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

“Comfortable Chains” #abuse #selfawareness

It is difficult to free fools from the chains they revere“- Voltaire

Who among us doesn’t at least for a moment think the fool Voltaire speaks of, is someone other than ourselves?

We all have chains don’t we?

Chains come in many forms, pride, hatred, greed, spite, envy, These seem obvious as they exude evil.

But what are the “revered” chains Voltaire spoke of?

May I propose they are the shackles of codependency, and physical and/or emotional abuse? Why don’t victims break free of these bindings?

Unfortunately, victims can be so beaten down that sadly this abuse provides a warped sense of security. Knowing that they (the chains) are if nothing else, always there.

Be safe and take care of yourself first so, you can care for others.

Peace.

Standing Alone, A poem By Raymond Roy. #Poetry

Image: Raymond Roy

Standing alone, I wonder why. No one is there to hear when I laugh, breathe, or sigh.

What have I done? Have I been cast aside? Is this my Ego’s fault, heavy laden with ugly pride?

I have a choice of self pity or self-reflect. A challenge to my psyche, knowing not what to expect.

Self Pity is an easy-out, casting blame with expectations never realized. On those that would dare disagree with me, whilst I judged and unfairly criticized.

Self-reflection leads to most precious of gifts, wisdom, balance, and peace of mind. Received through humility, love, and the courage of being kind.

Peace.

The image above was taken not far from my home on the day of our first frost. Seeing this tree reminded me of times in my life I have had to deal with being alone. I hope you enjoyed the poem. Peace.

Frozen in Time by Raymond Roy

Why are you looking at me like that?

Did I do something wrong?

My senses suddenly become sharper,, ears feel hot, “tick…tock”..I hear a clock ticking nearby

Tick tock, tick tock

Survival mode, pupils dilate

Tick Tock…

Why is the door locked?

Tick tock…

I feel I should run but my feet weigh heavy like cinderblocks

Tick tock..

Under my loose fitting shirt, I feel a bead of nervous sweat run down my rib cage

Tick…..tock….tick ……..tock….everything is in slow motion,

I am terrified, Why can’t I scream?

Tick…..tock You manipulate me like clay..

Tick tock…Tick tock… tick tock… tick tock

If I say anything, I am a bleeding heart victim and an attention whore.

When you are a victim of abuse, you don’t always understand what is happening which IS one of the reasons many victims fall prey.Innocence. Especially children. You become frozen and confused.

Once you realize the brevity of what happened, guilt and shame set it….you feel alone. This is a lie.. You are NOT alone

Peace

-Royboy

The Long Path By Raymond Roy #poetry

The sign means STOP, to all refugees, it has been years since we have seen any trees.

Rifle and young child upon my shoulder, radiant heat off a Turkish boulder.

Granite boulder on our neighbors land, we seek escape, from a tyrants hand.

Unwelcomed people, we accept a fate, choosing to live, versus war and hate.

The air is thin, the sun warms our backs, free of smoke, and air attacks.

We are here, our will is strong no matter the path, how steep or how long.

I look upon my mothers face, we move forward at the elders pace.

Word Count-100

Written for Friday Fictoneers Hosted by our wonderful host Rochelle Wisoff. Thanks Rochelle!

Photo prompt Credit Bjorn Rudberg thanks Bjorn!

To read more stories based on this photo click here

-Peace

-Goroyboy

“I Will Rise” by Raymond Roy #poetry #iwillrise

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, Bush, Reagan 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.

Word Count-99

-Peace

-Goroyboy

Written for Flash Fiction Challenge hosted by Charli. Based on the photo prompt, write in 99 words(no more, no less) Thanks Charli.

“You Must Like Butter” By Raymond Roy #writephoto #domesticabuse

You Must Like Butter” By Raymond Roy #writephoto

The bright yellow flowers were reminiscent of when as a child, we would hold a dandelion under each other’s chin. If your chin reflected yellow, it meant you liked butter.

The fringes on the brand new fat rubber tires created a whirring sound as the whipped against the bicycle frame. A campfire effect of the warm sun on my back with a cool headwind brought a clammy sweat to the hair on the back of my neck.

Turning off the road onto a cleared soil path carved in the canola field, the ground was like a grainy dampened beach. The soil almost pebble-like yet firm enough to keep me moving forward. The canola plants were in full bloom.

The musky sweet scent sang a sirens song to the nectar drunken, pollen-laden sleepy bees as they made their way to work.

I found it difficult to keep my mouth full closed as my upper lip continued to swell. The iron rich salty blood crusted on my lower lip, the crimson vital fluid I had swallowed, sat in my stomach like a dagger.

At the base of the ridge I coasted under the bridge to the coal shadowed stream. As I ducked under the bridge. A small cloud formed from my warm breath as it floated out from the shade into the sunlight.

Pulling my hoodie sleeves up, I plunged my swollen hands into the icy stream. Cupping water up to my puffy lip, it was difficult to drink as if I just came back from the dentist. I took off my hoodie. Washing my face and the back of my neck felt good, I felt alert.

A few river rocks rolled down toward me. I sat down, on the moss laden bank, knowing they had come for me. “Melissa Taylor!! “ a voice yelled from atop the bridge. “Melissa Taylor!!, We have a warrant for your arrest!”

“What took ya so long?” , I yelled back. As I sat in the back of the squad car I remembered they left my new bike back there. They one he forbade me to buy(with my own money), hopefully a needy child will find it and make good use of it.

“Why did you kill him Melissa?”

“Just keeping a promise.”drool stringing down as I struggled to be articulate, “I promised he would die the next time he laid a hand on me.”

The full sun had come out, I could see my reflection looking from the backseat into the side mirror of the car. My whole face had a yellow glow from the golden fields.

I guess that means I like really like butter.

Peace

Goroyboy

Domestic Violence.

If you are a victim or know a victim of domestic violence, you are not alone. You are not what someone else says you are. You are who YOU say you are. Domestic Violence Help Line

Written for Sue Vincent’s # writephoto photo prompt. Thanks Sue for hosting.

“The Grappler” By Raymond Roy #poem

The Grappler By Raymond Roy

Wrestling practice in a bus garage, where the only heat was from your breath and sweat.

To our adversaries, they ain’t seen nothing yet……….

Represented was every weight. Corn-fed Unlimited,

slender 101,

and in the middle, 168……

Up at 530 to run the bleachers,

Our Coach was Ross

aka one of the Algebra teachers……

No Friday night lights, no roaring crowds, no booming bands.

Immediate family were our biggest fans…….

Not to forget our Guardian Angels so secret in disguise,

They loyally dressed up our lockers, and brought plenty a surprise……

Back of the bus, spit in a cup.

Gotta make the weight, or you would wrestle up…….

First round of three you shook the hands of an opponent of equal weight,

Whistle blows, butterflies gone, training will tell your fate……..

Take down for two, escape for one

A pin and points, will matter none……

Quarter Nelson, cross face, or a fireman’s carry,

countering the cradle never reach back and be wary………

Your challenger’s breathing is all that you can hear,

and instructions from the ref, through your head adorned gear…….

The small frys are quick, juvenile looking at their best.

The middle weights, are intense, confidently pounding fist on chest……

Like charging bull or loco train, the heavyweights would grapple on the mat.

Raw power in slow motion, like a slothy acrobat……..

While defeat brought deep heartache and victory yielded bliss

Pinning meant a gold pin, and a mat maids innocent kiss.

-Goroyboy

By no means was I superstar wrestler. Record was 50-50 at best. One of my most cherished items is a peer based inspirational trophy I received my Junior year. It sits on my desk in front of me, as a daily reminder of my roots and my first experience of being part of something greater than myself.

This poem is dedicated to all wrestlers but especially to my coaches, teammates and those that supported us back at Lynden High School. Go Lions!

LHS Class of ’81

“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

“Gratitude” by Raymond Roy

Gratitude                                  For all that brings joy and for the challenges that shape me.

Gratitude connects me to the best life has to offer..

To my family, friend and foe alike, I wish you peace this day. Amen

-Goroyboy

“Capture the day” Photo by Raymond Roy