WHY?

Romans 14:10
(10) But why do you judge your brother? Or why do you show contempt for your brother? For we shall all stand before the judgment seat of Christ

A good thing to remember when passing judgement of any kind!

The Power of Observation

Amazing Powers of Observation

Do you notice the subtle but common things all around you?
Do you hear the voices from the dark matter about?
Or feel the vibrations that linger and shout,
How about the entities and spirits reaching out too
Or do you feel that is a falsehood and something untrue?
What about what NASA has just discovered, the sounds in space,
Do you think they just started out of no place?
Or do you realize that the sounds are all about you here on this plane too
Oh I forgot you are sane, aren’t you??

Do you know the feeling of seeing and hearing these things?
On a daily basis I simply remain and sustain,
Attempting to stay sane,
To know that the oddities that I see, hear & literally feel,
they’re going to stay, for YES they ARE real,
They are not a figment of my imagination no way,
For far to vividly they are displayed.

But others would see that as simply not normal or unusual.
Or consider it something that only a bipolar or someone delusional
Could experience or see because they are “crazy”,
But instead perhaps it is they that are hazy,

And unaware of the details about them, oh alas…
The smells and the motions that linger and pass.
For yes I have olfactory perception too that far surpasses what others notice,
That should be no surprise since professionals told us,
That bipolars are a little more perceptive,
Yet society is rather rejective.
And the motions, oh they are not just motions you see,
They are people, and places, and landscapes here and to be.

They shouldn’t ignore these things you see,
For they have a purpose that lasts for all eternity.
They penetrate the mind and embed in the soul;
With the encouragement that there’s far more out there to know
Yet dealing with bipolar rapid, mixed mood cycling and other illnesses to boot,
Leaves one thinking that perhaps others aren’t just rude and crude,
But that they don’t get it, and never will, I believe:
For it is not something they WANT to perceive.
And yet as a bipolar I seem to somehow accept and ignore,
The discrimination for it matters no more,
For these things stand out and are quite evident to me,
That most of “bipolars” wear emotions on their sleeve.

The majority of the masses go about seeking their goods and material things
And forget about the smallness of their being,
They don’t want to realize or entertain the thought; that they are not the core of existence Instead of accepting an alternative state of being they snidely point fingers persistent,
On faulting those that might see the “details” so divine
So disturbing at times and others peaceful and sublime.
And they go about; (yes, these “normals” will parade with heads held high
All seeming cut of the same cloth and with exasperated sighs),
Will proceed considering “us” out of line;
Or insane, or crazy or touched in the head
When in fact we notice the intricate details instead.

But why should I expect any different from others?
When its has been proven time over and over, and always hovers,
That no one wants to take a moment and listen:
To the things that keep this world spinnin’.
No it interferes with the buying, the going, the party,
The times that allow their hearts to be tardy,
Or solves their need to be “out and about”
To be part of the “normalcy” society they’ll dance and they’ll shout
To remain eternally blinded you must understand,
That they can never join the ethereal band;
For never will they notice the details that abound,
Here and there and all around.

The delicate veins of the leaves,
Or the miniature pieces of dirt at their feet
Nor the sunrise so preciously peeking over the horizon to give light,
Or the sizzle of its daily setting as it lowers itself to bed each night,
And moves on to give its celestial partner its turn;
To glow and to emit a slow reflective burn,
For it never ends its cycle you see,
Just as a bipolar it continues to be.

Over and over the cycles they rotate and whirl,
Giving a sense of a much larger world.
Than others can or choose to see
I’m not sure which it may be.
But I know being touched with the “fire”
That I can see these things hour after hour.
I know the forces that are and those that are not real
Yet I also know the ones that I feel.
Deep inside, deeper than anyone could see or detect;
But I must keep that under check.
For they would taunt or tease or distance themselves far,
From someone who claims to be so off par
Of what the world only WANTS to see and know.
But trust me there are those of us who can’t show
The things that we see that are all around you my friends,
And it will never ever come to an end,
But it isn’t something to fear or run from;
But to learn something valuable and beyond comprehension: please come!

And yes it will enlighten your mind,
to step into my parlor and spend some time.
You’ll see and hear the things quiet subdued
In this hazy world I live in masked right beside you.
And you will be quiet surprised no doubt
When all the things that you find out,
Were really there all the time!

The thoughts and perception of a bipolar mind
May just be above the normal average ability,
To look past oneself and see credibility
In the DETAILS: the powers of observation,
They really are quite amazing.
So don’t discount anyone on a judgment, stigma or label
Instead step into those shoes for just a moment, if you’re willing and able.
And then smile or frown, cry or scream,
Whatever you feel it will be temporary,
Remember those of us that can’t take off those shoes
Are there beside you and yet you never knew,
For we can wear the mask so tight
That often it even gives me a chilled fright
That I don such a thing to just go and be
Something others take for granted: is that I am the real me,
But little do they know instead, I am whirling in my head
Ready to curl up and go to bed,
Yet too filled with nervous energy that turns quickly to anxiety,
And thoughts that pervade my mind are always with me,
And yet the weariness, oh the weariness comes and goes here and there
Today it is here; tomorrow it is there,
And yet I chase it around with determination
that I will not be bound by their limitations
And therefore I focus on the factors making sound,
They are all around….
Be it throbbing pain, beating of my racing heart, or feelings I’ve fought
Or often times the pounding of the thoughts;
Just thoughts so random from here to there they scatter
Upon my dusty floor …but no matter
I can pick them up once again as quick as a flash
For no matter how hard I try to hide them they can’t be stashed,
Or silenced or eased off by command,
No that takes the DIVINE hand.

And when my troubles seem to be getting a little too tough
I know in my heart and soul and from his precious touch
That the Lord is with me and will always be,
Without him I couldn’t make it past ME….
“I just can’t keep myself away from me” someone once said,
And NOW I get that completely in my head…
A truth for us all to contemplate,
But no, most would think it only belongs on a bp’s plate.

For the oddity will need something on which to cling
And no one else is able to sing,
In the same note as I am, no matter their good intent,
For I don’t know where everyone’s morals and empathy went.
But need it not, no not one bit,
For holding our head high and yet knowing that we’re spent,
Gives a weird sort of satisfaction to know that we are just “bent”
In a different sort of contortionist way
And that it will all be okay,


To just stay the course of knowing our illness is here to stay
Yet education and proactive is the ultimate way
To face the obstacles and play the masked game
For the bp hurdles are always the same,
And at least we have a title, and a direction of cause and treatment too
But yes, it will always be with you
…that they have told me more than one or two.

It took a while for the doctors to convince me,
For I was resistant to accept it at first,
And the paranoia kicked in and said I was coerced,
Then I began to realize the differences in me,
That in others I could not ever see:
The Mania sent me whizzing about
And all of the projects I had to get out,
Regardless how silly or small they may have seemed,
to others looking in at my pipe dream.
Constantly thinking of what amazing things I could do
From writing and drawing, and never ever through
For I get distracted from chore to chore
And eventually learned not to take on any more ..
And then end up sleeping upon my bed mid afternoon
For my body often feels as big as a balloon (all 110 lbs of it!)

My body an armor a force upon which I must fight
To move my arms and legs day and night
Yet I am not complaining and know there are others FAR worse
Than anything upon my plate and I don’t come first
And never should I nor anyone really,
Yet The Normals, well they are privy.
And will eternally go first into that bright city light
While the hermit like bps shiver in fright
Or of paranoia or panic attacks and ocd
But do you hear complaints from me?

No you do not, for even if I could without incident,
I know that I would have to be bent
Into a million pieces before I’d relent and go to a public mass of place
And yes that even includes with the mask upon my face,
One building, two or even three….perhaps
But trust me you don’t want me to lapse
In a pubic place and be along with me you see;
For embarrassing it would be for you and me,
But just be there for me and listen sometimes
That is all bps want not intricate attention and chimes
Heralding out their illness and symptoms,
But someone who can keep secrets with them,
Some one who can listen and really try to get the gist
Of what we try to explain through our eternal mist,
Yet how to describe the indescribable I would like to know
For then I could tell you, or even put on a show!
Of what it is like to be "the me" I am
And know that some one somewhere I’m sure would understand,
But I know not why or how or when,
For I’m the same as when I began,
The same person, the same blood type, the same fingerprints too
I am the SAME person, why can’t that point get through?

But trudge on I will step after step through the landfill,
Of hallucinations, delusional thoughts, and the mood swing mill,
For I carry that glass without spilling a drop so far,
And remaining half full it will not mar,
The life I have left here on this plane,
And know another awaits me where my abilities will be considered SANE,
For it will remain half full at all times no matter what others do,
I have to hold tight to that and I will, and I want to help others steady theirs too.

For there is nothing that can fill that self acceptance space,
But my belief that God has put me in this place,
For a reason, a reason yet I have to discover,
Yet with divine intervention I know I’ll uncover,
The spot in my life so preciously the Lord’s
And with him and his white soldiers and swords,
One sweet day he is going to come for me
And take me and my loved ones to heaven you see
Therefore I must endure this domain on which I am sitting
Until that meeting…
Until that meeting…
I will endure, but not near what he did for ME
And yet so few refuse to see
That it was done for them too without complaint or comment one
He took it all upon his Son,
And here we are, now judgmental and shouting,
Complaining and grouching,
Where has all the love and compassion gone?
My amazing powers of observation are telling me it was but a song….
Yet a beautiful one…..
So why stop singing, for we are not done!

There needs to be something, somewhere, somehow,
To make others stop and recognize NOW
What they are doing to each other each day
Through their words, their work or their play
Whatever it may be we face each morning and through out the night
We should never give up the fight.
To stop the stigma, stop the labels, stop the judgment…
For no one on earth is able…
Cast the first stone…
Go ahead and toss it alone,
For if each faced their own demons inside,
Everyone would be ready to hide.

Yet I keep watching and I keep hoping,
That this world will awaken and stop cloaking,
All that are touched with a spark and a flame
Into a category that they consider the same,
For even with a mental illnesses or even a physical one
We aren’t meant to be clones and our evolving never done.
Yet my experiences offer little hope for change,
For humans are creatures of habit and seem to often cage,
Their unfounded beliefs and ideas
And never let them be altered in their heads,
That wouldn’t be kosher or normal you see
So therefore my hope must lie within me.

How hard that is at times it is true
But touched with bipolar I never fail to find a creative way through
The briars and brambles that plague my daily path
Another unknown or ignored fact,
We are the dreamers and the creators of the beauty
So in touch with what I see now as a duty
To pry open the eyes and hearts of those quite gone cold or self inflicted blind,
to the unique beauty of the bipolar mind.

Can’t you see it in our eyes, in our demeanor,
That we are in touch so much more than what is behind your pointed finger?
Regardless if you can see it or care to look
We are still existent and so many before me have shook
The very pillars of this “normal” society without revealing,
The embers that burned inside their psyche quite willing
Yet they too wore the cloak, the mask and the cover
For the masses would undoubtedly hover
Over the state of the mind, not the performance or accomplishment
Therefore silently I sit
And keep my internal gears to myself as I’ve always done
Watching the ever rising sun
With these secrets that I never knew were “abnormal” from others
And who’s to say what others have under THEIR covers,

Even as a child my perception was supremely intense
Noticing so many things others missed,
The voices I heard and still do to this day
I felt others heard and just ignored them away,
Visions of things about me I would see
And it took years to learn, that others would claim them not to be
In existence: although they were and still are very vivid to me.

So I choose to live in the world of which I’ve been placed
And thank the Lord above for the obstacles I face,
Yes I said THANK HIM beyond words to explain
For I truly believe that perhaps WE are the “sane”,
If that is a word that anyone wants to use
For I believe so few have a clue,
That normalcy isn’t something that can even exist
For we are all made different in every single sense.

So speak not to me of insanity and abnormalcy please,
For I get down upon my knees
And reflect upon my daily hurdles and trials
Often trying, not always able, but trying. …to face them with a smile.
And know at the end of the day,
I have come quite a long long way.

Do you feel that satisfaction inside
That you’ve hurdled obstacles far and wide
To just get through the 24 hour day
Regardless of the oddities you feel in every single way?
I can hold my head up and know,
That I faced the demons of the mind, the hallucinatory show,
The delusional thoughts and yes the mania and depression too
ALL within 24 hours mind you.
So speak not to me of normal and sane,
For I will tell you again,
There is NO SUCH THING!

DANTE'S Poem

Dante's Prayer
When the dark wood fell before me
And all the paths were overgrown
When the priests of pride say there is no other way
I tilled the sorrows of stone
I did not believe because I could not see

Though you came to me in the night
When the dawn seemed forever lost
You showed me your love in the light of the stars
Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea

When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me

Then the mountain rose before me
By the deep well of desire
From the fountain of forgiveness beyond the ice and fire

Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me

Though we share this humble path, alone
How fragile is the heart
Oh give these clay feet wings to fly
To touch the face of the stars
Breathe life into this feeble heart
Lift this mortal veil of fear

Take these crumbled hopes, etched with tears
We'll rise above these earthly cares
Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me
Please remember me
DANTE"


On the two hundredth year of Dante' I thought that I would put up his "prayer" that was written so many years ago. I do NOT see this as a gloom and doom type of poem, although it does repetively speak of "please remember me", I do not think it is meant to make us feel anything but joy and appreciation of a promise made to us all that will forever stand.

It is refreshing to see that through the depression, through the reflection, even Dante' viewed the glass half full. For when those dark nights seem endless, we must recall the good things in our lives, the positives that lurk in the corners that we often fail to see. The beam of sunlight trying to burst through and touch upon your gentle face, the moonbeams tickling your inner child, the stars winking from above, the ocean roaring upon its shore and leaving treasures for gathering, the tenderness of a hand reaching out to guide or help you, and how each of us are entwined in a quantum form that we will most likely never understand; all should give us pause and help us understand the beauty he was trying to portray.
To remember: to recall: to keep deep within, a knowledge that we all are evolving into what our life purpose is to be.
Although often WE can not see it, WE may not instantly know, the plan will reveal itself through time. We must not let others who may think that they know the paths we are to follow, to lead us astray, and never let them take away the fact that there is someone, who will remember you...with precious thoughts, priceless memories, and a heart full of love.
Dante is unfortunately attributed to only one thing, The Theory of Evolution, yet his words were taken astray. Read more carefully those of you who may think they understood what was taught in classrooms across the nation; Dante's words were expanded upon to become what is a misconception of his meaning. In my opinion, it's a classic example of one with beauty within, misunderstood to the end, and his unique perspectives askewed by others.
But should that surprise me? Of course it should not, for humankind seems to prey upon its own species, making one that branched out from the norm, misinterpreted for gain...a diving board for others to plunge from their own lack of insight into the creative and observant mind of another.
He did NOT state we derived from an amoeba...read his writings yourself, take no one's word for your own knowledge. Seek and you shall find...never search and you will stay dormant in your perceptions.
Dante' was a very creative being, and for that "I will remember" him. Not for the changing of the "WORD" for that was not his intention; but for the dedication to detail I will remember a man, so misconstrued, so many years ago seeking answers and intricate signs of things that we might not know.

Even through the Storms of Life

AN ETERNAL PROMISE LINGERS,
Do YOU see the promises and the blessings?
Do YOU notice the details that prove,
WE ARE NEVER ALONE in this confusing world no matter what we do?
Or do you only see the storm clouds sneaking in to mask,
the love and protection that the LORD promised would always last?
Look a little closer, inspect a little more,
and I am surely confident that you will see the shining shore,
that we all have been promised, that we all have a chance for much more
than this temporary home can provide no matter its sly deception,
for all will rust, rot or corrode with only ONE exception...
THE PROMISE!!!
LOOK UP< NOT DOWN< and I'm sure you'll see
Just exactly what I mean.
Keep the faith, keep in your heart and soul,
the things our spirit ALREADY knows!!

How can You Say?

How Can You?? ctrygirl 2008


How do you say goodbye,
To things that were once a part of your being,
A part of your existence and self recognition?

How do you say its alright
In the middle of the night,
When the voices are shouting otherwise,
And you aren’t sure if your dead or alive?

How do you say it’s going to get better
When nothing you see or read or hear
Can even touch the truth, the actuality of that very thing that plagues you,
Knowing there is NO cure, there is no magic pill,
There is not much understanding or tolerance in the world here,
Not on this plane anyway.

Yet we are to say,
It will be alright, some day some day.

How do you say don’t cry
When you don’t know the why?

How do you say be strong
When the rope isn’t that long?

How do you say ignore that vision
When it could possibly have a mission?

How do you one by one forget the tales of old,
How the world was in a choker hold;
The pain and the sorrow has flown over the land,
Evil and goodness hand in hand;
The joys and elations have flocked the skies,
But in the cracks and crevices therein lie
The secrets that we often pass by.

How do you say it’s okay?
To ignore the details, the intricate touches of beauty,
The mysteries unknown, is it not our duty
To search for them like a buried treasure?

Then How can you say…..
Forget it all and seek only pleasure?

For this world is full of things unspoken,
Full of secrets kept as some valued token
To hold beyond the reach of those who might not have insight
To the things kept deep within the darkness of night.

How can we say anyone can heal?
When the world is spinning like a wheel,
And there doesn’t seem to be any signs of its slowing,
Materialism and selfishness is growing!

Yet, we say…..
It’s just YOU…it will all be okay,
AND perhaps it will….

For I know from atop this hill,
The sun will come up and shine on me still,
therefore I too must say....
It will ALL be OKAY!

Listening to the World Spin

Listening to the World Spin
ctrygirl 2-09

Can you hear the world spinning beneath your feet?
Why look at me so piously discreet?

I mean this statement to the very core,
For I’m tired of not sharing it anymore.

I can feel the touch of the wind upon my face,
Watch the rain come down upon this place,
Admire the gently rocking, falling leaves,
Hear the whisper of the falling snow upon the trees,
And find awe in the setting sun each day
Glad that I could share it with my family in someway.

Yet I feel the earth a churning,
the fires of change a burning,

The ground moving endlessly beneath my feet,
And I quietly take my lookout seat,
I keep watching so perfectly stil,
and I keep hoping that someone else can feel,
The moving the boiling
the endlessly toiling,
Those rocking gently upon their feet,
Hoping to find some kind of peace.

Ripple Effect

DO YOU THROW STONES OR WEAVE?


"What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others." unknown author

We all must be aware of how we treat one another and how we perceive others to be. Often times we are not aware of how intricately we affect others and how we "weave" ourselves into their lives.

Therefore it is imperative that we remember how we are all in a sense "quantumly entangled".
What you do and say, how you behave and treat others is yet another rock in the pond that will create ripples that flow from shore to shore...stopping only after the shores absorb the impact.

So be aware of how you treat and react to others for everything you do affects someone somewhere somehow.

I Saw it ALL; from inside and out

(public domain picture)

I Saw it ALL
ctrygirl 01/09

Why is it that others don’t believe our reactions are vividly clear?
Do they think that this illness makes me unable to HEAR?

Not necessarily the words, the whispers, but the actions instead,
For I’ve seen the light, I’ve seen inside my own head,
My own mind so riddled with too many numerous obstacles to face
Alone and on my own I have entered a forbidden place.

Things others don’t and wont’ ever see,
Unless they can establish the insight that fully encompasses me.

But others would find that quite odd would they not?
Thinking of mental illness, insanity, or sympathy sought.

Nothing could be further from the truth,
But how to show that to others, with some kind of couth,
Without losing some sort of dignity and acceptance?

Instead I am expected to keep up the tribal dance…
The dance of others to their chosen tunes
Not the one to which I dance from midnight to noon,

It never leaves me, this song others tune out
The true music at which I never ever doubt
Is meant for me to hear and analyze in my own way
Why others can’t hear it I really can’t say.

It is quite a simple tune at which I dance and live
For I ask nothing of others, yet expected to constantly give
Give up my views, my voices in my head, my feeling of being touched with fire,
Perhaps it is only in MY head, but these things I did not desire.

They came upon me, chose me as the vessel of their message,
Whose to say that it isn’t MY carriage,
My destiny to be this way,
Why do they continuously make me feel astray?

When my heart and mind DO hear and see
Things that others simply may not privy or hold the key.

Now most would say this is grandiose thinking,
Perhaps it is, perhaps it is a message clinking
Over and over in my head and a voice from deep within
Sent from who knows where, and if it’s simply sin.

For many would say turn to the LORD and be healed,
How little they know how many times I’ve kneeled.

And how much HE is with me,
Regardless their human made laws on the bible you see;

I’ve read it front to back many times over,
And never has he asked me to hover,
To those being judgmental and feigning all the answers,
To what problems we encounter.

No I will take his word ONLY, and no additions from man
For humans, well THEY could NEVER understand.

And does it not say DO NOT ADD to the text,
Or the words of the Lord?
No I’ll trust on his promises, and only HIS word.

For My GOD doesn’t make mistakes,
So therefore I must be in the right place,
That HE wants me to be….
Regardless of the words I’ll endure from others and judgment I’ll see.

I know my faith is not lacking or feigned,
So with the Lord’s words I’ll remain!

And ignore those that say I am cursed or have sinned
For although we all sin, I know my love for the Lord will win,
And Yes I might encounter obstacles on the way,
But can’t you see he intervenes EVERDAY??