False Evidence Appearing Real

This week’s quadrille challenge at DVerse is about fear. As always, it is made up of 44 words, using the word “fear.”


Someone told me, years ago, that fear

Is a lie, False Evidence Appearing Real.

I have lost this person — loss a great

Fear — but have gotten to the

Other side. Fear is a lie, leeching life,

But how real it appears, and hotly sears!

Ugly Art

This poem was inspired by a few different things: firstly by Jill’s poem about this quote,

“Art often isn’t [nice] though it scrubs the soul fresh”

~ Jim Harrison

And also the quote itself, as well as some collages that I made several years ago. I enjoy making collages and used to create them often. I think that the visuals very effectively express the ways in which I am feeling, and looking at the collages brings me back to the place I was when I made them.

These collages were both made a few years ago, before I got treatment for my eating disorder. Without further ado, here is the poem inspired by them.

“Ugly Art”

These works of art are not pretty:

Collages with papers ripped

From their places on magazine pages.

Passive faces staring, pointing

Out my inadequacies, and hiding behind

A mask I cry mascara tears

And can’t relax, can’t you see

My confidence is gone, smiles pasted on?

Surprised By Joy

This poem was inspired by today’s passage from the Gospels, Matthew 13:44-52. This portion includes the parable of the man who found a treasure and, recognizing its surpassing value, buried it in a field and then sold all of his belongings and used the money to buy that field. Sometimes, we need to give up some good things in order to accomplish or attain better things or to reach a goal.


The life of faith is the pearl of  great price:

For it we seek and find, then sell and buy,

We may have to forego some momentary joys,

And sacrifice, but the reward’s a better choice.

 

It takes work to build a better life,

We must pass through mountains and valleys of strife,

But by the highest joy we will be surprised,

When we can claim the treasure on the other side.

Writing Space

This was inspired by poems by Jill and Jane about the places where they usually write.

IMG_20170729_082551138.jpg

The corner seat on the comfortable brown couch,

Light from outside the window streaming in the morning,

Cup of coffee in a mug I love in front of me,

And some books beside: A space that welcomes writing.

Worst Case

I signed my name, and an unspecified amount of time, away. I was scared, terrified, in unfamiliar territory, solo. I had sunk so low: emaciated body, crippling anxiety around eating, heightened fear and a sunken face. But this was not the worst-case scenario.

For I had been afraid of dying in my sleep and leaving my twin solo. I did not want to die but had become so afraid of true life. I was afraid of the unspecified fight in front of me, yet knew I could not live without refeeding, without facing fears that were killing me.

 

Grass peeks through concrete.

Water flows over large stones.

Dandelions blown.

 

I debated whether to post this or not. Linked to DVerse’s latest open link night.

Freedom’s Actions

On this Poetics Tuesday, Kim is challenging us to “flex our verbs.” We are to write a poem about a landscape using unexpected and powerful verbs. I did not completely follow the prompt, writing about freedom rather than a landscape, but I tried to “flex my verbs” and use plenty of natural imagery.


Freedom runs barefoot in a green field.

It’s hair flies behind it.

Freedom touches the sun

And breathes the cool breeze

Freedom, like water erodes barriers

And smooths a rocky cliff face

With persistence Freedom, like water

Extends arms to its oasis.

Freedom plays joyfully with destiny

And steps into it’s oceans deep.

 

Confirmation

This was written in response to DVerse’s haibun free for all. The topic was pretty much anything that actually happened to you.


It was a waterfall: the clove-spiced oil streaming down my face, from just above my head, through my long hair, even into my mouth as it journeyed down my chin, on to the waiting white towel around my shoulders. It was wonderful, this ceremony, being sealed with the gift of the Holy Spirit, and my whole family celebrating. Family, friends, and even strangers commenorating this step: I have decided to follow Jesus, even to a new place.

 

Arid summer day,

Living water courses through

Souls, brought together.

Confirmation Oil