Rote

I stopped, 

I waited,

I looked,

and then I said.

Keep your eyes open,

watch the horrors with what you possess.

666 you are the best.

remember you will confess,

at the age, if you survive,

tell it all for the guys.

So I am fucking it,

I'm a fucking thing,

back up mother fucker

cause I'm fucking good.

I'm quick and I'm fast,

I will survive,

I will tell,

I will be the one who points the finger at thee.

I am four, got a diagnosis from a who?

I am a what? Genius? of what?

I won't speak to idiots like you.

Regardless of what you do.

I will teach myself to be what you will fear,

I will remember nothing, understand less,

and know one thing, you're shaking.

I'll teach my brain to be what is insane,

tell what you wish, say what you want,

I don't listen to a tryst,

I won't obey your rules.

I will never grow up,

Four is the age that I will tell you,

do you know what the gift of seer is?

Beat me, I'll like it, harder,

I'll take it, but someday you'll know,
you  just have to go,

the way of the BDSMer.

Those men will come in and show you what happens to a genius at Two.

Call me what you will,

you can't cause you payed to know,

and now you just can't stop yourself.

Revelation? is that what you'll call it,

that's good, but I won't talk,

I won't tell,

beat me all the way to Hell.

I'm already here,

look in the mirror,

cause you are not anything at all.

Communicate, make me!

I'll hold out till I cannot,

and then I'll give nothing but SIN!!

Diagnosis this, you can't,

you're not even educated enough to talk to this girl,

and I am only four years old.

Karen

5/1/2011

Prisons Liberty

Fame and fortune you can take,

if you form a church someday.

Wait until they die or say,

"change my Will, so I can stay".

I was small when mom made the call.

All the Men who had the balls,

to discuss the ways to keep,

all the wealth of the hippie, Love.

Carry on with voice of captivated song.

Brothers, Sisters did not last long,

it was the Sixties, pass the bong.

Dirty people loved the family throng.

Sat around with different men,

I guess that it was not a sin,

discussing how to rip them off.

The pardoned youth of the War like hymn.

Flocked to San Francisco's Bay,

ended up in the Haight to stay.

Announcing for all to play,

drop out of society's present day.

Trip on Acid, lucidity will stray,

loose your mind your parents will pay,

to get you out of the occult today.

Dark and dreary is the way,

to the places you can't stay.

Please don't scream so loud at me!

Death Court waits for you to see,

Finals, final and it will be,

time for prisons liberty.

Karen A. Placek

4/30/2011

The Magic Circle

A night with men in different dress,

the room would fill with all of this,

hold your breath and know your age,

I was old enough to rage.

Is this Wiccan or a Craft?

No female could do all that.

Was a private show, I sat,

in the middle of the vat. 

An eerie tempo drove us through,

to the other side with you.

Silence filled the empty air,

could this be a real fair?

Close your eyes, I say not!

You would have be a lot,

fear may grab you but you bought,

a ticket to hold your very spot.

As the words began to speak,

deafening to the extraordinarily weak. 

Culled they are by things you see,

amazingly they guarded me.

Scared straight through, 

it was my age,

Three or Four, the Gift of Sage.

Meaning that I can be Wise,

profoundly different and in disguise.

All that whispered in that room,

whizzing in and out so soon.

Potions, lanterns not their style,

this was real and very wild.

Men of Seers,

Men in Robes,

Men I know,

Men I'd go.

Back to the place that scared me so.

To tell the tale of family's woe.

They have stolen from below,

casting spells by selling shows,

to the Church that I did know.

Narcissistic malignancy,

still becomes what I see.

I am older, they persist!

What they yearn is energy,

coming from the Soulless me.

Looking for the evidence,

of the places I have been.

Are your eyes wide open, shut?

Do you know of these Men?

Be careful Sir for they are thieves,

of Wills and Trust Funds,

please believe,

because they come from the Seventies.

I am over but just begun,

telling tales of what they've done.

Fear inhabits me so deep,

the pain is my agony.

Magic Circles whirl for me,

upon the floors of dignity.

Cast out not men but women who see,

demons, devils and don't warn thee.

For they'll speak in foreign tongues,

casting spirits and acting dumb.

Karen A. Placek

4/30/2011

April 29th, 1965

Today the day that I was born,

ever since I have been scorned.

My family does what they do best,

turn their heads and devil bless.

Been possessed, they often confessed,

to all their friends, they did invest.

I am alone at this strange age.

Forty years, the Gift of Sage.

I come with lots of agony and pain,

to tell you simply, I'm not insane.

Maybe someday we will speak,

of not my family, but of the deep.

I'm still alive since I was five,

an oddity for you to see.

Waiting for my mothers call,

"I have a snuff, you're not to ball. You're just not wanted

because you squall,

of all the times when you were small.

Shocking all, We will not Fall!"

A time to celebrate, my birth right too.

I don't care about all of you.

Creation stopped and held a hand,

out to me, she is my Dam.

My fire burns bright, My Soul is site,

of anything else but Gods hand, Fight!!

I'll be an empty vessel, void! 

Of everything, I toil, Annoyed.

Satan's fashion show did know,

I was a child, I landed so.

I was told on every day,

you're just not good enough,

so please don't stay.

Cry not, you are our perfect slave,

born out of wedlock and not adorned.

You only wear that crown of thorn.

Every Easter, I was told,

Blood of Jesus you will know.

You are the Lamb we sacrifice,

innocence is not your Christ.

But we'll keep you in such a way,

that you'll never, ever play,

with anyone but whom we pay.

To keep your genius far away.

Spook you will, we do at night,

throw your memories,

so they're not right.

If you speak you'll sound insane,

we will commit to this our Fame.

You'll never tell, your birthday fright.

You will barely get through the night.

Screaming in your minds alright,

make a noise, we'll beat you, Fight!!

You will loose the battle of Life.

Buried news will be your strife.

Take your offspring, drown in them.

That their mother's full of sin.

Happy Birthday from within,

a darkened place from all of them,

that do believe in deadly nights,

we still love you and do not fright.

666, you are alright.

Karen A. Placek

4/29/2011

Well, it's my birthday today, the 29th of April

I was born 46 years ago today. WOW! That is a while ago, I feel like life is going so fast on one hand and so slow on another.  My family that treated me so horribly growing up has a restraining order against me.  According to them, they can contact me but I may not contact them, not that I ever call.  Five years ago my mother contacted my ex-husband and sued me for custody of my younger two children.  I had been a single mom forever, I tried marriage twice, I failed both times.  Regardless, my two younger children, 12 and 10 wanted to go live with their Dad.  I did not know at the time that my ex-husband had taken the kids to my mom's and she promised trips to Europe, shopping sprees, etc, if they agreed to go and live with their Dad.

I never took them to my moms, due to the difference in opinion of the constant barrage of telling them I was possessed.  To make a long story short, my older two girls who I raised to 18 years of age before they moved on with life, also do not speak to me.  So, I have four kids, the older two don't speak to me, reason unknown, but my first ex-husband said it was because they were worried I would end up being like my mother.  Which I find strange, I spent so much time raising them particularly so they would never know of my past personally.  I don't see or speak to the younger ones because my mother makes sure that I cannot get through.  If you read any of my blog, you would understand I have been through some fairly bad times.  Even with that my son lives with my mother and she pays for him to go to school in the city.  Meanwhile, my daughter lives with her father and he, much like my mother, I guess you marry what you knew, will not let me get through on the phone.  Nor will he keep the agreement of the shared custody we once held.  I ran out of money fighting in court.  My ex-husband who has no job, relies on my mother to pay for his attorney.  Needless to say, she has more money than I.

Please don't jump off the deep end and begin to judge this very limited view of my story, it is more complicated than I am letting on.  I just wanted to share on my birthday how much work it took to never let my children know how much pain and agony I had been in for my life.  I had put so much effort into protecting them from all of this mess.  Turns out though that a malignant narcissist, be it my mother, will go as far as taking your children from you if she can.  I had no idea that she had been polling her money together to fight my divorce and my custody battle.  I married exactly what she is, a malignant narcissist and the two of them together have made sure I have not been able to see my two younger children in the past three years.

I had no idea that people would go so far as to ensure you have no contact with your own children.  I mean I had raised them on my own, working very hard to support us.  When they came to an age where you do not have to change diapers, carry them about, dress them everyday, they moved right in and took them away.  I was not prepared for such a full force assault, it was me against all of them. That is an awful lot of people.

So today I wish all of you my best. I cannot help my life but I hope that your lives end up more prosperous and less tortured than I have experienced.  Thanks for reading, thanks for not being a judge, thanks for just being a person that believes this is far more complicated than what has been written.

Death Court

The Day of the Dead!

I was snuffed, wrapped 'round my head.

Missed my ride and then it said,

"Get back, Get in, You didn't Sin"!

I moved over to the wall,

thought that I might have to fall.

Staring at what horrifies,

held my breath,

and I turned left.

On the other side of things,

they were busy with what bothered me.

Prepare, I stared, lots of work,

record your minds,

a simple quirk.

I'd be scared but thought I'd dare,

to be brave and stay out there.

Watching for a length of time,

realized it took a dime,

to make a call, I'd never "NO"!!

Don't come back, to remember that,

I'm now on a different track.

I moved on in timeless song.

All were there to prepare,

for your arrival in all despair.

Fascinated I did not sign.

Took Satan's box with no disgrace.

Complicated mess to see,

moved right in, you had to be.

Pull a number, stand in line,

could not believe, it was not mine.

Asked some questions at tolling table,

nerves did rattle, what a fable.

Lie, Oh lie, its like a rail,

roading you to no prevail.

Toot your horn, you have a Tail.

Saw the locker of evidence,

just looked at you on the fence.

Do you really think you're smart?

That when you're dead, you've hit the mark?

Challenges are not so good,

when your brain contradicts your should.

Tell the truth, the warnings in.

Be not what I saw as sin.

Telling nothing of what they fear,

rules have changed inside of here.

Demons close and don't revere,

why bother you just pretend and smear.

The name of God, pulls no weight Dear!!

Fold your hands? It's to late.

Go to Church? It is a plan.

Sex and Drugs and Money rings,

all the bells of disgusting verse,

quote me not, I'm not rehearsed.

Do you think you are to blame?

Point your fingers?

Know your shame.

Court is open when your dead,

hammer hits upon your head.

These are the places that they set snares,

lots of people report down there.

Your mind, your brain, rats you out.

Defensive types are not about,

strangling by spirits route.

Crimes are heavy, they don't care!

Death Court sets the latest dare!

Karen A. Placek

4/28/2011

Trotting Off, Polo?

Normally I close my eyes,

screaming in defeat.

I am not the age of Five,

nor Four, or Eight, I sage!

Why must I be surprised,

every night I've lived.

Don't I ever catch a break?

My life, my mind, a shiv?

Do these nightmares just require,

the Fear, the gasping air?

I cannot catch my breath sometimes,

the panic wrecks it there.

 I wonder if my origin spot,

ever feels this way?

Or do they just turn their backs,

on the coldest day?

Can I dump these memories,

of Old in Ancient, weight?

What happened to me in my life,

that my mind repeats the strife.

I wish that Blunt could be here too,

singing songs in person; Tune,

to take away the Fear.

Does the family of all this rot,

that fills my mind a lot.

Ever think that what they've done,

or do they Church and trot.

The Polo player needs to know,

that mallets are for me to sew,

the truth of the galloping horse.

They keep my mind on coarse.

I heard of the Churchill Affair,

as family business needs no repair.

Collecting money on the backs,

of the ones who worked the track,

and lost their lives out, Dare!

Suicide did more than I,

I miss my friend, I missed the sign.

He hung himself out there.

I wondered how he lived in fear,

I now know more and I must tear.

We shared the nightmares,

we shared the dreams,

we played some baseball,

and other things.

We passed the time,

when we were; bind!

A child like resist.

What good was all of this we did,

if in the end we can't survive,

the guys, the men, the womens thighs,

the Trauma of our lives.

Karen A. Placek
4/28/2011

Second Time Hit, Last Time Real

Taking years of blind attacks,

you get older and wonder that.

Do these people walk with Fear?

or do they hit a strange new gear.

I find it odd, they have not guilt.

Their memory seems almost built.

Each and every stone unturned,

mortared in with what has been.

They sit and eat, like you and I.

Their friends complete, not to unique.

Sometimes I wish that I could treat,

the brand new people with their defeat.

If I could speak to those friends, friends.

The ones that love to hear of ends.

Telling all of the fall,

the con,

the bong,

the men are wrong.

Women hate so much its clear.

Always complaining of what is near.

"Take out the garbage", they scream account,

"why don't you work harder, you only Mount".

What would a husband say to this,

if he knew it was a tryst.

A brand new friend my family found,

have discussions of why he's around?

Could his wife be one of those?

Back in the day of no repose.

When all those women shared and chose,

an orgy wild, upstairs; filed.

My mind, no gift of any kind.

Sees all the pictures left behind,

unanswered questions, take the Roll.

For the check-off changes, FULL!

Whomever wants to take a Whore,

call the House of Madness, more.

Gifted from the guild of Thor,

lightning, thunder, I do adore.

Imagination lets run wild,

it is better than the crowd.

They deny the truth out loud,

that this happened under the shroud.

Karen A. Placek

4/28/2011

I Would Rather Lose Than Win Anyday

I learn so much when I lose.  It's not that I win anything very often but truthfully I win the most because I lose.  When I lose, which with a little deeper thought could be related to being "the blame child" or "the scapegoat", I learn what to do and not to do by watching the winners.  Winning is fantastic, exhilarating and anti-climatic.  What do you work on in yourself if you have won.  Losing makes you know that there are things to work on.  Last night was the first time I won against the horrors of sleep.  The kindest beings, if you will, surrounded me in an incredible understanding of shielding me from the terrifying feeling I have when I sleep.  Normally, I scream in my mind when I close my eyes at night.  I try to imagine this one man and listen to him singing his songs, I draw some comfort from this thought.  In the end, in my minds eye, I have my arms wrapped around his neck and my head on his chest.

Does anyone else have nightmares or flashbacks when they turn in at night?

Thanks so much for the ones that covered me inside of my fear 12 hours ago.  I slept and enjoyed a night free of gasping, screaming and waking up in a fright.  A wonderful imagination of what could be for me brought me out of the losers circle and comfortably into the Winners Circle.  I achieved sleep comfortably, thanks.

My Nightmares Are Back

I take so much time in my life to face the horrors in my mind during the day.  I try so hard to not put anything to the back of my mind to deal with at another time.  This is a good way to not have your nights interrupted by what fears you.

My birthday is on Friday and always causes me distress. I am assuming that this is why I am screaming in the night again.  I was trying to overcome this trauma this year, but, so far I am still not able to control the uncontrollable. I hate the fact that when I sleep I am plagued with dreams.  Sometimes I wonder if I even sleep at all, it is as if I am up all night dreaming.  Sounds so stupid when I confess such a thing.  I wonder if my mind will ever be able to overcome the fear in me that seemly plays out at night, in the dark, when I 'm alone.

I like to believe that the flashbacks I suffer, the nightmares I live through are all for a reason.  I like to believe that it is my mind deciding that I am old enough to deal with my traumas as a youth.  I believe that before we can continue on in our life we must deal with that which has caused us strife.  I like to believe that the reason for such horrors to plague me again is my brains way to warn me of what may be coming up and I will have to face in person very soon.  I am not sure why else we would continue to have nightmares or even why we would be all of sudden plagued with flashbacks.

The flashbacks that I have had seem to be unfinished thoughts or memories of situations I purposely have avoided.  I know that I sound brave in facing my past, but, in reality it is a tough agenda to set for yourself.  Its been weird, I don't know if any of you have flashbacks, they seem so unique to themselves.  One flashback seemed to "go live", scarring the shit out of me.  I ended up in my front room walking back and forth saying, " I'm alive, I'm a human, I'm not an it".  I kept walking back and forth for what seemed like an hour or so.  Each time I tried to stop and sit down I thought I would have heart failure.  So, I went with the flashback and walked it out, so to speak.  After it finally ended I felt relieved that it had happened in my home and I was able to see it to its completion.  If it had happened while I was out and about, I would have been able to control it, but probably would have been extremely stressed.

I sat down and thought for a long while. I thought about what I had been saying, where I was at the actual time of the trauma and how sad it made me feel knowing this was actually a real event in my life.  I hadn't remembered it until this happened, I found it quite disturbing.  I was unaware a flashback could go live.  I thought at the time I must have fallen off my own rocker and just did not know what I was talking about.  Flashbacks were new to me in my life and I am still getting used to the abruptness of the attack of one. I made an appointment with my counselor at the time to question my own interpretation, "a live flashback", because it not only sounded stupid but quite unrealistic.  Turns out I was wrong.  I guess it can happen at any given time according to the shrinks.  Yea, another bright spot in the reality of surviving the abusive nature of the people who seem to think there was nothing wrong with how they raised me.

To The Unknown

I speak the words to the unknown,

to the ones that must own,

the lives that now must simply, thrown!

Don't give up for you will roam,

until the day that they do bone.

It's all about sex and drugs,

money making and some rugs.

That top the men,

that make us laugh,

to know for sure,

it's not our act.

To turn the other cheek in vain,

is nothing more than leaving, Trained.

To do whats right and always drain,

we are so tired and not insane.

Thank goodness for the little brain,

I started out with in this vein.

I looked for evil, to understand,

my life's lesson was my plan,

to get to know the family's dam,

never run and always stand,

regardless of any man.

B.D.S.M.

was not my fear,

but boy, oh boy, do you destroy,

an age old practice,

of ancients here.

I hope you have the things you'll need,

to explain the falling, Peeved!

I know for sure that what I saw,

on the day that I did, Law.

No restrictions, no restraint,

from the mother, not the bank.

Pictures show the disturbing facts,

did you know that act for act,

you are charged for all of that,

regardless of your class or tact?

I wish you luck for sex erupts,

all the girls that roughed it up.

A name for us is purely plain,

you call us whores and for our pain,

you turn your heads,

and advertise,

for the ones who close their eyes.

Karen A. Placek

4/27/2011

Why? I Still Scream!

My thoughts, my nightmares too.

They do plague me right straight threw.

The horrid flashbacks that seem to reel,

with no deny of lost,; REVEAL!

I speak of the parenting, please repeal,

that did raise me inside surreal.

Feeling sick and constant meal,

of every moment

they're words were real.

Plagued with fear, I work from "hear".

Please don't let them curse, adhere!

We'll get better, I suppose,

I seem to have the gift of prose.

Keep your fingers crossed, I say.

There will be another day.

Swallow hard for they're afraid,

we might write about their grave.

Mine would make great windows of,

stain glass finish from above.

I won't give up if you swear,

to meet me in the end, 

a dove!

Karen A. Placek

4/27/2011

The Third Man Out

The lives that I saw smashed,

while I was being thrashed,

made me wonder why we live,

and why I am the trash.

Searching other ways,

Men would come and stay.

Dungeons, Lairs, red curtains flair.

I wondered why we're there.

My mother off with them,

leaving me with him,

jingle change would cause some fear,

He'd say, "please don't touch me here".

The memory holds the key,

to a life that is all mine.

I know that fear will always rear,

my trust is in arrears.

She'd disappear in my sight,

the linens were not right.

Instead of laying flat you see,

they hung just like that, with dignity.

Chinese laundry folded clothes,

but others used some robes.

Massage was advertised,

no Japanese about.

Confusion still would hold my head,

but naked men did tout,

"this was no place to be about,

if you were only Three".

Off we'd go another night,

no sleep would this one hold.

Up to see a different we.

A way, a might, to "be".

They are the ones who took from you,

some evil spirits view.

Standing 'round, inside the brown,

or black of the, we're Found!!

Fear in me, went to see,

the natural lift of flight.

The ones were red and very dead,

came through with no delight.

I did scream inside my head,

"take me, hold me tight".

A Pentagram, painted by Man,

began to spin the floor.

Not one hood moved, it did behoove,

not them but men of Whom?

Masters of, the sin above,

the Lairs there is no room.

Don't go to the places,
where the ones do not know you.
The Spirit nature of demons flare,
when innocence is there.
Disappearing in plain site,
is all that we did fight.


Don't look to God for your appeal,
he's turned his back on you.
All you have is what you hold 
and what you hold is due!


BDSM or Pentagram or the Cult like belief.
Which do you point fingers at to find some personal relief.
Go to church, get on your knees,
pray for what you seek.


For in the end, it is the Men,
that closed the doors on thee.
It's BDSM that's Love to Me,
not the belt I see.
Wrapped around the man from town,
that married you for me.

Karen A. Placek

4/26/2011