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Life – A Poem & Prayer for the Grieving

A Poem & Prayer for the GrievingA Poem and Prayer for the Grieving

I recently lost my mother and even though we knew it was coming, it was still a very difficult loss to accept. This poem and affirmation prayer is for those who are grieving. I’ve had many suggestions, but one of the most helpful that I have received is to set aside time to grieve. Pick a time and review the experiences, videos, notes, and other communications from the past loved one. May you find healing in this process.

Bound

Sorrow sweeps through my soul like
The sword of yesteryear
Waves of sorrow smash upon my heart

Reminding me of you
Of your love
Of your kindness

I drown in the eventual stillness, gasping for air
Why was life so unfair to you?
But it’s me who doesn’t let go

It’s me who feels guilty for not suffering your loss longer
If I hold on to that feeling, then the memory
Of you doesn’t slip away

Miss the feeling of our etheric touch
I dreamt of seeing your soul last night but I had tied a rope to it You kept trying to fly away
But I kept pulling you back—You turned to me, broken

Today I cry and let you go—release you from the earth plane
The rope unties and I see your smiling soul fade away

Blessings

Dear spirit, God energy, higher self, universal knowledge, thank you for hearing this prayer as I need strength during this challenging time. I turn to you for guidance and love.

  • May I be strong.
  • May I have the strength to accept my grief.
  • I understand I feel grief because I have loved.
  • I know who has passed, would not want me to live in sorrow.
  • May I cherish their memory and remember them with fondness.
  • May I find peace.
  • I understand my grief has pushed other emotions and responsibilities aside. Yet, I can accept it.
  • May I have the knowhow to work with grief.
  • May I cope with this endless sadness and constant heartache
  • May I accept my loved one is no longer suffering.
  • Help me see the good in my life.
  • Guide me through my loss.
  • May I feel loving kindness.
  • May I forgive myself for the things I’ve done or not done.
  • May I accept that there was nothing I could have done to change what happened.
  • May I heal from the silencing of their voice and touch
  • May I set time aside to remember their memory
  • Thank you for having this beautiful soul in my life. I will cherish them and let their soul be free.
  • May I feel safe.
  • I send my love.

Thank you for hearing my prayer.

Blessings

The poem Bound is from: Inspire Me Series: Book 1 & 2

Listen to episode here.

 

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Life and Helplessness

Life and HelplessnessWhy do we feel helpless? What causes helplessness? I’m usually independent but currently what makes me feel helpless is the state of the world. I know I can’t change the world by myself. But I can do something big or small to help the community. So, how can I give back? One way I give back is with this podcast. I search for topics that can help the listener ask introspective questions. The only one that has the answers to those questions would be the person asking them. I sometimes get those ah-ha moments, and I might have asked myself the same question many times. Sometimes, it’s just the phrasing of the question. The Cambridge Dictionary defines helplessness as: The feeling or state of being unable to do anything to help yourself of anyone else.

GoodTherapy.org: Feelings of helplessness can be fueled by trauma, grief, stress, mental health conditions, isolation, and many other factors.

“The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly.” F Scott Fitzgerald.

“It takes courage to grieve, to honor the pain we carry. We can grieve in tears or in meditative silence, in prayer or in song. In touching the pain of recent and long-held griefs, we come face to face with our genuine human vulnerability, with helplessness and hopelessness. These are the storm clouds of the heart.” Jack Kornfield

“One of the biggest defects in life is the inability to ask for help.” Robert Kiyosaki

Asking for help is difficult, especially when you don’t know what to ask for. You just need help. I have found myself in this dilemma many times. Sometimes, just stating you need help will let others know you need help. I was once told when I asked for help that I surprised them because I needed help, since I usually look like I can do it all. I can’t, it isn’t possible.

A few suggestions I’ve tried on asking for help.

  1. Talk to someone you trust.
  2. Write it down. I wrote several books of poetry to get through my emotions.
  3. Meditation helped me be clearer minded, so that I can ask for what I needed.
  4. Always be kind to yourself. You are valuable. Know your worth.

The poem for this week is Frozen from Inspire Me: Raw and also in the compilation book Inspire Me Series: Book 1 and 2.

FROZEN

Sitting on a stoop in a barrio of Chicago
Summertime and everyone’s outside
Escaping sweltering heat from
Un-air-conditioned apartments

Everyone vocalizes in Spanish accents
Puerto Rican, Mexican—some Gypsies too
It’s Bucktown in the sixties

No attention to their surroundings
Cars breezing by—open windows
Giving relief to drivers

A two-year-old
Trotting down the sidewalk—Mom unaware

He steps out onto the street
Pounding heart—can’t speak!

I see, but no words
Feel guilty, but can’t move
He walks and hits side of moving car
Is thrown into the gutter
His mom screams, but he’s okay
Life continues. Reliving that moment…

I did nothing. I froze.

Many Blessings

https://www.goodtherapy.org/learn-about-therapy/issues/helplessness

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Overheard at Chica’s Café New Podcast

Overheard at Chica's CaféOverheard at Chica’s Café, Where Friends Meet is an entertainment podcast. New episode today. After producing two other podcasts, Poetic Resurrection, which is An introspective look at life and our Perceptions and Beliefs. It’s a self-help poetry site and Chica and the Man, As Unscripted as it Gets, is about two podcasters, Alex and Sonia who talk about anything that comes to mind on the day of the recording.

One of the episodes of Chica and the Man was called Overheard at Chica’s Café and I thought what a fun name for a podcast. It’s not gossip, just hearing two friends talk. This one is light and interesting, and the goal is to have it bring a smile to your face. Tune in.

Peace.

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Poetic Resurrection Podcast – Bimonthly

Sonia Iris Lozada Poetic ResurrectionIt’s been about a year and a half since I started the weekly Poetic Resurrection Podcast. I’ve met many beautiful and talented people. I’ve had several seasons.

The first season was about perceptions, which is what the Poetic Resurrection podcast is about. How we perceive thoughts and emotions to learn later in life might not have been our own.

Season two was about the theme of a Journey of the Soul, or, as others might call it, the higher self, the inner voice, universal knowledge, and inspiration. That inner voice teaches us our purpose and loves all, no matter our differences. It inspires, it’s tolerant, it’s accepting and appreciative.

Season three was Colors of Life. A look at how our differences can come together with acceptance and appreciation of our differences.

Season four is Awakening Dreams. The awakening of acceptance and how even the most difficult times can open up new opportunities to grow and live the life you can live. This is also the next title of my upcoming poetry book “Inspire Me: Awakening Dreams”.

Season five is up in the air. As of July 1st, Poetic Resurrection will be bi-monthly. It has been wonderful producing this podcast weekly but with two other podcasts: Chica & the Man (monthly) and soon to launch Overhead at Chica’s Café and working on acting projects it has become too much to produce, edit, and social media all the shows. Days to release will be on the second and fourth Monday of the month. So, in July it will be on the 11th and 25th.

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Awakening Dreams – Paul Meixner

On Memorial Day we have Veteran Paul Meixner discussing what Memorial Day means to him. We go through his journey from the military to the present day and how he applies what he has learned to the entertainment industry.

Today we celebrate Memorial Day. A holiday in the United States honoring the active-duty fallen soldiers. In 1966, the federal government declared Waterloo, New York the birthplace of Memorial Day. Waterloo was chosen because they had been celebrating their version of Memorial day since May 5th, 1866. They honored fallen soldiers by putting flags and flowers on their graves and closing their businesses.

Paul Meixner is a former US Army Infantryman turned Filmmaker and Weapons and Tactics instructor.

You can follow his adventures on Instagram @Mav11B and follow his podcast @ThunderPunkRadio with his co-host @FlirtCheap.

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Inspire Me Series: Book 1 & 2 Released

Inspire Me Series BookI’m excited to announce the Inspire Me Series Book 1 & 2 is now available on Amazon.

Some say we have a life to live, others say we have a Heaven to be earned. Some go through life alone. Others love the crowds. We move in a different beat. We are those who are not just dreamers, but dream makers, never an end to our possibilities, but only a beginning.

Get inspired by the ethereal and emotive words of Sonia Iris Lozada. In her collection of Inspire Me Series: Book 1 & 2, immerse yourself in a world of Sonia’s unique brand of poetry that is at once surreal, emotional, and dreamy. With each flip of the page, you’ll be transported to a new realm of possibility, inspired to pursue your passions and reach for your wildest dreams. Let Sonia’s words be your guide as you explore the depths of your imagination and create a life that is truly beautiful and magical.

These books are for anyone who wants to make a change in their life. It’s written by someone who has been there and understands the challenges that come with moving on from difficult experiences. The Inspire Me Series: Book 1 & 2 will help you find happiness, which was once out of reach but now seems so close at hand.

Pick up a copy of Sonia Iris Lozada’s Inspire Me series today and let the magic begin.

Available on Amazon 

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Awakening Dreams – Diana Rosen

In this week’s Awakening Dreams episode, we talk with Diana Rosen. We learn about her writing history from a journalist and non-fiction writer to a poet.  She has a fascinating history. She reads three poems and two are listed below. Bus Stop Story and Nectarines It’s a Heckuva Fruit!

Diana Rosen is an essayist, poet, and flash writer with credits in online and print journals here in the U.S., Australia, U.K., Canada, and India, including Existere.Ariel Chart, Rattle, and As It Ought to Be Magazine. She is also the author of ten nonfiction books and co-author of three others. She currently contributes content on food and beverage to various websites, and just released her first full-length poetry book, High Stakes & Expectations from the Tiny Publisher. Diana lives in Los Angeles where her backyard is the 4000+ acre Griffith Park, the largest urban green space in the country. To read more of her work, visit www.authory.com/dianarosen. To purchase her book visit www.thetinypublisher.com/shop

Bus Stop Story

The first thing I notice is the fine line of beard outlining his strong chin up to the side of his shiny bald pate. He walks restlessly, rubbing a forefinger along his left temple. Next to me another man poses the usual bus stop questions: Has the Number 50 come? You been waiting long? You work around here? The sound! The sound! Searing right through me it starts like a hum then goes higher, louder, from ah ah ah ah to AYE AYE AYE AYE, the man with the fine line beard flails his arms like a bird ready to soar, whirls and whirls then falls into the street like a boulder tumbling down the side of a mountain. The questioner and I rush to him. Still flailing, his right-hand clenches my left wrist like a crushing vise. We turn them over on their sides now, the questioner says calmly, his cigarette dangling from his matter-of-fact mouth, no more putting sticks in their mouths to hold down the tongue. As we roll the man onto his side, his hand drops heavily from mine, his huge shaking body becomes quiet. I’ve called the paramedics someone else says, they’ll be here soon, and with that, the chartreuse truck rolls up and medics step out, into their official roles. The Number 50 arrives and I climb aboard. The questioner remains with the epileptic. I can’t shake the sound or the feel of his grip. A few weeks later, the man with the fine line beard is back at my stop. I rub my left wrist. Our eyes do not meet.

NECTARINES IT’S A HECKUVA FRUIT!

Juicy warm, broiled with goat cheese and honey,
a must to bring my dad just to hear him laugh,
recite again from his favorite Carl-Reiner-Mel Brooks
recording, with the 2000-year-old man, velvet caped
and gravelly-voiced, who reveals he once dated
Joan of Arc, married hundreds of times, had 42,000
children and not one came to visit!

I don’t care. But they could send a note, write, “Howya, Pop!
 
True, Dad didn’t date Joan of Arc, but he did date
Pearl, his memories kept in the thick album
Of Kodak black and whites with curvy edges slotted
Into triangle, black corner holders pasted on dull
Cream pages, captioned, “Me and Pearl!” or, “Pearl
And Me” or, my favorite, “Guess Who?”

That Mom had no compunction about this totem
Of his life before us said a lot about their marriage
‘til death did part them. My stepmother helped Dad
buy a new suit and tie to meet Pearl and her husband
for lunch following her surprise call. You know what
happened. Civil conversation. The ride home longer
than to the restaurant, the scrapbook returned
to the shelf. Dad didn’t even reach a century much
less two millennia yet to the end, smiled to see another
fuzz-less peach, sweet nectar of summer, its smooth
skin not unlike Dad’s with its signature blush of red.

I still miss our calls.

What’s the secret to your long life? Reiner asks.
Nectarines! I love that fruit. It’s a heckuva fruit!

Listen to the episode on our website or Podbean or your favorite podcast platform.

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Awakening Dreams – Martina Reisz Newberry

Martina Reisz NewberryThe week we are honored to have poet Martina Reisz Newberry return to the show. We discuss her poem Glyphs in the Canyon from her new book Glyphs. We discuss how her poem, therefore, relates to life’s questions of reincarnation, thoughts, dreams, and perceptions.

Martina Reisz Newberry is the author of 7 books of poetry. Her most recent book is GLYPHS, due out in May 2022 from Deerbrook Editions. She is also the author of BLUES FOR FRENCH ROAST WITH CHICORY, available from Deerbrook Editions, the author of NEVER COMPLETELY AWAKE ( from Deerbrook Editions), WHERE IT GOES (Deerbrook Editions), LEARNING BY ROTE (Deerbrook Editions), RUNNING LIKE A WOMAN WITH HER HAIR ON FIRE: Collected Poems (Red Hen Press), and TAKE THE LONG WAY HOME (Unsolicited Press).

Newberry has been included in The Cenacle, Cog, Blue Nib, Braided Way, Roanoak Review, THAT Literary Review, Mortar Magazine, and many other literary magazines in the U.S. and abroad. Her work is included in the anthologies Marin Poetry Center Anthology, Moontide Press Horror Anthology,  A Decade of Sundays: L.A.’s Second Sunday Poetry Series-The First Ten Years, and many others in the U.S. and abroad.

She has been awarded residencies at Yaddo Colony for the Arts, Djerassi Colony for the Arts, and Anderson Center for Disciplinary Arts.

Passionate in her love for Los Angeles, Martina currently lives there with her husband, Brian, a Media Creative.

Listen to the podcast on our podcast page or on the Poetic Resurrection Podcast website.

THE GLYPHS IN THE CANYONS

I’ve forgotten those times between
wakefulness and dozing and sleep.
I know something happened,
but I can’t recall what it was.
It’s like trying to recall where
I was just before I was born.

My friend tells me that this is the
reason I should never fear death.
She says, “You don’t know where you
were before you were born, so why
fret about where you’ll be after
you die?” This is wisdom I can

acknowledge, but from which I glean
no comfort and it is comfort
I want more than nearly any
thing. I want the great eyes of God to
turn my tears to opals and the
great tongue of God to tell me that

life and death are the same–that I
will keep loving and making love, and
walking and humming, and wanting
and holding, and will never lose
my appetite for joy or for
potato chips and onion dip and ice cream.

Between wakefulness and dozing
and sleeping, what is there to know?
Who do I serve awake/asleep?
Who do I honor when I doze?
And why is wakefulness the stain
on all this embalmed paradise?

(In addition, we are Amazon Associates and proceeds go back into the podcast)

Glyphs is available on Amazon

Her other books are also available on Amazon, Deerbrook Editions, and other book retailers.

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Awakening Dreams – Inspire Me Perception

In continuing the celebration of poetry month I am reading three poems from Inspire Me: Perception.  We are welcoming back poet Martina Reisz Newberry. on our episode on April 25th.

In this episode, I discuss the poems from Inspire Me: Perception.

Inspire Me: Perception was recently re-edited and we will release a compilation book of the first two Inspire Me books this month with a preview of five poems from my upcoming book Inspire Me: Awakening Dreams. Enjoy!

The poems in this episode include “Silhouette”—a poem about a traumatic experience “Food”—a poem about my love of food and how a loving family makes fun of you and currently the most popular poem “Tomorrow” about how we view life and rethinking our perceptions. Various lines from “Tomorrow” have been quoted by several websites. Please check out the poetry section on this website.

Silhouette

A dark shadow appears—soul shakes, the body suspends. A story of an altered spirit who’ll manifest soon in the deepest of night. Shadow essence of two-week visit encompasses my thoughts and sleep. If present, she’ll be safe. Who do you speak of, spirit? A man’s silhouette in the early morning as the streetlights gleam upon glistening muscle tone. The sun peeks as my roommate dreams, unconscious of his gaze. In the darkness, a gun rises in his hand, aims at roommate’s head. Silence takes over as the smoke aura scars her fate. Dream propels my slumber, and I go to her room. If I’m present, she’ll be safe repeats. Sunlight dances on my face as the night’s story whispers away. She awakens, “Had that dream again, didn’t you?” “Yes.” Three full moons calendar the sky. Gotham called for her home—She’s safe. Chitown childhood friends summer evening visit—Sunset Strip. Summer heat, sleep half nude as evening completes at midnight. Vocal and joyful friends jest of a man at the window where the drapes bellow. Amusement drains the night as the muscles gleaming silhouette appears. She runs into my bedroom, gun points at third eye—forced out of comfort into the lifeless living room. Essence extends my body as I guard the front door. “Think you’re going somewhere?” He shouts. Gun points for me to sit by piano. The silent melody piano bench where I abide. “On the floor,” he casts me as he bares my skin from sheet. Little sister weeps and window slams, fearing discovery of his carnal acts. Guilt survival mission defuses the present. Escaping—leap two steps—first landing. Leap again, gun at head. Blinding movie screen of my life flashes, steals my sight. Land on corner of step and propelled onto the ground. Not dying, not tonight! Street or parking lot?  A straight shot I will not be as I hide beside cars until I can jump a concrete fence that divides the building. Footsteps dissipate. Blood curdling screams echo in the distance. I climb many staircases and a man stands with two dogs. “Please call the police,” I beg. “I think my friend’s dead.” His girlfriend’s pink robe drapes a childhood fear. We hide. Police state, “Stay inside.”  Helicopter’s beaming lights—Treble sirens and watchful dogs ease chaotic street. An hour-and-a-half, a knock. Police state, “He escaped—assaulted another woman and stole her car.”  Friends approach in a cloud of disbelief, sobbing. They heard my fall, calling—No answer—Saw my death in his hands. Police, “He’ll return.” Neighbor held us safe, and we slept on her floor. My scarred friends left the next day. Never went back. He never paid. Warning from silhouette, but I didn’t understand. Premonition, and it’s real impact. Checking doors and windows for a year, but I know I saved my friends because—I was there.

Food

Reminiscing
Food stories that my family tells
About behavior
Don’t remember, age three or four

Learned to walk, learned to climb
Kitchen chair, telephone books
God forbid family would
Buy a step ladder to make my life easier

An old refrigerator (not old back then)
Lever—jump up and pull down
Sister wonders why fridge is ajar
Opens door—Surprise, it’s me!

Sitting on a shelf eating an apple
She grabs me, fights to get fruit
Tug of war ensues
She wants a chewed apple?

Stomping away (I had such an attitude)
Fruit in hand—I won
Sister retells story as family laughs
I am offended by their laughter

Rope around stove, fridge
Padlock on pantry? Chocks for candy!
Where’s the fruit?
Watch fire in stove—I love fireplaces

Upset, storm off to yellow vinyl 50’s sofa
Jump up and slide back down
Jump up again and again
Oh well, I’ll throw myself on floor

Crying because I’m a miffed child
Check to see if they’re watching
Mom comes over and hugs me
Sit on the big vinyl sofa—Finally!

Tomorrow

If I were to die tomorrow
Would I have organized my home
Would I have left my paperwork in order
Would I have made it easier for my family

If I were to die tomorrow
Would I have followed and completed my dreams
Would I have loved the way I wanted to love
Would I have visited the world like I wanted to

If I were to die tomorrow
Would I have told those that I loved that I love them
Would I have seen the beauty in my own life
Can I say that I lived my life to its fullest

If I were to die tomorrow
Would I have lived today
Would I have loved differently
Would I have felt my life was complete

If I would die tomorrow
A sadness would be there
To know I wasted so much time

If I were to die tomorrow
I would make the unknown
I’d face the unknown I was so afraid of
As I choose my life today with strength and joy

Many Blessings.

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Awakening Dreams – Inspire Me Raw

In celebration of poetry month. Poetic Resurrection will interview poets and links to previous poet interviews. In this episode, I will be discussing and reading a few poems from Inspire Me: Raw.

Inspire Me: Raw was recently re-edited and a compilation book of the first two Inspire Me books will be released this month with a preview of five poems from my upcoming book Inspire Me: Awakening Dreams. Enjoy!

Please check out the poetry section

Citizen poem was written several months before Hurricane Maria hit Puerto Rico. When this happened, I was surprised that many didn’t know Puerto Ricans are American Citizens. This poem explains how many Puerto Ricans feel.

Citizen

Curly red hair
Freckled skin
Speaking Spanish
Not fitting in

People’s bias
Perceptions
Ignorance
—Citizen

Where are you from?
How did you get here?
Was it a struggle?
No—Citizen

No boats
No tunnels
No hiding
Airplanes

I belong here
Born here
Educated
—Citizen

Forget was written about a woman who lived in the tenement where I grew up in Chicago. As a child, I would catch her crying in the hallway after her husband physically abused her.

Forget

Sometimes I can’t remember: often, actually
The times I run out and say nothing to you
The times I am angry and pretending to be  okay
The times I don’t come home at night

Sometimes I can’t remember: often, actually
When your anger lashes out at me
When you drink too often and hurt me
When you disappear into an aberrant abyss of time

Sometimes I do remember: often, actually
Your cruel words that hurt
Your desire to touch that repulses
Your anger at who you’ve become

I remember and choose to forget
Do you love? As those you love are hurt
Do you know the emergency room—a second home?
Do you understand—Inner scars show more than the ones I wear?

Sometimes I can’t remember: often, actually
The raising of happy children h
The life we thought was possible
The comfort of a safe, loving home

Sometimes I can’t remember: often, actually
How reality needs exposure
How I’ve always remembered
How lights slowly dim on you

Go-Go Boots is about being a ten-year-old child and wanting to be thin so she could wear the sixties fashions. They didn’t fit.

Go-Go Boots

At 10
Made a mistake
Told my teacher that I
Want to lose weight

First diet included
Liver, once a week—Yuk!
Different recipes, so nasty
That’s not what I was seeking

Stood in line for free lunch
Menu: peanut butter cookies
My favorite munchies
I wanted one—Damn!

“Hide one for me, please”
When teacher’s not looking
Don’t want to get teased fo
Failing program on first day

My mom states, “You’re only ten!
No reason for a diet
Wanting to be model thin
Groovy clothes—Buy them
Go-Go boots the stylish trend

Chubby clothes too short
Regular pants too long
Big kid bell-bottoms reach calves
Average size bells at ankles

Others smoke bongs
Skunk weed smell
Permeates halls
Hide don’t tell—jail fate in ‘68

What to do with weight
Insecurities begin
Entire life, same shit—wasted time
And now I’m fine