I fell in love

I don't know what it was,
but I just fell in love,
you are my dreams come true,
and I can't get enough.

So I reach out with faith,
while knowing you're there,
one can't plan for this love,
one can't be prepared.

I've given everything, from the core of my soul,
we share secrets together, that nobody knows,
all my life, I've felt I was broken,
kept everything in, especially my emotions.

Then *you* came along,
and I began to feel free,
released this love that I have,
I never knew I contained within me.

Now here we are,
and a year has gone past,
we were designed to be together,
this is as simple as fact.

We both have our issues,
and both experience discord,
so if love is the cost,
then you I can afford.

I love you so much,
I used to dream of the day,
I would have this love,
and have such a beautiful package,
to adore in all ways.

© Steve Bertrand aka. stevieb 20110209

A piece of the puzzle

I've never swayed on this blog from writing, but I'm about to. I walked through the neighborhood that I grew up in today, and snapped some pics. This is, what it is.

This is my first time commenting on pics inline on my blog.

I moved to this street when I was 4-5 years old. All was not well, but it was. I fear saying much because I desire not to disrespect my family members. However... my brothers and I had the most loving and warm household in this block. Period.

To the right is where I lived. As I was traversing the area today, many feelings and emotions came over me, as did memories. I reflected on the tenseness and violence I faced. It was like it was right there again. I never was a violent person unless provoked, but it was like I was shocked into an understanding of what my past was...

This is looking in the front door. The window in the back was the dining room/ kitchen. Straight up the stairs was the bathroom. Above me is my room, and just to my left above me is where my brothers rested their heads.

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 Looking in through the back window, this was our kitchen. I remember we had a 19-ancient dishwasher on wheels, that had to be rolled near the sink to be connected. If my boys and I had done something wrong to the point Mom might be upset, we'd unload the dishwasher in the morning for her to show her that we were angels.

 Still looking in through the kitchen window. Right below me would have been our kitchen table, and across, the fridge. To the extreme left (unseen) was the back door, and barely visible to the left is the door to the basement. The entry way on the left top is to the living room. I remember one time, that my youngest brother and I got into shit (I think for throwing something at a bus), so we were 'grounded'. This very day I heard from a friend about 'warp zones' on Super Mario Bros.'. So as my middle brother was playing this game in the living room, I'm sitting on the floor by this entrance way, shouting at him what he needs to do in order to get to this 'warp zone' in this game.

We didn't have much. We got our Nintendo from what became our step-father (RIP) long after anyone else did. We were fortunate this way. No one else on our block had anyone like Jim. He wasn't the transient man that every other door in our neighbourhood had. He came for dinner, then left. I respect the man. Moreover, I respect my Mom for instilling in me that a woman deserves respect. She neglected her personal needs for us.

 This is looking into the 'back park' from our back yard. Over the years, they removed the yards (we had a decent one then, with a little spruce tree). This is where I learnt how to hop fences. Probably at six-seven years old, I could hop an eight foot fence without barely touching it. Mom didn't want us in the 'back park'. There was commonplace violence, drugs weapons and general child neglect up here. Of course, we learnt early to let Mom be calm by thinking we were good, but the reality of living in this situation turns an honest person into a good liar in a hurry.

 My front door. Top right window was my bedroom. The window to the left of that was my beloved children brother's room.

 Walking in the 'back park'. I observed that things haven't changed much. There isn't much for children to do. I pulled out my camera and snapped a picture of these young kids (probably 7-9) using a stick to play individual baseball with empty beer cans.

 Some writing on the wall.

 Continued my walk through what used to be forest and field, but what is now urban development to the rear of my elementary school. I spent kindegarten to grade 8 here. I never was naturally a violent person, and throughout my life, I have only fought for specific reasons. On one day, I was in grade 1, and right about the spot I stand here, I fought a kid named Ronny Reynolds. It was quite vicious. I lost the fight (the only one I will ever admit to 'losing'), but I gained my respect.

Ron lived a few doors down from us, and I had heard that he was going to hurt my brother when he got home. I don't even think my brother was in school yet. So I got my brown ugly cords dirty with him, and went home pretty hurt. Although I conceeded to defeat, I had stood up for my area, and claimed that I will defend my family at all costs.

A few days later, Ronny and I ate peanut butter from a spoon in his kitchen, then went outside and watched a neighbour 'fix' a Camaro that was up on blocks. A common sight.

I don't believe that my brothers know this, but much of my young life was lived watching over and protecting them, so they could have a life in what I knew as hell, which quickly became normal to me. I learnt quickly... I befriended people from all ends of the scale. I never completely got away from the 'poor' taunts, but a few key fights allowed me to 'fit in' so that I wouldn't be bothered again. In grade 6, I met a wonderful girl who I didn't know how to properly respect or understand (who has subsequently become a wonderful woman), and in grade eight, I befriended a couple of the middle-class people who I never would have expected that they'd pay any attention to me.

...and here it is. My school. Where I  began my education that made me the terrorist I am.

Subconscious state

In a subconscious state,
my mind is at ease,
bound only by perceptions...
I've entered a dream.

I see happy things,
free from the shackles of life,
you became my reality,
on a cold winter's night.

I felt you holding my hand,
while no one else was there,
you breathed into me life,
when I was crushed with despair.

I've felt you before,
in all the lives that I've lived,
but nothing prepared me,
for what now just is.

I love you more than life itself,
you picked me up, while I pushed away help.
I'm so very thankful, you disconnected me from pain,
and carried me on this journey,
to become alive again.

© Steve Bertrand aka. stevieb 20120218

Like I should

I'm a serendipitous kid,
signals mixed,
with religion nixed,
walking around pissed,
myself I outbid,
mistaking love for fear,
I've missed a lot because the emotions I allowed to live,
I seem to outlive these grudges against myself,
I only doubt that my hatred will ever be expelled,
I do have love,
but have hate in my blood,
I was baptised into lies,
and feel my soul is being crushed.

I can't get past the fact that the world's not intact,
feels like a heart attack when I get angry and fire back,
at the ass cracks that rape and pillage the general masses.
I need to forgive myself,
and totally let go,
but I can't bring myself to have love for these greedy assholes.
The hatred,
I've got to get it out,
it only masks the true emotions crippling,
fear and doubt,
but that's what I'm about.

I know I can stand strong,
I need to focus on life's positives,
because in love I belong,
so as I sit here and write,
within the core of these woods,
I'm working diligently on changing my attitude,
to focus on love like I should.

© Steve Bertrand aka. stevieb 20110202

Author Note: I really am upset with myself for exerting so much hate toward those negative. I feel like such a waste. I will do my best to see the truth, but focus my energy on the positive, loving the people in my life I have been overlooking. I pray I can stop hating.