Tag: family

They call it the beautiful bill 

Helene RichardsonLeave a comment

They call it the beautiful bill 

I call it bullshit

Approved on Capitol Hill

By cowards, liars a stroke of a pen

Politicians committing  grievous sins

planned and orchestrated this doom

The innocent to suffer quite soon

Republicans souls are corrupt 

Hidden agendas plan to disrupt

Creating a maze of discord 

Striving to become Lords

Over the people – I think not

Cowards in suits while children cry

Justice , truth, they distribute only lies

We grown weary but not to surrender – we detest

We don’t second guess your motives – we protest

The poor not deserving

 you laugh  over drinks

Thinking of more ways to stump out life

You created this broken bridge of strife

The foul smell of trickery permeates the air

And justice is to being torn apart – not fair

Yet it’s not over

We the people stand for democracy 

now that has been turned into hypocrisy 

Each new bill breeds only hate

NEWS FLASH

We reject it – we refuse to take

Your bullshit that rocks are minds

It’s not time – NOT TIME

Endless city blocks of tears

And ICE draws from fear

Death travels the corridors of schools at noon

Creeping though walls in broken rooms

Set off by fools with no remorse 

Pushing pain like drugs – it’s part of the course

We feel the pain like a knife in our chest

Democracy is burning- can’t lay it to rest

Every law is a lie they hurry to write

Families destroyed – stolen in the night

They push “we the people” out of the way

These new laws are meant to decay hope

In homes screams echo in the night

Dreams of freedom erased in the policy fight

Scheming agenda planning attacks

Against Americans these are the facts

We will thrive like beautiful flowers

We will rise upward dare not cower

No justice, no peace, we don’t pretend

This is our beginning and it’s not the end.

Photo by Photo By: Kaboompics.com on Pexels.com











	


				
	






	
	

		
Trump’s World
	


	
					

			 Helene RichardsonLeave a comment		

	
	


		

Listen up – don’t dare tell me to shut up or claim my words lack insight. Truth when spoken is worth more than gold. It’s light that shines showing us what’s wrong or right in this world.





There’s a devil in the midst, whispering lies, ignoring the cries of a nation in fear.  An evil host, desecrating our space. Leaving behind bitterness, sorrow, tears. Some of you gave him a toast, yes raised a glass to him, drank to his fraud and played his game of insanity.





SHAME ON YOU!  For playing along, for feeding his fire, then running from the flames. Some of you no more than cattle blind to the battle allowed him to tame you.





The constitution gives us hope. A joke to him wages a sin against humanity. A document to rewrite however he sees fit. You won’t win. The sacred words that built this country now under siege in real time, not myth but fact.





He slides into madness – vision askew. Breaking bonds with nations abroad. What does he see? Power and pride. What do you see? A tyrant. A fraud. The sacred flame that united us as one is burning fast. The question is how long must his madness last?





His eyes – shut to our nation’s needs. Take heed. Listen to his plan as he spins out of control holding this country hostage to his demands. Don’t silence truth. Don’t quiet dissent. Don’t let him cage the voice of hope. Life isn’t a joke to sweep under a rug by this man who is criminal and portrays a thug.





He wears a mask riddled with holes. Empty of a soul. His strength is from pain. Feeds on discord growing  in the dark. Sinful laughter that creeps from him as we shoulder the strain.





Watch closely…..the road he paves. We carry the weight. He plays the game.  Some stand idle, blind to his moves. Human pieces , pawns of shame. He calls this great but greatness it’s not.  Not when built on hatred and rooted in fear.





We contemplate peace yet we dread the next day. Shaky. Unclear our fears. 





Citizen, immigrant, documented or not. We all feel it. The pull. The twist. The sting. The hist of a snake.  What’s the angle, the plan as he strangles the American dream.





Don’t dare me to shut up- this truth is mine and must be told.





Roe Vs  Wade – a right reversed. A woman’s voice now silent.  Can love be love if judged by law? Who decides what’s right or wrong – whose passion is allowed to speak?





Mass deportation echoes loud. History repeats. In painful hues. From Project Wetback to braceros. Immigrants served and were used.  Then tossed away. Tools gone dull. Shipped though citizens true. Not forward – no. We move in reverse. And the pain it’s carried by me as by you too.





Families torn, mothers, fathers, children wave though bus window glass. Citizens by birth…….punished by blood. Compassion now a thing of the past.





We are many- many faces , many voices. Many names, documented, undocumented. Human beings not pawns in a game.





Doctors, laborers, teachers, and more. Artist, actors and yes even thieves. We are gay, straight, trans. Proud mothers, fathers. Each heart believes. Black, Brown, White, Yellow, red – every hue the eye can see. We climb. We strive. We sacrifice. Chasing the American Dream.





We came some by force and some by choice but we all want a piece of Liberty and not misery.





And still we hope and still we rise for we are one struggling to survive this calamity.





We are humanity with a voice of free will to make our own choice.






	


				
	






			

			
							
		

	
	

		
Navigating the Dark
	


	
					

			 Helene RichardsonLeave a comment		

	
	


		

I know when I’m approaching a dark tunnel and in most instances I know how to cover that tunnel and not get sucked into it.  Most of the times I have been able to plan my escape but nothing in my life stays the same, even when it may appear identical, it’s not.





Recently I feel like Alice must be kin to me – I’m falling, falling, falling into that dark tunnel and I’m never certain of my destination.  Depression has been a close foe for many years, doctors are fast to offer medication to eliminate depression but I have always been able to fight against the pressure.  





I detest things that hide in the dark and a pill would only be a temporary fix.  The tunnel would still exist.  So my personal quest has always been a struggle to cover up the tunnel – only eventually it always opens again. 






	


				
	






	
	

		
Motherhood
	


	
					

			 Helene RichardsonLeave a comment		

	
	


		

What is it to be a good mother? There isn’t a manual that provides you with the precise steps to be a successful mother. No, it’s trial and error and hoping along the way it doesn’t become a disaster. Over the years of being a mother there was always a lesson to be learned and sometimes even from my children. 





Unfortunately your first born sometimes serves as your test run, they are a part of your vital education for being a mother – so trial and errors begin. Mountains of errors before you walk on flat ground.  At times the oldest will even point out , “You never treated me like that?”





There isn’t anything simple when you teach a child yes and no because some children are very inquisitive and ask why? I think this is very exasperating at times when it’s always why instead of yes. Babies are relatively easy to handle since they do not challenge you, but a toddler can be overwhelming.  Incessant  chatter, demolition of the house and of course, they love to say no! It’s easy to comfort them when they fall, you kiss them and give them many hugs. You tell them you love them and they never question that love – quite different when they get older.





As they grow you begin to try to mold them into individuals that would grow up to be productive human beings, yet you want them to be unique. They are your shining stars and with every achievement your heart swells with pride, and you  think they aren’t ordinary but very special. You live vicariously through your children and think just maybe they will do everything you hoped for.





Along the road you travel with them, You teach them  to respect others; self worth, discipline, and solid values. You guide them to walk that straight narrow and hope they won’t stray or compromise their belief system – or really it’s your belief system. You teach them not to lie or steal and you teach them that each action rather good or bad always comes with consequences. You hope these values sink into the core of their existence. And if you’re spiritual you stay in a positive realm – that your children will be fine. If you are  religious your kids attend church and you hope they discover that having faith can sustain many disappointments that they may encounter in the future. 





When you have to discipline your children – you hide your tears until you can cry in the privacy of your room because no parent ever wants to cause any discomfort by scolding the love of their life –  you love your children  relentlessly  – they are the best of you. You choose your battles carefully because you carry such love for them. Sometimes you were too sharp with them, sometimes inpatient and even sometimes you were selfish and hoped they would occupy themselves whereas you would have time for yourself. Being a mother can become exhausting at times.  All the many times you didn’t really listen because mothers too,  become self absorbed in their own issues.   After all contrary to what your growing children think you are not invincible – you are a human too and each day you are evolving in different ways just as  they are.





The time comes when they are young adults and it tugs at your heart and you wonder where the years disappeared.  However for you they will always be your babies. You marvel with their new found independence, you applaud their success and you weep when they fall short but you always tell them they have the power to succeed at whatever their endeavors will be.  





Motherhood was a challenge and along the way you wrote your own manual of the do’s and don’ts of being a mother.   You made your share of mistakes and a few regrets that linger close. You carried them over the  mountains sometimes with tears, but the laughter that followed was always abundant. You are so proud of your children who are now young adults.   It was a pleasure to be their mother and you are forever indebted for the privilege of motherhood.. 

	


				
	






	
	

		
Death and Healing
	


	
					

			 Helene RichardsonLeave a comment		

	
	


		

I lost my husband six years; one month and sixteen days ago and finally I think it’s time to rebuild my life. I’m still not sure what that means but I know it’s not sitting in my room, crying, eating, cleaning the house until I am exhausted and chain smoking cigarettes. I finally came to the realization that you would not be happy with the person I had succumbed to. I actually contemplated that I would grieve forever that this should be my destiny.. I’m still not sure what that means but I do know now life is much more than grief.





I was frightened because I couldn’t picture you anymore.  The image that visited me was a nineteen year old young man, vibrant, handsome and fearless. I had to pick up a photograph to remember you as you had become,  the small details of your face.  The etches and grooves and sagging skin that came with age but also too many illnesses back to back that stole into your life like a thief without warning.  





I couldn’t remember your wonderful scent. I find myself constantly opening your cologne especially Jimmy Choo your favorite , and the aroma is a reminder of a time when you were near. I kept most of your clothing,  couldn’t part with those items so dear to my heart. Your favorite shirts and pants they still hang in your closet.  Sometimes late at night, really in the wee hours of morning. I get up and put on one of your sweaters. I needed all these things to cushion my loss.





People would tell me with time it would be okay, after all time healed everything but that was not so. Time doesn’t change how you feel when you love someone as I have loved you. You just don’t cry as often but the pain of loving and losing follows you, it’s like a fine thread that gets caught on your pants leg. and pulls you back . You go places that you two used to go together. You listen to laughter, watch couples holding hands or just walking together and you feel a stab in your heart. And you ask if only I had just a little more time? You know all the things you would do if you had more time. You think about the silly arguments, but also the times you both cried together, yes I miss it all.





I miss it so much.  I miss hearing you debate with someone and how you  refused to be on the losing end. I miss eating from your plate although I know you didn’t like it , but I did it anyway. Our late night walks at the deserted beach , how we took off our shoes and let the water nip at our feet. I even enjoyed watching you sleep knowing then peace came to you then in your dreams. I miss our shopping trips to the maul. I miss you washing my back because I always had a problem stretching my arm. I miss you making me fried eggs well done and hash browns when I worked late. I never liked eggs but when you made them – well its was like having a nice dinner. Your youngest daughter tried to fix me a fried egg and I think it may have come in at a seven but never a ten. I miss laying on your chest while you read. I miss you calling me Terri because no one has ever called me Terri but you. I miss dancing for you in my bare feet.in the rain, you said it was foolish but  how you bubbled over with laughter.  And the gladiolas three dozen every two weeks. I remember how I complained about why so many considering I had to clip them? No one gives me gladiolas now.





And it saddens my heart that has so many cracks that I don’t think they can be mended. You always thought of me. I knew you were sick and knew how you said you were so very tired not being able to do the things you used to. What did I say to you – find something else to do. I think you knew that time was of essence. And you crammed as much as you could into our lives; taking me places, buying me  gifts and telling me how beautiful I still was. All those things you said and did for me. 





And the day before your funeral it was Valentines day. A delivery of flowers, three dozen yellow roses. I thought to myself roses are not appropriate however when I read the card it was from you. You said I know you love gladiolas but I think these will do. Thank you for all you have done for me. I am your greatest fan. I broke down in tears and I thought, no I was your greatest fan. Even when you were nearing your star in the sky, you thought of me.





So now I will rebuild my life without you.. I will try to make sense of what the impending future holds for me. I will do some of the things I always thought of doing but never did. I will listen to that small voice in my head – that is actually telling me to write- you can make your dream become a reality – that is your voice.





I will begin the tedious process of finding an audience for my stories; plays, screenplays – everything that was completed years ago but was never really circulated – my fear of rejection hindered my growth. Now I will do these things without fear of failure but instead only the possibility of becoming who I was always meant to be. 





Six years, one month and sixteen days. No more grieving because I choose to live for both of us. I know you will be there cheering me on because you were and always will be my biggest fan.





































































































	


				
	






	
	

		
Marriage
	


	
					

			 Helene RichardsonLeave a comment		

	
	


		

Watch how the flowers bloom. From a tiny seed they sprout and thrive from the nutrients in the soil, sun and water. As time passes they grow into beautiful, colorful flowers that dance in the sunlight. 





Flowers that are not attended to die and wither away, with their beauty disappearing into the soil as it is with a marriage that isn’t nurtured. A marriage requires love, patience, understanding, friendship and forgiveness in order to continually bloom.




















Love is forever