Bad Call

I’m a pressure vessel that’s about to crack

But you don’t seem to give a fuck about that

You really don’t seem to care at all

Why the fuck did I trust you

Bad call

Weekly Photo Challenge: Family

Even though i’m an only child, if you add up all my Aunties, Uncles and Cousins I have a fairly large family, but for this weeks photos i decided to go with a series of recent shots i took of My Dad, My Son & My Grandfather.

These photos were taken in one of my Grandfather’s bird aviaries (Both my Father and Grandfather breed Zebra Finches). This was the first time Riley had met his Great Grandfather as the last time i saw him i was still pregnant. It was Norm’s 87th birthday!! Riley wouldn’t cooperate in the photos and give me a smile, but they all seemed pretty impressed with each other :-).

Poppie1Poppie2poppie3

Way out of bounds

I trusted you

You let me down

You hit one

Way out of bounds

 

My life, she fell apart

Split right through my heart

I can’t keep arguing with myself

Need to hate

Hate someone else

 

I trusted you

You let me down

You hit me

And knocked me to the ground

 

I can still hear you in my head

I can still feel you in my bed

To think of you hurts my brain

I’m think I’m going to go insane

 

I trusted you

You let me down

You hit one

Way out of bounds

 

 

 

 

Words in my way

So this is taking a trip into the past, here is a poem I wrote when I was Sixteen, far-out that was nearly eleven years ago 😦 anyways I must have been really messed up over something at the time hmmmmm.

 

Words in my way

 

It is a fact,   that,    I don’t know how to react

This world inside my head,     its wack

My heart speaks a language I can’t decode

Later on no one will care which path you choose

No one cares who you really are

Everybody hides their scars

No one cares what you’ve lost

No one cares what personal lines you’ve crossed

It’s like the people you love are saying

Does it matter that I don’t really need you

I’m sick of all this hurting in my head

I’m going to go hide in my bed

I have to admit I’ve had so much fun

Think I might look into a life on the run

Can the world please look at me for all I am

That’s impossible when I block my emotions like a dam

I’m sick of always caring about what people think about me

No one else seems to care what I think of thee

I’ve said too much but not nearly all that’s in my head

All these words in my way

Fears drive me forward every day.

I Love you anyway Luigi

During the lead up to my son’s birth I was trying to put together a family tree book for him and what followed was destroying my father’s belief that he had Italian heritage, sorry daddy.

My father picked up the name Luigi in his younger days because he looked like a wog. He was rather proud of this and so was I. I love Italian culture and thought it rather nice to have some Italian heritage.

Now my father is a short, active, quiet (unless under the influence of rum or red wine) and rather fit young looking 55 year old. It is really only in the last five years that he started to show his age and get some grey hair etc. When people used to pick on him saying he dyed his hair, he always used the line that it was his Italian blood. Now his vitality IS definitely in his blood, his mother now 85 is still globetrotting and in my memory has only had the one grey patch of hair nearly my entire life and no neither of them have ever dyed their hair. If I’m lucky I’ll be the same.

Now I had always been told by my father that his grandfather was Italian, so when doing my sons family tree I dug deeper. I sat down and asked my father where he got the idea his grandfather was Italian from and he told me a story which is what he believed to be true; that his Grandmother had got up to some mischief with a sexy Italian and thus his mother was born. The sexy Italian then got shipped back to Italy for shaming his family etc. etc. A lovely and touching story, I mean who wouldn’t want to have a fling with a sexy Italian. Now my dad’s story says that the Italians had a store and his grandmother worked there, nope no they didn’t no Italians had a store anywhere near, there is no record of Italians in the town in which his mother came from, on record there’s only French entrepreneurs, Englishmen and aborigines before the time of his mother’s birth.

Now the story of his Grandmother falling madly in love with a sexy dark grease ball and conceiving a child, then the sexy stud being forced to leave his beloved and return home never to see her again is wonderful stuff, someone spat him a rather good yarn as a kid and he soaked it up. I still wonder who told him that story, maybe he asked his grandmother one day why he didn’t have a grandfather and maybe it was his grandmother being cheeky that told him the story – he is rather vague in the memory department as to where he picked up the story from. I quizzed one of his sisters and she’d never heard it before but thought it was rather amusing.

My father is one of my favourite people on earth and I love him to bits. I didn’t want to break his heart and tell him after digging I had found out whom his grandfather really was and that he was plain and had no awesome wog-ness.

Now knowing the truth I’d just go with that back in 1928 my Great Grandmother wanted a baby, so she had herself one and that baby, MY grandmother, grew up to be one of the most amazing women I know.

Actually all the women in my dad’s family are kick arse independent awesome awesome beautiful powerful women. I grew up as a little girl with extremely strong females in my life on both my mother’s and father’s sides. Both of my grandmothers are amazing inspiring powerful women with amazing strength. Now this did instil in me that I can do anything (which is good) but that I don’t need anything from anybody and that no one needs to help me (not so good and gets me into strife from time to time) but never the less GIRL POWER – wait this went from being about my dad to girl power, hmmm well I don’t think he’d mind.

Remember to smile people, it makes you live longer!!!!