Blame it on Betty

By Elaine M Barr

Were? Did? Can?

Were you innocent and afraid as a child and unable to fit in and feel different inside? Were you playing with boys but dreaming about girls, all socially awkward, quiet, and reserved? Were you void of makeup, fashion, and perfume and writing alone in your bedroom? Were you young and alone when you left home to discover a sexual identity completely foreign? Were you shunned and forbidden by employers ignorant of human rights and trying to destroy ya? Were you using alcohol to deal with pain and to suppress denial, confusion, and shame?

Did you have closeted relationships and constantly told "get over it"? Did you commit petty crimes whilst addicted and have family members charged and convicted? Did you hit rock bottom whilst addicted but rise again from courage within? Did you come out for all to see and combat workplace discrimination for equality? Did you walk alone amongst the whispers whilst ostracized by blue brothers and sisters? Did you lose faith in a justice system but go beyond for the victims?

Can you look out a window and recall your life and relive moments that cut like a knife? Can you relive family ordeals and times that made your heart reel? Can you relive trauma, heartache, and the gory by sharing true events of a life story? Can you recall the brutal reality but tell the story with dignity? Can you retain humour and morality and do it all in poetry?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellwell Talent
• Release date: May 23, 2021
• ISBN: 9780228853336

Elaine M Barr

Elaine Barr has been an unknown, unpublished poet and short-story writer for most of her life, a Northwestern Ontario girl, raised in an isolated village on private property with about thirty other families. She's the third oldest of seven children. In high school, she unintentionally joined the military but climbed onto a bus leaving town.From a disciplined childhood to a disciplined military and policing careers. Not out and proud with an introduction to a gay lifestyle but at rock bottom she was determined to make changes. In thirty-eight sober years came self-acceptance and a thriving law enforcement career. She's a survivor of five years in the Canadian military, twenty-five years policing and sixty-five years of family living.She's a naturally gifted athlete in various sports and a master of none but she keeps trying. If not on an indoor court somewhere, you'll find her outdoors enjoying sports and nature. She's an animal lover but also a first-time wild-game hunter in retirement, thanks to a healthier choice of diet.She lives with her two fur babies in a condo in Eastern Ontario. She's currently only one of three survivors from a family of nine. She can be found on social media. To appease an assorted group of followers in three years of retirement and in a lockdown world, she's now a poet for others to know it.

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Copyright © 2021 by Elaine M Barr

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Tellwell Talent

www.tellwell.ca

ISBN

978-0-2288-5332-9 (Hardcover)

978-0-2288-5331-2 (Paperback)

978-0-2288-5333-6 (eBook)

Table of Contents

Foreword

Blame It On Betty

Expectations

Checkmate

In My Backpack

My Younger Days

Looking Out A Window

Rookie of the Year

To My Best Buddy

Vanished in the Night

Just Weren’t Meant to Be

Flag Girl

I Can Feel You Calling Me

The Maid

Remembrance Day

An Alcoholic

Life

Puppy Love

Little Boy of Beauty

My Child

I Am Your Flea

Me

Proud of Me

Slip Away

Unfinished Poem

Family

These Hands

MOM and DAD

Our Little Village

Childhood Games

A Mystery to Me

Blalock Pit

A Father’s Tears

Our Blueberry Patch

Canada Versus

Dad

Eulogy – Going Home

Older Brother

Mother Taught Me

More Than Her

A Mother’s Gavel

Baby Brother

Just Like Me

On that Ridge

I Didn’t Know Her

The Good Book

A Mother’s Love

You’re Hurting Her

I Am

Around the Horn

Born to Ride

Just Know

On Floor 3

In My Genes

Checkmate 1

My Drinking Days

My Best Friend

Boots I’m In

Words of the Wise

My Sober Days

Old School

Dear Lord

K-2 ½

The One

Nismo Barr

In My Corner

On My Road

Heaven

I Am the Sun, You are the Moon

I Am Who I Am

My Sister

A Tale of Two Sisters

A Handyman

You

My Sister and I

A Family of Five

Her with Me

My Sister’s Daughters

Her Mother

On the Job

Thanks, Mr. Thompson

A Voice Inside

A Badge of Glory

And So, It Begins

A Top Priority

A Mother’s Duty

Picture This – On the Lighter Side

A Baloney Man

Picture This – On the Lighter Side 2

My Heart Bleeds

An Honourable Man

Life - Without Parole

Picture This – On the Lighter Side 3

A Wide-Open Door

Checkmate 2

Represent Myself

You’re Outta Here

Picture This – On the Lighter Side 4

Savour the Good

What I’m Trying To Say

Picture This – On the Lighter Side 5

Women On the Job

Silent Thank You

Pig

Platoon A

Picture This – On the Lighter Side 6

In Loving Memory of Tyler Boutilier

This Little Girl

Picture This – On the Lighter Side 7

9-1-1

Checkmate 3

That Routine Drive

Picture This – On the Lighter Side 8

Once Again

A Fate Unknown

Checkmate 4

Picture This – On the Lighter Side 9

Beyond A Reasonable Doubt

Feed Me

Cops and Cons

Picture This – On the Lighter Side 10

On the Job

Ptsd

Walk On

What Now?

All About Me

Ne’er Stop Til It Drops

Six

A Few Bad Apples

On that Hill

A Pain Diffuser

Wake Up … Wake Up … Wake Up …

My Little World

My Brainwashed Friend

In Spite of Him

I Feel the Light

Yesterday

Reflection in the Mirror

In the Bank

Baby Ebony

Pawprints On My Pillow

Clause Four

Looking Out A Window Again

Volume Two

Glossary

Foreword

I knew Elaine in high school, and she was one of the best athletes. Her quiet, calm demeanour demanded respect. I had the deepest admiration for someone who was so cool without even trying.

After reconnecting a few years ago, we shared a lifetime of stories. I discovered the one thing we had in common was our love of writing. Elaine is a gifted writer, speaking her truths as she magically weaves them into poetry. Her life stories will stir you, cause you to ponder and make you smile. You realize she has the heart of a warrior who has seen too much tragedy. In her bravery, she exposes raw truths in hopes of helping the underdogs of this world, who desperately need a lifeline. She is a hero to many but would never put herself in that category.

I am honoured to write this foreword for such a dear amazing friend. My best wishes to your success as a new Canadian author. Congratulations, E!

Always in your corner,

Betty

Blame It On Betty

It began to flicker and burned deep within

During my teenage years, I couldn’t keep it in.

A strong, uncontrollable emotion, ’twas easy to imagine

With pen to paper, my growing passion!

Cut-off paper heads taped to a page

With brief character descriptions and always named.

In a title that grabbed and a few story lines

From a born screenwriter, in my mind.

Then I became one, an epic poet

’Twas my secret alone ’cause others didn’t know it.

In words written down there was always a moral

’Twas someone’s life and someone’s story.

A cherished memory or even a frown

Can be brought to life when it’s written down.

Like every flame that rises and falls

As a reflection of the air, it breathes after all.

So, a life that’s filled with heartache and wine

Can feed the soul and strengthen the spine.

With God-given talents and God-given gifts

Comes a reason for being and a reason to live.

It was always smouldering and feeling its way

To be fully ignited again someday.

From a high school friend, forty-five years ago,

A singer, songwriter, guitarist, and author

Get in touch with nature is what I was told

And when I read her words, I knew I was sold.

For all that time, a flicker so idle

Found new life and got an instant revival.

For all it’s worth and all it’ll be,

A story to tell is a big part of me.

Whether it touches your soul or makes nerves unsteady,

What can I say Blame It on Betty!

Expectations

For a simple woman

With a slang tongue

And my writings will reflect that,

So, this open book has begun.

If expecting a life story,

It’s only an introduction

’Cause when done in poetry

It limits the production.

If expecting terrific grammar

And expecting high flair

Or expecting superb vocabulary,

It’s not happening here.

If confused by words or some jargon or phrase

Then refer to the GLOSSARY to learn what I’m saying

As displayed in the text with quotation marks

Throughout my poems… this isn’t a hoax.

For detailed descriptions of person, place, or thing

In CAPITAL LETTERS, another poem will bring.

For a bit of added flavour

CHECKMATE and PICTURE THIS for sure,

As shown in brief descriptions of incidents

That are purely defining and sometimes humorous,

With reflections on events and career too,

In good and bad times, and that’s the truth.

Now, names won’t appear; they’ll remain anonymous

’Cause names aren’t important; that verdict is unanimous.

I’ll expose myself; I’ve nothing to hide

So, if you want more … then step inside.

Checkmate

A checkmate is an incident, a discriminatory moment in time

Involving actions or words and permanently planted in my mind.

Throughout a lifetime, pawns will engage

Of smallest size and value and pining for a stage.

But it’s not about the moment or who’s involved in the game

’Cause the valour is in the response and how you turn the page.

Now, discrimination is evil if allowed to dictate,

So, what can I say… I call CHECKMATE!

In My Backpack

From time to time, you will hear me say,

I put it in my backpack, meaning, I put it away.

I’ve been there, done that, and gained an experience

That’s not always pleasant and sometimes really serious.

But it’s a memory I have that’s deep inside

And only revisited; it’s only a guide.

A backpack it’s called ’cause it’s not on my side

And only serves purpose when one step behind.

A moment in time and a life-altering decision,

But there’s no other way, it’s the only vision!

Written in My Younger Days

Looking Out A Window

Looking out a window,

Hearing nothing but the silence of the night.

Over the treetops

Beams a radiant light,

Sending messages to my heart

And visions to my mind.

I wonder about the journeys

Of all humankind.

Fears begin to creep out

As the darkness unfolds.

I remember the days of being young

And the years of growing old.

Father is so much older

But his wisdom that much stronger.

Pushing himself to the limit

And feeling scared to wonder how much longer…

Can he go on

In a world that has to end,

My dear old Pop

With scarred hands to lend.

I pray for my brothers

Who strive to have some value,

To give them peace and strength

And the courage to accept failure.

I ask that Mother be understanding

And speak with a cautious tongue,

Allow the fools to be foolish

And the young to be young.

My mind is growing restless

As I search further into the glow.

I can see the face of a brother

That isn’t with us anymore.

God is watching over him,

I can see by his smiling face.

His life is so much brighter

Then it was down here in this place.

I think about my partner

And the life we have to live.

The happiness, peace, and understanding,

That is ours alone to give.

I can feel the love within me

For friends and family,

But I can only share a little

Of the biggest part of me.

As I look out into the darkness

While sitting all alone,

My friends and family are left out there,

For I can’t share my home.

They only know a part of me

That I can openly give.

The rest is my dark secret

Of the way I have to live.

But the light is flickering brighter,

Sending messages to my heart.

The ones who love me the most

Will someday play a part …

I hope they’ll understand

The true person that I am

And hope they’ll guide my wishes

With open hands.

I’ve chosen a path to follow

That doesn’t open many doors,

But the faith within me is golden

To conquer many wars.

As the glow beats down upon me,

I don’t feel any shame.

The love that I cherish

Overcomes humiliating names.

And I wonder

As I stare out into the light…

How many others are like me?

Looking out a window at night?

Rookie of the Year

The reddish soil beneath my feet

Felt many a mile by wandering cleats.

The white lines extended across the field,

Ferocious batters, being alert did yield.

As I strolled to my position, my knees a-knocking,

Sweat on my brow and my head a-rocking.

The glove was dangling on the palm of my hand,

Hoping and praying for flying objects to land.

My aides and companions were striving to fend,

Pushing for victory to be on top at the end.

Working together as an unbeatable team

And never once thinking it was an impossible dream.

My body seemed restless as the game grew intense,

Tho’ lacking experience, I used common sense.

My times at-bat were setting me down.

I struggled to hit, and I felt like a clown.

Tho’ out on the field, my spirits did shine

Cause at the crack of the bat that ball was mine.

In every direction, I possessed great speed,

Snagging the ball with a defender’s greed.

The team pressed on with hope and good cheer,

While boosting my ego, not prolonging the year.

Why do women rap their knuckles to the bone?

To fight for a purpose, not themselves alone.

To win the great trophy for the rest of the team,

A victor’s reward for valour unseen.

A memento of the hardship of being number one,

The best in the league, while still having fun.

The snow, the snow, the beautiful snow,

Concluded a summer for many I know.

The aches and pains of an offensive thrust,

The scars and bruises, a victor’s must.

Alone in the darkness, tucked away on a shelf,

Is a forgotten image of a person … myself!

The pain, the glory, the continuous fear,

That memorable time, I was Rookie of the Year!

To My Best Buddy

Today, I sat looking out to the west.

I smiled!

Amidst the clouds, I saw your face.

You smiled!

Hello, my friend, I said.

You reached out to me and I to you,

But as our hands touched, the clouds were gone.

Today, I sat!

Tomorrow, I’ll sit!

From someone who cares

Stretch

Vanished in the Night

Last night I had a dream

We went our separate ways.

But you were always there

On the other end of the line.

You were always there

On every word written down.

You were always there, in me.

Last night I had a dream

I met the evils of drink.

My mind was in a daze,

I said words unspeakable.

And when I hit that gutter

You were there to pull me out.

You were always there, in me.

Last night I had a dream

I thought I met my man.

He made me feel so nice,

Then he turned and walked out.

I fell into that gutter again,

And you were there to pull me out.

You were always there, in me.

Last night I had a nightmare

Mr. Drink knew me very well.

Made a fool of myself,

My mind was in a whirl.

Found the gutter but couldn’t take the dive,

And you were there to push me in.

There was no you, just me.

Yesterday was knowing you,

We laughed, we cried, we loved.

Even the memories were great.

Today, I woke up,

And my life was filled with hate.

That special feeling of a friend so dear,

Had vanished in the night!

Just Weren’t Meant to Be

Remember the times we laughed,

The times we cried.

A cup of coffee in the morn,

Sometimes a beer to wash down the night.

Oh, kid, we were so great together.

Our love was so strong.

Sure, there were times when we couldn’t face each other

And times we fought over a brother.

But we pushed all rough times aside

Like real friends should do.

I was so happy just knowing that you were there, with me.

How things all came to an end, I cannot describe.

We never thought there would be an end.

But lo and behold, here I am

And where, are you?

There is no you, just me.

Wherever you are, friend, I hope you’re happy.

And you know what, my friend,

I cannot describe it, but

For the first time, I think I really am.

Guess we just weren’t meant to be!

Flag Girl

Here I stand twenty miles out of town,

My sign in my hand and the snow coming down.

The guys are busy, there’s work to be done,

No time for laughter and no time for fun.

The trucks are hauling, the machine’s too loud,

I stand close by away from the crowd.

The wind picks up and I get a chill,

I see in the distance a car riding the hill.

I move in closer and take my spot,

An easier day had the weather been hot.

The car gets closer, he’s still on the fly,

Sixty miles an hour as he passes by.

I look at my sign, it still says Slow.

Why people can’t read, I’ll never know?

Sit down for coffee, says operator Nick.

Wish I could but someone would kick.

A mile done of road and things start to hop,

People are smiling, they don’t have to stop.

The day’s almost over and my feet are like fire,

But I still kick the rocks to spare someone’s tire.

Many different people, they come and go,

All they want is my sign to say Slow.

Another car’s coming, it’s rounding the bend,

Slow goes up and I’ve made a friend.

An hour to go, will the time ever fly?

The truckers are counting every minute pass by.

Another car coming and my sign starts to rise,

Doesn’t really matter, they all shut their eyes.

I can’t believe it, my eyes they winked,

At twenty miles an hour, she must have blinked.

Now the day’s done, and I’m feeling glad,

But sorry so many, drove away mad.

Ten hours a day, is it worth being done,

Making a better road for your cars to run?

You laugh and tease and sometimes shout,

But maybe it’s time you thought it all out.

We not only blast and cause destruction,

We are those they call Construction.

I Can Feel You Calling Me

(Gus’s Death)

It’s been such a long time since you were taken away

And I fight with the daily feelings of not having you anymore,

To share the joys and fears of the rough road that life could offer.

I miss not being able to see your smile anymore,

And I miss not knowing the person you’d become

So many years from now.

I can feel you calling me.

Day after day I fight the guilt of not seeing or knowing you more.

And then I think that the hurt is gone, and today, I’m able to go on,

But your memories come back to haunt me…

Or is it my wondering… wanting to know where you are now?

An unanswered question that can never be answered

Until I experience it myself.

And I can feel you calling me.

Making the days hazy and the nights lonely…

In the darkness of a lonely night

My thoughts reach out to you.

If only in a dream I am with you

And I’m telling you to go back,

Not to torture me.

Let me believe that you are gone forever

And that I will someday meet you again

If we are on the same path.

And I can feel you calling me,

Telling me to come to you.

We were meant to be in the same worlds.

The pull is getting stronger with every passing day.

Why do I hear you calling me?

How do you stop a wandering mind?

Please help me to relax and… live again!

The Maid

You made the big step and got yourself wed,

You got along great, had nothing to dread.

Now alone and confused with nowhere to go,

Meeting the real him has scared you so.

You feel like a maid when the chores never end,

The laundry’s a heap with so much to mend.

The baby’s growing into a fine little boy,

Papa’s not there to help share in the joy.

Now Junior’s little nose begins to pour,

Another five minutes the man comes through the door.

No time for tissue, his eyes become wet,

The meat is on the table; the menu was set.

Now the clock strikes six, and he comes through the door,

Wish you hadn’t scrubbed his boots mark the floor.

He nods his approval; the day’s work is done,

The easy part’s over, the hard part has begun.

He takes his place and waits on no one,

You wish you could leave but have nowhere to run.

He’s done in a minute, neglected Junior starts to bawl,

No need to worry, the maid is on call.

With loving care, you lift him off his feet,

Having Mommy is wonderful but having Daddy, a treat.

He’s gone to the living room to park his butt for the night,

You remembered his paper, the TV’s set right.

Many a day he would have liked to sit and talk,

Now he’d rather sit in his chair and rock.

Junior is in the tub cleaning up for the day,

Daddy, please come, please come and play.

Tend to the baby, leave the dishes for now.

Might as well do it, he doesn’t know how.

Now the kid is in bed and the dishes are done,

Time to relax, but he wants some fun.

In the bedroom with him, you try to relate,

One piece of paper signed away your fate.

Alone again, while his snores cloud the air,

Down come the tears you never share.

Married so young without a care,

Five long years, is your life going nowhere?

It’s morning again; he just walked out,

Another routine day you wanted to shout.

The meat is on the sink starting to thaw,

Little Junior’s up, asking for Pa.

You’d like to pack up, take Junior and go,

But the shame would come from so many you know.

You’ve done your duty and gave your man some joy,

Even pledged further and gave him a boy!

You gave everything from the day you wed,

Now’s the time to think of yourself instead.

Sit back, relax, and think what it’s about,

Maybe… just maybe… it’s time to get out!

Remembrance Day

Today’s the day I bow my head

And pray for those I know are dead.

They left one day to free our land,

Brave men were they who took a stand.

Few had lived and thousands died,

Wives at home forever cried.

Through swampy land and barren ground

Came the shots of lead and enemy sound.

With heads held high and bodies low,

They crawled over friends they didn’t know.

For days and nights, they wouldn’t tire,

Then came the shout:

Ceasefire!

Their weary eyes looked at the sky,

The war they fought had finally passed by.

Leaving the miles behind where they did roam,

They started the march to their Native home.

The wives stood waiting with children held tight,

They heard in the distance, Left right, left right.

The men they marched with not a sound

As they thought of others deep in the ground.

They came to a halt from their last mile,

Seeing their families, they began to smile.

There’s John, there’s Paul and even Dad.

Where’s Mike or Dick and brother Chad?

They cried for the land that now was free,

They cried for the ones they could not see.

Some men returned with limbs torn apart

But all were carrying a scar in the heart.

Those brave young men that I never knew,

I pray today for what you went through.

You gave us hope and courage too

And now we grow because of you.

For those who fought and live today,

The time you had no words could say.

And those who died for guns to yield,

Rest peacefully now in Flanders Field!

An Alcoholic

Her skinny hand is small and weak,

It finds the bottle that she does seek.

One swig of liquor to start the day

And this can wash the night away.

One more drink gets her to her feet,

Her dress is wrinkled; she’d been sick on the sheet.

Moving to the mirror, her eyes do stare,

Who is that woman standing there?

For thirty years it’s been the same,

This is her life, but what is the game?

She brushes her teeth to help hide the smell,

Others know but will never tell.

The curtain is drawn to keep out the light,

Her face in the morning is a sorry sight.

No time to change, her job does call,

There’s more to life than booze after all.

From nine