Read about Wayne Breckenridge III's devotion to chocolate milk, Meghan Griesbeck's interstellar trip, Jillian Law's message to single girls on Valentine's Day, Terry Slaughter's advice on civility, and the Take 5 writers' obsession with office products. You'll also enjoy the vivid colors in Sasha Jackson's photos, and the inviting summer images in Janet Higgins's pictures.
Look through the winter 2017 issue of MU Voices, and appreciate the perspectives and gifts of your Madonna community. And remember to comment on the ones you especially appreciate. A few kind words never hurt anybody.
muvoiceswinter2017
Wednesday, April 5, 2017
Monday, April 3, 2017
Delicate, by Vicki Khzouz
Few women are cursed by this thing.
Far fewer are damned
by its eternal sting.
The rare medley of us who are ill-fated
suffer from a heartache that is agonizingly serrated.
We are forced to live with
these jagged pains,
shackled by our condemning,
boundless chains.
The rare few of us
are gravely delicate.
Cautiously approach us with
empathy, but only if your intentions
are genuinely benevolent.
Because we are those who,
when we love,
we love with our whole heart.
So when we give,
We give.
Leaving nothing behind,
not a single spare part.
So when our heart is broken,
we are shattered.
Crippled by the forsaken wound, left helplessly open.
Many years may continue to succeed.
Yet, not a day passes when our hearts won't bleed.
We'll pretend that we're strong and prove we're moving forward
but every so often, our emotions get the best of us,
torment us
and make us feel cornered.
That's when we fall victim
to our fated restrictions
and we are raped
by our doomed afflictions.
So if you're one of the few to fall in love with us
and we fall for you
be certain your intentions are honorable before you continue to pursue.
Because we are infinitely fragile
and considerably susceptible to unravel.
Far fewer are damned
by its eternal sting.
The rare medley of us who are ill-fated
suffer from a heartache that is agonizingly serrated.
We are forced to live with
these jagged pains,
shackled by our condemning,
boundless chains.
The rare few of us
are gravely delicate.
Cautiously approach us with
empathy, but only if your intentions
are genuinely benevolent.
Because we are those who,
when we love,
we love with our whole heart.
So when we give,
We give.
Leaving nothing behind,
not a single spare part.
So when our heart is broken,
we are shattered.
Crippled by the forsaken wound, left helplessly open.
Many years may continue to succeed.
Yet, not a day passes when our hearts won't bleed.
We'll pretend that we're strong and prove we're moving forward
but every so often, our emotions get the best of us,
torment us
and make us feel cornered.
That's when we fall victim
to our fated restrictions
and we are raped
by our doomed afflictions.
So if you're one of the few to fall in love with us
and we fall for you
be certain your intentions are honorable before you continue to pursue.
Because we are infinitely fragile
and considerably susceptible to unravel.
Tuesday, March 21, 2017
A Conversation: Part 1, by Jillian Law
Hey, it’s okay
Take a deep breath
You’re going to be okay
I know it doesn’t feel like it right now
You’re tired, so tired
But you can’t sleep
The medicine will help with that, I promise
Don’t try to hide the pill under your tongue
That never works
Take another deep breath
You’re so lucky, my love
You are so loved
So valued
Don’t give up on the world now, my dear
It has a few surprises left for you
Make a list of things you love
Start with five (cats, your blue cozy sweater, the
smell of rain, dancing to Taylor Swift, the click of high heels when you walk)
Add more, keep adding them
Make it all the way to a hundred
You deserve all those things
One more deep breath, okay?
We got you back into school whenever you’re ready
No rush
I think it will be better this time
Your friends want to see you
They left you a cake with pink icing and (crooked)
green letters
That’s a Harry Potter thing, right?
You made me read those, remember?
Oh honey, what can I do?
Remembering, by Anonymous
Flute books with your markings
On the music that you taught.
Scrapbooks full of memories
Can be neither sold nor bought.
Your love for us is ever strong
Your laughter was contagious,
And none of us will soon forget
The joy your spirit gave us.
Daughter, Wife, and Mother
Best known as Grandma Sweetpea,
I’m thankful for the times we’ve
shared
And how you’ve loved me deeply.
I’ll miss you when your birthday
comes
And you’re not there to call
But on that day your family here
Your life we will recall.
Civility, by Terry Slaughter
Of
note,
Civility
is a thing unto
itself
to be cherished
Like
Grandma’s old stories
You
will understand, But,
only
later.
It
must be loved,
Nurtured,
Dressed,
washed, fed,
Or
it will grow legs and
Walk out
Or
wings
And fly away.
It
does not need us We need it.
Lest
we douse ourselves
in
gas And
set
ourselves,
And
everything around
us,
to flame.
Then,
only the memory will remain.
Civility….
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)