forgiveness – goroyboy's Blog

“Thaw”

“I don’t want to talk about it, but the quiet might be worse”-Sabrina Song “Thaw” Official video

Powerful lyrics, so reflective of the times we live in. A long emotional winter.

Personally over the past year, an increasing number of my relationships, typically after “Speaking my truth” have grown cold and I have literally run out words to say. Left only with the heavy dense fog of silence residing in what seems to be ever widening gaps.

I recently heard that in Vietnam, there is a saying, “before you speak your mind, wait for seven heartbeats” (perhaps a lesson to speak from the heart rather than the mind). I suspect the isolating truths I spoke were not from my heart but rather from my mind(ego). As Tolle puts it so well in “The Power of Now”, Egos win when they convince us to focus on the mistakes of our past and the worries of the future. Living in the present moment is the ego’s nemesis.

In the present moment, neither the past nor the future exist……

By design we all need to feel loved, be treated with kindness, and dignity. We need the warmth of an emotional Spring. I am ready to “thaw” by striving to live in the warmth of the present moment and stand ready to count to seven in order to speak from my heart, and not my mind. I hope you’ll join me.

-Goroyboy

Residential Farm by Raymond Roy #sundayphotofiction

“Residential” Farm By Raymond Roy

As the priest drove away, painted smiles on my new guardians, transformed into distorted scowls akin to grotesque masks in a Twilight zone episode.

The Mister, seethed,“Well Mrs., looks like we have that summer labor we’ve been prayin fer.” Mister was a scrawny crotchety person. Shoulders bare, void faded blue straps of baggy overalls.

The Mrs., although equal in height to Mister, was at least three times his girth.Belching loudly,she walked, protruding rib fat caused her arms to orbit around her body, similar to Randy from “A Christmas Story”never actually being able put them down.

The Mister, spewed an ebony stream of tobacco-laden spit, landing squarely on a saw legged grasshopper, What’s your name“Injun,? It wasn’t the word Injun, but how it was said. The tone inferred dominance. A wave of Familiar Rage sets in.

Grasshopper recovered, burst forth, ricocheting off a scrap sheet of tin roofing. The ping carried. Grinning internally, I too would have my escape, after dark.

“My given name, Binesi. It means…”

“Enough chatter Injun!”

(…”Thunderbird” I thought to myself)

“Get to work! Start by hauling that wheelbarrow to the compost pile. Earn your keep? You can sleep in the loft with the chickens.”

Word Count-200

Update:When I wrote this back in 2018, I had no idea what was to come. Mass grave of 215 residential school children We learn from history, lest we repeat it.

Written for Sunday Photo Fiction a 200 word limit fictional story based on the provided photo prompt. Thanks Dawn Miller for this weeks photo.

Fictional yes but many beyond the boundaries of Canada are not aware of North America’s Residential school system which was a a cultural genocide of our continent’s indigenous people. A great novel which I enjoyed was When the Legends Die addresses the destruction of a little Indian Boys heritage while bonding with an unlikely father figure.

Peace to you all.

-Goroyboy

“Newspaper” Relationships

As I understand, Hemingway said that writing for a newspaper meant you needed to forget everything you learned from the previous day on the job and wipe the slate clean because there is a new story to be had for the next days headline.

In contrast, Hemingway said writing a story or a novel was to celebrate and apply what you know and learned in life..

I think relationships are the same way. Some are like newspapers and some are like a well written story or novel.

“Newspaper” relationships are all about the headline of the day. Slights, hurts or even joys for that matter experienced from the previous days story, mean little. Newspaper relationships are the days big headline with not allot of substance. At times you may wonder why you keep the subscription. If a newspaper relationship is to work, you must accept it for what it is and not rain on it with expectations lest it stop showing up on your front porch.

“Novel” relationships are like a favorite book that speaks to you. It is based on trust, commitment and mutual respect in which you allow yourself to be vulnerable, open to the story’s point of view and potentially grow as a person.

Peace-Goroyboy

“I will rise (2020)”, a poem by Raymond Roy

I will rise….

Distant sunrise, cool morning breeze,

above the clouds, I rise with ease.

Like Ironman flying, I rise above,

Seeing those that have passed, my heart fills with love.

Gone is the weight of daily drama,

Which one is better, Trump, Biden or Obama?

I will rise,here souls have no gender, doctrine , origin, or race,

no conflict, hatred, color of face.

Time as we know it, does not exist, social media likes, or media twists.

I will rise, becoming stardust, from whence I came, free of life’s burdens, only love, no shame.

I will rise….

Revamped from an earlier version which I felt was timely. The peaceful pictures generously shared by friends reminded me that we will return to the stardust from whence we came.

Stay Well. https://dversepoets.com/

-Goroyboy

The Elder

The Elder

Sitting quietly grinning, taking a well earned rest

The Elder watches the little ones, putting their youth to the test.

Not so long ago, she wore buckskin and tended pastoral sheep,

Cared for her babies, singing them softly off to sleep,

Off to war in a far off land protecting freedom, she never dreamed that she would find,

A barrel chested Austrian, handsome, brave, and kind.

They raised their kids Viktor, Linda and Cherry,

around the world and in Sydney BC where they often took the ferry.

Laughing was a common sound whenever her family was nearby,

Our Elder leaves a legacy and her passing brings a sigh.

Thank you Aunt Nellie, for your devotion, patience, love and carrying forward an example of a life well lived. Amen.

I was around 11 or so when I went to stay 2 weeks with Aunt Nellie, Uncle Vik and Cherry on Vancouver Island. The bellowing laugh of Uncle Vik, the kind sweet spirit of Aunt Nellie and Cherry’s welcoming smile, is forever embossed in my heart. ❤️

Harmony (Dealing with Conflict)

I cannot speak for others but, I admit it, I want to be liked, and accepted.

I can feel anxious thinking of unresolved personal conflict with others when the relationship emotional bank account with that person is overdrawn, depleted.

What about reconciliation?

That takes commitment from both parties.

Admittedly, I have fooled myself into thinking otherwise, sometimes you CANNOT reconcile.

Unfortunately our polarized society would suggest a short sighted mindset that someone always has to lose.

What is left?

Breathe deeply and slow down for a moment…..

What is the alternative?

Harmony…. If there is power in kindness, harmony is the fuel that feeds it.

In my humble opinion, Living in harmony is quite simple:

Step 1. Recognize the others humanity

Step 2. Commit to living a harmonious life with or without them.

Step 3. Accept the possibility that you may never reconcile with that person.

Step 4. Accept the fact that others(even those you despise) have the same right to the pursuit of happiness as you.

Peace

Straw-man by Raymond Roy #FFfaw #fiction

He is a Liar!! A liar, a fornicator and I can’t stand it any longer! Mitzie had conviction in her voice as she addressed the Church board. Squeezing out a few tears completed the effect. The accused, Pastor Rigby, stunned, waiting for the church board to react. Rigby had perhaps squeezed a little out of his Church personal expenses, but what in the hell was she talking about?

Earlier that day, as the Church-administrator, Mitzie was denied vacation time by Rigby. By God he was going to pay. It started with texts to the church district office. Next lunch with the assistant pastor.

“Look Jeffery, you want that top spot don’t you? ” Jeffrey was puzzled until he saw the devious look in Mitzie’s eye. Give us a kiss Jeff, and leave the rest to me.

There was no wrong doing by Rigby but like any good strawman fallacy, her lies lit the straw-man on fire, Rigby couldn’t put it out.

Margarita glasses, “clink”in Cabo. Cheers Señor! Or should I say Senior Pastor Jeff!

Word Count-175

As a former Church Board member, Nothing could be truer than the idea of “truth being stranger than fiction”. Just as the Strawman mentioned in this story, the repeating of rumors,(even in denial of the rumors) only cultivate them toward being believed.

Written for Flash fiction for Aspiring Writers thanks to our gracious host Priceless Joy and thanks to Ellespeth for the photo prompt. To read other stories based on the photo prompt click here

Peace.

Come As You Are by Raymond Roy #poetry

Come As You Are by Raymond Roy

Unlocking the gate.

It swings open. Listening over my shoulder. Listening for someone. Anyone. To stop me from locking the gate behind me.

Is that you Jesus?

Maybe I should leave it unlocked, just in case. Not so fast..A wiseman once told me, ”Expectation destroys gratitude.” He also said, “Anger is poison you drink, and expect your enemy to die.”

“Come as you are”

What first does that even mean?

Like many other catch phrases, over used. Just something people say. Like, “love ya, love ya guys..

It’s just something people say..

Come as you are…

So you can be judged whether you belong?

Come as you are,

IF..

You speak the same language
You are of the same race
Have the same sexual preference
Never question our truth even if you know them to be lies.
When push comes to shove don’t make waves.
Accept that if you to leave you will now be the enemy.

“Come as you are, as you were

As I want you to be

As a friend, as a friend

As an known enemy”-Nirvana

Written for Sunday Photo Fiction thank you to our host.

Photo prompt “No trespassing” Copyright Sascha Darlington

A little darker poetry than usual, as my Old Man (Dad, Gerald) would say, “kinda heavy”. This is my first non lyrical poem. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for reading.

Peace.

Goroyboy.

Residential Farm by Raymond Roy #sundayphotofiction

“Residential” Farm By Raymond Roy

As the priest drove away, painted smiles on my new guardians, transformed into distorted scowls akin to grotesque masks in a Twilight zone episode.

The Mister, seethed,“Well Mrs., looks like we have that summer labor we’ve been prayin fer.” Mister was a scrawny crotchety person. Shoulders bare, void faded blue straps of baggy overalls.

Grasshopper recovered, burst forth, ricocheting off a scrap sheet of tin roofing. The ping carried. Grinning internally, I too would have my escape, after dark.

“My given name, Binesi. It means…”

“Enough chatter Injun!”

(…”Thunderbird” I thought to myself)

“Get to work! Start by hauling that wheelbarrow to the compost pile. Earn your keep? You can sleep in the loft with the chickens.”

Word Count-200

Written for Sunday Photo Fiction a 200 word limit fictional story based on the provided photo prompt. Thanks Dawn Miller for this weeks photo.

Peace to you all.

-Goroyboy

“The Ego” by Raymond Roy

I cannot hold you in my hand, and the foundation of your lies are built on sand.

If I extend an open hand, a clenched fist is likely what you’ve planned.

If I give you residence in my mind ,you would have me be unkind

If I bring you to where love exists, you reassure me I should resist.

If I show you where you are mistaken, any semblance of truth is then forsaken.

Ego, I am self aware, that you destroy, my wanting to care.

To not care for others serving only my selfish needs, inside I’m waiting for the power of Love, to intercede.

To destroy you Ego is a daily decision , your Children named anger, envy and spite, fog my vision.

My vision for a state of mind, occupied by Love’s Children, whose thoughts are to listen, understand, and be kind.

Peace. -Goroyboy