Life and death in the same inhale of breath. Oh, how we praise its beauty; vibrant and sweet. Yet, when it shrivels and dies, it reminds us of our mothers. We thought nothing could ever touch her, she’ll live forever. Now a cold tombstone and a bouquet of flowers are all we can offer. Hold fast the memories of all she was, but know, all things go back from whence they come.

©privatethoughtsmadepublic. 2020.

Moldy Old Books

They get tossed aside when they are of no more use. Doesn’t matter the treasure inside. Who needs to re-learn what they already know?

Though the pages turned a brownish yellow, the spine remains in tact; the last to go.

But oh, these new and fancy books are are flashy but of no substance. Their flimsy colorful covers arrest your attention until you peel back the pages, only to find it blank.

No ink; nothing lived; blind; null and void. What does your book say about you?

©privatethoughtsmadepublic. 2020.

Time has been nothing more than to be passed. Remember when the minutes ticked away so slowly? When morning lasted forever and night felt as if it’d never come? Now, I can’t seem to get my bearings nor can a thought stick. I forget far more than I should. I tire trying to solve another’s problem. I’m exhausted. Work consumes my life. That’s all there is. Still, I long to stop, not pause. When was the last time I’ve enjoyed the day? Why can’t I just let the suffering suffer?

I don’t have many loves. But, I do have dreams. Why must they all include people? I haven’t discovered the wonder and joy of picking a vine ripened tomato from a garden that doesn’t exist.

I’m restless. Tiers of calamity and negligence assualt me daily. Sometimes I think it’s far better to do evil; it prospers. Any and all good results in erasure or is swept under the rug.

I feel defeated. Numb. Auto-pilot takes over and I end up in a room. If only I could disappear, cut all communication and live in the middle of nowhere, would it result in peace or happiness? Am I wanting to flee the dragon that’s setting things ablaze? How much more do I have to fight and is it even worth it?

Presence #WritePhoto

Here’s Sue’s latest…Presence


Daisy knew she and I were like night and day. City girl loved her amenities and a country boy like me liked things simple. I bought this land in the middle of Missouri.

She hated it. The nearest store was ten miles away and she cried every night for the first year of our marriage. Then we started having kids. Two boys and a girl. Oh how she’d light up when they ran giggling through the meadow.

Daisy fell ill on her 50th birthday… Since she’s been gone, I’ve marked her absence with large stones. I’d like to believe she’s still there in the meadow waiting beneath a stone all my own.

©privatethoughtsmadepublic. 2020.

Lab Rats #Write Photo

Here’s Sue’s latest post, Fume. Guess it’s time to flex my severely underused chops.

It was too late, they’d been discovered. Freedom was underneath their feet but, the light was gaining on them. They thought they’d planned accordingly, their escape from the school for the gifted. Experimental meat was what they were reduced to. Sliced, chopped, discarded and on to the next victim. Some couldn’t help but wonder if their escape was just another test; a survival of the fittest. The light was there–not their saviors, but invisible stalkers who can taste their fear.

©privatethoughtsmadepublic. 2020.

Where am I in life? A murky place. I’m caught between the present and the future. For the past, I don’t know, six months, I’ve been flailing, fighting to pull myself out of bed to work another day. Today marks the day I’ve failed to do so. I can’t begin to express how drained I feel. I look around and see or at least the perception is I’m not moving forward, though it isn’t true.  I am moving along and a promotion is in the works. I don’t care, not one bit.

Recently, I’ve visited a clinic for women’s exams and a few weeks ago, I was at the dental office. Here is what put the perspective of my health crystal clear to me. At my exam, I had elevated blood pressure but two weeks later, while I was on vacation and my BP was 123/76. My job is trying to kill me! While I was on vacation, I did things I enjoy and I got some rest. My health was under control because I wasn’t at work. I didn’t have multiple tasks or the weight of trying to manage co-workers on my shoulders.

I’ve never been good at dealing with stupid, it makes my blood boil. Nor do I approve of people not pulling their weight, thus making others work 2x harder. No matter how much we try to correct bad behavior, nothing changes. I’m quite certain I didn’t sign up to work at an adult daycare center.

I have co-workers who really don’t understand the concept of working in upper management. To be blunt, it’s responsibility coupled with crappy pay.  So, here’s the thing, I’m taking my physician’s words to heart. If I were to die tomorrow, my position can and will be filled in no time, so why should I keep depleting myself to the point of exhaustion just to keep a company from capsizing?

No individual is made for that kind of undertaking. So, here I am at home because I could get myself out of bed to deal with another day of work. At the end of this year, it’ll be three years I’ve been employed there and I used to pride myself on my missing work. But, more of it is in the future. I don’t know how much I have left in the tank, especially with a promotion in the works.

But, I’ll tell you what makes me happy and what I’m anticipating for the near future. I enjoy baking. I’ve been in the kitchen for more than half my life, yet, as of this past Wednesday, I was in the kitchen in the evening decorating a cake. I was tired. It was the kind of happy tired that I’d accomplished something with my own two hands and it was something that wanted to do. Hopefully, that made sense. As for the future, apartment life is going by the wayside. For the last three years, suddenly, I’ve wanted to start a garden. I remember leaving with a family friend to Arkansas; I was a kid at the time. \

Once we made it to the person’s house we were visiting, I noticed that the had a garden outback. Imagine that! Living in the city, I’d never seen anything like that and even now, people are way too obsessed with manicured lawns. It’s amazing how you see something as a child and decades later the interest resurfaces. The older I get, I just want to settle somewhere quiet, build a garden, perhaps an orchard if I can scout enough land to do so. If I can cut out the need for visiting a grocery store, then I’m all for putting in the hard work to build a better and more sustainable lifestyle.

I know I have further research to do. I don’t want to work another nine to five after this job ends. I want to be a business and landowner. How all this will happen, I have no clue, but people before me have done it so it isn’t impossible. So, this is where I am, caught between the present and future and I’m very optimist over what’s waiting for me on the other side.

What Lies Beyond #writephoto

Sue’s #writephoto

Her last morning has been reduced to this…she cracked and snapped under the currents of life. Perfection is a wasteland of sweet lies. When the cold and death sets in, we all realize in that hollow moment, we were meant to fade away like the setting of the sun.

Copyright ©privatethoughtsmadepublic. 2019.


into the blue

where forgotten

thoughts linger…

in the embrace

of the mother

you never knew…

and in front

of a mirror, your

youth has faded

each day…

fine lines, grey hair

and the twinkle

in your eyes–

remember when that

was all you needed

to make her smile?

Copyright ©privatethoughtsmadepublic. 2019.

I miss the sweet smell of fresh cut grass. The way my mother brushed my hair-she always knew how to get every strand perfect. I miss how my father was never around, even at “Bring Your Parent’s to School” day. Now, he’s present and such the burden. I have to be an adult about everything, even when he lies. I miss my list of ‘first times’, many I can’t remember. The few I can recall scared me to the point my heart raced, palms became slick with sweat and any confidence I had was replaced with stuttering words. Somehow, I didn’t fully appreciate those moments. Every now and again I miss my former personal struggles, it let me know I was alive, that I was going somewhere even if I hadn’t a clue if I was able to take the next step. Now, I’m not sure where I am. I just want out…into something fulfilling. Along the way I stopped learning about myself. But, I can admit this: I’m angry, frustrated and exhausted.

©privatethoughtsmadepublic. 2019.


..and now I know how alone I am on my knees wailing in the dark. Even my deafening cries reverberates back, scaring me witless. I almost don’t recognize myself.

©privatethoughtsmadepublic. 2019.

Among billions, I realize I’ll die before he finds me. Love is a mystery I’ll never get to unfold.

©privatethoughtsmadepublic. 2019.

Old man and gin

a pair of dirty socks

cyclical golden memories

packed away in a shoebox.

His suits from the cleaners

are all wrinkled, tossed in a 

pile in a corner, never touched

since she flew away.

Conversation by the stove

lost in her distant eyes

he burns the eggs

then slams the pan in the sink.

Trips up the stairs

fighting fear and trembling lips

white sheet pulled up to his chin

then it starts all over again.

©privatethoughtsmadepublic. 2019.



Journal #: Fragmented Thoughts

  • So much as happened since I’ve last posted, yet, none of the experiences are worth writing about. Have you ever remembered something in your sleep you want to do? I have. Now,  it’s all I dream and anticipate over. Moving out of this apartment and into a house to start a fruit and veggie garden. I want raised beds and less trips to the grocery store. I prefer zero wax covering my food. And don’t you think people, especially children are so hungry is because nutrients are missing from food these days?
  • I took a shower this morning. It was the best shower ever. It’s interesting when one gets older, we accidentally happen upon new spots, skin tags and chin hair that seems to have appeared overnight. Stretch marks are normal. I have a few and I look them over real good. When I get out of the shower, I lean into the mirror and a dry patch is flaking just below my left eye. My sensitive skin likes a moderate 66 degree temperature. It’s amazing, my skin is finicky like me.
  • It’s rained on and off for the last two weeks. Gloomy weather makes me sleepy and tired. I struggled to make my shift. In the midst of all that, I felt all would be alright. It was nice to be in a moment of peace. A warm bed and a cup of tea…I slept like a baby.
  • How to describe my job? It’s easy, repetitive, but easy. The people, not so much. I’m convinced I’m living in a version of the Twilight Zone or a highly disturbing Hitchcock film. My job is what I refer to as an adult daycare. Who ever head of chasing down an employee to do his or her job? How about all the reasons why they shouldn’t steal or con their fellow co-workers out of money? These are people with documents stating they have a “disability”. I tend to disagree. If one has the mental capacity to con and lie, they are “functioning” just fine. The stories I could tell you. Some are truly hilarious while some leave you shaking your head.
  • At some point, relationships get difficult, stressful. I don’t believe dating and marriage is in the cards for me. Why? I’m too impatient and I don’t handle stupid well, especially when it’s that time of the month. I get Hulk angry. Sometimes I cry hot tears. Now, I’m not unreasonable, I can compromise but, “no and not gonna happen” come to mind when I’m asked to so something for someone. Yet, I smile and say, “sure.” I don’t like yes men or one who lays prostrate and allows me to walk over their spine. Not that I’ve ever done that. I have a guy at work who has it in his head that we are going to be a couple. He’s pushing 60 and I’m 35. Age generally isn’t a factor but when I shoot him down time after time, how can he get back up like their aren’t holes in his chest? I’m at a point in my life where I honestly don’t care about people’s feelings. After helping and giving, being stepped on, taken for granted, lending an ear heart and shoulder, I’m burnt out. I say what I want whether folk like it or not. Is there any other way to be? There’s a freedom in dumping other people’s problems back on them. I’m no god and I’m not God. I can’t fix people and I think that’s what they want. They want the end result without pain and sacrifice. Pain doesn’t magically go away, there is a process.

“We all go a little mad.”

Psycho, 1960.

It was a cold one

watching him push her on the swing.

Everything seemed to bow

before her,

even the Weeping Willow.

How had his spine become so


Was it the pink space between

her legs,

or the way she smiled;

perfect white teeth…

She must be a sport

Ivorymen kill for.



I am an indigenous flower that

grow in the harshest of places.

Scorching sun, frigid nights

sand and wind seek to tear me apart.

I go unnoticed until a cure is sought.

I’ve been here all along

but was pushed to the back of the


for something palatable.

He shied away from bitter

licorice when I was the answer.

I didn’t taste good going


but he’s breathing.



©privatethoughtsmadepublic. 2019.

#no way, jose

I know him like the back of my hand. Weekend benders lead to a week of absence. But, when he returns, he says, “darling, you bring sunshine to my life.” I aim not to. In fact, I try to avoid him at all cost but, he tracks me down and corners me for a free ride. I know what’s next, he apprehensivly professes his love for me. I’m quite good at poker face and silence. I can’t care much, this lower back pain has nagged me for years and surprisingly, it’s shifted from the right to the left. I can live with the pain but not a sixty something who thinks he’s still a spring chicken. No sex is better than old sex. The new wave of abstinence has arrived.

©privatethoughtsmadepublic. 2019.

A Monster of a Cookie

It was easy for him to take another

never thought he had to shoulder her burden

or consider the look in her eyes

for he had a winning prize.

New skin to fondle

to soap in a hot and steamy shower

she made him feel what he once felt

a burning and yearning below the belt.

So much so, she left him a fever

no one could cure

no drug had been invented yet

to cool and calm the burning crawling up his neck.

A mild cough, then came the chills

he thought it a fervent love she left him with for the day

the I miss you blues

but she never left a clue.

The 24 hour love bug was never this bad, not even with the one he kept in the dark.

He pressed through work then went home

to a hot meal and a cool glare

then he noticed her hair.

This was how she looked on their wedding day

soft deep waves only a surfer could navigate

she held up her set of house keys and tossed them at his feet

then proclaimed that that was the last meal he’d ever eat.

He isn’t angry that she’s leaving him

he has needs she can no longer meet

but, his brows begin to trickle sweat

when he looks after her, a man stands at his Chevy, a military vet.

When had his sweet wife stepped out on him

when had she become a whore?

And curse his flaming mind

and no rest he will find.

If she’d done all the kinky things he wanted, he wouldn’t have left

this was her fault, the breakdown of their marriage

she should have submitted to his fun and games

now he’s in all this pain.

With blurry vision he was beginning to see that this pain wasn’t love

it was too unbearable and his blood ran too hot

it has to be a disease, a terrifying one that works less than a day

if he made it to the hospital, what could he say?

That he met a woman and it was a one night stand

and she left him something to remember her by that the CDC’s never heard of?

will he be quarantined or will his eyes melt from their sockets

when he goes to the restroom, will he shoot off like a rocket?

He’ll be the laughing stock of modern day medicine

“he couldn’t keep it in his pants,” they’ll say

he’ll give them something new to study that HELA’s immortal cells couldn’t overtake

an unrepentant mind, a selfish soul, even if cured, he’d still devour cookies unbaked.

©privatethoughtsmadepublic. 2019.

Diner Blues

I left it all behind, friends, family, career, expectations and ended up here at and off road diner. The walls are bright white, the tiled floor, polished. The wooden counter houses dents and scratches. Obelisk glass jars sit at each end of the counter for tips, makes me think of sorcery. They’re there for more than just a testament to something. Perhaps, a portal to another dimension. I’m the only customer here. Hot chocolate dances over my tongue then slides down my throat as the young waitress leans over the counter chewing her gum like a cow chews cud. She watches me and blows a bubble that covers her nose nd chin. It pops and she picks it from her face then stuffs it back in her mouth. I continue sipping my drink as light taps of rain streaks the window. It was an easy choice, leaving. The high life cost too much, much like wristlet, ankle bracelets, and chokers. I shouldn’t have listened to my mother when she pushed for my marriage to the president of some prestigious company. He was quite the actor. Behind closes doors, he thought he owned me, controlled me. I got myself shackled to the Lucas name and the only way out was to disappear. I was at peace in the middle of nowhere until lights beamed down, sweeping over the diner. Now would be a good time for thise obelisks to activate and warp me to another place. One where I can’t be found. Then the waitress shouts over at me with a sly grin, “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

©privatethoughtsmadepublic. 2019.

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