MELISSA BEGLEY# brews yet another hair-harrowing and nerve shredding
poetically packaged hybrid memoir. The rhythm abound is astounding
and head busting. Her verbal bravado is mesmerizing. And this heart-
scalding memoir is classic as the paradox and humor become preservatives to enrich
this literary beverage . Storyteller par excellence. Begley’s memoirs
carry harsh realities and shattering experiences from her tender years into her tussling. The heart stabbing sexual abuse to her soft -innocent
plum in her tender life by a ravenous and uncouthed biological brother evokes salty
tears in the eyes of the reader. Harsh realities. And the writers
voice is pregnant with boldness and bravery that defines the iron lioness within her spirit as it carries scars of her tumultuous life
ordeal. We have a myriad of torrid, untold stories hidden in the heart caves of many, vulnerable in from dust villages of Nyamapanda to the heart of favelas in South Americas and streets of Chicago. The writer poet chronicler in Melissa Begley
traverses with us without much farce. We gasp and choke as we tread along the
twists and turns of her mind boggling and traumatic live trends. Melissa Begley is a trailblazing film story. She is
her story. Her story unravels the realities and complexities of the
ordeals of young girls and women as they groan under the yoke of
chauvinism and sexual barbarism. WOMAWORDS is overjoyed to feature
such boldness, bravery, wit and dexterity. MELISSA BEGLEYS Writings
compliments her role as our #DAUGHTERSOFTHEEARTHPROJECT Fundraising
Coordinator. The Project was delayed by the menacing COVID 19
lock downs. We are resuming the # Daughters of the Earth Project in the
next two weeks. ALUTA CONTINUA (WOMAWORDS EDITOR-Mbizo Chirasha) *
DAMAGED FEMALE CHILD#
At the tender age of six the pretty and dainty blonde-haired blue-eyed child was persuaded by her considerably older brother to play “enjoyable and fun games.” She was charmed that her handsome big brother was attentive since his reputation was well-known for his untamed athletic prowess.
Slowly and methodically, he sought to gain her fondness and friendship. One day the directives were the removal of her dress and lacey, but little girl cotton panties.
Bewildered and hesitant on what to do for the reason he was unyielding in his requesting of an unimaginable game. As she shed tears and was sniffling, he confiscated her clothing, and the vulnerable little girl disappeared into the blackness of a protected state.
He held her gently, but tightly as he whispered, “This is our special secret.” I adore you so much and will bring you candy.”
The swishing of his tongue all around her vagina was not pleasurable. Her flat breasts were fondled and caressed. She was frightened, alarmed, but remained cool to the touch in her state of darkened frame of mind.
After two more unpleasurable encounters and requests to place her tongue on his thing, which she never did, but caressed his manhood gently with her little agile finger guided by his manly hands.
After the third occurrence she grasped how to avoid the secret connection following her only known survival of hiding when he was around. She was a little baby bird chased by the sly fox, but became victorious at the practice of avoidance and no longer a participant in the “enjoyable and fun games”
February 8, 2020 (Ms. P.)
All Rights Reserved by Melissa Begley.
Blonde haired and blue-eyed teenager, dazzling times, glitzy musical bands, charming young boys and many with driver’s licenses, smiles for and giggles for everyone, biology classes, loads of happiness, and magical teenage experiences.
Canyons, gorges, ravines, herds of deer, tarantulas, historic copper mines, white, pink, and yellow flowers in the leas, and adorning the canyon was a magnificent mountain stream flowing down from the snowy mountain tops and pure as the essence of an Angel’s heart.
He was a handsome boy, a high school graduate, and headed to college in the fall. Of course, the blonde-haired girl wanted to ride in his car up the canyon roads.
They stopped near a bubbling mountain stream; played in the icy cold water, splashing and laughing as the deer remained watchful guarding their favorite watering spot.
She was astonished that an older boy was so interested in her, but knew she had to return home.
They sat in his car and discussed the magnificence of the mountains, the Great Salt Lake, the Bonneville Salt Flat, and skiing in April when the mountains were overflowing with snow. He moved closer and gently touched her hair and kissed her. She giggled and told him she must go home.
He became enraged and his eyes were dark without any human life; shallow empty holes racked with anxiety protruded from his face. He pulled at her clothing and demanded that she remove her blue jeans. She sobbed, whimpered, and pleaded for him to stop. He laughed. He told her it was almost nightfall and he would leave her alone in the mountains with the wild animals and tarantulas if she didn’t abide by his demands. He ripped off her blouse and jerked down her pants as he fulfilled his masculine act.
February 8, 2020 (Ms. P.)
All Rights Reserved by Melissa Begley.
Standing in the bathroom examining herself in the mirror. Seventeen years of age girls gaze at their young bodies not maturely developed or with understanding of their vibrational energy. She was not captivated by her appearance but bewildered and baffled on the subject of life. Pondering as she stared into her blue eyes on why she was mystified with the excursion of breathing and existing.
Her parents although they loved her didn’t understand or even know that she had danced with an evil spirit that blazed so gleefully bright.
Teenage girls focus on their own shortcomings and influenced by mocking that creates an unworthy mentality. Her older sister was married and never in sight, but spent years ridiculing her, but it would be revealed years later it was covering up her own inadequacies and a disruption of Universal Love.
The teenage boys and men appeared to be fascinated, but she presumed it was merely for a patronizing and belittling sexual connection. She has no inkling on how to communicate her loathing but pretended to be unapproachable and calm.
She encountered her first negative clash with a male at the tender age of six. More happenstances as she grew older even without any assertive or noticeable tendencies, she had no clue on what was occurring and why.
One afternoon observing her reflection in the mirror, arrows unexpectedly kept multiplying and targeted her eyes without ever leaving the boundaries of the glass.
A message was delivered by perchance her Third Eye, Spirit Guide, or an Angel, but how would she know since connecting with a Higher Power or being surrounded by their protection had never entered into her thought process; until she evolved years later and comprehended the splendor of love.
The Missive of Change, not currently known at seventeen, was a Spirit Guide or Angel connecting the ancestral loved ones waiting for her as she walks the Spiritual Pathway. They know the way and gifted her with an aura that is magenta, lavender, violet, with glimpses of Angel’s light assisting her on the journey of earthly life.
February 8, 2020 (Ms. P.)
All Rights Reserved by Melissa Begley.
# RECYCLED SOUL
I was born a beautiful fawn at dawn.
I matured into the loveliest white-tail deer and pranced so gleefully.
The canyons mountain stream is a creation from snow melting from the mountain tops and rainwater. The stream is filled with crystalline waters and naturally purified from the water sojourning over the mountain rocks.
I am surrounded by lush greenery filled with native trees and delicate colorful flowers magically painting my earthly environment.
A buck drinking from the mountain stream was gazing at me. His antlers were huge and I knew he was filled with wisdom and connectivity to higher forms in the Spiritual Realm.
After the courtship I became a mother of two beautiful fawns with eyes symbolizing wisdom and connection to higher powers.
The hunter came and killed my beloved mate; not for food to nourish his family, but the trophy prize of his head and magnificent antlers.
My fawns became deers. I was a nurturing loving mother, and my grief and longing for their father brought many tears. My happiness and prancing terminated when my partner was shot and killed. My daily intentions were requests of dying.
My soul recycled into the fairest maiden with light brown hair. My eyes were the darkest brown mirroring the color of tree bark underneath the moonlight.
I live in a distant valley from the flow of the city. Tis filled with radiant energy festooned with the awe of nature.
At the stream, one morning, I met a handsome gentleman. We courted and soon married; the naysayers laughed and told stories of our upcoming failed romantic fairytale.
We were a cheerful partners and enjoyed our human pleasure; secrets discovered by exploring, curiosity, and imagination.
My beloved traveled to the city to replenish food and supplies. There was a bank robbery and he was killed in a crossfire.
I could not bear the grief and many came to court me for the reason I was as beautiful as a sleekly-designed deer. My daily intentions were requests of dying and I died on my twenty fifth birthday.
My soul recycled into a golden blonde blue-eyed beauty. I lived many happy years with a handsome, strong, and intelligent spouse.
Early one morning, before the break of dawn, he left his body ravished by cancer. He is now a celestial being.
I greive. My daily intentions are not requests requests of dying.
A profound and mind-blowing spiritual connection was revealed by the ancient messenger. How dare you reconnect me to my lfirst earthly life’s husband that knew my energy before he knew me.
Exposed vulnerabilities when there is a passionate love from a different life entwining us together, once again.
We distantly live apart preventing Karmic punishment because he is married to another.
I evolved because my daily intentions are not requests for dying.
April 19, 2020 @ Ms. P.
All Rights Reserved by Melissa Begley.
Wisdom, Higher Power draping our hearts with consciousness.
Wisdom, embodiment of understanding bestowed upon our souls.
Wisdom, the astonishing messages we sprinkle upon humanity,
Wisdom, the discerning knowledge, and awareness of righteousness.
Wisdom, angelic realms attunement located in earthly crystals.
Wisdom, engraved, personal crystal guide to past knowledge.
Wisdom, blue sapphires, wisdom stones, calming mind’s negativity.
Wisdom, sinews of eternal love and enlightening oneness.
Wisdom, Tree Spirits whispering divine mystical ancient discernments.
Wisdom, cedar tree wood renowned emissary of wisdom.
Wisdom, insightful sagacity, coalesced intelligence, and proper behaviors.
Wisdom, erudite perceptiveness to appraise and adjudicate injustices.
Wisdom, unbiased judgment recognizing profound prudence and pragmatism.
Wisdom, stabilizing chaotic balance, choosing right over wrong.
Wisdom, spiritual manifestation of nature conveying aligned energy.
Wisdom, derivative of experience festooning enlightened future enrichment’s.
April 23, 2020 (Ms. P.)
All Rights Reserved Melissa Begley
# CANDID TESTIMONY by the Bold Pen Weilder by Melissa Begley#
*Sadly, I never accomplished motherhood and do not have any children or step-children. I have never been pregnant.
My first inappropriate sexual encounter was at six years of age with a biological brother. He is deceased and I am very close to his eldest daughter. I only want the mention of a family member and specially stating not my father. My father was a noble man, I would never desire to harm my niece’s adoration for her daddy. I only had biological siblings and my parents had a beautiful and loving relationship. Unfortunately, they are deceased.
The teenage rape was when I was fifteen years of age high school student by an alleged male friend that had just graduate from high school. Any type of friendship was gone after that encounter.
Like most children, girls. women, the secrets are kept and never revealed. The normal expectations of future relationships and trust in males are virtually gone. The self esteem takes years to heal or just dies. I was fortunate to have healed much of those encounters. I have even more unwanted, unprovoked encounters, so how could I ever desire to love or trust a man. My hubby was such a gentleman and my dear friend before we engaged in a relationship and was married. My life of being inappropriately treated by males as if they were nothing but lustful creatures and not caring about the consequences. My relationships with males were quite damaging and I suffered many many unwarranted incidents and made a few mistakes on my own anytime I trusted a male.
It was difficult to write these stories without much weeping. It is a nightmare to relive the past with males. It is truly sad that many males are like that, but the closeness with my daddy I knew in my heart that decent men exist.. My parents were loving beings and other than the male, I lived an idyllic childhood. I was not allowed makeup or to dress seductively or enticing and that is what people like to say about girls that they provoked the encounter. An ongoing stigma females encounter, they deserved that*
#MELISSA BEGLEY# I am from the South in the USA, but have lived in many states and abroad. My friends and colleagues have encouraged me to become a writer for the reason I have a wild imagination and that I am deemed as pleasantly eccentric. Magically, the past couple of years the manifestation of poets and authors have entered into my world. The individuals that are distinguished and honorable wordsmiths convert words into the magnificent power of describing heartlessness, tragedy, hate, love, war, poverty, unfairness, humor, pain, and wisdom. My background is in the healthcare industry and I served as a Patient Advocate, trainer for new employees to be Patient Centered and Patient Focused, and my favorite assignment was the backup Elder Navigator.
MEET WOMAWORDS CHIEF EDITOR#
#MBIZO CHIRASHA is 2020 Freedom of Speech/Literary Arts Activism Culture Fellow at PEN-Zentrum Deutschland, Germany. Poet in Residence at the Fictional Café
(International publishing and literary digital space) USA . 2019 Sotambe
Festival Live Literature Hub and Poetry Café Curator. 2019 African
Fellow for the International Human Rights Art
Festival(https://ihraf.org/international-fellows ) , Essays
Contributor to Monk Art and Soul Magazine in United Kingdom .Arts
Features Writer at the International Cultural Weekly .Featured Writer
Poet Activist at The Poet A Day(https://jamiededes.com/). Core Team
Member and African Contributor to Bezine of Arts and
Humanities(https://thebezine.com/) in USA. Flash/Short Fiction Writer
for Squawk Back
Writer( Africa) to IHRAF
Publishes-https://ihraf.org/ihraf-publishes. African Contributor to the 2020 BlackWell Poetry Pamphlet of Oxford School of Poetry, UK. Hybrid Writings Contributor to Pulp-Pit Review, USA.The Originator of the
Zimbabwe We Want Poetry Campaign. Curator of MiomboPublishing Blog
Journal(https://miombopublishing.wordpress.com/). Founder and Chief
Editor of WOMAWORDS LITERARY PRESS(https://womawordsliterarypress.home.blog/about/) . Founder and Curator of the Brave
Voices Poetry Journal(https://bravevoicespress.home.blog/). Co-Editor of Street Voices Poetry triluangal
collection( English , African Languages and Germany) initiated by
Andreas Weiland in Germany. Poetry Contributor to AtunisPoetry.com in
Belgium. African Contributor to DemerPress International Poetry Book
Series in Netherlands. African Contributor to the World Poetry Almanac
Poetry Series in Mongolia. His latest 2019 collection of experimental
poetry A LETTER TO THE PRESIDENT was released by Mwanaka Media and
Publishing and is both in print, on Amazon.com and at is featured at
African Books Collective. 2003 Young Literary Arts Delegate to the
Goteborg International Book Fair Sweden (SIDA AFRICAN PAVILION) .2009
Poet in Residence of the International Conference of African Culture
and Development (ICACD) in Ghana. 2009 Fellow to the inaugural UNESCO-
Africa Photo- Novel Publishers and Writers Training in Tanzania. 2015
Artist in Residence of the Shunguna Mutitima International Film and
Arts Festival in Livingstone, Zambia. A globally certified literary
arts influencer, Writer in Residence and Recipient of the EU-Horn of
Africa Defend Defenders Protection Fund Grant, Recipient of the Pen
Deutschland Exiled Writer Grant. He is an Arts for Peace and Human
Rights Catalyst, the Literary Arts Projects Curator, Poet, Writer,
publicist is published in more 200 spaces in print and online.
#WOMAWORDS LITERARY PRESS#
*An International Digital publishing Space to AMPLIFY the Artistic Voices and Creative Prowess of the girl child. A Fast Rising Exhibition Platform for Women voices of resistance and their artistic resilience through Literature’s and other arts. WOMAWORDS is haven of Head -busting Short Fiction . Nerve -Shredding Poetry And Mind -Blowing ARTISTIC Profiles* -Authored and Curated by an Award Winning Poet , Widely Published Essayist Writer , Creative Arts Activism IDEAS Curator and Literary Arts Projects Diplomatie,MBIZO CHIRASHA*