Cutting a Toxic Person from Your Life…#350  

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Recently, I made the decision to “block” an individual from my life. This was not easy! I felt it necessary as I do not want nor am I able physically to deal with the drama. In doing so I gave careful consideration to what it meant to be “toxic”. They met all of the criteria, and the drama was draining me of what little emotional energy that I possessed during this difficult time of my life.

The time I have, I want to put toward completing the book that I am working on, and trying to put those in my life that wants truth and not lies. A life time of lies have been overlooked, and much of it does not help me conserve my strength. I have not posted for awhile, but felt this was a good subject, there may be others who have held onto toxic situations and this posting may help them to turn loose.

Toxic behavior is generally defined as any behavior that negatively impacts others. The greatest one I believe is taking everything too personally.  People are toxic to be around when they believe that everything happening around them is a direct assault on them or is in some way all about them.  Toxic people are unhappy and unhealthy on the inside. Common traits of a Toxic Person are, they always want to be “given”, they live in a crisis mode, all the time.   

Common traits of a Toxic Person are, they always want to be “given”, they live in a crisis mode, all the time.  Nothing is ever their fault, they never follow through, and they lie about things that do not matter.  They have no empathy for others.  

It is not wrong to eliminate Toxic People from your life, you cannot be firm or set boundaries, it is not your job to save them.  When it’s done, it’s done; treat it like a breakup that it is.  Toxic people will do their best to drag you down.  It is you that feels the anxiety, it is you that blames yourself on your communication skills.  Toxic people will drain you of your energy.  

If they are doing this to you, cut them out of your life for good.  It’s not a sentimental journey, delete, delete, delete.  It’s time to put yourself first.  The behavior of a toxic person will affect our mental health and well-being. They have the power to sick the joy and happiness from within you and replace it with stress, anger, sadness, and other unwelcome feelings.  

When you go through life believing that you are owed something, you will suffer endless deficiency; this is true of a toxic person.  Toxic people blame everyone but themselves for their so-called “woes”.  Toxic people act without sincerity, integrity, and honesty.  Their world is made p of chaotic and unpredictable problems.  A toxic person needs constant attention and will go to any length to get what they desire.  

A toxic person’s life is filled with dama.  They believe that the worst will happen to them so they cannot enjoy their day-to-day living.   Their negative thoughts lead to negative actions and soon find themselves in a downward spiral to a bottomless pit. yy never follow through, and they lie about things that do not matter.  They have no empathy for others.  

 It is not wrong to eliminate Toxic People from your life, you cannot be firm or set boundaries, it is not your job to save them.  When it’s done, it’s done; treat it like a breakup that it is.  Toxic people will do their best to drag you down.  It is you that feels the anxiety, it is you that blames yourself on your communication skills.  Toxic people will drain you of your energy.   Their negative thoughts lead to negative actions and soon find themselves in a downward spiral to a bottomless pit. 

©2021.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree
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Beware of the Politician…#348

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Beware of the Politician...
In this tedious, disastrous land
We must be doubtful of the
Political ignorant.
They seize my senses in how
They deceive and when called
Out they act belligerent.
They are slowly taking from us
The values we hold dear.
Beware the politicians
Control our lives and rule by
Fear.

 ©2021.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

©2021.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

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Recalling Time…#347

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Mindful

Micro Poetry – Recalling of Time

Memories, the past has many doors to open, one could spend a lifetime in these corridors of time.  Rooms bulging with stories good and bad; they rise to fill our minds with happiness, joy or sadness.  Like soft petals falling to the ground, so does the memory of our life fall gently upon our hearts?

©2021.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

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A Life Unrepressed…#345

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Today, I feel blessed…

I have spent the last three weeks in the hospital and one in a rehab/nursing facility, four weeks..  I fell! I was transported to the hospital.  Within the one week that I was there I was diagnosed with bone cancer, severe anemia and the fall broke my back and right foot.  I am on the mend; cancer will never go away, a rare one with no cure.  The anemia will hopefully at one point change and the broke back will mend.  I have a back brace that has to be ultra tight on me, and I must wear a brace for the rest of my life.  Oh well, I still have my sense of humor!

That’s the bad news; the good is that I have mega writing time. I feel stripped of both worlds.  Only my computer gives light to my days and nights, creating reality and chalets the world of imagination.

I want to share the meaning of creating poetry.  What I see in a poem, it is an image in my mind that must have all the words come together to creates a story.  When creating a poem it becomes the center of my existence.   A writer, actually lives in two worlds, one of reality and one of make believe.  There are times when they meld together; I fear one day the latter will become my only world.  This may come with senility?  At my age, I doubt I will ever see that stage of life.

Currently the world of make believe, fiction, blogging and imagination serves me well.  It masks the pain!  My site, gives me an outlet to create in my poetry how I feel emotionally too.  The realm of imagination is one of quiet periods of reality and fiction join together to give the strength to find a reason for existence.

Peace and Love to each of you.

E.

A Life Unrepressed
Lighting surges through a war of disrespectful words, tears descending, wet.  In times of uncertainty, an unknown sadness is out of control, a smile, a gesture; or fear clings to a receptive body.  Words may not bring rest or smiles, the soul deep within knows.
There is no one that can unlock the heart, nothing that can be said or felt.  Thoughts, do not reveal or conceal, disguise the lack of sympathy, place blame and criticize.  Alienate the voice, if only for one moment feel free.  Fate, possession, strife, and life.
The genuine self, forced to obey, despite and un-regarded life blind to the hurt of others will embed hate eternally.  The knowledge of life fire and force, walking down a rough path; deep pain.  No spirit, hate has the power to control, nameless feelings that have conceded to a life unrepressed.  Speak and act so no one will know hidden damage floating down to the soul.
The hidden self, inward strife and following demands; in return, a thousand nothings, all-miraculously give power.   Hide in the depths of the soul; echo speaks of pain.  Lackluster eyes stare, glare, and the words unspoken deafening creating fear.  A bolt of tones, frightening, is piercing ears.
No feeling stirs, the heart laid plain, unaware of a life winding down, no meadows of flowers, no sun, no breeze, and the madness is elusive to all.  No feeling, no respite.  In quietness, the war of mocking words; the tears, the sadness. The thoughts of the sea, the crashing waves; soul and spirit sinking within its wet madness and always stay, stay, and stay.
Too late, love revealed itself in death, and the heart has nothing to say.  Living and moving in disguises, alien, until the end.  Life had nothing to possess, strife, identity.  Blind, uncertainty, life no fire or restlessness, a thirst for the mystery of it all, nameless feelings lived in vain.  The loss, the heart lay open for all to see, the hurt hidden twisted among the rubble of pain.  Yet, after all that, there is tomorrow.  

©2021.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

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Why are we leaving it up to the children?…#342

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A Free America

Why are we leaving it up to the children?

Do you know your country, or do you only

Know what you are told by the media, or

Local gossip?  Everyone of color has been

Discriminate against, the whites have yet

To understand that they are privileged.

The status of your existence is unimportant

If you are poor and white, you still have

Priviledge over anyone of color.  You live

In America and you think that you are free!

Silence is our words, the stories we tell

Are not true; they are made up of all that

We wish to be.  The dead of the past are

All hero’s and we sing the praises of their

Names and their conquest.  Silence our words

For they are only half truths. 

We continue with our lives as if we know

Where we are going and what we are doing,

But do we?  Were we meant to be ruled by

A group of people that are out for themselves

Only?  They rule over all of the people.  Yes,

We voted them in, do we even look at who we

Put into office?  Are they fit to be an official?

Of the United States of America?  What is

Their personal life that will start the question

As to how they will act in their government

Life.

We, the people of our generation are lost, we

Have let the government get too far into this

Mockery.  These people we elect are in the game

For themselves and do no care about the people. 

They do not think about the children of today or

Of those that will be born tomorrow.  Will they

Have a tomorrow? Or will America turn into a

Third world country?  Will our farm lands be

Baron waste lands?

The land of the free and the home of the brave,

Will be a thing of the past.  Hopefully, someone

Will remember as there will be no books to read,

There will be no memorials to see, no places to

Visit with the family.  Those who still fight for

Freedom will do so underground.  They will be

Called the enemy, and they will be treated as

Criminals. 

There will be no government, but there will still

Be the fine places for the politicians to rule from,

And they will still live in the finest homes, their

Children will not be hungry.  Yours will.  Our

Military will be those who guard the officials and

Keep in line the people; keep the peace so to speak.

The people will live on little as the government will

Take the largest portion of your hard earned money.

Your children will go hungry!

You will live in unawareness, you will believe that

The present is all there is, you will be passive in

All things.  Yet, there will still be those few who

Believe in what America once stood for, they will

Be the ones who continue to see it as a free nation.

They will fight to live in a nation that is for the

People, by the people.  These Fighters for freedom

Will never go away, you the Government will not

Sleep at night for you will be Afraid that the

 “Freedom Fighters” will come to Take back their

Country.

It is time that you, as adults stand up and fight for

Your children.  Leave them a government that is by the

People, and for the people.  You cannot bring back the

Books that have been band, you cannot bring back the

Statues, the many memorials torn down, you cannot

Bring back the land that has been desecrated.  But,

You can see that they have a government that will

Have the people In their sights when voting on issues

Of importance.

It is time to vote in decent human beings, those who

Truly believe in a free nation.  Let’s, start at home,

Bring into the lives of our children a freedom that they

Will pass down to their children.  It is not about us,

Those that will not be here to know that they are free.

It is about the children, those unborn that will inherited

This land called America.

©elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

Love and Forgiveness…#340

Art by Elizabeth Ann Johnson-Murphree

The hospital room has become a sanctuary of darkness and light.  My Angels are living here with me during every sleeping and waking moment.  Their love and kindness are teaching me patience; the pain cleans my soul showing me the way.

I do believe that their light shines upon me.  They also with the pills made available takes me from the darkness and pain, the pain is leaving me with a certain wisdom that I have never known before.  Maybe this road that I must now travel is a blessing in disguise.  Bone cancer, will do this to one!  One where I can see the truth and bring it to others in my writing.

If this newly found wisdom brings me closer to home, it will all be worth it.  My Dixie is another Angel in my life, so loving never meets a stranger, never mad always happy and she loves her mama.  When you are looking death in the face, you either embrace it or try to hide it.  I am trying to be open to this new chapter in my life and share it with all who will read my blog.  It is hard to explain how beautiful life can be if you remove yourself from toxic “things”.  Love and forgiveness is truly the right path to journey upon.  I will continue to write my fiction, to create my poetry and prose.  Please visit often.    EAJM

Broken Bones and Tainted Blood…#339

My screams are silent - 

Instant mad insanity -
Scattered - 
Crushed - 
 Tainted -  
Misery at it's worse,
mind open to emotional 
torture, screams wailing
bringing self, and  the mind 

to unthinkable thoughts.
Paranoid  scenes, unknown people.
Unknown, unbelievable actions.
Mind searched for a way out.
Fear begins within, and I am now 

a hostage in this place of misery?
A room with no way out?

My back is broken, a clean break,

that snapped like a  dry twig in

the fall.
Something grips my soul
The hospital bed is spinning
Covers flying in all directions
the cup of ice water finds my 
ridged face
Is death cold?
I hear trombones playing soulful 

music  in the distance,
Now it is all returning to my normal.
Have I hit my head once too often, 

have  I seen the scattering of blood
I questioned my misery, lying there 

on the cold damp tile,
Have I finally gone mad?

©july,2021.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

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Southern Chattels and the Birth of the Cotton Fields…#320

Alabama 1850 – Elizabeth Ann Johnson-Murphree

Southern Chattels and Birth of the Cotton Fields…

Upon the waves of a tranquil sapphire ocean sails

a vessel from hell, the purity of white foam

bellowing in the warm wind gave no warning of

what lay within its dark belly.

Fear of the unknown soon turned into panic for

the confine souls taken from where God intended

them to be.  Their freedom imprison by rustic chains. 

Their blood spilled on the land they once loved.

Greed and ignorance of unyielding traders brought

pain and profit from the gentle forest, spring waters,

and warm earth.  Marched for days without food or

water, not knowing their fate.  Different tongues

melded among the scared, the innocent.

Swathed in tar pitch to cover the gnashed bodies. 

Clothing to cover their purity, only to be handled

like the beast of burdens they would soon become.

Sold at the auction block to the highest bidder,

speaking words that they did not understand. 

Marched in chains to the land of their buyers.

High upon his noble steed the taskmasters whip

reached its mark while the plow buried itself deep

within the rich red southern soil.  Without food,

water, or rest, toiling from daylight to dark to bring

in the “Masters” crops.

Living in conditions worse than the animals of the

fields, cold, unbound, with no place to run.  The

lands of their ancestors lay unknown in a place that

would soon be forgotten.  What was all of it for,

the Gods, no!

The sun and rain nourishes without judgment, both

the just, and the unjust, the vessel from hell has since

vanished; blood and sweat planted a seed in earth’s

womb and she gives birth to the white man’s gold called

“cotton”.

Copyright©2021.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

AUTHORS NOTE:  I wrote this poem over the past several weeks.  Politics, rallies and violence from the white people has covered a once proud nation.  Somewhere along the way during this political time we have lost sight of other drastic problems in our nation.  The BLM movement.  Have we learned nothing as a nation?  The trials of the Black people did not end with the Civil War and the freedom they was given.  There was no justice then and there is no justice now.  These proud people were taken against their will, dropped into misery by the white southern land owners.  They were not allowed to read or write they had to live as “slaves”.  This was a problem when the War ended slavery, many land owners cruelly tossed the black people off their land.  They did not know what to do, no education, no jobs, no homes.  When the white man saw them seemingly without purpose walking up and down roads, it was not that they were lost; no, they were looking for family that had been taken from them.  With the presidential election over, with a pandemic possibly under control, let’s not forget that “BLACK LIVES STILL MATTER”.  Let’s not forget the “whiteness” of our skin and the privilege that comes with it.  We must always remember, lest we forget the horrors of the past.  We are all responsible, we all need to focus on the moment and do what we can to make the lives of a great people better.

You missed a bit

Outstanding post, read and enjoy. E.

Keith Kreates!

19-02-2007 14-45-33_0025a

“♫ One man and his dog, Spot, went to mow a meadow. ♫”

“What are you singing?”

“♫ One man and his dog, Spot, went to mow a meadow. ♫”

“Why?”

“Seems appropriate.”

“How so?”

“I’m mowing, ennit?”

“Allegedly. Thing is, Dear Heart, you aren’t a man, neither of our dogs is called Spot and, oh yes, neither of our dogs is with you – and what it amuses us to call our back garden is hardly a meadow.”

“Poetic license.”

“The license that would help you most is a driving one, not a poetic one.”

“I have a driving license and you know it!”

“I was speaking ironically. When do you think you’ll be finished?”

“Probably when I’ve done it all.”

“What am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

“Haven’t you got any work to do?”

“Finished it.”

“Okay. You like to be ironic – there’s loads needs…

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The Lighthouse

Ivor, a great site to visit and often.

Ivor.Plumber/Poet

Today, here again I am presenting another ‘5min’ poem that I wrote at Ali Grimsham’s ‘Writing Circle’ Zoom meeting this morning (haha, “at 6.00am”) and I would like to thank Ali for giving me an opportunity to participate in such a fantastic event … Here is the page link to get more information about the next “writing circle” event.https://flashlightbatteries.blog/online-writing-circles/Tickets by donation. All are welcome.

The Lighthouse

I am afloat

In between

Here and there

Am I lost?

My ship clock

Is a sundial

Using the moon

To reflect on time

I hear the waves

Pounding white hooves

A heavy sound

Of many moods

Is the sea growing wide?

Is the light glowing brighter?

Ivor Steven (c) Feb 2021

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