Eight Legged Evil – a poem.

Eight Legged Evil

They weave through time like

Natures undaunted soldiers

whose webs keeps forming


How to Write a Haiku in English Form

A haiku for this week’s Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge of WEAVE and Web.

Haiku Challenge


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© 2021-  Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

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Tender Mercies – a poem.

Tender Mercies

Who needs the tender

mercies of the universe

heal without judgement


How to Write a Haiku in English Form

A haiku for this week’s Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge of TENDER and Who.

Haiku Challenge


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© 2021-  Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

Fated End- a poem.

Fated End

heed death’s rapid reach

by a dark sense of ennui

the fated plunge nears


How to Write a Haiku in English Form

A haiku for this week’s Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge of PLUNGE and Rapid..

Haiku Challenge


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© 2021-  Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.

Losing it. What do I do?

There’s a saying that goes something like, “You don’t know what you got till it’s gone.” For about two years I’ve kind of laughed at that phrase. For some of us, when something is gone we don’t even know what it was which means we don’t miss it.

I’ve been fine with it. I go through each day with a new loss flittering away and I feel fine. That’s because I don’t know what flitters away. Okay, so I know something is likely being lost. I’m aware that memories are lost.

Normally I don’t stress about it because stressing leads to other problems. Recently a memory loss, a huge one, became evident—with vigor.

I’ll explain an “other” problem for a moment. Depression. Well, I don’t know that it really needs to be explained. We all know what depression is. When a memory goes away and I then have people forcing that memory back in my head, or trying to get it back in there, things happen. The brain snaps. I actually at some point feel a pop in my head. I am sure it’s not really anything physical, only a psychological representation of what is happening.

When that happens, Ronovan is gone for a time.

My huge memory loss recently led to such a situation. I would think things were going fine, then wham, another hit from a different side. Lulled into things being okay. Wham, another hit. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat.

Now, here I am, depressed, physically ill, and looking for the learning lesson of it all.

Memory problems make for a bad emotional entity. They also make for a bad relationship of any type. You wake up and you don’t know if that person who is your friend, spouse, significant other, father figure is still going to be that for you.

Who is it fair to in that situation? As I’ve been writing this I’ve been sorting through it all. I suppose the best thing is if it’s a repeat offender status thing, cut and run if the situation allows for it. I know live in family members can’t do that but there are things you can do.

Accept the memory loss person (MLP) for who they are, knowing what is possible.

Be supportive in the efforts of the MLP to handle it. Think for a moment about this. You wake up, or are even going along writing or watching a video and then—WHAM—you don’t know what day it is, or what city you are in, or who that person in the other room is. Ever wonder how a person handles that each day?

Think about being in the middle of a sentence and forgetting who it is across the table from you. In this age of internet and digital conversations and friendships it’s even more difficult to remember without those constant physical/visual cues.

People might find it surprising that I wake up and have forgotten the people in my house. Or I will go through one of those situations above. My body goes through a routine each morning and I discover what my problems are and I just go with it. I’ve told myself in letters not to stress, that I am normal. This is normal for me. I tell myself to begin to write something from a list of projects I’m working on.

Sometimes memories will come back or at least enough of a familiarity to make things fine or functionable. Yeah, another of my made up words.

What about the other person, the person forgotten?

What would I do if I were on the other end of this?

I honestly can’t answer that with an all encompassing solution. I think patience is part of it, understanding, and you know maybe even just cut and run. I know people balk at that last one but it is an option. But that is the option people will focus on here because it is seen as the uncaring, cold idea and how could I even think of telling someone to do that if a person cared about the MLP or of the MLP cares about the person.

I’ve been living with this for two years. You get to the point, where after having written about it, thought about it, and lived through it, you cut through it all to the heart or heartless of it all and give solutions.

And what about the MLP? Should they keep trying to remember, opening themselves up to an emotional tug-of-war to then either go through the loss again, perhaps not knowing it, or then being shut off once a connection is established again?

What do I do?

I have no one answer for myself. Perhaps I should, it would make my life easier. Can a person live a life, a healthy life mentally without people? I suppose they can but I’m not that far gone yet.

Now, for those who look at my writing and things I share each day and think I seem normal and I have all these friendships and all, the MLP has tricks they use to get by. Don’t call out the MLP for this if you still want to be a part of their life. At least they are trying.

I’ll tell you one trick I have. It’s called the Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge. No, that’s not a plug for my challenge. I am telling you about a trick. There are people who do the challenge every week, and that means I read their work, usually at least twice, think about it, review it, see their names, and all of that every week. It doesn’t work for each person because of lack of regularity but when I see the name I know it’s familiar and once I get to their site things come back.

MLPs have sensory/emotional impressions of people if not actual memories. I know by a name, if it has been around me long enough, if that person is someone that is positive for me or negative, if that person is a friend or foe, if that person is emotionally good for me or a life drain.

When you hear that old saying about first impressions, it’s true. Make a good first impression and good last impression as well. You are asking, “How do I know when that last impression will be?” Whenever you leave the communication presence of someone, that’s your last impression until the next time you connect with them.

Well, this has been a longer message than I had planned, and I’m not sure if it is even what I had intended, but it is what it is and that’s all that it is. So, as I have just now read back through it, you might find it surprising I forgot about half of what I wrote while I was writing this. But again, it is what it is. I’m not to blame, you are not to blame, there is no blame.

Oh, I just remembered why I was writing this. Seriously. That big recent memory loss I had, like a mind wipe almost, took some important people away and broke things. Hmm, never mind. You know, I’ve tried. I think I will just deal with the depression of it all, come out the other side, and say I am what I am. It’s all I can be. Even if I don’t like it, I have to accept it or wind up on the 6 o’clock news.

 

Much Respect

Ronovan

© Copyright-All rights reserved by ronovanwrites.wordpress.com 2015

America is Burning.

America burns every few months, while smoldering in between. Depending on who you listen to the fault, the blame, will lay at the feet of police, government, black people, white people, poor people, gangs, the President, or the media.

Who is to blame for America burning?

The answer is very simple. Everyone. If each of us acted as Jesus, as Christ taught we wouldn’t be in this situation.

I skirt the issues at times. I don’t like to be confrontational. Beating a person over the head with something always seems rather a poor solution. Once unconscious, the fellow won’t be able to hear what you have to say.

Stand back a little so as I flail a bit I won’t do any harm and you are able to hear all of what I have to say today.

America and every nation needs God. I don’t mean the structures man has put in place, the traditions, the people in power to worship. I mean the almighty Himself, in our hearts, in our lives, in our actions.

If you are new to the  blog, I am not into church traditions that have been made into facts of Jesus. There are a lot of those. And there have been a lot of them from the very beginning.

I often speak on Sundays about how if we took the teachings of Jesus and followed them, how much better things would be. Even for people not believing in God those teachings are important and very good guidance.

There is so much TALKING about the situation and less about DOING about it. We’re told we have great plans to make things better. Plans are good intentions unless enacted. As Christ is the answer to our problems, there is a road to Hell paved with dusty and cobwebbed good intentions.

One race. One people. One family. Believing that, I have a difficult time agreeing with the harming of people. I even have a hard time with the death penalty. There is no eye for an eye. God will sort out the guilty. Yes, trials. Yes, justice. Yes prison. In reality, put certain people in prison for life, they won’t last long. Some will need to remain in solitary confinement for the remainder of their body’s existence. I don’t say their life, because they don’t have one any longer. While others, well, they just won’t live very long.

Back to my original thoughts. Parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents, brothers, sisters, friends, teachers, you name it, step up and be forces of positivity in each others lives. You see one drifting, snatch them back in place. Not your business? Is their ending up in prison or worse because it wasn’t your business something you can live with?

Like a mother who saw her son in the riots of Baltimore and snatched him up, snatch up those you care about.

So what do I think about the police issues? I think some have been absolute tragedies that were police issues. I think some could have been avoided if any person, regardless of skin tone, had acted properly. I think some were things that have happened and then other people have taken it and made something more of it than it was.

In other words, there is no one sided answer to it all. The President said something in a press conference on Tuesday that I agree with. This is nothing new. The new part is with so many eyes watching and able to watch, record and share, it has been put out in front of the nation more readily. Those are my words but the gist of his message.

The only ones at fault are those involved in the acts. I am not a policeman, nor have I been on the other side of a situation. I can’t say what I would do if faced with a threat in either position. Would I shoot, hit, defend myself as a police officer if I felt my life was in jeopardy? If I were a civilian, how would I react depending on what I had or had not done? Would I panic? Would I cooperate entirely?

You know, I saw a video recently where a man was being restrained by several policemen. He was a large man. News agencies reported he had been beaten with a night stick type of object, or struck with one. They showed a video and said things like “Hear that? That’s him being hit.” It made me angry. The policeman had one of those clubs that telescope when you sling your arm out and it clicks into position. It was obvious watching the video that is what had happened, and he had not struck anyone.

I didn’t see a big deal made out of this incident so much. Perhaps people saw through the attempts of the media. And yes, this was a media attempt. Not all of them are.

I don’t see race. I see humans. People. Skin tones and variances in features. People reading this are likely not to believe that, but it’s true. You see, I believe what the Bible says. Adam and Eve. Two people began us all. To me that means one human race of people. Do I get concerned when around a young black man? At times. Do I get concerned when around a young white man? At times. It all depends on the situation and if I get vibes of something not being quite right.

The Harvard or Yale graduate, I can’t remember which, that played chess with my son at church is a great guy. He was in charge of our Vacation Bible School last year. His wife is nice as well and highly educated also. He’s quite dark skinned, and she’s about as white as I am. It doesn’t matter.

I challenge everyone to begin writing messages about humans and what humans do for each other.

As there is a 1000 Voices Speaking for Compassion there should be a 1,000,000 Voices Shouting For Unity for Humanity.

I don’t think small. Although I could have said one billion. Still might change that up there.

Well, I don’t really know where or how to end this today. I simply wanted to, needed to speak and share. Like it or not it is what it is. Some will say we don’t need Christ or God, we can all just be good people. In America, as God has been pushed out of more and more areas of society, society has moved more and more into a mess.

Much Respect

Ronovan

Romans 1:16

© Copyright-All rights reserved by ronovanwrites.wordpress.com 2015

Pain from the Ignorant

Pain from the Ignorant

Cover _Red

 

I don’t care about government

I don’t care about race

All we’ve done since we’ve been here

Is corrupt the whole freakin’ place

 

I say let’s erase all the borders

Forget the religious rift

But it’ll never work–know why

Because God created peace and man destroyed it

 

I don’t know the story

Our facts are far from complete

But why can’t we all agree

To not kill each other and our babies in the street

 

Oh, don’t blame your neighbor

So what if they look like the bad guys

Their grandparents built the store

Where you eat your yummy to die for fries

 

But you say they’re the same people

Okay, so what do you mean

Have you noticed my bigoted brother

Every culture has some whacked out extreme

 

Talk to one another

You’ll be somewhat surprised

That not to deep down

We’re all the same . . . just in disguise

 

 

 

2014 © Copyright-All rights reserved-RonovanWrites.wordpress.com

Half fabricated Nonfiction-A Poem

Half fabricated Nonfiction

by: Ronovan

Black and White Money Flag

What’s my thoughts on the political debates?

Sit right back while your time I confiscates.

You have the pros over here and the cons over there.

Depending on your side depends which you think is fair.

 

There are the facts that we all know about.

But they are the facts that others put out.

You want this view then go to that site.

You want another well you got another for a sound bite.

 

Here is my take on the whole situation.

I hope it don’t start your heart into palpitation.

In my honest opinion and as you know I have no other.

I think the whole thing is just a big old great mother.

 

I don’t know jack about which side is right.

Because neither side gives up the truth to our sight.

Give me half lie and I’ll find you a half truth.

Let them open their mouth and I’ll show you the serpent tooth.

 

What side do you want to win in this here contradiction.

The one for or against in this hell-bent half fabricated presented nonfiction.

I tell you what to do and then you can tell me to go blow.

Because you all know that no matter what I say you already know what you know.

 

You take what you believe and vote on what you like.

Then when your rep gets elected they’ll tell you to take a hike.

It’s over and done with now that you got them in office.

You should have taken history as a sign an auspice.

They got their lifetime payment plan in the bank.

Now they just roll with whatever their donors put in their sugar tank.

Sounds all kind of like there isn’t much we can do.

Let me tell you the fact is that the sounds is just that—true.

 

Politics is a root of all kinds of evil portent.

They say it is money but let me tell you they both lead to discontent.

You see if we all did what we should be doing.

We would all be together refreshed and renewing.

 

You do yours and I’ll do mine is what some people say.

But what happens when yours seems to be treading on my way.

We hear the yelling and shouting and the screaming and stewing.

But all it comes to is a lot of name calling and political screwing.

 

Don’t ask me to support something I am against.

I won’t ask you the same if an issue of yours is dispensed.

Whoever comes out on top is the way it will be.

Until the next tomorrow when everyone will disagree.

 

Now that I’ve ranted and you have wanted away.

I’ll end with this bit of mindless attempt at something to say.

Whatever anyone votes and decides is in a runoff.

Just go ahead and put it where it belongs . . . in the hog trough.

 

Snake on table

 

 

 

 

© Copyright-All rights reserved-RonovanWrites.wordpress.com-July 02, 2014.

My Own Heart’s Irritation

My Own Heart’s Irritation

by: Ronovan

My heart strings are a weapon

Used secretly in stealth

They cause confusion and destruction

And deranged mental health

You look at all the forensics

You say there’s no crime

This ain’t no OJ

There’s no fix in this time

piccerella man peeking

 You spend just a moment

Just to catch a breath

Those strings get to tuggin’

Causing a cerebral death

Stop just a second wait

It’s all that is needed

But no oh no

The words fall as they’re pleaded

gettyimages © Original Photo by PhotoAlto/Alix Minde / PhotoAlto Agency RF Collections

 Extra Extra read all about it

The explosion has come

Yeah the heart strings

I’ve been hamstrung

Why so surprised by that comment

Who did you think was the victim in this situation

What body could be harmed

By my own hearts irritation

 

gettyimages © Original Photo by RUNSTUDIO

 

 

 

 

First Image Credit: gettyimages © Original Photo by piccerella

Second Image Credit: gettyimages © Original Photo by PhotoAlto/Alix Minde / PhotoAlto Agency RF Collections

Third Image Credit: gettyimages © Original Photo by RUNSTUDIO

Copyright-All rights reserved-©RonovanWrites.wordpress.com-June 11, 2014.

The Howl of the Consonant Vowels-The Block of Writers

The Howl of the Consonant Vowels-The Block of Writers

By: Ronovan

 Scrablle Tiles

It is said

If one continues to write each day

That eventually

One will have something to say

 

Here I am

To put death to that expression

Within these joined letters

You will hear my confession

 

The timelessness of a consonant vowel

Brings to mind the freakish nighttime mindless howl

Thinking of letters rhymes and reasons

Makes me shiver and sweat regardless of seasons

 

Look at a page of white blank expanses

They laughingly glare at you in pixelated glances

Write on the thoughts demand of the fingers

Digits deliver a message with meaning of one that lingers

 

The block it tackles the image to the ground

Blasting voiced anguish of creation in sound

Stomping bipedal movements don’t relieve

Movements of joints doesn’t bring one to conceive

 

Atmospheric changes dim to a glaring

No doubt these differences is meant for sharing

You pick up a nib to the flat pulp of the earth

Not a single scribbled jot denies you that’s of worth

 

Give up and don’t waste or delay

There really isn’t all that much you can say

Once the images have flittered away

Just kick back with a pint of ice cream and call it a day

 

© Copyright-All rights reserved-RonovanWrites.wordpress.com-June 12, 2014.