Promised Threat

For Creativity Challenge Day 26: Threat


Promised Threat

Was married to an abusive
alcoholic bully, only slowly
coming to comprehend risk
running through my reality.

Came home from attending
school, to find him ensconced
in soft rocker, in only his skivvies,
with our four children, on
floor, fear and tears, in their eyes,
as he told them, that none
of them could move, until
at least one of them agreed
that I was a lousy mother,
never there for them, incapable
of love on any level.

I stood up slowly, and calmly
said, “I’m done now,” before
leaving to go into our bedroom.
Changed my clothes and sat
cross-legged on the bed,
meditating on those words
I had just spoken.

Later, he stepped into the room,
told me how he’d been talking
to a friend at work, about how
women, when they get a bit
older, maybe start “changing”,
often getting strange ideas, like
going to college, or getting
a job (I was 38 at the time).

He went on to say that my
going to school was nothing
more than a foolish idea, caused
by some hormonal imbalance
of early menopause. And that,
if I didn’t quit now, it would
probably mean the end
of our marriage.

Body trembling, trying to suppress
laughter singing through blood
stream, I told him that I too
had a conversation with a friend
that very morning. An intelligent
man, also a non-trad student, who
had softly asked me some questions
about that same marriage. After
listening to my honest answers,
he’d leaned across the coffee shop
table where we sat, grasped my hand,
and said, “Well, if the idiot ever
comes home and tells you it’s all
your fault because you’re menopausal,
“Run, like hell, Elizabeth, just run.”

The abusive bully had finally
made a promise I could
keep. The Orange man often
reminds me of him. Making
promises he has no intention
of keeping, threatening any
who might restrict, or disagree,
with his overly inflated ego.
Constantly lying about those
who might oppose his sleight-
of-hand notion of “progress.”
Building a ‘wall’ with the faces
of his own children, while blaming
others for his never to be mentioned

Perhaps, its time, to start laughing
when he speaks?

Elizabeth Crawford 12/16/2016

Notes: My apologies for the length. This is not so much a poem, but a vividly recalled memory, written down in a sort of short-hand form. It charged forward with the word threat,  and was far too obvious not to.



About 1sojournal

Loves words and language. Dances on paper to her own inner music. Loves to share and keeps several blogs to facilitate that. They can be found here:
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4 Responses to Promised Threat

  1. Mary says:

    Oh, how I would like to be able to laugh….but I am too afraid to.

    Glad you were able to get out of your situation, Elizabeth. Many don’t have the courage!

    Mary, laughter is medicine and light. When my distress gets too much, of late, I go looking for Trevor Noah, a black Englishman, who has an uncanny way of stating the obvious and making one laugh at its total insanity. And that laughter brings a lift to the spirit and sparks a light in the soul. We each must find a way through, or simply end up curled in a corner, too afraid to move.


  2. Sherry Marr says:

    Oh WOW! The timeliness (no accident) of the friend’s advice and the ex’s proclamation. Life gives us messages like that. I so identified with this read! Rock on, my friend. Every day we have lived since those years has been our triumph, and no wonder we perfected our long loud cackle.

    We had to Sherry, how else to survive? Laughter can be and is a weapon. Forgive the crudeness, but I learned, from personal experience, that laughter can wilt a stiff dick, faster than anything else. Laughter is a very good thing.



  3. Sherry Marr says:

    LOL, yup………been there, have seen it wither. Cackle.

    Thank you, my wild friend. I needed to hear that cackle today. And right backatcha, says the North Wisconsin Hillbilly…


    Liked by 1 person

  4. mhmp77 says:


    Perhaps, its time, to start laughing
    when he speaks?

    Yes, to counter threats with something not intimidating is the best policy. It might even set the other party thinking positively.


    Thanks for the comment Hank. And I agree for the most part. The problem is that I don’t think the Orange man can read a crowd very well. Excite them, rial them up? Yes, without a doubt, but he lacks the empathy necessary to truly read them. I keep wondering what he would do with a crowd that simply stared back at him in total and utter silence.



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