Barefoot – A Reflection

This poem titled Barefoot was authored by Akiane kramarik at age 9 in her book titled My Dream Is Bigger Than I – Memories of Tomorrow – Part Three Page 104.  “You will need your own copy of this book to view the full text of this poem.  I limit quotes for the purpose of discussion and to follow copyright guidelines that allows for limited quotes.”

This poem Barefoot consists of six stanzas with three lines each. I look at each stanza as one word which with six stanzas makes up six words. This poem talks about lust and infidelity and the barefoot of the new born child conceived out of lust or infidelity. To sum up this poem I can use five words which are the numbers of toes on our feet. I am also number five out of eight children. I will call this a five word story. Barefoot Fenced In Eternal Vows. I remind my readers to purchase your own book from Akiane Kramarik which you can do online. Check with bookstores too Barnes and Noble may carry this book. The title is My Dream Is Bigger Than I by Akiane Kramarik. I limit quotes to follow copyright guidelines that allows for limited quotes for purposes of discussion and reflections. What I did was simply capture the essence of Akiane’s poem in five words. To tell a five word story. The photo graph I picked for this reflection is the footprint of my new born boy’s foot done the day he was born. The tiny wristband you see was once around my baby’s wrist to identify him as my unique new born baby. When my baby was placed by the nurses with all the other newborn babies. I could not tell these babies apart to me all of the newborn babies looked the same. So that when I would go to see my own baby. I could not tell which baby was my baby. The hospital I gave birth in was excellent. They had a little tag on my baby and all the newborn babies with a scanner so that the nurse would scan and know which baby belonged to which mother. I received excellent care and Martha Goedert was my midwife who was wonderful. During the time of the birth of my son I was on my own alone and I was abandoned by mankind. I became pregnant as part of this five word story “Barefoot Fenced In Eternal Vows”. I was raped by a Roman Catholic Priest who was ten years older than me at the time and who was my spiritual director. I used to schedule spiritual direction appointments with him. I am telling this story here to help others avoid the same pitfall I fell into. I was born into an Irish Roman Catholic family in Ireland. Roman Catholicism was spoon fed to me from the day of my birth. Roman Catholicism was force fed to me as a young girl growing up and who attended school in the Irish school system. I was conditioned to be Catholic from my infancy and throughout my life. I recently discovered that my now elderly mother who is 85 years old and will be 86 this year in summer of 2020. That my poor mother was likely accessed for abuse outside her loving home growing up in Ireland in the 1930’s. My grandfather who was my mother’s father was a Garda in Ireland and he died in the 1930’s when my mother was only four years old. I never met my grandfather who like so many Irish who went before him – died too soon. In the 1930’s in Ireland children were systemically and categorically removed from the homes of the poor and downtrodden Irish homes. By both church and state and these children were placed in industrial schools. Such as St. Joseph’s Industrial School in Letterfrack county Galway Ireland for the boys. Or St. Columba’s Industrial school for girls in Westport County Mayo. To grasp what I tell you here a study is needed on the problem of systemic abuse done in the name of God to the children of Ireland. Look up the Ryan Report online. A good place to start is Wikipedia. I provide this link here for your reference: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Commission_to_Inquire_into_Child_Abuse I have personally visited the mother baby home in Tuam Ireland. I have also personally visited mass graves in Ireland where children were buried at midnight over centuries of systemic abuse. This systemic abuse was part of the silent war done under the art of war and perfected by none other than Napoleon Bonaparte of France. Napoleon Bonaparte of France was a ruthless warrior and while he was horrible at the game of chess this man was an evil genius. Napoleon Bonaparte of France made an unholy ungodly alliance with the papacy in Rome Italy. Which meant that Napoleon himself was able to cherry pick the top prelates in the Roman Catholic Church for not just France but the world. This is known as the Concordat of 1801. This Concordat was formally promulgated Easter Day 1802. I include this link as my reference source for this information. https://www.britannica.com/event/Concordat-of-1801 – You will find this refresher course in history fascinating. What the public around the world including Ireland were not told. Was that large industrial schools were built in Ireland unbeknownst to the public. These massive brick and mortar buildings were many and very large in size. A systemic diabolical war commenced what I call the war of the womb the war of all flesh the war on holy families around the world. One in three boys in Ireland are accessed for abuse and one in four girls in Ireland are accessed for abuse. I make no claims as to statements of facts I am simply telling you my story. My story is not just my story my story is part of a larger story part of our Irish Heritage and Irish Experiences that was for centuries shrouded in a mysterious cult like dark cloud. By the time I was born which was 1972 – thousands of Irish children who were adults like my own parents were likely accessed for abuse at some stage of their growing up years. In fact a grown adult from Ireland who could say they were never abused is an anomaly not the new horrible norm. My father was a kind man and robins would land on his hands. My father who is now deceased and may he rest in peace had a lot of empathy. My father was not a wicked abusive type though he could be mean verbally and physically -my father was not a wicked man. My father was an alcoholic and everyone who knew my father knew that he was a serious alcoholic. My father was well liked and loved by all his friends and especially by all eight of his living children. My father bonded with all eight of us in his own unique way. It is because I had a stable father who despite a serious problem with alcohol was devoted to my mother and his family. I fond memories of my father teaching me at the tender age of four my math times tables. I would be seated on my father’s lap and he would teach me lessons. My father was my first teacher and as such I was home schooled before I started school in Ireland at the age of five. My mother was excellent at bonding with all eight of us as wee babies. As a doting mother over her new born infants you will not find better. I saw my mother with my youngest brother and she was wonderful to watch. I have fond memories of my doting mother giving me my baths as an infant I fit into the kitchen sink which is where my mother bathed me in soft sweet smelling baby soap. I remember one diaper change because I had a bad diaper rash. My doting very busy mother remember I was her number five put soothing cream on my rash and I got better. As a toddler my mother taught me my prayers and instilled in me from a very young age a sense of the sacred. It was my own doting Irish mammy who instilled in me my Christian faith a faith that grew as I grew up. A faith that never left me despite years of abuse. As a little girl I loved to run and play in the field behind our house and I loved to sing. I was not good at singing so I was often told to shut up. I was a very joyful and joy filled happy child. At the age of five my happy world changed for a very long time. My oldest brother was accessed for abuse outside our home and he perpetuated this abuse at home by molesting me. My oldest brother was not much older than me. When I was five he would have been between the ages of 9 – 11. Sorry I do not remember my oldest brother’s exact age difference. My brother molested me sexually for many years. My other two older brothers also molested me and my two Younger sisters for many years. Home no longer felt safe for me. So at the age of nine I decided to run away from home. While literally running away from home. I received what I call an infused mystical message from the God of life my creator and heaven. I was told via thoughts that if I ran away from home things would be much worse and I would not survive or live to tell the tale. After about twenty minutes of intense infused thoughts. Not fully understanding at age nine how or why things were worse away from home. I returned to my home and my family. I did not know that in 1981 at the age of nine industrial schools were still operating in Ireland. These industrial schools are nicknamed Irish Gulags and the nuns with the title sisters of mercy were nicknamed sisters without mercy. At the age of nine in 1982 I knew nun of this – pun intended. All I knew is life was very hard for me at home. I obeyed my own instinct and returned home to my family who never knew I had planned to run away from home. The thought process that occurred at the age of nine involved many reminders of how wonderful and good the food was at my house. That was true we were all very well fed by our doting parents. My mammy was and is an excellent cook and my father was a great cook too. Our home was always heated and warm in winter and we were very well fed. My saving grace was the good food and warm home and our doting parents. If my parents had failed in their task of showing all eight of us warmth and love our stories including my own story would be very different. My poor mother was very verbally and physically abusive and I was terrified of my own mother. I was black and blue many days in bruises on my legs and arms from beatings from my mother and my abusive sibling brothers. I grew up feeling worthless and the years of verbal abuse were the worst. My mother used machine gun style verbal abuse on me. Not one of us including dad could understand why mammy was like this. Our mother was and is a good woman in many respects. None of us could understand where the verbal and physical abuse came from. It was like there were two sides to my mother. A wonderful loving side and a demonic abusive side. My mother would rage and gnash her tongue between her lips and ball her hands into fists and beat the day lights out of me. As a toddler I recall being forcibly held on my belly lying flat on my belly held down by my own mothers hand on my back while she pummeled me on my bottom with her other hand for being bad. I was still in diapers when I was beaten for being bad. One day after observing my older sibling brothers use the bathroom. I figured out by myself how to remove the plastic pants then remove the safety pins from my cloth diaper and remove my own diaper to then sit on the toilet. I would then put my own cloth diaper back on safety pins and all and pull up my plastic pants. My mother was very pleased I figured that out and switched me from diapers to underwear. That is the only time I recall ever pleasing my mother. I vividly recall how much more my beatings hurt when I was no longer in diapers. Growing up nothing I did or did not do was ever good enough for my mother. My mother was very angry often and my mother showed me a lot of anger. I understand better now the pathology behind my mother’s bizarre behavior. Due to systemic abuse in an Irish Gulag Industrial school as a little girl from the age of four on up. My mother was altered from systemic abuse. I make no claims as to statements of facts since to get my mother’s school records my now 85 year old elderly mother would need to request her own school records. I would not put my own elderly mother through the trauma of asking for her own school records. That is how trauma based control works. Trauma bonding was used on my mother outside her home and while the trauma bonding is no longer enforced. Trauma based control prevents me from risking triggering a trauma based response in my elderly mother by asking her to request her own school records. Heaven knows the fear based control instilled in my poor mother as a holy innocent child. It is because I have empathy I would not put my own mother through any events that could trigger in her a trauma based response. In fact it is not ethical to ask victims of trauma to speak or do a thing about their past trauma for to do so would be cruel and merciless. The only time victims of trauma speak is on their own terms and only when they are good and ready. I suffered from complex post traumatic stress disorder for years. Counselors over the years told me that my own fibromyalgia chronic pain is due to trauma. Fibromyalgia is my body in flareups of chronic pain because cognitively my brain cannot tell my body I am now ok that the trauma has passed. I have healed a lot in the past ten years of my life. I am now 47 years old. I am still processing new information related to traumatic events from my past. It takes years for children who were abused to process their trauma. This explains why the statute of limitations is so effective in silencing victims of childhood abuse. In the 1990’s more was being revealed about systemic abuse. Then in the 2000’s terms like pedophile were being used that were foreign terms to families like my family. At the age of 16 I never knew the term pedophile existed. I was able to file police reports about abuses done to me and my family. These reports were not against my own immediate family but against prelates in the Roman Catholic Church who accessed my family for abuse. I recently spent two years in Ireland May 2017 – July 2019 learning about the problematic grave evil of systemic abuse that affected many Irish families including my own family spanning centuries of systemic abuse. This systemic abuse done by the wicked produced many abusive type adults some worse than others. My mother and father were unintentionally abusive not wicked. There is a big difference. The wicked are wolves in sheep’s clothing who appear good wholesome and trustworthy yet rape and destroy children and their parents in the dark in the name of God of all things. My son’s father was not in my opinion wicked. He is in my opinion altered from childhood abuse of his own. He is from the country of India. When my pregnancy from that rape was made known I was forced due to verbal abuse from my own immediate family and others to relocate from upstate New York to the mid-west of America. My pregnancy was a crisis pregnancy and the reason I did not report the rape then was because like many Roman Catholics I was conditioned to believe this was all my fault. Growing up I was told to never get pregnant outside of marriage or I would find myself shipped off to a mother baby home. My father used to tell me to get my education and work hard because young women can no longer depend on good men to support them. That advice stuck with me that and my father’s advice to work hard to avoid “the bowery”. – The bowery is a term used to describe homelessness. I did what my father said and I completed a four year degree and got my bachelors of science in business administration with an economics minor. I also completed two more years of college so that I now have six years of college completed. I worked hard and got my education. Looking back I do not know how the hell I did all of that since I was altered from years of hell on earth and was suffering then from complex post traumatic stress disorder including Stockholm syndrome. I am providing this link to help you to understand Stockholm syndrome here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stockholm_syndrome After years of child abuse I had become a prisoner of my own mind. Years of professional counseling and therapy helped me to learn how to cope but it was not until my recent two years in Ireland was I able to get to the bottom of the pathology of cycles of abuse perpetuated by my innocent mother and siblings. My parents are innocents and my siblings are innocents victims themselves like I was of the fallout of systemic abuse in Ireland. The wicked are the pedophile pederasty priests and nuns who had unfettered access to holy innocent Irish children for abuse. It is truly wicked to do indecent acts to boys and girls in the name of a Christian God of all things. I left the Roman Catholic Church in 2017 and will never return unless I see these churches force closed with the help of the military ordered by the government under the term estoppel force majeure which is the legal term for the use of the superior force of the military. After all what was done to children in the name of God are war crimes as is the machine gun style verbal abuse that went on for centuries. Mankind does not need fine expensive brick and mortar buildings to be Christian and to know their God of life. Our God of life is everywhere not limited to stupid pompous structures filled with every kind of sin and vice known and not known to mankind. By the time I was raped and became pregnant with my child. Years of conditioning through abuse set me up to silence this crime but not filing a police report. It was only after I returned to the USA from Ireland did I realize what needed to be done. I filed police reports about abuses I endured while living in the USA by the Roman Catholic Church. The reason you see my child’s footprint is thanks to both of my parents. Who despite serious problems succeeded in instilling in me their number five that abortion is homicide – abortion is murder legal or not murder is still murder and homicide is still homicide. The verbal abuse I got during my pregnancy included suggestions of abortion and a death threat from another viciously angry prelate who told me my child should never ever have existed at all. The prelate who viciously threatened me has mysteriously disappeared from the limelight. Like so many others of his evil ilk and stature he too seems to be in hiding. I got no emotional or spiritual support during my pregnancy and many in the pro life movement who call themselves pro life verbally abused me. One woman named Sara an abortion survivor herself would not stop verbally abusing me and my child. Sara tried to physically smother my baby boy as a small child by placing her hand over my son’s mouth to force my son to stop crying. Had I not known to check when my child fell silent my son would be dead today. When I caught Sara in the act of harming my son I had to demand Sara to hand me back my child. Sara did this my son’s little face was blue and miraculously he was able to cry again when I held him in my arms. Because of my own trauma my brain could not process what Sara did to my child till years later. My infant boy is now almost twelve years old and it is only now that I can write about horrible Sara. Sara told a man named Doug that she though that my son and I were the seed of the devil. Doug told me this himself and apologized for horrible Sara. Trauma can freeze our minds and our brains cannot process new trauma quickly. This is true in my case. Before moving back to Ireland I was able to confront horrible Sara and tell her what I think of her which for horrible Sara who is very proud and full of herself came as a shock. Sara is a devout staunch Roman Catholic a horrible woman who looks good on paper due to marriage and at least seven children from that marriage. Sara is whacked a whacked out organized religious nut job on steroids. Sara claims to be pro life yet she hates single mothers like me. Sara promotes and encourages contraception in her own home and in the community. I got a text from Sara asking me and I quote uneducated proud horrible Sara here “What’s wrong with a little contraception?” Sara’s own mother tried to abort Sara and her own wicked awful mother never let Sara forget that she is a failed abortion. Talk about trauma bonding. Unlike horrible Sara I am number five of eight children welcomed with open arms by two loving parents. I had a doting mother and father. I was very bright as a child and was a year ahead in Ireland in the Irish school system. One year I was obliged by my teacher to repeat a year. That did me a world of good. I still graduated high school in the USA at age 16 though I was college level at age 14. I got my four year degree in the USA at the age of 20. My siblings are also very bright. One sibling is a civil engineer and another sibling graduated high school at age 15 and became a full fledged Registered nurse in record time in three years. She passed her boards with flying colors the first time she took them. She was seventeen or eighteen years old then. My message to horrible proud women like Sara is this. All children no matter how they come are prefect and pure white as the driven snow. To call a holy innocent child a seed of the devil is to curse that child and it’s mother. I was raped something horrible women like Sara never bothered to concern herself with. Coercion was used and I was coerced into having sex with a horrible man ten years older than me and who was in a position of authority over me. Coercive control was used in my case as was ambient verbal abuse and other methods done by my child’s father to me. To lead me down a road of false love where I was led to falsely believe that man loved me. That man abused his position his authority to abuse and rape me full stop. The blame was all heaped on me and I was left to carry the burden of that man’s crime alone. Yes I was given help but the price I paid for that help was more abuse. The damage done to me spiritually and emotionally was the worst. The Roman Catholic Church is very cult like and expert in their craft of victimizing children and adults then reversing the roles by playing the victim. The statute of limitations around the world systemically categorically silences victims of childhood and adulthood abuse. My child is innocent my child was always innocent and I curse in the name of the God of life all who dare to curse my child me and my family both past present and future for all eternity. Barefoot are our eternal footprints created by the God of life. Just as the God of life gave Noah the power to curse his own son Cham for failing to clothe his nakedness when he became innocently drunk on his own wine that he had made. I too stand on the word of God and on what God has spoken to the tribes and curse for all eternity all who failed to clothe the nakedness children born and unborn and men and women born and unborn. To reference this you will find this curse in Douay-Rheims holy bible in Genesis Chapter 9 Verse 25 Which I quote here: “He said: Cursed be Chanaan: a servant of servants shall be unto his brethren.” Cham is the father of the tribes of Channan. Japheth the father of Javan who was the son of Noe is the father of many tries including my tribe Dodanim also known as the tribe of Dan. Japheth is the grandfather of the tribe of Dodanim through his son Javan. You can see this yourself in Genesis chapter 10 verses 2-4 – Douay-Rheims holy bible. Therefore, in the name of my God the God of life and in the name of Noe the great grand father of my tribe Dodanim – under the curse given by Noe to Cham and Chanaan – I one from Dodanim the ancient tribe of Dan curse the wicked and the the proud who will fall by the sword of their own words that they live by. I let all who dared to curse my holy innocent family and my lineage to fall under the curse of my own great grandfather of my tribe Dodanim – let the wicked fall under the sword of their own words. Let the words of the wicked convict and condemn themselves before the throne of the God of life – their reward is their own devices. The devices of the wicked will be used against the wicked as the wicked self destructs from within slaying themselves from the Trojan horse of their own devices. This is my voice my story and as a work of art I am free to express this as art while making no claims as to statements of facts. Heaven is full of the good destroyed by the devices of wicked – the reward for the wicked is self destruction self annihilation!!! The weapons of mass destruction used by the wicked will be turned against the wicked by their own doing. Their reward for their wicked ways is total self annihilation. Enjoy this song that I wrote titled the Unkeepers Here: From the playlist I also included at the end.