This image was taken while I was touring the aging and abandoned Eastern State Penitentiary. I liken it “anniversary” imagining upon seeing this somber image splayed upon me is that of one returning to the final resting place of a loved one.
Ferry Plantation House
March 3, 2016 1:40am
This was my first introduction to paranormal investigation with a organized team of investigators. I was invited to come by my friend and at the time, team member Jason. Initially I was attending simply to observe and potentially write an article about the team and the intrigue that comes with paranormal investigating. The team’s home base at the time was The Ferry Plantation House. If you want to read more about its history which includes an interesting witch or two, you can read it here.
The land of the plantation at its prime extended for miles. Over time that changed leaving it as it is now, as part of a cul-de-sac, surrounded by private homes and a large grassy field. Upon walking the grounds I noticed a tennis court in the middle of the field surrounded by trees and asked one of the team members about it as it seemed strikingly out of place. His response was “Oh that’s where the Indian burial ground is. The neighbors became weary of late night trespassers attempting to find and steal relics so they decided to cement it over to protect it.”
“Oh, okay” is all I can muster.
And then I saw the tree.
Seeing it off in the distance this tree was quite ornate to my eyes. Me being the nature lover I am, I had already made plans that I’d be coming back during the day just to take pictures of it. Its bare sloping branches in near perfect symmetry was impressive to me and kept me ogling it. The history of it, not so much.
Once upon a time part of what still stands of the plantation was once used as courthouse. The tree at that time was used for hangings for those convicted as well as the demise of slaves. The docent of Ferry Plantation House advised me that it is of public record that at least three slaves had been hung from its branches.
Approaching it I discovered the huge hollow at its base. I’ve always thought these were mysteriously awesome and this instance was no different. When one of the team members suggested I go inside of it, I didn’t hesitate. What happened next is hard to explain but I will try here.
Armed with a mini flashlight and a K-2 meter (used to detect spikes in electro magnetic energy which is said to occur when a spirit is present), I leaned in and positioned my body inside the tree. Much to my surprise the hollow expanded at least a hundred feet up giving me plenty of room to maneuver around. My own private oasis. In what little I know overall about trees, I do know that the size of a hollow is indicative of a tree’s age. With this being as large as it was, it was pretty obvious that I was standing inside what possibly could be over 220 years of history.
Alone in the darkness, I began to get this overwhelming feeling of sadness and the tree seemingly was pulling me, almost in a hypnotic kind of way. I know it sounds crazy. I know. But it’s what happened. I stood there with a sense of being anchored within the tree circling my flashlight above me peering at the empty space that was beginning to make my chest heavy. After a few minutes the voices of the guys outside grabbed my attention and its as if I came out of my trance. Upon maneuvering myself out of the tree I was hit with a second wave of emotion. The sudden need to cry. I stood there a moment longer just leaning back staring up at its beauty while the guys showed me a picture they’d snapped of me while I was inside. We slowly make our way back the house and I walk away with a sense of confusion but notice the further we distance ourselves from the tree, the heaviness of my chest slowly diminishes.
For more paranormal history and experiences at one of the most haunted places in Virginia, you can read more of the Ferry Plantation House unexplained here.
sing to me
in that calypso flow
let those words you could not say
go
let them fall
with fluid beat
as the rhythm of hands
stir
in this midnight heat
with the ghost of steel drums in the air
fill me with this you
raw
and
bare
carry me to that place
of fine china
and lazy days
plucking mint leaves
for afternoon tea
in a forest of dandelions
never lose sight
of that sheath of you
that glitter gold
beyond any others rainbow dreams
keep to your light
that slip and slide ride that shall collide
over and over if you feed it the peanuts
from someone else’s parade
find your tide
slow the breeze
drink that sun
steal that moon
alphabetize your stars
run baby run
i liken this image “you found me”. It was taken at Mission Concepcion in San Antonio, Texas and took my breath away upon walking upon it. Touring a historical cathedral is profound in itself. Coming upon a visual such as this. Breathtaking and empowering.
I captured this image in Charlottesville, Virginia not long after the incidents that rocked our nation happened here. Upon walking the streets of the downtown area it was beautifully apparent that hope was very much prevalent by way of street art that the city encouraged youth to participate in. I liken this image “evolve” as when I came upon its view it spoke of change, of growth of life eternal.
you are my pause
between chapters
a whirlwind of favorite scenes
taking my breath away
as fingers rest
to read you
over
and
over
again
I never knew what it was to be without fear
until there was him
how he led me to the shadows of my salvation
and i, easy prey
desperate for freedom
freedom to let these dark wings biting at my skin soar
and he, he sensed it, smelled it
and embraced every ounce
coaxing it
willing it
molding it
into this dark angel I became
life-long barriers quickly diminished
in this realm we created
debauchery was not a word
it was a way of life
and in it,
I thrived
I became an entity of me
in the trenches of my mind
the dirty, dark confines of one’s soul
where the sane distract themselves
from fear of getting ripped to shreds
that is where I lived.
i bathed in it
and he,
he was my water.
how i let him ravish my veins
turning me into his masterpiece
standing on the edge of his every word
waiting, wanting, needing
and when he came I drank him as he would taste the spoils of his creation
my sweet poison he was that I forcefully injected without haste
my daily dose of life that without, my breath would surely fail
and so we danced our dance a thousand nights from moonlight to a tipping dawn
how I knew even then with each new day brought with it this emptiness, this brokenness
this void that drowns me now
for he is gone
this false God I bowed to
this magician of sorcery
this beast that fed me in slow seductive doses
and now I am here in once our darkness
unable to stray
broken, addicted and derailed
waiting for my wings to come back to me
~J~
03/24/2016
that claiming cycle
of all that’s known
that quick fix
no thoughts of a future
no hand your way
stuck in a rhythm
of the now
daring you to think
outside a box
be this you
beyond the gen pop
*this piece was inspired by way of my work in the judicial system seeing the roadblocks that many of our youth are faced with due to culture and society.
