BATTLE BORN

                

   

BATTLE BORN

With so much loss around you,

You do not hang your head and cry,

You are the battle born.

“All for our county”

All for our state,

When we join together,

We fight on,

Until our final battle cry,

Until our final battle cry!

The country sits in AWE,

Sits in awe of us,

Who are we to each other?

These strangers whom we trust....

We call ourselves Nevadans,

We are not just your typical “American”

You and me together, that is all of us.

We are the battle born.

When we come together,

We rise up,

Under unprecedented tragedy,

Coming all together,

Ever stoically,

Stoically,

We are all in this together.

Together you and me!

It’s what makes us stronger,

This is who we are,

Let the entire world see.

Let them see.

Let them see!

Fore when you heard that battle cry,

You answered back,

Battle born ferociously!!

Watch us now as we stand together,

Together, you and me.

We are the battle born.

Hear the resilience and LOVE in our cries!

See the reflection of inner strength within our eyes.

We are those originally born here,

We are those who’s hearts have truly turned to the silver and the blue,

We are those who keep our hearts here,

In this desert city named Las Vegas,

This is not a regular city,

To us, this is our own backyard,

The treasured place we call our HOME.

Battle born.

Together we hold the mountain bluebird at our breast,

Together we hold this silver state above all the rest,

You are the battle born,

You have goodwill in your heart,

Strength in your bones,

Moral character and faith within your inner spirit.

The silver state is my “Home” and HOME means Nevada to me,

We storm on with selfless grace,

While always maintaining our faith,

We will ALWAYS come together, and together means you and me,

Together means you and me!

I proudly call myself Nevadan because HOME means Nevada to me!

Home means Nevada!

Home means Nevada!

Home means Nevada to me!

R.C. Cardenas, 10/03/17

Rebecca Cardenas Blog Place: TRAGIC MISERY; VERSION 2

Rebecca Cardenas Blog Place: TRAGIC MISERY; VERSION 2

TRAGIC MISERY; VERSION 2

tragic misery

(dEDICATED TO lINKIN PARK)

Tragic misery,

All your days are now gone,

I saw you waiting there for me,

Silently I took you,

Ever tragically,

Ever tragically,

Why did you never fight me?

Why did you never see?

See me there waiting,

Ever tragically.

Now your death forever haunts me,

Ever tragically!

Ever tragically!!

You should have shared your pain,

You were never there alone, standing in the rain.

So many tears shed across the world,

Your talented musical soul is forever gone,

Ever tragically…

Ever tragically…

Sharing in this tragic misery!

Ever tragically!

Ever tragically!!

Your musical poetic art will always live on forever,

Yet it is living forever with a shadow of yourself,

Haunted by your loss,

Those who loved you are razed with pain.

All your loved ones caught up in this tragic misery…

Ever tragically!

Ever tragically!!

You cut the gift of life too short, ever tragically,

Ever Tragically.

Yet still we hear your soul call out,

With every song we hear,

Ever tragically…

Tragically.

We wish you had shared your pain,

So many would have sat with you through any rain.

You were never our tragic misery!

Now all we can do is scream out because your gone.

Ever tragically!

Ever tragically!!

Ever Tragically!!!

Ever tragically!!!!

You were never our tragic misery!

Tragic misery.

07/20/17

Rebecca C. Cardenas

#rebeccaccardenas

POETRY; 'I Don't Want To'

'I Don't Want To  '

I don't want to live in pain no more,
I don't want to face another day,
I don't have the strength to fight on anymore,
I hope you don't blame me, when I do not stay.
For you I will go on,
For just one more day,
One more day...

-R.C. Cardenas
12/31/15

POETRY; A Sea

'A Sea'

These words,
They run through me,
As a babbling brook,
Flowing down from torrents of rivers,
Passing time,
Originating.
See thy very depths?
From endless abysses they carry on,
Taking me to such pages of bliss,
Flowing down the rivers and streams,
Onto the fathomless oceans of thee.
Even lakes will enter into that vast sea.
A sea that lives through me.
It lives through me.

09/04/15
R. C. Cardenas

Another song idea, I wrote this one for my Husband...

(Song Idea)
'If I Should Fade'

If I should fade,
I want you to be....
The one who is holding me,
The one who sets me free.

Stay strong and move along,
Don't fret and have regrets,
Sit and cry,
And wonder WHY!

If I should fade,
I want you to be...
The one who is holding me,
The one who sets me free.

Don't sit still and cry over me,
Stay close to the ones that we love the most,
I know I died but promise me...
You'll take a day to turn back time and remember me,

Remember me...

If I should go, don't let me go until you know...
You are the one that touched my sky,
Your the one I'll love until my last sigh,
Even then I hold on to you,
With all that I am,
My heart, my soul,
My love won't let go,
I won't ever let go.

If I can't stay and fade away,
Remember me,
My heart and my soul.
I won't let go,
Your all I ever wanted to know.

So if I should stop and fade away,
I want you to be the one who's holding me...
Your the one who has to let go.
If it's my time don't be sad for me,
Dry your eyes, never weep for me,
My love will always be where I want it to be,
You, in your heart, forever for me.

My love will never let go,
Never let go,
My love I will never let you go,
Forever your a part of me.

So just let me go, just don't forget about me.
How you were my heart,
My heart and my soul,

I love you with all my heart and soul.
All of my soul,
Some day you'll come back to me,
For now only look back to LIVE for me.
I would want that for me.
For you to BE.

If I should fade,
I want you to be...
The one who is holding me,
The one who sets me free.

-rcc
08/01/15

Another idea for a song I have... and unedited because I am special that way.

(Song Idea)
'No More'

Every time I look in the mirror I see the young girl I was before...
These days from my past,
I keep hoping all the good memories just last,
No more hurt,
No more pain,
Why oh why do you keep driving me insane?
No more hurt,
No more pain,
Fuck this moment....
It won't last.
This moment...
It won't last!
So why do I see, these young eyes, staring back at me??
I was so innocent,
So naive to see...
All the things you took and took, from me,
You took it all from me.
You just keep taking and breaking.
Your breaking me.

Every time I look in the mirror I see the young girl I was before...
These days from my past,
When the good memories last.
There's no more hurting...
The pain didn't last.
Take a look in my eye's!
Stop telling me lies,
You keep driving me,
It despises me.
You keep driving me,
It despises me.
Driving me,
Driving me insane....
Insane!
Your driving me insane....
Insane!
No more.

01-08-16
R.C. Cardenas

Feeling SPECIAL...

  You know having Rheumatoid arthritis and Lupus can sure make a girl (I realize I am a woman however I am also an allergic to BS thirty year old, a twenty-eight year old  who is an EIGHTY year old, a lost twenty-six year old, a very optimistic twenty year old, a too trusting eighteen year old, an extremely naive seventeen year old, a shell bound reclusive teenager, a happy go lucky preteen, an inquisitive little girl, a scared toddler and an innocent little baby. I think we all have parts to us that remain unseen.) feel special. Instinctively some of us can recognize and KNOW ourselves better, due to having this intrinsic nature which is us, yet not us; because truly all these complexities that are very much alive in us are there, always and ever present and yet our chronic illnesses/ invisible diseases do NOT make us, us.
  Yes, I digress. It is yet another one of those  super COOL 'Becca' things that I tend to do. FYI: Beware of me inside of a Costco or Target with money to spare! I am writing this post to avoid my overwhelming need to yell REALLY loudly screaming into the desert. Why, you might ask? Well, because my typing speed probably cannot be measured it is so archaic. I know, big news right!? I remember when I was nineteen I was proud that I could type thirty two words per minute! A whole staggering thrirty two words per minute and while using both hands; one AND two. Now I sit here struggling, (laying down really) after driving too much today my back is demanding I lay flat. Yes demanding and screaming, such a party popper which is my own body.
  About my current one fingered wonder of a performance. It is not even with much speed, annoyingly, but it lets me do what I want. In this case it is venting this after I so pathetically tried to type out a peom with some accuracy to no avail. This should be a marked talent I think! There should be a one fingered typist holiday in honor of all one fingered ninja (because everything sounds cooler with the word Ninja in front of it!) spoonie warrior princesses out there. All that matters is the fact that I can still type! Hallelujah! I do in fact have a program (Dragon, hail to thee!) that would type for me. I find that just isn't fun, I like the soft click of keys or the rapid taps that sound when excitement or inspiration strikestrike me. Without inspiration what is left? To degress into the stone age and find solace by staring at the wall?? The wall is so purdy! It is white and not yet padded. It also comes with a highly prized fashionable, yet matching to those walls, straight jacket. All would be jealous. To all that... No thanks! I have been there and done that. Jusr kidding, I have in fact somehow managed to stave of the matching set of the 'yes your crazy and welcome to offical insanity' package. Falling asleep with your eyes open does not a skill make. Too bad for that! Plus it tends to freak people out. Nope, not dead yet!! I myself think it is a hilarious zombie in training skill type of skill set. ;)

  I would be typing much faster and longer, if my hands aka my middle finger (hmm, do you think there is a subconscious gesture there??) were not rebelling at this juncture. Right now I choose to be that optimistic twenty year old! Okay, maybe the rebel too. SUCK it RA and SLE because you will not get the best of me!! You do not make me. You may shape me. You may even joint replace me, but no, you will definitely not make me.
 I type with one finger proudly because I know myself to be a uniquely strong willed individual, or more simply put I am more stubborn than a mule donkey and ox combined; Eeyore you know I love you still. Again, just for good measure, I say/bellow to myself "Suck it RA/SLE!!!" (I would yell this out loudly but I pride myself in the fact that my son's do not, as of yet, believe that their Mother is a full fledged nutter. Besides wouldn't want to irk my neighbors, I like them. Yes scaring away one's mini me's and neighbors would definitely be frowned upon in good ole suburbia!)

  This whole thought, who am I kidding? Thought!? Really Rebecca Christine?!? When do you ever have one single thought? I would need medications for THAT, indeed the plural and emphasis on th we 'S.' As I was saying these thoughts happened to come about when I realised it has taken me three days, of starts and stops (between the driving of my 12, 16 and 18 year olds to Jr. High, High School and College. Yes, I am having to drive my 18 year old to COLLEGE....another long story) of typing out and editing my poetry and book. The poems alone are ones I consider and call "shorts" This is only the poetry and one book in progress. I am not even including in the short stories or poems I have written on paper. The thirteen chapters of my intended book have yet to be salvaged all the way, I better not get into THAT story, another long one too. If I remember the password to my journal then I have even more stories there. Except how do you salvage an open a document that is password protected. I cannot get Word to salvage it because it must first open the document and it cannot because of the password and encryption I had added onto it ten years ago. At this point I am worried, even my older poetry files have all opened. Why Word? WHY!?

  Back to the original rant of thoughts yet again. I did take notice while tapping away (seriously, I cannot in good faith claim to be typing) that for every THREE, yes I said three keys. For every three whole keys I have entered, my hands were hitting the wrong keys with an average of one, okay, probably two times. Yes, having RA/SLE makes your hands have a mind of their own, you tell them to bend here only to have them bend there. Thus, delete, delete, delete, followed by a deluge of non pretty language in your head, because your typing is now with one single finger and you didn't last long trying to make both hands function. Apparently shear will power is not a super power.
  Darn that rebel teenager (you know the one who did not say a curse word until she was almost sixteen, then had to stop herself from surreptitiously checking if her Mom was somehow nearby even though said Mom was fluent in pirating sailor.) and her interesting uses of sailor speak for distracting you yet again. Shame on her for wanting to take a mallet then torch the pieces of her laptop, computer, Kindle Fire, tablet AND beloved cell phone, because she just knows they all out to plot against her and her SPECIAL non jazzy hands.
  The poems will just have to wait until later, when insomnia strikes and I start writing more poetry with my Kindle Fire. Gosh darn it, that means I will have even more to retype into the laptop with Word. My poetry entries I write with an app :/ Thus ends my conundrum. My hands, they have problems but I do not since I am a special princess. We can all dream. ;) 

Be well, 

Rebecca C. Cardenas

POETRY; Why?

Why?

Why does the general public riot for the rights of criminals?
When horrible crimes affect truly innocent people each and every single day.
Why should I feel sorry for these bogus agendas?
Defending the unworthy,
Making unjust people their martyrs, so their criminal actions will seem okay?
Am I the only one analytic and seething?
With so many injustices,
It seems to all be building up...
AND building up!!
Each and every God given day.
Why do we not better use these passions??
For the truly good of heart, pure of spirit....
The TRUE innocents of today!
Hearken to these words.
Before the Angels come a calling...
and you then have to give out your answers.
For which you will surely be held to pay.
To hell and pay.

04/16/15
R.C. Cardenas

POETRY; Reason

Evident is your offending desire to insult me,
Against all reason,
Making my sanity lacking,
Unjustly.
Unfairly.
These untruths.
Using uncivil excuses,
For provocation.
Feelings so decidedly indifferent.
Any such joyous hint of consideration used to tempt me...
Always.
Have you long since been thusly unfavorable?
There is every reason to think ill of you.
Ungenerous a part you acted.
Obnoxiously.
I dare not deny this dividing instability,
Such as this my heart cannot bare!
Censure your caprices of such an acute abundance of misery.
Why do you listen with an air of no remorse?
Throwing out your hostilities,
With ever this condescension,
These chosen words like daggers to pierce...
Oh, do they bleed you!
Slowly,
Mercilessly,
To find desolation in your wake,
Again and ever again.

Staunch thy erroneous wounds and ways,
Stand tall,
Do not yield, ever to cry!
Assume tranquillity.
Walk away,
Have not just a glimmering wish,
It is solely in your power,
Obtaining bliss.
Your inner strength does waver....
Resist!
With a vast supply of reasons,
From all this.
This unholy agenda,
Now it seizes,
Ends.

Far away does your spirit start it's travels,
It grew from the smallest of morose places,
Congratulate the ways it has touched you,
In keeping with the confidence of hope.
Rejoice in its finalized success!
Conciliate me in my escape...
Lead.
Me.
Away...
To a more tranquil of realities.
Set free with a heightened independence.
Take flight amongst life's majestic range of vast colors.
Thankful you had even a splintered small glimmer...
Needful,
Even tiny reasons...
Any reason, to take you away!!
Any reason.

-R. C. Cardenas
 12/12/14