The Imaginary Crown......by Julianna Rowe

 The Imaginary Crown

                              I used to be a princess with an imaginary crown.

Then one decade it fell royally down.

Time kept passing. I stopped to the $1 store

And I bought one more.

It was plastic and didn’t shine like the original one.

But it matched my shine I had lost over the years

The old crown stayed the same

Meantime I changed my name

Did it help?

Nope, the crown stayed the same.

It didn’t tarnish; I did. 

I put it back on.

Smile, laugh, come back to your crown,

The one that sparkles and never lets you down.

Don’t look in the mirror

Look into your heart

Then simply go play with your old dog, Bart.

Love yourself, wear the dress

Put makeup on and don’t be a mess

Sing a song from days gone by

Loud and clear for all to hear

Wear your crown to the grocery store

Yes, you can; let them think your insane

Most will smile and see your heart

And realize your old youth needed a jump start

A pretend visit from that sparkling crown

Lifted you up from where you’d been down

It didn’t change the way you appeared

It brought your heart back up from the rears!

By Julianna Rowe

 

The Family Blood We "Share"...or Not By Julianna Rowe

             

                  Family—The Blood We “Share”

Money is more important to some than the blood we share or the heart that moves it. The heart cannot move paper. It cannot purchase medications. It cannot sustain the body with nutrients. It pumps poison thorns or velvet strength. And at that, it cannot without the mind’s offerings. 

So, you see whatever you do and think daily pumps through your veins. It surrounds your being unseen and even unheard.

Open the mental compartments for release of the thorns. If not, they shall grow onto your bones, sucking and tearing your velvet strength, devouring your living nutrients, and breaking your heart to death.

Don’t let the thorns take your breath of life.

Julianna Rowe

Generations of Clue's by Julianna Rowe

                           

Generations of Clues

I burst into this world covered in the muck of my descendants.

The church poured water, dismissing the demons' rants.

Did “they” really believe “they” would leave?

The battle of the good and evil would forever cleave.

They came from a hundred years present and past.

Fighting for first place to see who would last.

The greed, the giving, the love, the hate,

Hurry, take over fast, and don’t be late.

Kill the mind, devour the body, and don’t let good ride high.

Those cells from past grandmothers caused many to cry.

“They“ didn’t fight them; they laid down and died.

Never knowing how to choose the Y in the road,

Away from death and onto the living mode.

Generations of clues pissed in the winds,

No attention was paid to the past hidden sins.

Sweep the rain that cleanses generations dead cells,

Into the drains and into their Hells

Where they belonged long ago

Before they touched deep into your soul.

Julianna Rowe

The Fairy of Steeple Hill ........... by Julianna Rowe

 

As the gentle breeze rustled the leaves on Steeple Hill, Lily’s heart raced with worry for the injured bluebird nestled in her delicate hands. Its vibrant feathers, now dulled by pain, reminded her of the shimmering sapphire skies. She knew time was of the essence. Welcome to Steeple Hill, my name is Lily, she said as she helped the little bluebird inside. 

What can I do for you, little bird? And do you have a name? Where is your family?

Little Bird did not answer but simply stared at Lily.

Sweet girl, are you hurt?  And that is when Lily saw the tiny tear trickling down her new friend's face.

Oh, my goodness, what can be the problem here? Do not be afraid. Let me see if I can help you.

Lily bent down and lifted the little bird onto the soft, gentle palm of her hand. She raised one tiny blue wing and then the other. The little bird gave out a quiet peep, and that was all. Lily continued checking and talking while she tenderly sat Bluebirdie on her best pink velveteen pillow on her fluffy green bed of soft lavender petunias. Then Lily sat down on her floor made from scrap carpet pieces and quietly stroked the little one’s delicate feathers as she sang and then rose to flutter around and around as though she were dancing a healing ballerina waltz in rhythmic form. Almost hypnotic. Bluebirdie’s eyes followed Lily’s dance until she fell fast asleep.

Lily decided to do some investigating on her own, considering Bluebirdie wasn’t coming forth with any intelligible conversation. Lily flew out and up the steep incline where her house had been built, to the top where she could see forever. But she didn’t see any other families that might belong to her new guest. Lily flew higher to the treetops, thinking maybe the little one fell from its home nest. But nothing. That’s it, Lily thought. I must call upon the forest fairies for assistance. Lily fluttered back to her home to open the locked golden box she kept hidden behind a loose rock in the side of her safe haven, also hidden securely among the deep leaves and trees on the side of Steeple Hill.

She had built it with her fairy friend Lucien when they arrived in the forest long ago. A fire had destroyed their previous homes high above the city among the homes of the rich and famous. After moving, Lucien and his friends had carried rocks and wood pieces for the walls and flooring. They found scraps of material behind the local stores in the trash bins for counters and cupboards. Tiny dishes were gathered from the dollhouse remains found in the trash behind Toyland, the local toy store. They had to be very careful not to be seen because the humans have deadly sprays and big sticks that will kill them. So, trips to town were rare, if ever, now that the homes on Steeple Hill were completed. Trips were made only for repairs, which weren’t needed often.

Lily knew it was time to ring the Fairy Bells because this was an emergency. It had been eons since there had been any emergency where she had to remove the golden box and call forth the Forest Fairies.

She tugged and twisted the groaning rock. She thought possibly some of the mud Lucien had used to seal the outer walls had seeped in near the hiding area of the emergency glass case. After several attempts, she stopped to regain her strength. That is when she recalled the mantra necessary for entrance to the box . How could she have forgotten? she thought. With a whisper of hope, she called upon the Sacred Ramden, known or his wisdom and powerful magic.

Ramden Ramden, enter thou.  Ramden Ramden, enter thou. Come forth Ramden, we need your help. There is a lost one on the hill, and only you can do her will. Ramden Ramden, enter thou.

The wall began to tremble. Lily pushed and pulled when suddenly the glass box began to glow as it slid out of its encrusted grave and opened gracefully. And the luminous, glowing Ramden swirled out in a grand entrance of diamond dust and glory. His gracefully adorned, jeweled, glass-like wings shimmered in the afternoon sun, reflecting his power through his magical garments. He stepped out of his golden chamber, gently placing one silver slipper onto the carpet and then another. Ramden swirled around, taking in every moment of space in Lily’s home. He then took himself a seat on her best box chair covered in velvet with flowers that tied the purple fabric to the box beneath. Ramden spoke.

 “Dear Lily,” Ramden spoke softly, his voice as soothing as a babbling brook. “Fear not, for we shall find the bluebird’s family. We are all connected by the threads of the forest.”

Ramden, Bluebirdie came to my door in distress but has not spoken. I have searched as far as I could to find her family with no results. She is an orphan, and we must find her family Ramden. Please call upon the Forest Fairies, for only they have the powers of flight and invisibility to walk between worlds and to communicate with and manipulate the forces of nature and the four elements.

By the way, Ramden, “Where is your crown?”

“Oh, my fiddlesticks, I must have dropped it when I slid out of that stuck hole in the wall. Dear Lily, that needs to be attended to. I may have others call upon my royal status and authority. I would be stuck in that stucco your friend Lucien messed up. By the way, where is that chap of a fellow? Without my circlet crown, my powers are more limited. Now where is this little orphan you speak of?”

Lily escorted Ramden to her bedroom, where Bluebirdie lay asleep on Lily’s pink velveteen pillow.

Ramden fluttered back and forth and around the little bluebird for a millisecond, and then with a wave of his magical hand, Ramden summoned the other fairies of the forest. They appeared in a flurry of light, their laughter mingling with the rustle of leaves. Each fairy took to the skies, fanning out across the treetops, calling out for the little bluebird’s kin.

Together, they searched high and low, through the shadows of ancient oaks and the shimmering glades of wildflowers. As twilight approached, the fairies’ determination hoped it would bring them closer to finding the bluebird’s family as they wove a tapestry of hope and unity among the forest’s magical inhabitants. Lily felt a spark of optimism.

Magnolia and June lived in the big house at the base of Steeple Hill. Lily’s friends and human sisters with hair like spun gold and eyes like summer skies often conversed with Lily, who was no bigger than their thumb and who resided in a small fairy cabin on Steeple Hill outside the girls’ large picture window that looked up Steeple Hill. They were the only humans that could see Lily and the other fairies. That was only because they believed.   Lily, with wings the color of amethyst, confided in them that her royal cousin, Ramden, who possessed powerful magic, had come to help in the search to locate the injured bluebird’s family.

Ramden, after meeting Magnolia and June, decided to allow the girls to help locate the bird's frantic family. The girls, ever eager for an adventure, readily agreed. After all, the human girls had ways of searching fairies didn’t, and fairies had ways of searching Magnolia and June didn’t.

Using a magnifying glass and a map drawn by Lily on a fallen oak leaf, they searched the sprawling garden surrounding Steeple Hill, considering the hill was too steep for humans.

Ramden's magic guided the other fairies of the forest towards Steeple Hill. The hill, a steep climb even for human legs, proved treacherous for everyone.

June and Magnolia, their hearts pounding with excitement and a growing sense of urgency, continued carefully searching so as not to step on any of the other search parties.  

Suddenly there was a cluster of activity at the summit of Steeple Hill. The fairies of the forest, along with Ramden’s magical powers, had spotted a cluster of anxious bluebirds, chirping incessantly. Their distress was palpable. Ramden and Lily led the family of bluebirds back down Steeple Hill to her tiny cabin outside June and Magnolia’s human house. Little Bluebird was still sitting on Lily’s pink velveteen pillow in her warm bedroom. 

Ramden instructed Lily to bring Bluebird outside, where he spread his magic all about the human girls, circling them as he called upon the other fairies to do the same. With each circle, Ramden’s magical golden dust was shrinking Magnolia and June into tiny human fairies. June and Magnolia kept looking down at themselves and then up at the huge trees as they continued shrinking until they fit inside Lily’s precious log house at the base of Steeple Hill. Ramden instructed the girls what to do.

Carefully, Magnolia and June placed the injured bird amongst its family. A collective chirp, a symphony of relief, filled the air as the family reunited. Ramden's magical lights pulsed brightly, a wave of healing energy washing over the small creature. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the garden, Lily, with a grateful flutter of her wings, whispered her thanks. The sisters, hearts full, were whirled back into their human-sized bodies and returned home, the memory of their magical rescue a treasure to be cherished.

And Ramden, exhausted, first blessed all the forest fairies before their journeys back to their homes.  He gently hugged Lily, and before he backed into his golden home, he firmly instructed Lily to get ahold of Lucien to make sure his next arrival when summoned would be a bit of an easier ride out than the last one. And with that he was magically placed back into his emergency golden glass secure magical space.

By Julianna Rowe

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Sacred Plateau.......by Julianna Rowe

 

These rock plateaus are similar to where I go within my mind to hear from the Spirit. And I hear the same thing every time. But I see something different each time.

When I am on "my plateau" alone with no outside earthly interference, the Spirit watches me, feels me, hears my mind, and senses my inner needs. Then Spirit asks me who I feel would be a benefit to me on my plateau?(Life) That time I stood without exact thoughts. I could think of no human I would want standing next to me that day. I did not speak; I was just standing quietly, thinking Spirit would help me, but that did not happen. I kept thinking of people I would like to talk or visit with, but nothing came to my mind. 

That is when a small bird appeared next to me, then another, and another. More small spirit animals came. A precious deer walked gently toward the birds and me. Then one dog, and someone in a wheelchair. It wasn't me; it was a man, but I could only see him from the back even though he was facing me. My visions are somewhat like dreams. They do not follow the earthly rules. 

 I was happy and very peaceful. 

The animals brought me genuine peace and joy. 

I don't have to count from 5 down to 1 to wake from my vision. It just is. It's within me and comes in technicolor when I remember to go there. 

No one is allowed on my platuea with me that isnt a good person. That is the key to my vision in the first place. If those who would not do me well try to visit my plateau, they disappear in a mist. Spirit doesn't allow them, and that is when I get Spirit's confirmations or otherwise, and we usually agree. It never hurts to ask Spirit, who is larger and wiser than I... This was one of those days. 

Now I only have to learn to listen better. 

 

About JB by Julianna Rowe

About JB.

Recently, I was sitting in my kitchen thinking. Mainly because I forgot my phone in the other room and didn’t want to go get it. I live alone, so the door was open to the porch, and I could see clearly through my apartment to the outside world and parking lot. The foggy scene brought to mind another time.  The day JB brought me a stalk or three of dried corn stalks. He was eighty or more years "old." It was some twenty years ago when I looked out that same kind of window I was looking out today that brought back the memory. There was a small incline off the main sidewalk, and JB decided to take the grassy incline versus the cement sidewalk with four steps down. I suspect because the base of the stalks were uneven and might have caused him to fall.  He once told me he never broke any bones when he fell because he learned how to roll when he went down.  Then he would snicker, and his dimples would become deeper and sweeter.  Falling on cement didn’t give much room for rolling so he opted for the shortcut of the three-foot grassy slanted incline. I recall it as though it were yesterday.  I held my breath when I realized he was too dang old to be doing what I had asked.  Which was, “Dad, would you bring me some corn stalks and a couple of bales of hay for my porch decorations.”  It was October and every year he brought me the stalks, hay, and pumpkins.  But this year he was struggling.  I felt bad watching him attempt to be the man he used to be.  And I wonder if I appreciated him in the manner, he was due.  Now that I am headed toward that age and trying to remain able to do the things I did last year I am reminded.  Maybe my children will appreciate me more after I am gone.  Am I laughing?  Yes, just a little because one never knows. All one can do is their best, like JB did staggering down that incline carrying three large corn stalks, turning around, and going back to his little Chevy Love truck and making the trip again and again with heavy bales of hay for his only daughter.

So, there I sat staring out the window that brought back to life a beautiful story from days gone by.  I think leaving my cell phone out of the room more often might be a good idea.  I could never find a memory like this on my phone.  Below are the original stalks and bales. 

A Piece of My Life by Julianna Rowe

                                                         A PIECE OF MY LIFE

I’ve been with a multitude of men in my life,

In retrospect they’ve brought me nothing but strife.

I tried more than once to make that dance last,

But in the end they were part of my past.

I didn’t learn much from any of them.

I already knew more than most of those men

And not one turned out to be a “Gem.”

A football player, an Army Vet, a finance banker I’ll never forget,

Some had money, some had fame,

Most simply wanted to play loves game.

Some were uneducated,

And some were hippie related.

I loved a couple of them and they loved me back,

But mostly just wanted to hop in the sack.

Men have an “Extension” if you get what I mean,

But most have no pension, that would make me glean.

They walk a good walk,

And they talk a good talk.

After the sack, they slither away in the grass,

Which pretty much makes them a total ass.

I had one or two I could sincerely call kind.

But those two didn’t have much of a mind!

There were no mansions in my life,

I never found one as funny as Matt Rife.

My sense of humor called in the same,

Yet none of them had it, and that was a shame.

Most straddled their women like they do a Harley,

They would finish the "job,” but only barely.

What can I say, I’ve lost my respect.

For most of them are nothing but a wreck.

They’ve given me children then ran away,

Not a damn one of them felt they should stay,

Like snakes in the grass, they slithered away.

That’s not to say that all were bad,

But it does leave little to yearn and that’s pretty sad.

I see fat ugly women with big diamond rings,

Where did I go wrong? I don’t have all that bling.

Most would agree this world ain’t easy.

Watch out for the sheep dressed in sleazy.

They are hiding in the bushes and in the cracks,

They are evil spirits who leave their tracks

They'll put a knife in your heart and tracks on your soul,

Keep your mind and eyes open and take no black coal.

They will destroy you, if you close your eyes,

Never allow them to cause your demise.

Walk taller, laugh harder, and make more money.

So, you won’t stray if’n they call you honey.

Needless to say, I have made my own way,

Not without troubles, but I’m happy anyway.

I love the song, “Is That All There Is,”

But I’ll keep dancing, even if it is.

As you can see, I make silly rhymes,

I’m happy writing novels and stories of life’s times.

I’m on TikTok, YouTube, and have lots of money.

I dare anymore strange men to call me honey!

If you come near me, I require BLING….

Bling of the heart and bling in your soul,

But more importantly, you must be whole!

So, as you can see by what I have written,

I’ve caused myself trouble when becoming smitten.

And if I’m meant to be alone,

Please write on my Tombstone.

“Here lay a woman who made it on her own.”

Julianna Rowe – 2024

                                 

 

 

Before it's Too Late by Julianna Rowe

 Before it’s Too Late

I dislike sitting alone with so much inside….

My brain wants to run but instead it hides.

So many pictures flash before my eyes,

My youth, my loves, the deceased past cries.

There’s a movie, a book, a photo needs sharing,

Yet I sit in silence, can’t catch my bearings.

They removed a body part that helped me function,

Gave me a pill that’s caused creative disfunction.

I tell “them,” my ears are ringing and I can’t sing anymore,

Be patient they say, but know it won’t be like before.

They order the bloodwork and it comes back normal,

Yet I continue to feel quite horrible.  

They took it out and threw it away,

My butterfly thyroid and now I must pay.

The cancer was a pin head if even that,

The Doc got paid $10,000 Stat!

Me, I was dumped and they rarely checked back.

It’s been two years since I wrote a book,

 On the Amazon Best Seller list is what those meds took!

I want to be me again before it’s too late,

Because there’s more to write, before I hit that Pearly Gate.

 

PRISON: A Warehouse for Troubles Souls by Clutch Cargoe (2011)

 

I reside in a warehouse for troubled souls.  

My family is helping me reach out to others who may need my wisdom. A wisdom learned from the pain of living with angry, ill-mannered humans and from my own errors that brought me to this no win, no way out, unfriendly neighborhood.

If any of my writings help you out, I would be pleased to hear from you.

"From the shit-pit to the clear waters." By Clutch Cargoe (2011)

 Observing 101  

Even though I do not care for all the negative people in here I am forced to be around them.  So, in an attempt to try to cope and understand I have had to do some serious observing.  As I have said I believe in Karma because I have witnessed it in action.  For a long time, I went around saying I do not like the negative inmates.  I don't want them in my community, (prison term for clicks) I thought - eff them, I don't want those that won’t help themselves around me.  I also noticed I was being treated negatively and I couldn't figure that out.  Here I was trying to be a better human being and staying out of all trouble areas yet not much was changing for me.  I couldn't even get much help from my family on the outside.  Why?  Then it dawned on me.  Same as the early morning sun rising from the darkness. It was KARMA at its finest!!   I was getting what I was giving.  So....how to change this huh?

                                              A T T I T U D E!!

The saying goes, change your attitude and change your circumstances.  So, I tried it.  I started to view those in here I disliked differently.  Who am I to judge lest I be judged.  It is their life journey.  All I can do is offer positive input to negative situations and hopefully help them on their path from negative to positive.  Or as some say "from the shit-pit to the clear waters."

It does not hurt you or I to be nice to those we dislike.  Actually, it is a powerful Karma that you will get back what you put out.  And life circumstances will start to change for you.

                                   Make a decision and the Universe will honor it

Out for now....Clutch

A Peaceful Journey by Clutch Cargoe (My incarcerated son)

 A Peaceful Journey...

Greetings and salutations from inside.

Isn't worrying about the negativity of others a massive waste of time and energy?  That equates to passing judgment on them.  telling them that what they're doing is incorrect.  Hey, perhaps it's what they should do.  like be kind and acknowledge that they are free to feel, act, and think as they like.  Instead, even if you disagree, support.  Perhaps all it takes for someone else to reach their destination in life is a little encouragement.  This is what a kind deed is all about. Why?  because, despite your disagreement with their viewpoint, you are respecting the rights of others.  Give as you would like to receive because you want someone to do nice deeds for you.  It will make a complete circle back!

I have learned to respect and help even those I dislike or don't understand or even fear, with an understanding that it's their life journey and you have yours so to co-mingle and co-exist peacefully and also have kind deeds and respect returned, you must give it first.  If someone rejects it so what, move on in positive harmony.

Hope this has helped you.

Til' next time be well, be positive, and be open minded.            Clutch

 

A Response to My Daughters Question...by Clutch Cargoe (2011)

 A Response to One of My Daughters.....

 Life is a learning curve,

None of us get it right all the time.

We all can use some guidance from time to time.

Nothing to be embarrassed about.

Asking for help shows you want to grow, through learning by asking

When you ask for help it doesn't make you look bad,

It makes you look strong

For realizing and understanding you need assistance in certain areas.

Hope this helps,

Dad loves you

Control Does Not Equal Power!! by Clutch Cargoe (Written by my son who is incarcerated )

 Control Does Not Equal Power!!!

 

Control Does Not Equal Power!!!

 

Greetings and well wishes once again.

When I was younger, I always tried to control the actions of others around me and let me point out to them how they could do things differently or how they did or are doing it wrong! I thought that by directing their actions I could get MY desired outcome thru them.  Of course that was without considering their personal rights.

Truth of the matter is I was not in control of my own life and emotions, thus I attempted to live through others by attempting to control how they thought and what they could and couldn't do.  It was not until later in life that I realized how unhealthy this was and is.

Everyone is free to feel, think, talk, and act however they like.  Even while you may provide them helpful suggestions and advice, it is ultimately up to them whether to take advantage of them!  And if they choose not to listen to you it is not a personal attack or disrespect towards you, rather it is them exercising their right to choose for themselves the direction of their own life. (path)  Whether you agree or not.  And if they do choose to do differently than you advised...... you should not put them down, speak ill of them, rather you should move on with your own life's decisions.  Sometimes this is doubly hard if you are in a relationship and this is a boyfriend/girlfriend situation.  That is when you tend to think the other party does not love you because they are not doing as you want when in truth maybe you don't love them for who they are. Or they may be reacting to your choices.  Either way, if you are trying to change and control them there is a strong possibility you are not in control of your own life.  Therefore, you may feel the need to direct and control the people around you so you can live thru them.

Here in prison, I see this daily in the majority of the people I am surrounded by which has caused me to take a good hard look at the situation and learn from it.  If this is happening in your life, I can only suggest you analyze the problems and attempt a rational solution without degrading or abusing any one's rights.  Sometimes you must let a loved one do as they are going to do without arguing over something that neither of you are going to come out the better from.

Hopefully this has helped .....   be well, be safe and have a nice day.

Until next time....Clutch out

A Day on the Inside by Clutch Cargoe

 Inside - a Day - Inside

Greetings and welcome to yet another Clutch observation..... As the title suggests, this view is coming from inside a maximum-security prison!

To survive inside these walls, I have been forced to study people, their mannerisms, habits and traits.  So, I know how to deal within each individual or group safely.  Prison does not allow open rehabilitation. Inmates will attack you if they think you are doing the right thing.

Out there you have consequences and situations daily, but not on the same plain as inside.

In here it is a much different situation.  I am surrounded by society's worst!!  Most of whom were never taught any kind of manners, moral, consideration, respect, self-confidence, problem solving abilities and they severely lack communication skills.  They are angry at the world and blame everyone and everything else for their problems and situations because they do not know how to take responsibility.  Due to this mental state these inmates try to control others around them.

Since they do not have any of the above skills when confronted they do not understand what the next step is so they get angry and then they try to handle the situation with brute force.  (Fighting and threatening physical harm) It's all they know.  That said, one who wants no trouble must walk around on egg shells constantly so as not to offend any of the angry people locked up inside!  They are looking for any reason to confront you and try to prove they are better and stronger than you. I guess so that they feel they are somebody!! These prisoners attempt to manipulate those around them as a result of their mental state.

The people around me have a variety of personalities. The most of them are not good. As depressing as it may sound.  It's a pretty tense scenario here.  They say stress causes the body to age and I can attest to that.  It’s rough to walk around here wondering if some mental inmate will wig-out (freak out) on you if they perceive you glanced at them wrong.

Rewinding to the various types of characters that surround a prisoner.

Some inmates roam from one person to another talking, questioning, looking for any type of soap opera information they can twist around and use to instigate conflict so to watch it unfold.  They get a kick out of it.  There are stalkers of female guards.  There are habitual liars, thieves, rapists, murderers, child molesters, and women beaters and much much more all with different mental issues and views on each situation.  Some of their lives are so out of control they try to control the television and every show that comes on.  All because they do not know how or won’t take responsibility and start to rebuild their lives.

Conversely, some individuals do transform and undergo rehabilitation; but, they are unable to publicly do so since the "life-hating" prisoners in their vicinity will not have it.  That being said:  For those of us who truly want to change, like myself, who has been clean and sober, no trouble at all, for ten years, we have to be like chameleons while walking amongst the haters of life.

Those men talk only about more crimes they will commit in the future.  They talk about getting even.  I could write a book about what I have seen and heard. I guess I am in a way.

But let me add that there are some good changed people in here, and some innocent ones also.

For now Clutch out…..

What is Your Right? by Clutch Cargoe (2011)

 What is Your Right?

Greetings and welcome once again.  Today's Clutch observations regarding: "What are your rights?" Are your rights in conflict with what others consider right?  I have noticed that, both in here and out there. Everyone thinks and believes their way is the right way. I believe this is partly responsible for the conflicts we have with one another in society.  And in lockup also.  Mind you, this is only my point of view, which may be the    same as some of yours yet different from others. Use what you can use of my observations.

I have noticed, (observed) especially in prison and somewhat out there, from what I recall, that people attempt to get others to conform to their point of view because they believe it to be right.

People are all different; they have been raised differently and come from different genes as well as spiritual backgrounds.

I suggest what you believe may not be what others believe, and what you think is right may not be right for others and their circumstances or what their path in life may need.

What we need to realize is that everyone has a right to be right in what they believe to be right.

Okay, let’s break this down.  This is America, and we have a right to do, and think, and believe, and say, and have whatever opinion we so choose.  As long as these rights do not harm others.

So if I want to believe the earth is flat or aliens are our creators, I have that right to and be secure in my beliefs, and no one has the right to attack my beliefs based on the issue that my beliefs differ from yours.  What would you care if I believed differently than you?? Let me ask you this.  Would you want someone to tell you your religion is wrong and you should convert?  Of course, you wouldn't.  No one likes others telling them what they should or shouldn't do.  Yet we are quick to do this very thing because, basically, we have no respect for others’ rights and freedom and not enough self-respect for ourselves?!

How is this, you ask?  Simply put, if we respected and honored others rights, we would not get bent out of shape when we encountered others who were different from ourselves..... No matter the reason, we continued to try to change people to our belief system.  We don't have that right!  Each person must follow his or her own path.  Who are you or I to not allow the other this right?  To live their life as they see fit.  My best advice is to worry about your own path.  Strive to better yourself.  Trying to change others is like spinning your wheels on ice.  Where does this leave you?  I am not saying you should not help others if you are asked.  I am saying it would be good to know the difference between when and when not to.

Now the part of no self-respect or, rather, self-confidence.  Usually, people with a lack of self-respect and self-confidence are simply unhappy with their own lives.  These people attempt to guide and control others lives due to the fact that their own life feel beyond (out of) control; therefore, there the need to control someone else, which allows for a feeling of worthiness and importance. (Whether the control is through manipulation or even "poor me" syndrome,)  If this is a part of your life, there may be self-confidence issues that need to be addressed.

There is an old saying:  "If you don't love yourself, you cannot love another authentically.  Because if you are not good for yourself, how can you be good for someone else?

Looking at ourselves first is the key that leads us to be responsible and accountable for our actions and reactions, either through the use of words or physical means.

I had to go through this learning process the hard way, on my own.  And now I am trying to help others - all of you readers who may need assistance.  I cannot do it for you.  You have to do it for yourself.  All I can do is offer my opinions and advice.  I can only hope you will read all my writings and apply what is helpful to you on your own journey through your specific life situations.

to be continued..... 

Picture is one of my drawings.

ANGER is one letter short of (D)ANGER

 ANGER is one letter short of DANGER!

 

Greetings and hello again...Today I would like to talk about anger and the reflections I have about this from the inside of this maximum-security prison, and from my own life when I was younger.  Hopefully some of my insights and observations will help someone out there or someone you know with any difficulties they might be having in this area...

I touched on this topic in one of my last writings called, "The Power We Give Words."  So, let's start with me.  As a child I remember being angry with everyone and everything. The specifics are irrelevant, but to allow the reader a better understanding, everyone around me thought I should live life according to their beliefs. Family member against family member world tell me the other is no good and lies...

I went through years of not knowing the truth about anything in complete confusion.  Everyone was selfish to their own needs and wants and what they believed was right.  I see this today by and from the inmates I am surrounded by.  They think it’s their way or no way.  They are right and everyone else is wrong.  I think many parents do this with their children vs allowing the child to grow and have a mind of his or her own.

I became a very angry child because I couldn't get the answers that made sense and no one would let me be me. I learned quickly that negative attention was better than no attention!  I got to a place in life where I cared about nothing except drinking and getting high.  You see, misery loves company.

I went to jail and prison several times.  I got high in lockup and didn't care.  They made me do drug classes and anger management.  But there is no such thing as rehabilitation is you are not ready.  And I was in self-destruct mode.  Nothing anyone said or did would matter until I decided not to be angry anymore and to live life differently.  Unfortunately, that was not until I was wrongly convicted that I decided to change.

I had relationships with women and some girlfriends, but none worked out because we would try to control one another, and that never works.  I didn't love myself.  Hell, I didn't even like myself, so how could I be good for anyone else if I'm not good for myself.  That had to change and it eventually did.  When I received this current prison sentence I started a lot of self-analysis, watching, and listening  to others.  You can learn a lot that way.  I watched the actions of the ones I was surrounded by - SOCIETIES WORST!  Wow, I thought, I talked like that. Wow, I acted like that.  Wow, I was an ass-hole.  A self- centered one at that.

I learned you have two choices, and I tell others in here that. One is to admit you’re a piece of chit and that you really effed up and try to rebuild and make your word good again because without honor, trust, and worthiness, you are nothing.

Or you can become a braggart.  I did this, I did that, and I had x number of women.  You get a false high from the so-called attention inside from blowing yourself up. That happens on the inside and out there.  And then you start to believe your own lies. The hardest for most is the first option. To face the truth and take responsibility for yourself and your own actions.  This is what I did.  And then I decided not to be angry anymore.

Life is different and better for me now, even though I am locked up.  And all I had to do was stop being angry and stop blaming everyone else for my own thoughts, feelings, and actions.  The hard part is that now I must win it and be responsible. Before, I could just be made and make everything everyone else's problem or fault.

I'd like to give you an example of this before I move on:  This guy I know of here in the prison was making homemade wine.  He was punished by going to the hole. (Solitary) When he came out, he said to me, "Clutch, I never would have gone to solitary if so and so hadn't snitched!"

I said, "Are you serious?"

He said, "Yes!"

I proceeded to tell him he didn't go to the "hole" because someone told on him, he went because he told on himself.  He appeared to be confused, (imagine that) and reiterated it was the snitches fault. I said I disagreed.  Now he is becoming angry, which is a normal response from people who don't understand.  Anger and violence are a normal first defense. Then I asked him if he knew where he was at, and he responded with an affirmative. I asked if he was aware that 80% of the people in here will snitch on you, and he again responded with an affirmative.  So, I continued, considering we were getting somewhere.  My next comment was,  "So if you are aware that 80% are snitches, why did you tell most of that 80% that you were making wine and then you showed them your product? Now whose fault is it that you went to the hole?"  You told on yourself, and you need to take responsibility for your own actions.

I probably saved the rat from getting beat up that day, but more importantly, I believe he "got it" and not to take the easy way out every time.

Some of the "ones" here don't care so much for me because I am so brutally honest, and because the truth hurts and because they are faced with having to do the right thing or not.

So, when we are confronted with something we don't understand, don't

Oh, that's right, I forgot, to ask questions might be to admit to others, we are dumb....Obviously not having enough self-confidence causes this action and reaction.

My observation from my personal life and the people around me is that no one has been taught morals, principals, respect, understanding, politeness, and a whole host of other things.

Until next time…..Clutch

Baseball Talk by Clutch Cargoe (son of Julianna Rowe)

 My Texas Friend Talks Baseball with Her Son.....

Kids do not learn from being continually told what to do. They do not find their path when someone else (parents included) imposes their beliefs on them 24/7. I lived with someone who had to have it their way always, (controlling) while I was growing up.

Children learn by being asked questions and shown the consequences of their decisions and actions. Sometimes they have negative results, sometimes positive. What and which do you think will stay with them depends on how each is presented.

My Texas friend and I were conversing by phone one day. She told me about her children, who are very into baseball and play every season. She told me of an incident when, after a game, she and her son got into the car, and her son said to her, "Mom, what did I do wrong in the game?" I would rather his self-confidence would have told him what he did right and therefore he wouldn't have been so immediately worried about what he did wrong. But then, that is how society works with these children. It should be viewed more as a game where we all make mistakes we can learn from! OK back to the boy's question to his mother: "How did I do?" My friend and I discussed an alternative answer for her to use. I suggested that when the boy asks questions, she asks him questions instead of giving him the answers. By giving him the answers, she is not allowing the child to grow and learn to make personal decisions on his own as he is relying on Mom's answer. And by Mom telling him what he did wrong, that takes all the responsibility off him for his actions or inactions.

Ask him what he thinks he did right or wrong. Get him to analyze his actions for the better or the worse. That gives him control to decide, learn from, and make adjustments, which will build his confidence. It doesn't matter if he thinks he did good or bad. What matters is that he is analyzing and discussing his actions from his perspective, which builds his confidence and teaches him how to navigate problems, versus Mom and Dad or whoever answering how it should or shouldn't be done, which turns out to be "the easy way out" for the boy who later in life cannot solve problems and may become angry because he has no self-confidence. I am certainly not saying he will be this way. This is only an example. I am also not saying this is the answer for everyone, but it could be a useful tool to help. Thank you for your time and for reading my thoughts.

Be safe. Be well. Be Happy, and communicate! Clutch out til' next time

Back Into Your Communities with Messed up Attitudes by Clutch Cargoe

 Back Into Your Communities with Messed up Attitudes...

This is actually an excerpt from the post, "My Way is Not Always the Right Way."

Many of the men in here (Maximum Security Prison) will ask and ask and ask relentlessly like a child until you give in and give them some sauce or something to eat.  It is easier to just give it to them so they go away instead of argue or fight over something that is yours.  Reason why? These guys will try to beat you up and take what you have if you don't give it to them.  Then if your honest and tell them they are acting like a child they get offended and claim you have disrespected them, try to fight you because they didn't get what they wanted. They demand respect but have no clue what respect is or how to give it to someone else.

There are those in here that know the difference but the majority doesn't, and they aren't learning it which means they will go back out into the communities with the same messed up attitudes.

Makes me want to go live way out in the country, back to basics.....eat good non-processed food from the land.

Old Doc Whittenbach by Clutch Cargoe (Son of Julianna Rowe)

 Old Doc Whittenbach     

No computers on the inside for typing or research.  Only approved emails.  That said, I am getting writer’s cramp making ready the material my family posts for me on this website.

I have been spending some time talking to my new doctor friend his name is Dr Whittenbach. He gives me medical advice as he specialized in internal medicine. He is a very knowledgeable person which is hard to come by in here. He speaks German, French and one other language I forgot.  I am trying to help him where I can.  I suspect he will die in here and he seems grateful to have a friend.  A rare thing inside these walls. I told him he could give me some info if anyone needed to be notified

should something happen to him. You see he was at hospital for over week last time and not allowed to call or e-mail anyone.  Prison officials didn't notify his family, so I said we would help out if possible.

I told him just because some of society's worst are here, it doesn't mean we all bad. There are some good guys here.  He said, "That's nice to know, thank you."  Now that is a word not heard but a couple times a year at this prison.

The doctor and I talked about morals and such.   He said he is from an area where country morals changed though the changing of my thoughts.

He smiles, pats me on shoulder, and says, "Very good Clutch, you get it now."  I responded that it only took forty some years.

Very nice fellow whose been a doctor for 35 years.  This is an alien planet to him in here, but it must be something he needs to experience before his next life and moving on....... he agrees.

Yet....caution is near because there are no friends inside.  Trust is nonexistent for each one is out for a way out and lying certainly is not beyond any of them. They are called "snitches."  They will say you confessed to being the rapist or murderer or whatever necessary to get moved to a less dangerous facility.

Prison is Not What You Think it is.... by Clutch Cargoe (relative of Julianna Rowe)

PRISON, is not what you think it is.....

Prison is definably not what you, the general public thinks it is, nor is it what I thought it would be.  It is confusing as "Hell" to say the least. I am currently doing twenty four years. Every waking moment is like walking on egg shells while trying to better myself.  Believe me when I tell you there is no rehabilitation in prison.  This is nothing more than a warehouse for troubled souls.

I spent most of my life growing up on a farm where we treated our animals better than I am being treated.....

The system, nor the inmates will allow a person to change.  I know.  As I have changed, I am no longer the person on drugs and alcohol who did not care about anything.

I made a conscious decision to be a better person, an honest, respectful, caring human being which in this setting is constantly being suppressed.  The system thinks a prisoner claiming to be changed (rehabilitated) is a con, a sham.  Therefore, I have been permanently labeled, and because of that permanent label "bad guy con" I am denied, denied, denied every and anything I request. That is the systems perspective.

The inmates consider change, kindness, and caring a weakness and will prey upon said weakness (meaning myself) and will come at (me) in any way they can.

Therefore, a person wanting to change in prison, is basically forced by both sides to be a "bad guy." (Illiterate prisoner inmate terminology for someone trying to be a decent person.)

If you refuse to do drugs, alcohol, or fighting inside these walls you are ostracized, picked on, beat up, shoved around.

I have lived inside these walls for eleven of the twenty years I was sentenced to. I can find no positive way to live in here.  I have made my decision not to use drugs or be violent in any way anymore. Yet inside these walls the system punishes for doing good.  This is a no-win situation.

I hide in my cell as much as possible, so I am not forced to deal with all the negative attitudes and drama.  Most of the men in here have not been nor are taught manners, respect, understanding, compassion, or empathy. They are angry people and want everyone around them to be miserable also.  Having to hide in a cell is not only a miserable existence, but it makes me turn into an anti-social person who doesn't like people because of what I am surrounded by.

Honestly, I would not want most of these inmates released to my neighborhood.  I listen to their conversations and see their attitudes.  All negative and violent.  Robbing people, raping women, drugs and booze talk.  These are supposed to be grown men, yet they jump around like children shooting each other with their fingers as gun props.  All this is, is a warehouse for grown up little kids.  Long legged men, (boys) who have not been taught how to deal with emotions so they react negatively with fighting, steeling and knocking others down anyway they can.

From listening to these angry men for so many years, I think I understand them some.  I went through "the change" and learned to humble myself.  They have not done that yet.  To them humbling is weakness.

A person has two choices in here.  One is to admit they are a piece of shit (that they have burned most of their bridges,) then find a way to rebuild their lives and regain honor and make their word worth something again. If your word is worthless, so are you.

Most of the men inside chose choice #2.  They lie by telling magnified stories about themselves.  They brag about drugs, women and robbing which gains them attention from other inmates who will listen. Unfortunately, these actions give them their old drug "rushes" as well as they feel important.  With each new story being glorified more they climb higher on the prison inmate hierarchy ladder of lies and hate.  Those are the leaders who lead the lessors and pick on the inmates trying to better themselves.  The liars win in here.

The old saying, "Misery loves company," rings true inside the walls!!  Prison is an "all boys soap opera!"  They do not understand the basic fact that their own actions have put them in this situation!  It is all too easy for them to blame the government, or a jailhouse snitch for their misfortune as they are totally unable to take responsibility for their own actions.

These men have barely heard the word KARMA nor do they understand it. To highlight this, not long ago, an inmate I know was let out of S.H.U. (Special Housing Unit, a prison inside a prison for those who break the rules) He said to me, "I wouldn't have gone to SHU and got in trouble if ++++++ hadn't told on me."  I responded with, "Are you serious?"  He looked at me blankly and said, "Well yeah."  I told him the other guy didn't tell on him, he told on himself.  He said a few blankity blank words to me and I nervously responded by telling him with controlled strength that HE WAS CONFUSED!  His response to that was, "Huh?"   This ignorance is what I live with twenty-four hours a day.  I read book after book to learn and try to keep a part of myself on the outside and sane among the insane.

Stay well, Clutch Cargoe

"DUMPING" by Clutch Cargoe Passed onto you: by Julianna Rowe

 "DUMPING"................by Clutch Cargoe

I haven't posted anything for my son Clutch for a while. Time tends to get away from us all especially when someone you love is serving TIME.  I had emailed him the other day while in a less then happy mood.  In fact I was rather sad.

I decided to share some of his wisdom from now on.  I rec'd this after telling him I was sorry for sharing my sadness.  This was his response:

It's okay, I understand you were "dumping" sorrow. People need that sometimes.

I do it too. The trick is don't get mad when someone dumps on you. Understand they getting it off their chest and mind and be thankful you were there for them to dump also.

They chose you - what an honor ;-]

Be kind, love well, and move on. Dump when you need to.

The problem comes in.... when 2 people try to dump on each other at same time. That never works as each one feels disrespected and the neither is paying enough attention to the hurt coming from the other. So in any dumping situation one must choose to be the bigger person and allow the other to dump doing so with kindness and love, which avoids arguments.

Thus therein lies the problem due to the fact most people are so concerned with their own emotions

they become selfish and want to put the other down and this happens due to the lack of empathy - understanding – compromise and most of all the lack of understanding communication. As most of us do that incorrectly hence all the life problems.

At least that's how I see it. 

Have nice day....

Your friends will make ya laugh ;-][

HENRY by Julianna Rowe

 LAST NIGHT, I MET HENRY:

My friend Jude and I were out about the local pubs one evening.  Jude had been on a one-man mission for some time to find me a partner to spend my remaining days with.  Not that I asked. Jude had entertained dating sites in my name, selfies……magazine ads, and computer sites, all to no avail.   Not that I am chopped liver, but Jude lacks the qualities needed to write and or present me properly.  Heck, Jude couldn't even take an appropriate photo of me.  Not that I offered him any assistance on his one-man plight because I didn’t care. It had become a joke between friends.  We all wondered what would Jude come up with next.

One evening we were out and sitting at a large round table with other friends.  Most people in our circle knew about Jude’s obsession with finding me a good man for whatever reason.  Our other friends were making jokes because Jude had pointed to some younger men for me to consider. The responses returned to him were more comical than his choices of youth for me.                                                                                                             

And then I noticed two elderly men walking toward the establishment.  I looked at Jude and pointed to one older man who had caught sight of me as well.  I sent a smile directly into his space.  Before the smile could ever arrive, Jude was on him!  Jude pointed to me as he whispered God only knows what.  At the same moment, my smile hit and I received a genuine one back.  As Jude returned to the table, the older fellow and his buddy sat at a smaller round table within smiling distance. 

“What did you say to him, Jude?”  

“Oh, I told him you were looking for a man!”

“You did not!”

“His name is Henry. The rest is up to you dear lady.”

I didn’t have to do anything because Henry excused himself from his friend, walked over to me, leaned his tall lanky body over, and whispered let's take a walk as he gently placed his arm under mine and helped me to my feet and we walked. All chattering at our round table had ceased including Jude’s whose incessant talk never stopped. They watched us walk away.

We walked and talked until we came upon a large old Victorian house.  Henry said come here, look.  What I saw was a line of electric bikes hanging on racks that looked like old cow stanchions.  Henry told me he invented them, the bikes.  I said but no one is using them.  He said, Right.    We walked on and toward iron gates which he opened and there before me was the most beautiful but uncared for courtyard.  Statues of a romantic nature //blessed the area but were in dire need of cleaning. We passed and went into the house.  A woman was sitting in a chair holding a basket.  She appeared to be Indian.  Then a young man walked into the room.  I mentally guessed he was fourteen.  I looked over toward Henry with questioning eyes.  He responded that he was the caretaker of these people.  Then a teenage girl walked in.  I waited for more to walk in but none did.  

We walked the rest of the house with no words spoken.  The home needed a woman’s touch as well as some serious cleaning in all areas.

He said I want you to take care of them with me.  Money is not an issue, you can do whatever you wish with the house.  I am signing it over to you but I want you to know there may be problems.   My children might try to take it away from you upon my passing.  I will do my best to make sure that doesn’t happen.  And then he would do a little dance around me and smile with those beautiful white teeth.

He added I might have to take care of him as he was gaining in years.   I agreed without hesitation.  He looked just like Dick Van Dyke.  He danced just like him too.

So, with one little walk, and a smile from deep in the Universe, I knew I would never have to worry again about food, housing, cars, tires, healthcare, or dirty nursing (dying mills) homes.  

I was a born caretaker so this was perfect for me.  Betty, the Indian was our cook and the other children were a joy.  

I woke up HAPPY.  I am glad I met Henry and hope he will materialize into my space on Earth.  Because Henry made me Happy.