Mothers/ Actions instead of Words
They say we need black fathers to stand up and be responsible.
I say what will it take to change this cycle of sexual misbehavior in front of our children.
Some one is not doing the job of teaching them what to do and not to.
So who does the blame fall on?
The mother who has been beaten down so long she submits without a fight.
It seems words are not the answer, then maybe actions are the answer.
By that I mean that we as grown-up handle our selves different. In
front of our kids. Its us to say one thing with words and our bodies
say another.
We say a woman shouldn’t go to bed with a man if youre unwed. Yet in homes we do just that.
Then we tell our children with word they shouldn’t.
We say we love our children yet we don’t hug our children.
So when our child gets that hug of affection somewhere else its confusing.
We say no with words. Then say yes with our actions.
What is a child to do? What is a child to think?
We as mothers say we hate our boy friend.
Still we sit with them, kiss and show them
Pieces of ourselves, that for some reason we don’t share with our children.
Like conversation, understanding, joy, peace, time.
Some children never get that moment they think they should get.
That pat on the back for doing well.
That smile to reinforce that what you just done was appreciated.
Yet! We give that lover, that friend, so much attention.
Come on moms we got to get this right, or your grand kids wont have in house dads either.
Just some man who stop in for a booty call, or to drop off 10.00 for diapers.
If theyre lucky.
We got to change this cycle of no touching, talking, caring, or showing.
Our children, this gift that God blessed us with, how much we love and want them to live a better life.
I say it mothers who need to demand, through actions, and by showing instead of just words.
By: Patricia Robinson-7/27/09-3:pm
Living with seniors illustrates life's lessonsBy Patricia Robinson
I live with two seniors, one 90, the other 92 soon. I've been with them for eight years, way before they needed someone to care for them. I have seen them at their best, strong and powerful. I have seen them barely able to pick up their heads from some kind of illness. I have seen them go from fearless to fearful. I realize what makes them strong enough to endure is the stepping into God's promise. I'm the person God puts with them to help them succumb to life's ultimate promise, death. They start to sleep a lot, their appetite is no more.
That strong man who once ate the biggest amount now refuses to eat.
Saul, 92, is the man of the house, and I see the pain he feels as control is slipping away. As his wife argues about things that don't matter. As he gets weaker and weaker, things that meant the most are there, but he hasn't the strength to do the smallest of them - his gardening, his care of himself.
I see his fear, his pain as life slips from his weak grasp. I see his eyes as he tries to stand, as he fumbles in his speech, his walk so slow and tiring he can't walk his little dog, which I feel made him live these last years. I watch as he makes a mistake and doesn't wish to share it with me. It's his fear of the unknown that keeps his eyes almost in tears as he tries to talk about what he can't do anymore.
I sit and watch him as he refuses the help to get up from his chair at first, then after about a minute life's truth allows Saul to allow me to reach out my hand in friendship and help.
A smile comes to his face as I pull him from his seat gently. I try to be his friend and caretaker at the same time.
His wife, Beth, is the total opposite of Saul. She wants the attention. She has lived a long life and wants to be waited on. I feel she makes the usual unusual. I feel she wants to be a lady in waiting. I tell her not to push the being served in bed thing - it will come way too fast as it is - but she wishes to be waited on, served, cleaned up behind. She wants all the attention. Remember, this lady has been a housewife for more than 70 years. Waiting on her husband, doing his bidding, his washing, cooking, sewing, fetching for 70 years. She was and tried to be the ultimate housewife as he sits and beckons her to do these things. I feel both forget that neither is strong enough to do what has to be done.
I'm watching growing old at its best today. Two people who have lived a long, beautiful life preparing themselves for what life brings. Sometimes I feel to them it isn't coming fast enough, and they don't wish to be here sick and not being able to do for themselves when it comes. They are two people who have lived life to the fullest. Yet now they wish to leave. Not cause others a lot of problem, they don't wish to be put in a home. I'm trying my best to keep that from happening. They have two daughters who live in Florida.
They love their parents, but life is coming to an end for them, too. As for me, too. I'm 61. Old and trying to keep this house as homelike as I can. For two strangers I met in 2000, two people who helped me be who I am today.
Two people who opened up their heart to help me find my way. Two people who lost their youngest about a week before I was to be released from jail. I believe God wanted all of us to live in peace together. Without confusion and struggle, without pain and suffering. I hope I have helped this house to be as much with peace as I can, in their second childhood.
The Under Cover Christians, Uncovered
I sit and I watch those who say-that they are Christians today.
I watch them as their smiles don’t glow-their inner emptiness so thick, I feel it so.
I watch as they talk behind other Christians backs-gesturing, and laughing, grown-ups acting like brats.
I watch as they yell instead of talk-weakening the foundation as they try to walk.
Weakening their children, their husband, wife-using the tongue as if a knife.
Yet as I grew up-Christians didn’t have such a rough touch.
I remember many times in my young life- as my uncle would speak to his wife.
They were Christians and I felt their love-comparing them to my other aunts and uncles and the roughness of.
It was a difference that couldn’t be ignored-for my mother, I always wanted more.
Since I’ve been a Christian, I myself have changed-my life has been rearranged.
I have so much joy in my life today-I thank Him for that push the right way.
I can't stop smiling about what God's blessings have done for me-inside my heart cries out thank you for loving me.
I can't treat others hateful or mean- God's given me the ability to see the unseen.
To see the worst that is in this world-and try to change it for our boys and girls.
A good Christian shouldn’t walk with a frown on their face-because what we show determines the sweetness of faith.
And there is a sweetness that the Christian shows-it's in the shine, the glow.
It's in the touch as arms are raised to others-it's in the compassion we show to our brothers.
Because Christianity can't blossom without God's angels-faith is the story every Christian should be trying to tell.
We are His feet, His hands-because God uses every bit of man.
He uses us to stir up the story as it's told-as He sends His angels to help save our souls.
I know the angels He sent for me-were strong and able to help me be free.
A true Christian is willing to glow and show-but the undercover Christian doesn’t allow themselves to glow.
By: Patricia Robinson-5/4/09-4:30pm
God's trying to show us
God's trying to show us today-that he is the only way.
He’s trying to show us, it's not about material things-it's about what faith brings.
It's God whispering to us, please examine the choices we make-and return to your faith.
Return to the simple things of life-be a better mother, father, husband, and wife.
Make God's whispers matter today-allow the change of a better way.
We take too much for granted, which dims our glow-I believe our struggle is the show.
It’s to show us that in life we have failed-Listen as the news spins the tale.
It's God's way of bringing us a rough touch-In hopes we get, what God's trying to show us.
He wants us to listen to those whispering in his name-Because he doesn’t really want to send the floods or flames.
See some of us are so into clothes; cars and money-material things replace our faith and spirituality.
Material things don’t bring joy or peace-it brings worry, as we toss and turn in our sleep.
It brings a coldness that grows colder each day-soon we even push God away.
We forget God gave his son's life-that through faith we would shine bright.
God sees what is going on today-the whispers are to show us the way.
But if we never understand what we hear-we won't get the Joy, the cheer.
We won't share in the gift that God freely gives to you and me-our lives will be bound, never free.
Free of worrying about each step we take-because sin makes our lives so fake.
It's God's way of bringing us a rough touch-In hopes we get, what God's trying to show us.
By: Patricia Robinson-4/24/09/-8:30am
Its not nice to mess with Mother Nature
The Wildfires of Barefoot/Myrtle Beach
The other day Mother Nature was made very angry-So she sent wildfires to burn down a community.
She roared into town, bringing her raging flames-showing her anger, she couldn’t be tamed.
She brought crazy winds to blow the trees-powerful breezes, shaking loose dry leaves.
She brought temps. Sometimes warm, then cool-there is always a craziness, as we deal with April fools.
In April nothing is ever as it should be-just as crazy as the colors of the leaves on the trees.
It's as if Mother Nature can't make up her mind-as she sets the sun to give us more time.
Mother Nature can be harsh when she wants to be-and when she is upset she strikes with such fury.
She comes to take back what belongs to her-and nothing we do can change her roar to a purr.
They say we should not mess with Mother Nature's plan-if we do, she will come to take back her land.
She will come to give her animals back their homes-so they will again be able to roam.
She will again fill up her lakes, her springs-give the bald eagle a place to spread his wings.
We are the ones who stole Nature away-she is letting us know, she is taking it back today.
We ran off the turtles, the frogs, the squirrels and the birds-and when the green people protested, they weren’t heard.
So she comes back every now and then-to let us know the world belongs to them.
Oh! There is a place for us-but we as human beings, seem to want too much.
We want to live in the beauty, not just take a look-we inhale it, like an addict, thats hooked.
We load the landfills with reusable cans-not wanting to reach out our hands.
One person recycles, the others just throw cans away-we need to think like Mother Nature today.
We need to break down boxes, save aluminum cans-recycle your glass for the future of man.
By: Patricia Robinson-4/24/09/-8:30am
They’re trying to silence me
They're trying to take my words away-because some don’t wish to hear what I have to say.
My words come with truth-and life is the proof.
I speak of man black and white-I speak of how they shine bright.
Yet some one wants to keep me from being heard-I will not let anyone stop my words.
I tell of abuse, anger and pain-my words flow like rain.
Still there are those who want to put out my light-stop me from helping the fight.
I tell of children who bully others-as they choke the weak, as if to smother.
All because those who should see turn their heads-until some weak child hangs themselves until dead.
I speak of that perfect looking home across the street-that seems so wonderful on the outside to me.
No one knows what goes on behind closed doors-only she knows, when at night he knocks her to the floor.
I speak of what an abused child goes through-see I use to be one too.
I speak of mothers who prostitute their young-and doing it, only takes a flip of the tongue.
I speak of fathers who rape their daughters at night-slipping into their rooms causing them pain and fright.
I speak of brothers who hurt brothers-being sneaky, so they wont be seen by their mothers.
Still there are some in this society-that are trying to silence me.
They say they don’t need to hear what I have to say-think about it, it could be your child one day.
It could be your husband taking liberties on his 9 yr. old-it could be your daughter or son hiding the truth within their soul.
It could be your life in confusion each day-yet some would allow the poets words to be taken away.
Because they can't stand the truth-as they come to the realization that their lives are the proof.
All poetry is written for someone-written for that silent girl, or abused son.
Words are here for a lifetime-they are here to excite the soul, the mind.
Yet, there are some in this society-that are trying to silence me.
By: Patricia Robinson-4/22/09-4pm
Diabetes has me.
I wake each morning a little weak in the knees-making my way to my meter very impatiently.
I can barely see, my thinking is slow-and with a prick to my finger, my numbers show.
Will it be good or bad-will my numbers be so high as I record them on my pad.
I can't go out by myself at night-I can't drive because of my poor sight.
My meds make me eat too much-living with Diabetes is tough.
I run to the bathroom all the time-many times my symptoms are barely kind.
Everything is monitored in order to live-all because my pancreas takes instead of gives.
I go to bed at night, I kneel to pray-even with the diabetes I want another day.
I want to live with this overwhelming disease-and with the right dosage I will succeed.
I am 61 years old-my life has become charts and meds, as the Diabetes takes it toll.
As I see others suffering without in this society-I know I’m blessed even though Diabetes has me.
They say if I lose weight things can change-losing 50 lbs and my life won't be the same.
But I have to take the meds to have a life-and for 18 yrs. I’ve had to fight.
One day they will come up with a cure for our society-and until that day I guess Diabetes will have me.
By: Patricia Robinson-4/2/09-7am