s a ME thing,
and you know when its an Us thing
You know its work
and you still show up
you still stick around
You speak me
Thank God for you!

…..

FROM THE HEARTS OF INNOCENTS #1

ENOUGH

We take the pain
Enough is enough

We cry in pain
Enough is enough

We live in fear
Enough is enough

So listen
Enough is enough

by Karlsem Wilmot 14 yrs old

************

It is easier to build strong children then to repair broken men – Frederick Douglas

My Words have flown away

Image

Forgive me my friends but my words seem to have left me.  Please bear with me. I will be posting some of my old poems I dug up.

*********************

I will remember you

I will remember you,

every day,

no photos or keepsakes,

But I will remember you make no mistake,

How can I forget,

When my heart has carved,

an image of your face,

When my nose picks up your scent,

everywhere everyday,

When my heart reaches for you,

and is left wanting,

when it feels emptiness in your place,

When my ears long for your whisper,

your chuckle,

your roar,

I will remember you,

everyday.

*********************

WALK ON

Walk on,

my feet,

quaver but keep on,

Hope,

be my walking stick,

Faith,

my footwear,

Walk on,

my feet,

Justice,

my guiding light,

trip but keep on,

Walk on,

Keep on,

Up or down,

Walk,

Walk on.

****

I sit here under my mosquito net typing this post while all around me, my family sleep.

I wish sleep would come. I wish my heart stopped aching. I wish for many things.

A month ago a young family member came for my help. She came with a story of an older family member sexually harassing her.

She is thirteen. He is in his late 30’s. They live in the same house despite most of my family insisting we solved it in-house I pushed for it to be reported to the police.

So we went down and reported the matter. She came down and went through the interviewing etc. They told us to move her so we did. They told us they would come and arrest him so we waited and waited.

We went down again only to find out the first complaint was never filed. We had to file another one.

During that time he threatened her with a knife and stalked her.

As time went we realised she needs a lot of help. Help, we are not able to give. We went to Social Welfare only to be told time and time again they were in meetings.

Every night he circled the home we moved her too. He brings her gifts; treats; and cash. He sees nothing wrong in what he is doing.

Three days ago it reached boiling point and we went back down to the police station. They told us TO DEAL WITH HIM OURSELVES and bring down to the police station ourselves because they had no fuel to come up and find him.

It seems that because no actual penetration happened it’s not a serious case even though he did attempt to force her to service him orally.

He is on the run now after another family member exploded and punched him when he said he was in ‘a relationship’ with the child.

So now he is out there..a Mary Jane addict who has threatened to kill this child and no real help for the child insight.

So where do we go? How do we help this child? HOW MANY CHILDREN REACHED OUT FOR HELP BUT NEVER GOT IT? So many questions…so I wrote this to keep on going…I must!!

aching

Maiya

WHY POETRY

Because

Poetry
whispers
soul’s torment
 
Poetry
the taste of
tears
 
Poetry
an orchestra of abc’s
playing the Symphony of Being
 
Poetry
the nectar of life’s
bittersweet
dealt out to those
hungering
for a tasting
 
Poetry
the roar of mice
against Kings
of concrete jungles
 
Poetry
a whiff of
scent of soul

*********

That’s why.  Inspired by Jen of Steponacrack.