Push UP

Image Credit: Unknown

Sisyphus

 

 

 

 

 

Push Up..

Muscles flex and waiver

Chin down, head straight..now lift.

Steady. Hold. Fingers Stuck.

Elbows in. Back straight. Wrists strong.

Drop

Chin to the ground. Breathe.

Push

up.

Up!

Hold. Steady. Toes stuck.

Arms firm.

Shoulders strong

Stomach tight

Bottom in.

Hold it. Hold it!

Down.

Slow.

Easy.

Chin Down!

Flat on the Ground.

Breathe.

Relax.

Now..

PUSH!

PUSH!

UP..

 

Think of its motion as mirroring the cyclical, up-and-down nature of existence, almost Sisyphean in movement. Often, as in life, you are pushing against your own weight, seeking to overcome self-imposed limits. To perform it well, it takes backbone – both literally and in terms of fortitude.                         Sam McManis

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Red Robin

red robin

Red…Red Robin…why won’t you come on over and play with me?

Red…Red Robin…why won’t you please come over and play with me?

The Hawk is long gone.

The Cat’s are sleeping.

The Mice are hiding.

Oh..please..Pretty Please. Red Robbin..will you come and play today. I promise you won’t have to stay.

 

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Today

Visiting the Stone.

Visiting the Stone.

It’s fascinating how the mind keeps track of pain that the body and conscious swears that it doesn’t recollect. (Missing you PaPa) But, I’m getting better.

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The Lie

 

"Lie To Me"

Image Credit: Ian Leino

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Please…just let me be tonight..

Whatever my offense..hold me fault tomorrow .  I need my rest tonight.  Please
Consciousness shakes my sleep. Truth slaps my cheek..yet at your forehead I lay close.

Face to face…

we got lost

in the fallacy of who we wanted to be..

never to face the reality of who we truly were.

Time caught  us

Time tripped us

we slipped.. we forgot…

Not able to distinguish The Lie from The TRUTH

until The Truth found us.

(your truth first)

You call… I answer…The Truth. Cowardly available.

It Never mattered who you were..(I never cared)…I was content on the lie..as long as I never had to confess it.

These wicked escapades…
I trifle..I bore..I explode
I like… (I think)

Tangible and Colorful. Spontaneous and Adventurous.

But…somehow the sweet just isn’t sweet enough.  Your medicine doesn’t fix…and The Lie can no longer hold me.

 

 

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Time for some upgrades.

 

Image Credit: The Body Transformation

Some of us have made choices that we’re not so proud of. We may be in a job that we don’t want. We may be in relationship or a bed that we shouldn’t be in.

We have regrets and feel stuck or trapped in our life paths; as if (WE) don’t know the way out. We suffer (only) because we refuse to accept the truth of our worthiness.  We downplay who we are and therefore we choose the downgraded model. We make choices out of insecurities then we blame “God” or others because we are unhappy with our decision.

You’re at a crossroads today! Today is the day to make a completely selfish choice. Choose wisely and not beneath you. Upgrade (YOUR) life.  It’s what you deserve and rightly so.

 

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Night Navigator

"Concorde" subway station by night @ Paris

Image Credit : °Doudou°

 

 

 

 

 

 

Night train.. rolling over hills, and drifts, winding roads..and worn metal.

11:16 pm.

Take the Eastbound train. Exit at Stadium Subway.

Head West to 4th street. Pass the Ball Park, 2 blocks ahead, on the other side of the highway.

Down the Street. Around the corner. Behind the alley. Past the iron gate. To the right.   (Inside) of Blazes Blues Bar.

Upstairs. Past the pool table, at the far left corner, keep going. Through the red curtain.

The First Door on the left.  Knock. Turn. Push. Peak. Step. Inside.  Step. Behind. Shut.

(your here)

1 purse down on the dresser to the right. 7 steps ahead. 1-2-3-4-5-6 buttons unbuttoned.

1 nude knee. 1 flat hand. 1 nude knee. 1 flat hand.

1 Open chest

2 Twilight Smiles

What took you so long?”

1 loose laugh.

“I lost myself at the bar...glad you found me.”

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Squawk the Crow

In The Shadows of the Midnight

Image Credit: Noel Zepeda

Squawk the Crow…Nevermore.

It’s after midnight..why are you pecking at my front door?.. Didn’t I say..to not come round here..Nevermore..no more?!

Go away Crow your not welcome…anymore!

I heard your pickup spinning up and down the street… Wheels viciously turning with rubber burning…in fiery red heat.

I heard the phone ring and ring ….then the sound of your wretched, wicked-whistle sing. I’m fed up with the flapping of your infected moulting wings.  I SAY…your DETHRONED you Paper Crowned King!!

Why are you beckoning me as if I were a beast like you? Leave me be..your not the same as me.
Out my yard and out my air! Go away Crow..fly fast away from there..
…here and everywhere..around my place.  Get down! I don’t want you in none of my space.

S0…Shoo! Shoo! Damn You.

Get away from here and don’t you come round here..Nevermore!!! NO MORE!
I been done told you! Your not welcome…A-N-Y-MORE!

Dammit Crow! I demand that YOU Go!

AND..Stop the Rapping and Tapping…at my front door! You leaving all them tiny little white bugs all over my porch floor.

The Roosting and Nipping at my windowsill…all the Squawking and Cawing is making me ill.

The Country Upside-down Talking and Honky-tonk..is so played out..it’s Hogwash and Backwards Trailer-trash Junk.

I’m done with you..and I mean it..”We’re through!” Don’t cha’ come around here no more. Nevermore!

The bristles of my broom are ragged..my salt is empty. I’ve shooed you away too many times..if there’s a next time I’ll just have to put a bullet in your hide.

Go away Crow…Go away Crow!

Get on away from my front door..and don’t come round here..NO more! Nevermore!

It’s Over! So go on now…. find your way back to the tree from which you fell…
better yet, find your way back to your Mama’s perch in hell!

 

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Bending without Breaking-The house that Jess Built

 

 

Image Credit: free source; Itunes Skins and wallpaper

Sometimes the Universe can do unexplainable and incomprehensible things to our lives.
Natural Disasters like Hurricanes, Tornadoes, or Earthquakes unexpectedly erupt and suddenly we are left dazed and confused. We’re lifted and twisted, turned and sometimes torn. Some of us are uprooted and lost. But, there are those who weather the storm. There are those who hang on until the calm arrives. We bend without breaking. We sway with the winds and bow to the earth. We kneel to which we don’t understand. We Bend Without Breaking; staying grounded and connected… yet aware.

Swaying with the Wind…Bending without Breaking.


Recently, I’ve had some strong tornadoes blow my way. Actually, it seems that the storm had been brewing for some time and finally let loose.

First, after 10 years of “Making the best of it” in a small yet cozy home; I was blessed and finally able to move into a lifetime investment for myself and my two daughters. A beautiful, spacious, and hopefully memorable home. Yet,  it needs plenty of repairs, remodeling, remaking and restarting.  So far, I’ve painted 11 rooms, put up dry wall, replaced ceiling panels, pulled up tile and carpet, painted two floors, laid tile, filled concrete, patched holes, repaired pipes, fixed doors; this is some of the work that I’ve been able to do on my own, but does not include all the work of others (the professionals) that I had to hire to do. It’s been too many sleepless nights, long days, scrapes, bruises and blisters. Terribly gruesome and costly but wonderful too.

Here’s a little background on my life; (just in case you’ve forgotten):  I’m a single mother of two breath-taking daughters; 14 and 11. Which by the way, are home-schooled and have been all their lives. A move for any child may produce unsavory results, but for a home-schooled child whose social life evolves around neighborhood friends and miraculous relationships that have blossomed from limited exposure; a move can be devastating.  (We’ll get more to that later).

Also, I’m self-employed. The proud owner of Regeneration Daycare and School.  Regeneration began out of the need of having alternative, holistic, and progressive ways to teach, instruct, and produce healthy and happy children while providing income for my family. But, most importantly being able to be home for my children. A bit old fashioned but appropriate for me and my beliefs.  The daycare has been highly successful. In the 14 years of me starting the business I’ve provided care for countless children. More than half of the children (preschoolers) who enter into the public school system are at advance levels academically. Most are placed at First grade level instead of Kindergarten.  Children are taught French, Spanish, Yoga, Aromatherapy, Color therapy, Meditation, Quantum Physics, Gardening, respect for all Traditions and Cultures and PRIDE-Peace, Respect, Integrity, Discipline, and Example. Obviously, I’m very proud of my accomplishment with starting Regeneration :) and it keeps me youthful and grounded. However, it’s a full-time job that always goes into overtime…minus the overtime pay. I’m Owner, Manager, Bookkeeper, Teacher, Parent, Priest, Maid, Chef and Janitor… etcetera, etcetera, etcetera…(Blah..Blah..Blah)

Lastly, in order to fulfill my personal duties to myself and what I am passionate about. I started an (almost non-for profit; still in the legal works)..ACT Now! Organization for human rights and bringing attention to injustices against military women by the hands of the military, and most importantly fighting for now deceased LaVena Lynn Johnson.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot…I’m a writer and poet, too. (as if you didn’t know that)

Needless to say, my life is plentiful. I run the business to pay for the house, I need the house for the kids; (If it were just me, I  would be satisfied in a big enough closet for me to sleep in and peck on a computer) However, it’s never… ever how we expect.

I moved into my new home in November. Unlike the old home, everyone and everything has space. The girls no longer share a bedroom.  Instead of one shared television, there are  5.  The daycare has its space with separate kitchen and bath. Office, Classroom and family room. I was even able to create a space for Yoga and Meditation.  The change was from day to night.

Well, not long after the move I noticed that the girls stayed in their bedrooms. No where else, just their bedrooms. Which is not uncommon for children..(right?) Also, I figured that since they shared so much of themselves with each other that it was okay for them to be alone. I kinda wanted to see how they would handle the freedom and if they would make wise choices.  It may have not been the best idea, but with all the work I had to do, it seemed alright if only for a moment.

By April, I was basically finished with the heavy work of the house. All rooms were finished except for the office and downstairs bathroom. They could hold for a while (I thought). But, not long after that, my 18-year-old niece unexpectedly moved in. She roomed with my eldest (the 14-year-old).   At first it was a welcoming addition, my daughter loved the idea. However, (as I expected) it  soon became a big issue. Both girls needed space. My daughter wanted back what she recently received. My niece wanted what she’d always had. Oh well, what to do?  I decided to take my plans for the downstairs office and change it into a bedroom. And I would add an office space to the downstairs family room.  Easier said than done.  I was hoping it would take a weekend to complete. But, after the first week I realized it was a bigger task than what I projected.  My daughter got restless and unhappy because she wanted (HER) room. My niece was irritated because she wanted (HER) room. My daughter soon gave up the fight and fled to her father’s house..who incidentally had a room for her there..(Nice right?)

One week at her father’s turned into two weeks, then three.  Now, I’m unhappy. The money has dwindled..and I need more to finish my niece’s room. She needs furniture etc.  (I’m stressed to the max.) And, I have to hurry up and finish so my baby can come home. Now, it’s the Fourth of July. Family time and outings, fireworks and pie and my daughter isn’t home. Okay, no worries. My 11-year-old celebrated with her father. I celebrated by working on the room. I was determined to get it done. By the weekend..I was finish. Whew! Yes!!!  My daughter came back Monday. Now, we’ll be fine.  (I thought).

I was exhausted and beat. But, optimistic. My niece was happy. My 14-year-old wasn’t enthused. She was moody and different..but she’s 14 so it was common. But, my 11-year-old. Where is she? She had been withdrawn and quiet and pretty much invisible during the whole thing. She hadn’t put up a fuss about anything. Perfectly perfect. She hadn’t wanted to help with painting or creating. She didn’t want to go out for lunch breaks or dinner. She asked nonchalantly about her sisters absence..”When is she coming home?” responded with a “Umph.” and retreated to her room. I was too busy to question her.

We had our first night’s dinner together as a complete family.  My youngest peered at her sister..”You seem different.” she abruptly said. I gazed from my plate. Confused but aware of the tension. “Well, babe. She just got home. She’s been gone for a couple of weeks.” My 14- yr. old responded by saying “Whatever! I have two families and two houses, I have to be there too!” My youngest looks at me with these eyes. Eyes that I hadn’t seen before, or just hadn’t noticed. She looked at me as if to question me and beckon me to do something. However, I wasn’t sure of what to do at the time. So, in classic Mommy fashion..I responded by saying that “Everything’s gonna be alright. It all seems different right now.” Quietly, my 11 yr. old finished her dinner, then shuffled to her room.

The next day, I stumbled upon her crying in a fetal position. She was crying so uncontrollably that I soon cried too, because I wasn’t able to calm her. Through her tears she told me that she was unhappy. She said that “everything was different”.   The move, the house, she had no friends.  (Okay, I understand…)  Then, she said that she was lonely and didn’t want to be here.  Shocked, I asked “What do you mean? What do you mean you don’t want to be here?” She said..”I don’t want to be here anymore, I don’t want to live here anymore..I don’t want to live.”  (WHAT!) Oh my GOD!  What is she talking about?! Puzzled, I just looked at her. She understood my confusion and spoke for me.  She said..”Mom, I’ve been having suicidal thoughts. I’ve had them for a long time, and I feel like it’s getting worse. I’m just not happy.”  Afraid of the answer, I asked her had she attempted anything and she replied with a horrifying “Yes”.

I held her and tried to think.  I tried to rationalize the situation. I thought that possibly all her feelings could be hormonal.  I took in consideration everything that had happened. It’s been stressful for everyone. The changes have been so sudden and drastic. She’s lost her friends and doesn’t have anyone to confide in. I tried my best to stay calm. But, then I remembered something. I just took her to the doctor a day ago. I took her to Emergency (again) for chest pains.  Actually, over the past 3 years I’ve taken her numerous times to different doctors because of chest pains. I thought that her chest pains had to be allergy related. I just hadn’t figured out the allergen.  Although never diagnosed and even though test after test came back negative. I felt that it was all minor. Maybe growing pains or  because of physical activity. But, then I remembered something. At the last emergency room visit, the Doctor asked if she was under stress and immediately I responded with an adamant NO. But, now I see.  It’s all making sense.  She’s been having panic attacks.  My little baby is having panic attacks.

My beloved child named “Ntozake” meaning “She comes with her own things”.  The child assumed to have it all together. Easy and lighthearted.  Joyful and independent. Smart and controlled. This wise child has been the backbone of our family. Me and her sister are always all over the place. The person of focus and reason has always been her. But, this time she took on too much. She tried to reel me in many times, but I didn’t listen.  With her smiles..”Mom, you need to get off the computer. Mom, you need to get some rest. Mom, it’s too bad that your too busy, because we (ALL) could go swimming”. Then, she gave up. And, foolish me didn’t recognize her giving up on me and (US) I thought that she had grown more mature and was now giving to herself.

Now, with new hurt eyes and tears never before seen; we watch. Both broken and weak. Admittedly, and realistically I knew that I needed help to fix this one. I once again took her to the hospital but this time I had to leave her. It was the most horrible thing that I have ever done. Everything ceased. Everything stopped. The business. The work. The writing. The house.  None of it mattered. LIFE mattered. LIFE matters!

I got so cluttered with so much of the world and the things that are in it..that I forgot why the World exists. Most importantly, what makes MY WORLD.  I realized that it doesn’t matter how much of a change that I am making with someone else and for someone else, if the change isn’t made in me. I can be Guru to those who know me, need me, and read me. But, I’m nothing if I’m not utilizing the same wisdom that I put forth. All this time..for these many years, I had been building the wrong house. The neatly folded towels, and empty sink. The full refrigerator and complete 3 course, home cooked meals, 3 times a day is not my house.  The spotless counters and empty hampers.. This building is not my house. These redone walls and refinished floors, are not my house.  My House can never be demolished or foreclosed. My House can never be torn apart. My House will stand forever on a strong foundation.  That foundation..is ME.

Getting my house in order

P.S. Both my babies are now home. We’re all home….wide-eyed, alert, and in our hard hats…(pink of course). I’ve decided to take a much needed break from the Daycare business and I plan to put energy toward my writing and concentrating on making the living that I’ve always wanted.  I honestly don’t know how things are going to turn out. But, I do know that MY HOUSE is priority. :)

 

 

 

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My Belly

My Belly

Dare I say that I love my belly…

“I love my Belly..”

Although, I haven’t had one in awhile.  I do now…. though brief; primarily from a monthly bloat…. but a BELLY nonetheless.

A Belly
-of Fullness
-of comfort
-of laxness

A Belly reflective of too much wine and cake
A Belly of too much laughter and late night folly

A nice bulge of roundness and suppleness..looseness and slouch

A plucked freedom from strictness and conservativeness. Relieved of restraints and firmness.

No high planks or sit ups. Not tight or tucked. A belly, my belly.

Out of my box for a moment…

A defiant Belly that says..”I don’t care right NOW! I’m tired, I’ll care (maybe) tomorrow.

A Belly that waits for TV and would rather eat than starve.

Plump and full, content and resurrected..For now..

I’ll be back on my self-proclaimed, perfectly created, road of perdition tomorrow…

(Maybe)

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Doll

Lil Kim, Blow Up Doll; image by David LaChapelle

He wants me..

……………………though he knows me not.

He wants me..

……………………..he thinks I’m beautiful  “Your my Living Doll..” he whispers at my earlobe…though he’s never really seen me.

He wants me..

……………………..he wants my legs wrapped around him, ankles crossed at his waist, holding, gripping, and lifting me…though he’ll never ever feel me.

He wants me..

………………..because he says he “thinks” he loves me.

But how? How could he want me?  How could he possibly love me..When I’m not the “Me” that he thinks I am.  In fact, I’m the (ME) that he refuses to see.

(ME): Flawed and imperfect. Slightly irregular. Quirky and disoriented. Clumsy and restless. Discontented and needy. Destructive, ill and indecisive. I sleep with Skeletons and Bathe the Devil. I sometimes laugh when I shouldn’t and take things much too personal. I can be cruel, narcissistic and impatient.

But, He Wants Me..

Only because he’s too blinded by what “he wants”  that he’d rather sleep with a lie and take home a fantasy than to face the plain reality that I am not the (me) that he wishes me to be.

I’m flawed and imperfect. Slightly irregular, and will never be the vision of what (YOU) think (YOU) see.

 

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PFC LaVena Lynn Speaks

On April 28, 2012, I attended the NWVAA (National Women’s Veterans Association of America) 1st Annual “Break the Silence” Military Sexual Assault & Suicide Advocates in San Diego, California. The Conference featured Veteran Women bravely telling their stories of sexual assault and abuse suffered by fellow soldiers, superior officers, and other officials of the military.  These Women stood strong and sometimes through tears yet steadfast and convicted they “SPOKE”.  They told “Their Stories”; “Her-Stories” in their own way. One of those voices that spoke, was that of PFC LaVena Lynn Johnson. I was there to accompany her and to make sure that (HER) voice was heard.  This is the story of PFC LaVena Lynn Johnson and how (WE) told of her rape and Military Cover-up.

PFC LaVena Lynn Johnson SPEAKS!

Image credit: John Johnson

  In July 2005, 19-year-old Army Pvt. LaVena Lynn Johnson, just 8 days shy of her 20th birthday and only in the Army for 10 months, was found dead on Joint Base Balad (JBB). The largest Military base in Iraq, also known as Anaconda. She was only in Iraq for six weeks before her body was found in a Military contractors KBR (Kellogg, Brown, & Root) Burning Tent. Which incidentally, Military and Active Duty Soldiers were not allowed on the premises.

During the Army’s initial investigation, LaVena’s death was considered a homicide and indicated as such in their paperwork. However, a decision was made shortly afterwards, that declared her death as a Suicide. Military Criminal Investigators attempted to explain that LaVena was depressed and distraught over a break up with her new boyfriend (just of 2 months) The Army stated that, on the night of July 18, 2005 instead of going jogging with her friends 5 ft tall, LaVena decided to go to an unfamiliar, off-limits, contractors tent and Shoot herself (intraoral) with her M-16 Rifle; alone without a “Battle Buddy” which is Military protocol. Even more intriguing, was that according to witness information and the Investigative teams findings, LaVena was murdered the night of the 17th, the same day she joyfully talked to her parents about being home for Christmas and decorating the house. Witness’s stated that they went to her barracks on the 17th and she wasn’t there, they went to pick her up to take her to class on the 18th and she didn’t answer nor appeared in class, the witnesses reported her missing on the morning of July 18th. At 7:30 in the morning on July 19th Army officials were at the LaVena Johnson‘s Parents home in St. Louis, Missouri.

This claim seemed preposterous and was quickly disputed by the family. Questions and suspicions arose, but not until LaVena’s body was viewed at the mortuary did LaVena herself confirm her families deepest fears.

LaVena showed a face, that was not her own. She wore a face that was unrecognizable to her parents. There were bruises in the place of smooth flawless skin. Her nose appeared to be broken and shifted. Her chin was swollen, dropped and different. She pointed out deep slits at the corners of her lips, then she showed that her teeth had somehow been broken and pushed back. LaVena told her parents that she could only see with one eye, because the other one was loose and cracked. She displayed a small patch, that covered what seemed to be a bullet hole at the top left front of her forehead, above her left eye and at her hairline. (It was an undersized hole that seemed inconsistent with that of a M-16 Rifle, plus as she remarked “I’m right handed”) But, what was to be the most troubling for her, was that she couldn’t take her military gloves off to point directly to her wounds. “Daddy, I think there glued on.”

LaVena’s father, Dr. John Johnson, a US Army Veteran, who holds a PhD in psychology and has 25 years of experience as a US Army civilian employee, put together and Investigation Team of four, professional, well trained Law Enforcement personnel, and one Media and Research Analyst to uncover the truth and help LaVena tell her story.

LaVena calmly whispered the truth in each debriefing. She passed along the courage for them, to ask her of more “Hidden Secrets” They fought through Congress and the Freedom of Information Act until the Official Military documents about LaVena’s death were released. Over the next two and a half years, pieces of evidence were given to the Investigative Team, and with each new bit of information, LaVena appeared. Over time, her voice got clearer and stronger.

When the families Investigative Team received the Initial Military Criminal Investigator’s Crime Scene Sketch, they heard LaVena say that she hadn’t shot herself in her barracks! Actually, her body was found inside a burning tent, under a wooden bench, with an aerosol can near her right leg, and her gun was laying perfectly parallel to her body. She told them to pay close attention to the two pools of blood that the Crime Scene Investigator drew, “Look here, there’s one behind me and one to the right of me”.

In the Army’s documents that the Team collected was a photocopy of a compact disk, curious about the contents on the CD, Dr. Johnson requested it and received it after Congressman Lacy Clay intervened. On that disk were Color Photographs of the Crime Scene, nothing like the Xerox, black and white, blurred copies that he had.

In the Military’s Crime Scene photos; LaVena seemed to shout of how she was inhumanly treated. She argued of how she was dragged from place to place, along the dirt and debris. She was moved from the outside of the tent, to the inside of the tent. She said she was dressed and redressed while Photographers snapped pictures and re-staged their supposed scenario. “Look, right here! Look at this picture and compare it with that one, they even photographed me in two different T-shirts, this one has black lettering, this one doesn’t”. LaVena said that they wanted her to lay flat back, but her neck was broke, and it was impossible for her head to stay straight. So they decided to tilt her head and place her right arm over her face, plus one of them thought it would be a good idea, because it wouldn’t show the damage of my left eye. “Hey! Do you see this, there are two pools of blood, you see it, the second is at the corner of the photograph, almost hidden.”

LaVena; not the slightest embarrassed by the photos of her nude body, plucked at every ounce of lie that was told to her family. “You see this here? These are burns down the right side of my back and into my thigh. That’s how my hands got burned, cause I was trying to put out the fire. See, that’s why they glued on my military gloves at the funeral.” She quieted and then calmly reminded the Investigators that there weren’t any burns on her clothing. My arm is twisted out like that, and my palm is up because my shoulder is dislocated.” When the photographs of the bullet hole and wound were shown, she helped the team to determine that it was in-fact an entry wound, and not an exit wound as the Military claimed. She told the Investigative Team, that she was shot with a 9MM hand gun, execution style. She showed them the teeth marks, and scratches, and she wasn’t afraid to talk about the corrosive liquid that had been poured into her anus and vagina.

LaVena Lynn Johnson Spoke to the Investigative Team, through the X-Rays and Autopsy’s too. She told of numerous cosmetic surgeries.  She talked of the removal of part of her tongue, anus, and vagina. She smirked and declared , “They are just trying to remove evidence, they thought I wasn’t gonna say anything, Humph, they messed with the wrong family, I’ll never be quiet and I’ll keep on telling it until they clear my name and the lie that they told.”

LaVena Lynn Johnson Speaks! Loud, Strong, and Clear!  If you don’t hear her, it’s not because you can’t, it’s only because you choose not too.

Written and recited by Jessica Williams (Creatively named Mantra Lotus), Ambassador for LaVena Lynn Johnson at the NWVAA (National Women’s Veterans Association of America) 1st Annual “Break the Silence” Military Sexual Assault & Suicide Advocates Conference in San Diego, California.

ACT NOW! Help in Claiming Justice for PFC LaVena Lynn Johnson and other Military women who have died in suspicious, “Non-combat”, “Suicide”, or “Accidental” related incidents…Sign the ACT Now! Petition!

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