From the Grave

I was doing some cleaning and found these old poems. Here is one of them-

From the Grave

The feel of death has touched me

However slight it may have been

It crept in ever so slowly

Trying to fill as much space as it can

I felt its dread and darkness

Its weight and ever searching loneliness

I felt its urgent need

My soul it must caress

I tried to shut it out

But none- the- less it stayed

Farther in it crept

From its path it never swayed

Until it filled my entire being

My body and my soul

Then it left so swiftly

What could have been its goal?

*Note: Written February 6, 1983 Dedicated to Harry A. Bradford. I awoke from a dream screaming. As occurs I knew it was one of those dreams. The dream was me trapped under the house trailer that we lived in. The space was small and tight. I didn’t like it. I felt claustrophobic. Then I looked around in the dark and noticed that underneath me were lots of bodies, dead bodies. I remember thinking “There is some sort of mistake. I do not belong here.” I started to scream and I smelled this thick carnation smell. It made me want to puke it was so strong.

That day I was a wreck worried about my family. Were they in danger? How could I save them? What was I supposed to save them from?

While on my way to work the next day I started to smell that sickly sweet carnation smell. I wanted to vomit. I was so nauseous. The more I drove the sicker I felt and that smell was so intense. Ahead of me I saw a vehicle with its lights on come around a bend in the road. This was before running with your lights on was recommended. There were many cars behind it with their lights on as well. It was a funeral. The smell intensified and I almost threw up.

I drove on allowing the funeral to pass. I knew where it was heading. There was a cemetery on my way to work. After the caravan passed, the smell drifted away. I still felt sick but I think it was mostly from the shock of the event and the strength of the smell.

After work I went to the cemetery and found the grave. It was close to my fathers, a newer section of the cemetery. That night I took a white carnation from the grave. It had that very same smelled that made me ill during the dream and earlier that day when the hearse came around the bend.

The next day I went back and inquired from the grounds keeper who the was buried the day before. The man said it was the preacher. I later found the obituary for Harry A. Bradford.

This event stuck with me for a very long time. 

For this printing I tried to look up the obit for Harry. It turns out that he was born on September 15, 1930, he was 52 years old. I was born in September on the 18th. Just an eerie coincidence. I did an online search to find his obituary but was not successful. I will keep looking. I did find his date of birth and death, his age at death. And his social security number. That should not be accessible. Just saying. 

http://www.faqs.org/people-search/harry-bradford/#b this is where I found his information.

Growing up in Haunted Houses

My childhood was spent moving from house to house as my parents struggled to find a home they could afford. This meant changing schools often and friends as well. But the one thing most of these houses had in common were the ghosts and the fact that most of them scared the crap out of me. 

Every house had its own unique ghost. Once we lived on a race track grounds. Our introduction to the ghost of this house was when we moved in. One we were settled all the kids went into my oldest brothers’ room to throw darts. My brother had hung the dart board on a door in his room. Little did the rest of us know that the door let to the attic. As we took turn throwing the darts, the darts in turn flew backwards out of the dart board and toward us. Being kids, we thought this was the coolest thing until we discovered why this might be happening. Apparently a man had hung himself on the stairway of the attic just behind that door. Night after night this lost soul clomped up and down the stairs sending chills up my spine while fear paralyzed me. I would draw my body close, tightening all my muscles and was unable to move. Could I have moved I would have crawled under my bed to hide from this ghost I was sure was going to stop walking up and down the stairs all night and instead turn into my room and get me. Instead I stayed in my bed, eyes the size of dinner plates and my ears working overtime trying to hear if his walking pattern might have changed and he was indeed coming for me. 

I will fill you in on other stories a little at a time as there are so many. For right now I am thrilled that my current house doesn't have stairs and my current ghost does not make me crap my pants. Perhaps it is because I am much older now, had so many experiences or maybe this one is just not that scary. *Happy dance*

What is the Limit of Your Attention Span?

I noticed lately I have less and less interest in longer posts whether it is a blog, facebook or e-mail. It seems that I want to get-in and get-out quickly; less truly is more for me right now. I have no tolerance for lengthy verbiage.

Yet I can sit for hours on fb reading hundreds of  little posts from anyone. But let one of those posts break into a sermon and I am gone. The information they want to share could be something I might want, or need to know, but I have a hard time clicking that "continue" button.

There is no doubt that I am missing out, but will I be able to force myself to have a longer attention span? I think it is necessary. (See, some readers have already clicked out of my blog- it has gone on too long) I can still read books and informational web pages so I know I can still do it. But it is a choice. I have to choose to  s l o w  down and pay more attention because I can only expect that as time goes by my attention span will wittle away to nothing- a tweet: 140 characters or less- or worse- a mini tweet (yet to be discovered by anyone but me): 70 characters or less.

Perish the thought. I will be working on increasing my attention span daily. I cannot live in a 70 character or less world. I refuse. How about you?

Read an Ebook Week!

Smashwords ebook House on Butcher HarborYippie, it is that time again. Smashwords is promoting Read an Ebook Week. My book is one of many FREE ebooks on smashwords throughout this week. Go to the link below. There will be a coupon listed under the price of the book. Please if you haven't had the chance to read my book get a copy now. Smashwords lets you download a copy in any form including PDF for reading on your computer or phone if you do not own an ereader! Please stop by and get your copy today. If you purchased the paperback book go ahead and get an ebook copy for yourself.

Please spread the link around and help me to be the most downloaded author this week. It is not a competition, but it would make me VERY happy.

Remember- Free this week:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/28921