You See That Mountain?


My Mountain

You beat me

When I was down

You whipped

Me to the ground

But now I

Am a man

Standing

On two feet

On solid ground

I ain’t gonna take

It anymore

You’ll never

Whip me again

For you see

That mountain over there?

It has my name on it

And I am going to

Climb it to the top

Open my lungs

And yell

Freedom!

This is all mine

And I’m gonna

Place a stake

On it right now.

Written by,

Terry Shepherd

11/11/2013

 

 

 

flowing water

Born Free


I Am Free

Free to be who I want

Free to go where I go

No one can stop me

From being who I am

You can disagree

But we can agree

That I am me

And you are you

Please don’t even try

To change me

Respect me and I

Will do the same for you

No more slavery

No more chains

Free to ride the waves

Of life to walk

The pebbles on the beach

Free to breathe fresh air

Free to be me

What a fantastic feeling.

Written by,

Terry Shepherd

11/11/2013

 

waves

Picture it & Write/ Ermilia


http://ermiliablog.wordpress.compictureitandwrite2copy-1

sunset-jarIt’s where I wish I was

Right now, for I feel

Trapped within my own

Jar of life

The lid tightened

The colors foggy

Pressing against

The glass no one

Sees me as my

Reflection bounces

All around me

Forcing me to

Look inside

At my own person

I cry to get out

But you don’t

See my tears

It is up to me

To turn my

Entrapment into

A release

For my soul

For my health

I stop, and listen

My mind speaks

I must be free

Once again.

Written by,

Terry Shepherd

08/04/2013

FWF Free Write Friday; Image Prompt


http://kellieelmore.com/waving hand

Freedom, the feeling of no more people telling me what to do. No more parents butting in. I can make my own decisions from here on out.

I just graduated from high school. I was an adult ready to make my own way into the big world. Ready to discover what was forbidden for many years.

I had received a lot of money for graduation gifts. After counting it up I had a total of five hundred dollars. I was out of here. Out of this joint called home. Making plans with my bestie, we were on our way to have a great time.

She and I were taking two weeks and having the time of our lives. Meeting new guys was our number one goal. No more books,we were going to  stay up late, sleep  in late. What could possibly be better?

We didn’t have a destination. We were letting the spirit guide us. We would stop when we needed to and eat where we wanted. The money in my pocket would get us anywhere we wanted to go.

Driving down the open road, listening to the radio. Laughing our asses off. Neither she nor I heard the truck behind us blaring his horn. When we did, it was too late. Our trip was ended too short with five hundred bucks in my pocket.

FWF Free Write Friday, Special Edition


Freedom Bell - Washington Memorial Chapel, Val...

http://kellieelmore.com

What Does Freedom mean to you?

When I was a child, freedom meant staying up later on the weekends when I didn’t have school. Being out with my friends riding bikes. Picking the routes we wanted to ride, instead of someone else. Going to my friend’s house and raiding their refrigerator that was  packed with more junk than mine.

In high school freedom meant choosing the classes I wanted to instead of having it the other way around. Bringing out of my own soul  my thoughts on  independence. Beginning to show other humans what I was designed for. Being able to pick and choose which boys I wanted to choose as a boyfriend. Making choices about friendships I wanted to have.

When I was given the keys to my own car, I had the freedom to make good choices and keep the privileges of driving or making bad choices and paying the price. I could choose to stay up past my bedtime and do bad in class or go to bed on time and give the classes all I had.

As a young adult, I had the choice to have children or not. To marry or stay single. For most of us, we could decide whether we wanted to make our first time having sex our choice.

Now that I am middle-aged, my choices seem to be taken a way from me. Or is it that I am more mature and see more of what the world is today. I still have the choice to speak my mind, but do I really? Could what I say end up on a public forum such as Facebook and be banned?

I still have the choice to vote equally as a man. Is my vote sacred and safe? I don’t know the answer to that. I hear so much in the media about tampering that I suspect the only truth I will ever know is buried deep in my heart.

I still have the choice to be healthy or unhealthy. Do I really? When is the last time you went to the grocery store and tried to buy all organic or healthy foods? Did you notice the hole in your pocket when you went to pay for them? Have you noticed that foods that are good for you are considered premium prices? It is much cheaper to eat junk food, but harder on the heart.

We still have the choice and freedom to pick our doctors, hospitals and insurances. But, do we really? Can you see it ending as others voices ring louder than our own? Will there come a time that we actually have to give up our insurance because of the premiums or pre-existing conditions?

I do still have freedoms that can not be taken away. They are my choices to make. I can breathe. I can pray. I can look at each day as a new day with the right attitude. I am free in this land. Free to be myself. It is only from our soul that the corners are being pried off little by little, like taking a band-aid off very slowly so it doesn’t hurt so bad.

We are guaranteed some rights to live on this earth. I only hope that all countries work together to keep our freedoms alive. That peace is among each of our neighbors. We are truly blessed when we look deep down into the ground. You see some dirt covering the seeds, but life is beneath it, growing and strong. Ready to unite together to help us to remain free.

What We Think We Know


You have heard the saying before, I am sure, that if you have not experienced it, you don’t know what I am talking about? I think this refers to me last night. Al is slowing down so quickly. I see him struggle to get out of the car or off the couch. Our bodies, when we want to move, we just “get er done”! When Al wants to  move, it takes much time to get the brain to tell the body part what to do, then the brain has to register what the movement is, and then the body tries very hard to do the action. Let me tell you, with great pride and stubbornness, it can be done, but it can take several minutes to make one action complete!

Here is a good example at our home. We go to the grocery store to get the much-needed foods, mainly getting Al’s desires. As I don’t want him to lose anymore weight, I give into his fantasies of his taste buds. I pay for the groceries, and I load them into the car, and I have this done while I am waiting for Al to still get into the front seat. We drive home, and I get out of the car, and unlock the house, and carry in all the groceries, and still wait for Al to get out of the seat.

Can you picture now how long it takes the brain and the body to join together in thought and get moving? The frustrations that he feels, the humilites that follow him when others are present. I truly believe that this is the major reason that Al gets so nervous and stressed out when we are in public. He is overly concerned about what others are saying, although I do believe that most do not pay attention to him, it is Al who pays attention to his own self. He forgets how to use the levers on the scooter and ends up crying, making me wish we would not have went out.

Then you have the other side of the quarter. Al wants to continue to go to outings, and wants to live like he no longer had Parkinson’s. You know within your heart, it is going to not be a happy experience for him, but you can not take a way the desires  he has, just because you know the better part of the outcome.

I took Al to a car show this past weekend, and he did fairly well. We took his scooter, and it was held under the open skies, so there were no boundaries for him to bump into. I have had to change myself, in the way that I was brought up. Don’t talk to strangers, don’t interrupt another person’s conversation. Don’t be a loud mouth. Use your manners we taught you. When I stuck the key in to give power to the scooter, I also gave power to let Al be Al. He smiled immediately, for one he was going to look at antique cars but the most important thing, I believe he smiled about was freedom.

This freedom gave him power, power that he used to have to make decisions for himself. He went to each car, and looked it over. Every single person he saw, he scooted his way to them, and started carrying on conversations as if he and they were old-time buddies. He was having a grand time. It was not a huge car show, so I stayed in the background with people who I knew, and just kept both eyes on him.

It warmed my heart, and I even over looked the people who wondered what he was all about and who was this person coming their way. He finally did come back, his lips were quivering, his body filled with so much sweat from the work of making the scooter go. This was a lot of decisions for him. Who was he going to talk to , what was he going to say, which way was he going to make the scooter go.

He was very tired and he wanted to go home. He could not get out of the scooter because he had used up all of his energy on his journey of independence. He needed help to also get into the car, but in his eyes, and also mine, it was worth every second to see him having time to be who he used to be.

This is what you lose when you gain Parkinson’s. A huge part of your personality and what you represent here on earth as a whole.  The whole life of a Parkinson’s patient turns into a live nightmare, as you continue to try to live and breathe air.

Last night before we retired to our bedrooms, I saw him struggling so hard to get off of the couch, that I walked over and for one of those few times, I did offer to help him get up. He had been struggling long enough, that he didn’t hesitate my offer. When he finally worked his body to the edge of the couch, he held out his hand for me to help get him in the standing position. I gave him a gently tug, and he came up.

Without me living what he is living, I can not fully understand the body he lives in, and I automatically let loose of him once he was standing. I only think I know what he is going through, other wise, I would not have let go, and for this mistake he didn’t stop moving, he tumbled on over, once I stood him up. I felt so bad for my mistake and kicked my own butt for not thinking. I caught him before he hit the floor, and I apologized to him for having the strength of THE HULK, hoping to get a laugh or smile out of him, but it didn’t work. When I looked into his eyes, I saw fear, fear of being out of control and fear of wondering where he was going to be landing.

I am trying harder now to realize I don’t know Parkinson’s. I only google it, listen to doctor’s words, and watch Al. I am not going to beat myself up for this lack of thought process, but I did learn to be more cautious, and realize I can not know what others are living or thinking, until I have lived it myself also.

We reach our hearts out

And offer our help to

Be a friend and lend a hand

Only finding out that we are

Nothing but grains of sand

In this vast world and land

But we must be loving

And children of God

We continue our work

To  show that we care

To allow them to live and be willing to dare

To live and to love and to be

Course of impulses between the brain and the body

Course of impulses between the brain and the body (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

who they are

We can not dismiss them as the weak and the sick

For it could be us, walking on the end of that stick.