A Bizarre Eulogy

I recognize the work this marker did,
Helping to color all the dino-cats,
With its quite useful hue of grayish-green.
So sad since I that hue’s decline have seen:
I’ll miss that marker, but it’s work is done.

At least it’s been used up, did not dry out,
Fulfilled its purpose, a good marker-life.
For people perhaps that could be a guide,
To find their purpose and to live it well —
To do what one was born for, fear aside.

The picture I colored that inspired me to write this poem, a tribute to my dying marker

I endeavored to write in blank verse for this one. Linking with DVerse OLN, before DVerse goes on summer break. 🙂 

A Real Relief

I am so happy, to be feeling happy,
It is a real relief, to feel relief:
This is a gift, and if it stays steady, 
It's sure to save everyone a ton of grief. 

The quatrain above was written right after Mass 6 days ago. Overall, my mood has stayed steady and positive (THANK YOU, JESUS!). Even some things that have worried me haven’t had too much of an impact on my overall mood.

I’d been distraught over my birthday, but it’s actually been a great one (it’s today 😊🥳). Here’s a silly little poem I wrote this morning:

Soon after Strawberry Moon,
A new year's begun:
I've gone around the sun!

😀

Fun fact: I also have a twin brother. I call him my “Wombmate.”

Some Days, and Others

A short little poem for FOWC; MVB; and Same Same, But Different. That prompt is about finding synonyms, and our words for this week are:

  1. run (which is today’s MVB prompt word 🙂 )
  2. yell
  3. blue
  4. wrap
  5. smoke

 

Spirit so sad it makes me
                    want to sprint away,
     (If i had the energy) --
Body so tense it makes me
                 want to scream,

I am enveloped in mist,
Squinting to see through this haze,
                 and sometimes I do,
Today being one of those days.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

A Rainbow in Grayscale

This photo by Charley at Life in Portofino inspired me to write a poem. I was on the fence about posting it, but Charley was interested in reading it, so voilà.


Look at that magnificent sky,
Almost entirely clear of clouds,
With that expansive arc across it —

And where there are clouds,
They are at the top of the tree line,
Like foaming crests of ocean waves —

And take in the kaleidoscope
Of all those different colors
Inherent in the rainbow!

Photo by Charley, not me!

This photo struck me because it, to me, is almost a symbol of what it’s like to live with depression. People who have no idea what they’re talking about will say to “think positive” or “make a gratitude list” (as if the problem is that I’m ungrateful). However, it is true that finding little things that make me happy, little moments of beauty or cuteness (like the ducks) does help. I can recognize the sky, the nice clouds, the awesome rainbow — but often it’s like the most important part — the COLOR, the purpose almost, as well as hope — is missing. Tell me if you understand what I am trying to say, please. 🙂

At Least

Having been too busy yesterday to write much or to post anything, I want to write a lot today and maybe even post multiple times (this is your warning!). This poem was partially inspired by Brian’s prompt about “fleeting beauty” from last week. Also, it’s been hard because I’ve been eating a lot this week and ate a ton yesterday at my cousin’s wedding (how can you resist CAKE???).  I hate to admit it, but the eating-disorder “voice” never really goes away…

One thing that I notice when I do eat more is, at Sunday Mass, I actually sing better, and my voice is stronger. 🙂 That makes me happy.


At least I could sing strongly.
There’s a certain zest for life
That’s missing when you won’t eat
Wedding cake, or what
Your body really needs.

There’s a certain beauty
That doesn’t fade.

“At least” I could sing strongly?
That’s everything.

 

wk 262 zest

Click here to join in the Weekend Writing Prompt.

 

Writing that felt gut-wrenching. Pun intended. Eating disorders are very symbolic. 🙂 Okay, have a good day, all.

I Am Jealous of Saints Who Died Young

Today’s word for FOWC is “death.” I told myself, “Don’t go there, Jenna, especially since you’ve already posted today,” but here I am anyway, because it’s in my head already; I’m not going there if I already am there!

white skull on white wooden table
Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

The poem is one I wrote yesterday. It was basically a stream-of-consciousness, but I think it turned out well, and it’s not even that sad. It’s not hopeless. But it’s so true: This is horrible of me to say, but I am incredibly jealous of those saints who got to die when they were, like, 23 (like St. Thérèse). In the last few years, I have sort of been aware: “Oh, I’ve lived longer than she did now. Oh, I outlived him now.”

The worst part is, sometimes I don’t even necessarily want to go to Heaven. What I mean is, sometimes it would be preferable to me if we just ceased to exist after we die. That’s what I used to think, but now, for better or for worse, I know that annihilation is not an option. If there are only 2 options, I’d rather go to the good place. 🙂



Hey, if I die at thirty-three
Like St. Faustina, that wouldn’t be
Too long to wait, would it, anymore?[*]
I have been so impatient. What’s in store
Is too scary for me, but what has been
The past 3 years is not entirely
Pain. Far from it. Tomorrow (Lord willing)
I’ll gain merit from persevering
Through grace, and that joy will serve
To erase all pain. Refrain
From worrying. One day will cease that sting.

[*] It would still be a few years. After lasting this long, though, who knows? Sometimes I wake up and am just flabbergasted that I survived all this shtuff.

Hiding

Posting rather late in the day, as I didn’t even get a chance to look at the prompts until a couple of hours ago, but better late than never, right? For FOWC: Noise and MVB: Suspicious.


Trying not to cry,
Nevertheless I let
Suspicious noises sound:

Sniffles. Tissues
Crumpled where I
Set them aside.
Red-rimmed eyes,

Slightly bloodshot —
Must wait so that
I am not caught
In this vulnerability.

Some don’t want to see.

Photo by Vickie Intili on Pexels.com

I’ve actually had quite a good day, as was Wednesday, so I am not in this spot right now. The words just lent themselves well to the topic.

I want to be a part of it —
The biggest hug in the entire world.
I want to be engulfed, enveloped,
Held by Love itself, and feel
The biggest hug in the entire world.
But there are gunshots and I cry instead.

Revisiting “River” (again)

I have an older poem, even though it’s not Flashback Friday. Today, I was listening to this song, linked by Andrea, and it brought back memories. I’d never heard that guy singing it, but I like the song, and I remembered that I had written a poem about the song on 12/23/2021. So I thought it would be appropriate to share it; thankfully, it was not in one of the poetry notebooks that I gave to my friends, as I wasn’t sure. 


“Revisiting ‘River'” (12/23/2021)

Here I am, listening again
"I wish I had a river, I could skate away on" --
Not so sad as I was in the past, but
"I wish I had a river, I could skate away on."
That feeling is only momentarily gone
Not sure if it will last 'til Christmas dawn,
Not sure when it comes or goes, or why --
"I'd teach my feet to fly;" 
On that river I can skate away on -- 
Notes of music flowing on and on. 
My brother took this photo a long time ago, and I really like it.