4 july 15

Free to Express – Free to Explore – Free to Think – Free to Speak – Free to Believe – Free to Be F R E E D O M . . . 

It’s a good thing 

☮jill 

  

Out of darkness



Wild winged friend

Wild winged friend
distracted me today

Eye-to-eye
urged me silently

Unwrap my wings
fly far away

Across the miles
into the magic woods

Reclaim the stolen
free my soul

©2013 jill terry
Jillterry.com

fly fly away . . .

He was especially early this morning, 7:15, when he walked in the room saw me sitting at the desk writing as I listened to music; smiled and said “That’s my girl!” He walked over to where I was, I stood and he gave me a giant hug, took me to the bed checked me once more over, told me how wonderful I’ve done and set me free!

Well, till next Monday anyway…

©2012 jillie
Jillterry.com

Dearest Alix,

Would you make me a beautiful corpse, for all the world to see – then turn me to ash and release me to the breeze. For my life light shines so very dim, and I’m all out of bulbs to make it bright again.

~ jillie

©2012 jillterry.com

HOPE DOESN’T FLOAT…IT SOARS

Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly…
~Unknown

The day dawned
Bright and new
Sunlight streaming
Warm breeze wafting

Pulling me from sleep
A magickal slumber
Awakening at last
To a brand new world

Strange and foreign
Yet somehow seemingly familiar
Where my first thoughts
Were not of another
But simply of myself

Taking moments to realize
A transformation had happened
And things that meant
So much yesterday
I find now of absolutely
No consequence

Shift happens
So I’ve always said
Having fully believed
Now finally experiencing

Thinking of myself
Finally for a change
In a positive light
Completely unselfishly

Taking care of me now
Priority number one
And those who choose
To be part of my life
Can take me as I am
Or simply move on

I will not apologize
For my thoughts and my feelings
For my wants and my needs
For my faults and my weakness
For my human frailty

And while they are still
Very much part of me
They no longer define me
This person I am

An independent thinking
Strong-willed intelligent woman
Who will no longer settle
For less than she deserves

I fell off to sleep
Bleeding, bruised and broken
I woke filled with courage
Hope and determination

I will no longer suffer
Or be any mans fool
A new day has dawned
And I’m changing the rules

©2012 Jill Terry

FLYING HOME

Attempting flight
Breaking free of gravity
That holds me down

In my thinking
In my feeling
In my being

Wanting desperately
To rise above

These emotional obstacles
Release the floodgates

Feel the strength
Once more of my
Passions

Unleash my spirit
From these constant
Restraints

Stretch my wings
In a state of grace

And remind myself
Who I really am

©2011 Jill Terry

True to you

Release your soul
From martyrdom
When the cause is
Misunderstood

Stone walls cannot
A prison make
If you have freedom
In your love

©2010 Jill Terry

Bottom Rung

He could have taken her to the Grande Palace Resort, but chose a seedy hotel on the waterfront, within walking distance of the Pier; for it lent an air of noir to the affair, that mixed well with her fatalistic attitude of their coupling. Though he hated when she spoke in “after the fact” tense, it was one of her curious traits that he found most fascinating; her ability to see the world in ways and realms that most could not; including her knowing how they would end, before they even began.

He was a superficial praise whore to be sure, putting himself at the center of attention if he didn’t happened to automatically fall there; and while those around him found him an overbearing, egocentric ass, she sensed his insecurity and saw something deeper that others did not, and that’s the part she wanted to touch. But their chemistry and attraction was unparalleled and irresistible; taking them straight to that line they should never have crossed; the means to their inevitable demise.

The path by which she led him was laden with mystery and truth; the things they did in room 231 was nothing short of debauched wickedness. Touching on every human compulsion and desire; connected by kismet, each movement determined. She coaxed him deeper than he’d ever gone, then feasted on his philosophy, all the while stroking his ego and soothing his soul.

The scars she was left with are worn as badges of valor, for the end was truly a vicious battle; and while she believed that he’d grown from their time and experience, in the end he retreated right back to that haven of superficiality, convenience and comfort; the one that stifled, restricted and smothered. The one he thanked her, on countless occasions, for releasing him from.

What she hadn’t foreseen was the coward he’d become when the black cloud moved in and ultimatums rained down; choosing to cling to collected possessions that held no meaning, but symbolized his monetary value and social standing; rather than harnessing his soul that had only just begun to soar, and riding the current of freedom wherever it happened to take him.

She understood the cruelty he showered upon her, in the form of his words immediately thereafter; actions displaying the stand he was taking, to appease the one he’d forsaken; malicious words intended to wound; of regrettable mistakes and meaningless missteps, that he would spend the rest of his life repenting. But the blatant disrespect he hurled in her direction, when their paths crossed and they landed face-to-face, was more than she could suffer.

She knew their truth, yet he chose to live his own lie; and she’d walked away peacefully with no looking back. The justification for his hatred was pure ego-driven; reminding and rubbing her nose in the fact, that he stood far above on the ladder of success and achievement, whose rungs she refused to climb; when he knew deep inside that his position and wealth had never meant anything or impressed her in the least. She was the only true spirit he’d ever known; her freedom the very thing he longed for – the one thing he was afraid to embrace.

The depth of his shallowness was revealed to the world, on that cold, rainy November night. The camera crew zoomed in on the crime scene; police tape blocking off the street, a shiny, silver Maserati parked in the alley alongside the Hotel Palamar. Two victims found in the car, both having died from multiple gunshot wounds. President and CEO of prominent architectural firm and an unidentified prostitute, both having met their untimely demise during an apparent act of unfinished fellatio.

She gazed at the image on the television screen, as the camera panned out and revealed the full scene, her eyes were immediately drawn to the window on the second floor; a window she knew too well – the window to room 231, where they’d carried out their affair.

They say some men you just can’t reach, and while she didn’t doubt that for a moment, she also believed that upon reaching that place at the core of one’s soul and touching upon the truth that dwells there, some simply aren’t courageous enough to reach out and embrace it; choosing instead to succumb to their fear and fade into the illusion.