CEE’S FUN FOTO CHALLENGE: GRAFFITI & MURALS ~~ Brooklyn, New York
Day: October 19, 2015
After You’ve Done All You Can Just Stand
Stand By Donnie McClurkin
Put in a call to AHRC New York City, got on their wait list and they will be mailing me out a list of Guardianship Lawyers. The woman answering my call said the wait is usually one to two years. Now that I think that through by the time I actually get a lawyer I’ll be retired!! Somehow this is a cosmic joke and Stephen and I are the punch lines. Ugh!!
In order to remain calm and somewhat stable I’ve been doing lots of praying. I’ve always been a woman of prayer but these last few months in fact since the end of 2014 I’ve been under extreme stress. Finally I’ve begun to fall back on my Baptist upbringing and put all my cares, fears, faults and failures in Jesus hands. Basically As far as my brother Stephen and I are concerned everything is in God’s hands now. I have exhausted all my options and sometimes it seems it’s never enough. I’m never enough. Not good enough. Not smart enough. Lots of shame and guilt. Many times tired and burnt out but still struggling because Stephen is relying on me.
So Lord Jesus I commit my troubled life to you. Let God’s Will be done in our lives. For only God sees the tears I cry at night, is with me through sleepless nights and by my side while I fake smile during the day at work all the while broken inside.
People who are atheists and/or non-believers probably laugh and joke about people like me. People of Faith but let me tell you something when you’ve back is against the wall, Mom and Dad are gone, no husband or boyfriend, friends and family have long left you behind that’s where your Faith comes in otherwise I’d go crazy. Truly Jesus is my only friend. The only one on whom I can rely. Jesus is there in the midnight hour when there is no one else who cares or will listen. One day I will find out why, my purpose and what this struggle all means but as for now I put my hand in his hand.
Ocean – Put Your Hand In The Hand (1971 – HQ) (Original Live Audio)
24 Hour Pizza and Parakeets
http://www.nycsubway.org/wiki/Abandoned_and_Disused_Stations
Whilst spelunking illegally in the subterranean caverns of abandoned subway stations my partner and I came upon an entire underground city. A dim, dark, dismal world of creeps and shadows yet illuminated by bursts of flying colors. Drawn into soaring searing winged rainbow brightness were heart shaped barbed wire around a complex populated by shades, shadows, ghosts and spirits. Not so much to keep them from getting out but to prevent flesh beings from getting in. Like Bot beings from Metropolis they went about their daily chores, duties and jobs seemingly oblivious to changes taking place around them.
Voices wavered and shook creating echo chambers of reverberating sounds. Frozen seaside faces mouths agape in silent screams. My nerves adrift on a sea of razors. My breath the color of repose. Coming towards me the cyclist who a few months ago lay in a crumpled heap his bike flung across the median, he a corpse cordoned off by yellow police tape while tourists take photos to upload on Facebook and Instagram. Once headed 100 miles an hour into a Vortex, now upright said cyclist strides as King in this darkened world. The Coroner declares………..He stripped off everything he had been. He died as he came into the world. All the layers of the identity removed he became himself again. Out of Potters Field and straight into Destiny.
Enraged the Minotaur went into combat mode launching heat seeking missiles, Molotov Cocktails and flaming boulders at our encampment. The explosions in his head became a fiery reality. Having survived an attack by the Minotaur they called it Resurrection Alley. An insurrection upon whispers of ectoplasm who had no knowledge of danger. Like Sisyphus condemned to have his liver torn out each day they continued their rituals indifferent to a storm of chaos knowing they were the eye of the storm a vacuum of apathy. Blood colored feces littered the floor as the legless man snaked his way across the corridors, then did a neat pirouette on his hands.
They found the Postman dead on the living room floor. LSD’d into a delicate condition.
Squeezed out cumulus clouds lefty dewy footprints over gravel, dirt and rubble. The Necropolis is a living Cyclone of Scimitars ready to strike.
Go to Sleep………
Go to Sleep……….
Go to Sleep…………
I felt myself gurgling choking on blood and vomit I coughed up the bullet then I let go. Red robin took the shiny casings to feather her nest.
For I too am a denizen of this debris strewn wasteland.
Espiritu en Fuego/A Fiery Spirit 