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I’ve walked the roads with drifters, sinners, lovers and misfits. I’ve cried with the beaten and struggled with the damned. The battles I listened about were ones I’ve never endured, but yet I felt their pain. In every single face I saw my own. I understood that the situations that felt so unimaginable to me could become my reality too. I’ve learned never to judge because when you do, funny things happen. You find yourself in your own version of their struggles. It’s in those moments that their behaviors make perfect sense. And you say to yourself, aah I thought I would handle this differently.

You walk paths and take journey’s meeting members of your tribe along the way. You share stories of youth, sing to the music, spend days passing time doing what’s required of you in order to survive. Just as you think things will never change or people will never leave they do. It doesn’t set in until a handful of those people are gone that you realize they were important in your life at one time. They’ve disappeared from your now, becoming your past, while continuing to be someone else’s present.
Tribes come together then drift apart but sometimes we’re lucky to have those chance encounters where we all meet up again. And when that happens, a part of us that was missing returns and we remember how good it once felt to be together.

Remember every choice has a consequence. You may kid yourself by convincing yourself that a bad choice feels right. The bad choices are the easiest ones to make. It’s the right choices that feels like work.

You can fool some people but there are others who will always know your true intentions. Often, they are the ones that keep quiet.

Don’t fool yourself, you are not fooling them.

Hey everyone, I started a new blog. This blog will be dedicated to my writing endeavors and the process of trying to have my first middle-grade novel published. I will keep this blog Moments and Memories seperate from my writing blog.
But, please feel free to stop by Writing Like Crazy and accompany me on my journey to publication.

Love,

Maribeth.

P.S. Wish me luck

Hello everyone. Have you missed my Friday’s Song? I have. Today I took a quiz to see what Dave Matthew’s song I would be and the result was Grey Street. I love the song and was pleasantly pleased. After listening to the lyrics more deeply I realized that yeah, this could have been me. But the difference is, I am happy with the life I have been given and do believe that someone hears my prayers and they listen.
Have a great Friday and enjoy listening to some Dave. He always sings to my soul.

Lyrics

Grey Street lyrics
Oh look at how she listens
She says nothing of what she thinks
She just goes stumbling through her memories
Staring out on to Grey Street.
She thinks, “Hey, how did I come to this?”
I dream myself a thousand times around the world
But I can’t get out of this place.
There’s an emptiness inside her
And she’ll do anything to fill it in
But all the colors mix together – to grey
And it breaks her heart
How she wishes it was different
She prays to God most every night
And though she swears it doesn’t listen
There’s still a hope in her it might
She says “I pray But they fall on deaf ears,
am I supposed to take it on myself?
To get out of this place? ”
There’s lonliness inside her
And she’ll do anything to fill it in
And though it’s red blood bleeding from her now
It feels like cold blue ice in her heart
When all the colors mix together – to grey
And it breaks her heart
There’s a stranger speaks outside her door
Says take what you can from your dreams
Make them as real as anything
It’d take the work out of courage
But she says “Please
There’s a crazy man that’s creeping outside my door,
I live on the corner of Grey Street
And the end of the world. ”
There’s an emptiness inside her
And she’ll do anyrthing to fill it in
And though it’s red blood bleeding from her now
It’s more like cold blue ice in her heart
She feels like kicking out all the windows
And setting fire to this life
She could change everything about her
Using colors bold and bright
But all the colors mix together – to grey
And it breaks her heart
It breaks her heart
To Grey

Reflections and Recollections stir in my mind
What I am searching for, I cannot seem to find

A day, a year, a second, they have all gone away
If only a thought could invite a memory to stay

I would dance longer, hug tighter and recognize
That everything worth loving meets its demise

Today wraps up Poetry month. I had fun writing poems but I will be the first to admit I have much more to learn when it comes to writing poetry. Still, I gave it my best shot. The prompt for the last day of poems over at Poetic Asides was Farewell.

To bid farewell to someone or something is not always easy and sometimes heartbreaking. Everything that lives must die. But everything that dies does not need to be forgotten.

Memento Mori

Chats on the backyard swing
Smoking under the train bridge
Sunday dinners at noon
Life is passing by

Laughing at an inside joke
Cookouts in the country
Walks along the railroad tracks
Days forever gone. Why?

Curfews and crazy days
Sitting on the front porch
Loving for the first time
Everything born must die

Farewell to all things loved
Cherished memories will remain
In my dreams, you all resurface
One day, together we will fly.

Never Give Up

Even when they tell you no
Even if you doubt you could
Even if you tried and failed
Believe, Hope, Trust you would

If you believe you can’t. You won’t.
If you believe you can. You will!
It may take a while but keep reaching
Learn a lesson then keep teaching.

Everyone dreams of something
Nobody wants to be nothing
Never give up and you will see
Yourself become what you were meant to be.

Happy Earth Day! I intended on posting this early this morning, but as usual the day went by too quick.
The older I get, the more I appreciate our Earth. When you are young, (at least when I was) you take the Earth for granted. If you live in an area filled with mountains (which I do) they eventually become invisible unless you make it a point for them not to. This is the sort of thing I have been making a conscious effort to not do lately. I want to take a moment to cherish the beauty in the mountains, breathe in a breath of fresh air, and marvel at the blue sky.
Appreciating our Earth on a daily basis will change the way you look at life. I recall my father saying “It’s good to be alive.” He loved a beautiful day and never let one pass without recognizing how lucky he was to see nature at its best.

Wake up. Take in the view. Open a window and enjoy what you have today because tomorrow it can be taken away.

I’m still writing Poems for the Poem a day at Poetic Asides. The premise for yesterday’s poem was an object. The Binky was the first thing that came to mind.

“Aah, how sweet,” was my first thought.
The blue binky was adorable, I loved it!
The baby is crying, where can it be?
Not under the couch, someone please help me!
I searched all over and then some more
The baby is screaming. I’m off to the store.

I will buy another, even though I have five.
Where have they all gone?
Where do they hide?
Here I am, with a brand new blue binky.

Wait, the baby is smiling, how could this be?
While I was gone, she found her missing binky.

April is poetry month. I am not a poet but I do like to dabble in poetry once in a while. The novice poet that I am thought that to have a good poem you must rhyme, but after seeing many poems, I realize that is completely wrong. A good poet conveys emotions through words and tells you a story without writing a book. I stumbled upon the Poetic Asides blog and noticed that for the month of April, they are encouraging poets and non poets to write a poem a day.
Each day, a prompt is given and you are to write a poem based on the prompt. I will share the one I wrote regarding something missing.
This is our first Easter without my father. It was actually this time last year that he let us know that he wasn’t feeling right. Last Easter we would have never guessed that within three months he would be gone. Tomorrow we will paint Easter Eggs with the kids as we always do on Good Friday. But this year my father won’t be sitting at the head of the table painting his famous egg.

The Egg

The colors are lovely but not as lovely as before
Sadness hides behind the delicate smiles.

The children excitedly paint their masterpieces
The energy of love lost encircles the room
One by one the eggs are placed inside the basket
Silence pours through, suddenly we are aware
The polka-dot egg is missing, his masterpiece
The basket is full but our hearts are empty