Monday, 23 March 2015

Sharing Some Love....

DISCLAIMER: I did NOT write this. My husband did. We were discussing yesterday whether or not we wanted or needed one another. I told him I needed him and felt his presence was a necessity to life. Although his initial response was not this wordy... I woke up to this today and felt loved beyond words. So, although it wasn't written by me, it was written for me and thus blog worthy. ;)


I need you to tell me to pick up my clothes,
I need you to tell Niven to stop picking his nose.
I need you to tell me to take the kids here and there,
I need you to tell me that you always care.
I need you to remind me of the things I need to do,
I need you to tell me to do them now too.
I need you to yell,and to scream and to fight,
I need your heart in it or it will never feel right.
I need you to keep track of, to budget, to plan,
I need you to manage our extended kid clan.
I need you to smile, and love me in bed,
I need you to calm, my hot tempered head.
I need you to laugh to chuckle out loud,
I need you beside me, so I can be proud.
I need you to help me guide our kids through life,
I need you to be my strong, beautiful wife.
I need you to grow old with me until we are grey,
I need you to keep yelling, I won't hear a damn word you say.
I need you to be there when I take my last breath,
I need you to know I love you to death.

~ by Amedeo Ruberto

Photo by: Gabrielle Rubin of Firefly Photography

Wednesday, 18 March 2015

Monumental Pieces

Monumental Pieces

I am one-hundred-thousand tiny pieces 
    scattered on the earth. 
I am a perplexity of emotions,
    a conundrum of cause and effect. 

I am discombobulated odds and ends 
    falling through my hands.
I gather up my parts
    these tokens
    that make me whole inside. 
My harvest rich with revelry
    and with mourning. 
    This is a reaping of remembrance. 

These mementos once relinquished 
    in disarray amidst my time.
I am an infinite enigma,
    one of the grandest proportions. 
I am a mystery
    even to myself 
    an audacious and beautiful bewilderment. 

I am transfixed 
    by the separation of these fragments 
    dispersed within my soul.
I am confusion 
    and yet composure 
    residing in one dwelling.  
I am a contradiction of rationale. 
    I am a medley 
    only avowed to some
    in delicate partitions. 

My complete being
   a fantasy theorized, 
   but never witnessed in entirety
   for I am Delphian by nature.
I accept my inexplicability 
    the complication that abides. 

I am a masterpiece 
I am artistry and elegance 
    fragmented in moiety. 
I am mesmerized by my pieces 
    for this is my innermost treasure, 
    these partitions of my soul.

by: T.J. Ruberto (c) 2017 

My friend and blogger over at Between Now And Zen wrote yesterday about the puzzle pieces of his soul and how he feels as though he is forever trying to pick up the pieces, create the bigger picture,present the masterpiece as a whole. This got me to thinking: aren't we all a bit of a conundrum? Don't we all keep parts of ourselves hidden from the world, from ourselves? Don't we all experience times when we just can't pick up the pieces, we just can't get the picture, we just can't figure out who or what or where or how we are or were meant to be? I know I feel completely lost some days. I feel as though I am incapable of keeping all that I am together, the pieces on the same planet let alone in the same room. What I am trying to learn, accept, and understand, is that my discombobulation is ok, that I am not alone, that I am perfect within my imperfections. So, whether or not I have it together today or tomorrow or the next day, I am still beautiful because, quite simply I AM. I am alive. I am present. I am submerged in a world of light and love and happiness. I am because God gave me this life, these gifts. He gave me the difficult and the challenging so that my soul could learn something important, to take something substantial into the next life. God gave me my peculiarities because that is what keeps things interesting, makes me different, and propels me into the next stage of this magical journey. 

Sunday, 15 March 2015

The Phoenix Rises Above


A locution is not the weapon you portray it to be,
It is but a word, a collection of letters, a song of syllables,
And yet you wave these designations around like a well-honed sword.

You puff out your chest and thrust your chin to the sky,
A mighty warrior armed with words in place of weapons,
You take your place upon the battlefield prepared to scathe your enemy.

But there is no one there, no antagonist to play out this game,
Your opponent is, but a poem, a release of feeling, another's opinion,
Yet you lash out, thrashing at the invisible, spewing hatred at an author unbeknownst to you.

When your supposed archenemy takes the higher ground, providing no rebuttal,
You repeat your tyranny, repeating the same words to the same tune over and over and over again,
You lash out, but there is no enemy to prevail, your weapons futile in the ether,  you remain adrift.

There is no clash, no duel, no contest, left to be fought or won,
Your enemy has risen from the ashes, gained power from your flames,
This phoenix you pursue will not be captured, will not stoop to your level, will not be maimed by your appellations.

You are but an invisible warrior lost in the vastness that is.
by: T.J. Ruberto (c) 2017

Friday, 13 March 2015

I Forgive You.


You are a drunk,
A slave to alcohol,
A gluton of booze,
A beer guzzling, ethanol disposing unit, and nothing more.
But, I forgive you.

You are a donor,
A sperm provider,
A giver of cum,
A woman fucking, ejaculating dick, and nothing more.
But, I forgive you.

You are a traitor,
A yellow neck coward,
A red face tyrant,
A child abandoning, abusive bastard, and nothing more.
But, I forgive you.

You are a loser,
A sorry excuse of a man,
A disgrace to your name,
A waste of skin, taker of space, depriver of oxygen, and nothing more.
But, I forgive you.

You are a vile equivocator,
A creator of untruths,
A master manipulator,
A narcissistic fibber, a false witness,  putrid perjurer, and nothing more.
But, I forgive you.

You are a child abuser,
A hate filled monster,
A violator of souls,
A gangrenous disease, culprit in our veins,  havoc inducer, and nothing more.
But, I forgive you.

You are a despicable story,
A distant memory,
A past recollection,
A resignation, a cast away, a forgotten mistake, and nothing more.
But, I forgive you.

You are my father,
A part of my DNA,
A co-maker of my skin,
A donator of genes, a giver of blood, a witness of conception, and nothing more.
But I forgive you.

This is your absolution.

~ Written by: T.J. White (c) 2015

*** Due to threats from the man this blog entry is about, I have removed his name. My biological father, the one who never paid a red cent in child support and abandoned my mum and I, threatened legal action if I didn't remove this post. In the next breath he threatened to get on a plane and come over to Canada to "kick my door in". 
Let me tell you something, B.M., I will not remove this post. I have removed your name, not to save your glorious reputation (that's a joke), but because I can't stand seeing any part of you let alone your ugly mug. Furthermore, keep your idle threats to yourself. You want to get on a plane to come and kick another daughter's door in, go ahead. You'd think you'd learn your lesson after kicking your youngest's door in, but apparently you're too delusional to see the stupidity in your ridiculous threats and embarrassing behaviour. ***

Wednesday, 4 March 2015

Gold Rush In

Gold Rush In

Repair me with gold
to find the beauty in my flaws. 
Fill these empty spaces
where I once was.
I am shattered.

Fix these cracks
so that I can feel whole again.
Build me stronger
than I am capable of being.
I feel broken.

Pick up the pieces
of my soul and look upon them.
Figure out the complication,
the mystery I am. Or was.
I am fragmented.

Search for me
within the storm of pain;
within the heartache.
Reach out to me,
medicate what torments me.
I am suffering.

I do exist somewhere
within this tornado of despair.
Destructive winds battering
all that I have left.
But, I am not destroyed.

I am still in here
that woman that I was. Before.
I am camouflaged
by the monster that feeds upon me.
I am hidden.

For now I rest in the eye
of this apocalyptic terror.
Breathing in. Breathing out.
Coping as best I can.
I am surviving.

I cannot see the light
to break apart these shadows.
I cannot hear a sound
to crush the deafening silence.
I feel empty.

Yet, I hang on
by a golden thread;
a glimmer of hope that you are there
Reaching out to me
to ease the heavy burden.
I am waiting.

I know there is something left
there has to be;
a lesson in the journey.
There is a message I struggle to hear
over the roaring of this demon.
I am searching.

Please, rescue my poor soul
from the belly of the beast.
Show me there is beauty
in my flaws, in my broken parts, within me.
Am I worthy?

I need to hear you say
            I am stronger than I think.
I shine brighter in the darkness.
I bend, but I do not break.
Remind me that
I am golden.

By: T.J. Ruberto (c) 2017