Sleeping Beauty

Sleeping beauty rest my eyes.

Slowly dying, pain of mine.

Crumpled pills stay my pain.

Nightly cycle spin again.

Wake me up, come wake me now.

Wake me from depression’s cloud.

Kill me now, please kill me now.

Swallowed gently without a sound.



Beep-Beep & Cheep~

Opinionated Man:

A lot of bloggers sharing great photos for Sunday! Wonderful looking birds! -OM
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Originally posted on :

The Holler really is ‘for the birds,’
but, then, as you’ve probably noticed by now, so am I!
They make the nicest neighbors,
greeting us in the mornings, and flocking in droves to the feeders at sunset.
Our son calls the roadrunners our “pets.”
But they are wild creatures, who choose to live inside the refuge of our fences, which protect them from the Holler Wiley E’s.
We also have found our refuge here, amongst this wild family.

Cheers to you from wild creatures great & small because they are your family too, after all~

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Silent Sunday: On the river

Opinionated Man:

Beautiful photo! Makes me jealous! ;) -OM
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Originally posted on Reflections and Nightmares- Irene A Waters (writer and memoirist):

© irene waters 2015 © irene waters 2015

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Do Black Lives Matter to Us?

Opinionated Man:

What lives matter to you? -OM
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Originally posted on Whit C.:

My husband and I were having a discussion about the latest tragedies, where innocent black lives are being taken for no particular reason. I told him how it literally made me sick to think about; to know that yet another man/woman/child is being slain by a white person. I am usually not one to focus solely on the specifics of it just being black on white crime, but lately it’s hard to ignore or spin any other way.

My husband on the other hand, had a different perspective of the situation. I am paraphrasing what he said, but he basically asked this question:

black people are using these opportunities to rally, march and speak out about the racial war between us and white people, but what about the internal race war against ourselves?

That question really made me think long and hard about things. Most times, when I am on…

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I could use a word over and over. Banging its head against the frame of our relationship. I might caress that word and make it melt letters. Teasing that word till it begged me to bend it over and fuck it. Would I gain pleasure from such dominance? A need to impose my will against another. I will shackle that word and chain those word strings to my ankle. The rattle behind me reminding me of my ownership.