October Deadline Extension!


Because this is such an important topic we want you to have every opportunity to participate, so we have extended the deadline.  You still have time to get in your submissions for the October 2015 Monthly Post:

Break the Cycles of Abuse!

Let’s work together to shine a light into the darkness. Send in your art, music, poetry, etc. that focuses on ending Child Abuse, Domestic Abuse and Bullying, etc.  Whether the abuse is physical, verbal, sexual or emotional it ALL leaves scars. Let’s do all we can to Break the Cycle!

Special Challenge: What are 5 Things that MEN can do to stop violence against women and children?

Extended Submission Deadline October 13th!
Selected Entries will be posted October 15th

Send in your contributions NOW to: artists4peaceproject@gmail.com


Gigi and Melanie


So you have plenty of time….October Topic Announcement!


October 2015 Monthly Topic:

Break the Cycles of Abuse!


Let’s work together to shine a light into the darkness. Send in your art, music, poetry, etc. that focuses on ending Child Abuse, Domestic Abuse and Bullying, etc.  Whether the abuse is physical, verbal, sexual or emotional it ALL leaves scars. Let’s do all we can to Break the Cycle!

Special Challenge: What are 5 Things that MEN can do to stop violence against women and children?

Submission Deadline October 1st
Selected Entries will be posted October 15th

Send in your contributions NOW to: artists4peaceproject@gmail.com


Gigi and Melanie


The rescue…Part 1

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERASuperhero, Flower, heard about the terrible abuse of hens and chicklets in a farm not too far from The Coop.  No one is allowed to leave The Coop without the knowledge of the hens and roosters.  Flower felt that their permission was unnecessary, however, so she rolled in the dirt until she was completely covered in dust.  She had already painted her wagon gray, and once she was was ready, she turned toward Rene.  Flower was humming with energy, Rene was trembling with terror.  She smiled at Rene, chirped a word of love and rubbed his beak with hers.  Rene made his choice.  He fell to the ground and began to roll around.  He rubbed his spoon with dirt and stood before Flower.  She chirped happily and, taking hold of of her wagon’s handle, made her way toward the front gate.

Getting out of The Coop wasn’t easy. The hens are always around and they see everything.   Eventually, with great stealth, Flower and Rene made their way to the neighboring farm.  They snuck into the barn, where the chickens were being held, and stopped dead in their tracks.  They were overcome with horror, neither one of them could move.   The hens were caged and smashed together, broken and hopeless. Their beaks cut off, their feathers filthy and missing. There was no noise, just the smell of misery and death.   Eggs were laying in troths, waiting to be stolen by humans.

Flower began to pant, rage, something she had never known, seemed to overtake her.  She moved quickly, Rene by her side.  They released the hens, gathered the eggs and ran for it.  Many of the hens were too sick to move.  They helped them the best they could and hid the them under plants and bushes, by the side of the road.  They took those who could walk, back to The Coop.

All of the lights were blazing and everyone was running around searching for the them.  The hens were sick with fear, but when they saw Flower and Rene pulling their wagon and helping the sick and wounded hens, they sprang into action and ran to help their new guests.  Rene spoke to the Roosters and told them where to find the sick and well hidden hens.  The Roosters left immediately, several hens went along, taking medical supplies with them.

Everyone was up all night.  The hens bathed the newcomers and dressed their wounds.  The eggs were taken to the nursery.  The rescued hens were wrapped in warm blankets and huddled together, afraid to be separated from their cage mates.  Several hens went to the kitchen and began baking cornbread and making oatmeal.  The tortured hens were fed and given anything and everything they needed.

Flower and Rene had been told to wait in the art room.  Flower stated painting FREE THE HENS and SAVE THE CHICKLETS on the wall in red paint.  Rene sat quietly, holding his spoon.

“Flower,” he chirped softly.  “I love you.”

“I know silly,” she peeped.  “I love you as well.  I love you because you are brave.”

Rene looked down.  He knew he wasn’t brave but he thought that maybe he could be.  Not as brave as Flower, but brave in his own way.  He bit his spoon and started kicking his feet.  He knew that Flower meant what she said.  He thought for another few minutes then got up and walked toward Flower.

“Thank you,” he chirped.

“For what?” she asked, adding yellow to her graffiti.

“For everything,” chirped Rene, putting down his spoon.  “You really are a superhero Flower.”

Flower put down her paintbrush and rubbed beaks with Rene  “We’re all superheroes, Rene, it just takes some of us longer to realize it.”


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by hitandrun1964

Mother where art thou—She was 3


By the age of 3 she had suffered some pretty serious physical abuses at the hand of her mother. It’s hard to imagine a mother striking out at her child and beating them into submission. Mothers are supposed to protect and nurture build you up not tear you down. Mothers are supposed to teach their daughters how to be a woman. Mothers are supposed to give you wings and help you fly. All her life she never knew anything but darkness. Somewhere deep inside that little 3 year old it started to rain and the sad part is her life would be filled with storms and pretty soon she would begin to accept that as normal.

She’s said I love the rain, I identify with the rain, I love gloomy days and I would ask why and she said because I identify with them. Never really knowing why because you see, she had no memories. Of course she knew her name, her family, things like that but she had no memories of being small and it bothered her when someone asked her if she remembered this or that and she had no idea what they were talking about.

She did have one memory of darkness, being surrounded by darkness. Long into adulthood one day her mother said you are a bad influence to children, you have always been bad ever since the day you were born. She said it was as if the shades were pulled back and in her minds eye she saw a little girl crouched in the corner of a dark room, covering her head with her arms, bruised, dirty and her face stained with tears. The memory she could not get out of her mind. It bothered her when she awakened in the middle of the night she saw that little girl in her mind. Sitting at her desk one day all of a sudden it was as if a flood happened in her mind and someone had turned a movie projector on fast forward all these memories came forefront to her mind. At first she sat there stunned wondering why she would think such things. She called her sister and told her of the memories in her mind and her sister said, “Mom used to do that to me.” She could not breath, she didn’t know rather to cry or scream her voice was stuck in her throat. Then out came the story her sister had to tell and she cried for her sister. She was haunted by what her sister told her and then she realized all those memories that came flooding into her mind were her memories. Her mother locked her in her room or in the closet till her dad came home because that’s what you did with little girls that were bad. She was a shameful little girl her mother would say she begged her mom not to lock her up. She crouched in the corner because next came the swatting at her wildly with her hands and fists till she lay helpless on the floor in a puddle. Screaming at the top of her lungs her mother would pace outside the door. How scared she was, how she wished her mother would be pleased with her. One time she got out of her room and went to the couch and pretended she was asleep thinking if her mother saw her sleeping sweetly she would let her stay in the living room but that was not the case.

When she grew up she became very confrontational, aggressive, suspicious, argumentative, belligerent, questioning authority, and down right mean. She picked fights with bullies. What really got under her skin were people that mistreated others she’d fight them sometimes physically other times with her words. By the time she was an adult she learned she could not go around punching the lights out of an offender so she learned how to use her words. The very words you are reading right now. Because that little 3 year old girl is me.


  • MichelleMarie

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The Dichotomy of Peace

“Two aspects of Peace are latent within Creation, but both are irrevocably intertwined.

The first aspect is Peace within Nature which is active only in the absence of the Human Species, or when the force of Unconditional Love is attained by the Human Species. In other words, the synergistic flow referred to as Nature is perfectly balanced when the chaotic influences of the Human Species are eradicated. The chaotic influences will cease only when: (1) the Human Species is removed, or (2) Unconditional Love is actualized (by the Human Species) as the primary causal phenomenon within Nature.

The second aspect of Peace is particular to the Human Species, i.e. applicable to the state of Human—to—Human interactions. The Human Species is a system of individual connections, characterized by the perpetual movement of energy, that channel the forms of influence from and to all Human Beings and creates a rippling effect throughout the Cosmos. The forms of influence (anger, hate, bias, compassion, empathy, etc) manifest as the moment—to—moment sensations projected or experienced by the individual, and ultimately reflect the dominant attribute(s), or collective force of influence contributed by the Human Species. This second aspect of Peace shapes the first aspect, and not vice versa.

Unconditional Love is the most powerful unified force of influence that can be actualized by the Human Species. Peace is the expression of that force.”

The Irreducible Primary
© Rob Taylor, 2011

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Rob Taylor

She could have

She could have maintained the title
of being your loving wife
but to know a life of safety and peace
became her only choice

She could have kept pretending
in time things would be okay
but she chose to face the truth
and instead she walked away

She could have disregarded
all the love that she deserved
but she found an inner strength
over time she had reserved

She could have given in and stayed
made that sacrifice
but instead she walked her path alone
and found she had a voice

She could have…
but she didn’t…
and now she’ll never have that option…

A poem written years ago when hearing the news
about domestic violence. Walking away or staying,
neither are easy options; but there’s always the
hope that you remember you’re not alone and you
deserve to be loved.


See Original

Just words?

I’ve posted the following on wordifull.com a couple times and it bears repeating, certainly today.















verbal_abuse 2

“Why can’t you take a joke”

“You are so sensitive”

“Cry Baby”

“I wish you had never been born”

“Worthless piece of shit”

words hurt

Verbal abuse is often dismissed, overlooked or glossed over as a lesser abuse.  Not so!  Verbal abuse can cause lasting damage.  Choose and use your words wisely.

Verbal abuse can occur in any relationship regardless of age, gender, race, or sexual orientation.


 The abuser can be a parent, spouse, boyfriend/girlfriend, teacher, classmate… it is about control.

sonas_a4_poster1_verbal abuse



Name Calling

Constant Criticism








Jokes at your expense





Put Downs


Silent Treatment


 As children we are taught “sticks and stone may break my bones but words will never hurt me” but that is not true. Words are weapons sometimes they cut, they bruise, they scar.


VerbalAbuse poster


Verbal abuse doesn’t always come in screaming

Sometimes it is more subtle yet still demeaning

Eroding self-confidence and self- esteem

whether silence, a whisper or a scream


~Melanie Blackwell

Day 279 In the Pursuit of Love (Against Violence — Part 2)

In Post 260, I said I didn’t really want to write about being against violence — I wanted to write about being for peace. And then Sarah on AngloSaxonCeltCreates wrote her piece Against Violence — and stirred up the hornets’ nest in my head.


As long as there is fear and as long as there are inequities in the world then there will be violence. But preventing violence needs to start from where we are. It is much easier to prevent violence if issues are addressed before there is an inciting incidence. When I was a teacher, I was informed there was going to be a fight when one of my kids left my room. I kept that child with me – wow was she mad — and when the halls cleared I took her to guidance. The two kids ultimately were able to talk it out.

There is always a ripple effect. The peace keeper student who told me of the problem started the ripple. I then was then next ripple of peace and then the guidance councilor and ultimately the two girls who were going to fight found a peaceful solution.

The ripple effect could have gone the other way. The peace keeping girl could have been too afraid to tell me. I would have not intervened. The girls would have fought. In all likelihood their friends would have started to argue about whose side to take. The kids would have been punished by the administrators and then parents would have to choose sides….ripple after ripple.


The first conversation starts in your head. The story you tell will determine a peaceful or violent end. A person cut me off on the highway. That is a fact. If I leave it alone and don’t add a story to the fact — it will merely be forgotten.

If I add a story that I am the luckiest person because the person having the bad day missed me. I feel great because I was so lucky and acknowledged there was nothing personal about the incident. There is a peaceful ending for both of us.

If I  add a story that the other driver should have seen me — therefore he is an incompetent driver and should be punished — and in fact he probably did it on purpose — and he needs to be shown a lesson — so I go after him to cut him off so that he’ll know what it felt like — we now have a case of road rage. There is a violent ending for both of us.


Before a big war breaks out there are usually some smaller skirmishes — disagreements — wrangling for power. There are usually many opportunities to stop the violence before it rages out of control. Just as it takes practice to be an effective peacekeeper — it takes practice to be an effective bully. Whether we are a country sending troops to battle or we’re dragging our spouse to court — there were probably many opportunities for the two sides to make peace.

We need to start looking for those opportunities if we want peace rather than violence. Before the big war we need to see our “enemy’s” fear and rather than capitalize on it for our own gain — we need to find a way to be present in the moment so that we can find a way to disperse the fear and open a space for peaceful conversation.

What do you think?



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