O! God Now Come on the Earth

lightening, mankind, turmoil, strife, hatred, blog, poetry, emotionsvia Mere Jazbaat
Author: Syed Sabah ur Rehman

 

Understanding Today’s world is Arduous Task,

Like Filling water in the Broken Flask.

What were we and what we are,

All emotional Relations are Shifting Far.

 

Sentiments & sacrifices are mere words

They seem to be as we have Never heard

God has created us to survive,

but we are vandalising each other’s lives

 

who shed Tears is indeed the faulter,

as,it is nothing but just salted water.

Ecstasy is Altering in to Embarrassment,

No flower can Bloom in venomous Environment.

 

O! God now please stop taking our test,

come on the earth and abolish the tempest.

Original Poem entitled: O! GOD NOW COME ON THE EARTH © MereJazbaat.com, and Syed Sabah ur Rehman aka AATIF, 2016-2018 All rights reserved.
Republished with permission.
O! God Now Come on the Earth post © Memee’s Musings, and B.L. Memee 2017-2019. All rights reserved.
The wonderful photograph was taken by Emil Jarfelt and acquired through Unsplash. It’s a great source for free photos under the Creative Commons Zero license, so check it out!

Escalation – Love Dies.

Escalation - Love Dies. | Memee's Musings
Photo by Kumar’s Edit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

 

I wrote before of my friends, we’ll call them Joe and Barb. They were married in May of 2000. He was 30. She was 24. I don’t have to do the math for you. It’s been a long marriage and moderately successful. Long story short, she became very controlling of him, dictatorially so. She grew cold within first five years of marriage and turned their life into a business arrangement. And she cut him off from friends and outside influences.  Then she became verbally abusive.  He finally got fed up and manned-up and told her to get into counselling or he was leaving. If he were a woman we would all be cheering him on for finally taking control of his life, and being proactive for his own happiness. And it is for that reason I must say I am proud of him. A broken marriage that is not fixable, cripples a person. And he is splintered everywhere.

Tonight was hard for me. I cried for him. And I am so very furious with her. Today she went too far and passed the brink of repairing the relationship.

Let me back up. I saw them just a bit over a week ago, 9 days ago, I believe. You see I recently moved myself back to Washington, but needed Joe’s help tightening the belts on my car so I could make it safely and without loud squealing noises following me everywhere. Also, we needed to have our goodbyes. I had a very nice time visiting with her while he repaired my car and added fluids. She had her first glass of wine (I didn’t imbibe that night.) She tried to talk to me about their problems, but I told her that it made me uncomfortable and that I didn’t want to be giving advice. I just wanted them both to be happy (in whatever life had in store). That I was his friend and it just didn’t feel right to me having her try to confide in me. She respected my speaking up and telling her so. She told me of the things she was doing to improve herself. And it sounded like she was finally getting it. It sounded like her counselling was actually making a difference and she was willing to accept and take responsibility for her controlling and verbally abusive behavior.

She was probably on her second glass of wine when dinner was served.  I don’t know; I wasn’t counting.  They have red wine every night. Because I wasn’t drinking I observed them in a way I hadn’t before. Right there at the dinner table things started going south. I’m not sure how or why but the mood changed from fun to uncomfortable to painful. At one point I suggested I go. They both said no, I should stay. And so I stayed. And I watched as their behavior toward one another changed. It was hard. She tries to keep up with him glass for glass. But she doesn’t metabolise the wine like he does. She would say things to him that weren’t necessarily meant to be hurtful, but would come across that way. I would try and keep things from going that way, saying, “I think what she is trying to say is…” I just wanted it to stop escalating. But I couldn’t stop her. I told her that he heard her. That he understands what she is trying to say. But by that point she was too drunk to keep herself in check. And as her words become more critical, more biting, and more hurtful I became increasing uncomfortable.  I felt helpless to the trainwreck I could see coming.  He never raised his voice or lost his calm.  He didn’t snap back at her or return cruel jabs.  He squirmed in his seat with discomfort as he tried to talk her down, reason with her.  Eventually, he excused himself. He gave me a hug goodbye, and I could feel him trembling in my arms as he whispered to me, “That was bad.” All I could do was say, “I know. I’m sorry.” I don’t think I’ll ever forget that moment. He went to shower and secure himself in the guest room. She walked me to the car.

At the car she totally lost it emotionally. Weeping and crying and feeling sorry for herself beyond what was necessary. Even throughout her behavior at the table he remained calm and collected, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, trying to speak to her rationally. Asking her to stop. Asking her to respect his experience and expertise.  He played the defender to her aggressor.  And she felt sorry for herself?   I reminded her again, at the car, that I didn’t want to be put in the middle.  Again, she said she respected that and appreciated my honesty about that. She understands that 31 years of friendship with him trumps my one year of friendship with her. She knows I don’t want to choose. She knows I want to remain friends no matter what happens with this marriage. Despite that she couldn’t quit crying and I couldn’t just stand there and let her cry. So I gave in to my compassion and gave her the best advice I could. I spent probably 45 minutes standing out in the cold with her.

I told her that she needed to not drink as much as he does, and why. I told her that he needs her to be soft and gentle, a woman. That she needs to allow him to be a man. She needs to trust in him to know how best to do things that are in his expertise and wheelhouse. She needs to not police him. (Yes, she’s in law enforcement and he feels like a prisoner.) She says, “But I have to protect him.” She doesn’t understand that he is a 46-year-old, 6’2″ intelligent man with a black belt in jiu jitsu (could be some other martial art, I don’t recall. Point is, he’s a master). She needs to understand that her behavior and words strike at his manhood. She is being disrespectful to a man who is kind and helpful and tries to please her despite all the garbage she throws his way. But apparently she didn’t take my words to heart or perhaps she was too wasted to remember them because today she crossed the line.

Mind you, the evidence is all circumstantial but with things I know about her, I’d say she is totally capable of being the bitch that would do this. And I know her accomplice, and she is just plain evil.

1. 11:00 a.m. Barb sends Joe a text while he’s at work. “What will you do if you lose your job?” He doesn’t respond. She texts again ten minutes later, “You won’t be able to depend on me, once you leave, will you?”

2. 1:00 p.m. Joe gets a call to meet with his boss. He is fired on the spot. The reason given, “They received accusations against him by a woman.” No name given. No further information provided.

3. 3:00 p.m. Barb’s best friend posts a meme on a private Facebook group, that I happen to be a member of, tagging only Barb. I see it. Find it suspicious and curious. But then forget about it because I don’t know what has happened.

The meme was of Morticia Adams with a glass of celebratory blood and it reads, “That moment when you witness karma in its full, glorious splendor.”

He comes home and she goes out to dinner with another girlfriend. He is devastated that she’d be so cruel. To ruin this job which (yes, gave him the confidence and financial means to leave her) and sully his reputation in the process. He feels lost and confused, sick to his stomach with agony. He doesn’t understand her need to control him or the idea of a human being as a possession. He is a good man. She was blessed to have such a man. Me, I cried. I cried as he told me all about his day. And then, when we were done talking, I cried some more. I felt his pain.

As I said, I have the misfortune of knowing this new “best friend” and she is pure evil. She’s known Barb for less time than I have known her and I warned him, as did others, that she would be a bad influence on her. I think she was the woman who made the accusation. I think it was a plan dreamt up over cocktails and Barb may have even agreed to it thinking it was a joke. Unfortunately, she did “like” the meme, so maybe she knew it all along. The coincidence and timing of everything is just way too suspicious.

I begged Joe to go to a hotel or a friend’s house for tonight at least. I fear for both of their safety. When she was hysterical by my car the idea got stuck in my head that she could, if drunk and pushed beyond hope, kill him and then herself, Brynn Hartman style. When we had finished up our conversation he was going to shower and meditate and if he couldn’t reground himself he’d leave for the night. I think perhaps he thinks I am more worried about what he might do to her. But really, it’s either of them. He’s not violent. He is a very gentle person. But she is controlling and when drunk, she cannot control her behavior. I don’t trust her now. Not at all. Not after today.

By the time this posts, it will be tomorrow. He has promised to check in with me. I will likely sleep poorly tonight. My prayers are that God is in that house tonight. And that he will hear if God tells him to go. That she will hear if He whispers for her to stop. That tonight Barb will leave Joe alone and give him space, and that things do not escalate further.

(Update: both are still living and breathing and no one is in jail.)  Whew!  My domestic violence history takes me there as an option, always.  Feeling grateful, Lord, for your watching over them at this time of crisis.

Bottleneck (a short story)

Bottleneck | Memee's Musings
Photo: Shutterstock

The bottle was almost empty. Just another sip. He cleaned his mouth with his sleeve. The house was still dark. He was cold. She would be home soon. And then he would show her. He would teach her a lesson. Nobody was allowed to treat him like this. He would show her! How dare she leave him. For that guy! He took another sip. The bottle was empty. Maybe he would use the bottle. She had to suffer. He would take his time. Suddenly a car was pulling up. A smile on his face he pressed his body closer to the wall, hiding in the dark.

It was 2:45 in the morning and it was the same as it was every night since she had met Ralph three and-a-half years ago.  She would be out playing, partying with Ralph; having sex with Ralph while he sat at home miserable and lonely. She didn’t care about him, she had never really loved him.  That much was obvious!  If she had she wouldn’t abandon him night after night for a man who didn’t respect her enough to marry her. Continue reading

V-E-N-G-E-A-N-C-E #dishbestservedcold

vengeance

V-E-N-G-E-A-N-C-E

Vigorously

Ensnared

Niggling

Gall

Eating

Away at

Never

Ceasing

Enmity

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I am a total beginner-beginner at poetry and created Memee’s Poetry Parties in an attempt to challenge myself (or more accurately force myself to be challenged) at this form of writing. It does not come easily to me at all. If you enjoy poetry and want to give a poke at it I encourage you to join my monthly poetry party whether you’re brand new to poetry and writing or a veteran writer we all learn from and appreciate one another. It is my hope that we will all find inspiration and encouragement, and make lasting friendships while growing our writing skills and our blogs.

So if you liked my poem I hope you’ll consider joining this month’s party, #dishbestservedcold

Dish Best Served Cold

voodoo doll
Photo courtesy of $30 Date Night

We’ve been doing a lot of happy poetry writing of late and so I figured it was time to flip the coin and see where some of the most powerful poems come from: Hate. We can’t all go out and do the things our imaginations toy with when someone scorns us, but we can get rid of toxic emotions by spewing them onto the pages of our diaries, journals and blogs. So this month it’s all about vengeance, baby!

Submit now!

Anyone is welcome to submit, no matter the age, the language, or the skill level. So challenge your friends: here’s the shortcode to this post:  http://wp.me/p5hvQo-z8

There are 5 simple rules to follow as well as door prizes and bragging rights. You can find the rules and answers to all of your questions at: Memee’s Poetry Parties. There is a lot of information to be found on that page, but if you just want to submit your poem or vote for someone, keep reading.

Submit now!

Submission deadline is August the 24th, 2015. And remember, if you want your fan’s support be sure and share the voting link with them during the voting window: August 25-31.

August 25-31, 2015: Vote!

So mark all the dates on your publishing calendar. Door prizes will be delivered via email. Good Luck!

Now I’ve got to go get to work on my poem. Hope to see you around the punch bowl!

☀ Memee