Way Back When

Today I’m participating in E. M.’s Sunday Ramble. It’s a nice topic and also fits well with other prompted words. 🙂 This week’s topic is “Childhood Memories.” 



What is your first good memory from your childhood? (If this is a trigger question for you, tell me how your day is and what the best thing is about today.)

Probably on my 7th birthday, when I received a Gameboy from my grandma. 😆 It was purple — my favorite color at the time — and she also bought Pokémon Blue version. My twin brother received a green Gameboy and Pokémon Red version from her. 

Name 3 things that you loved when you were just a youngster?

Play-Doh! Stickers! I also had a blast playing with makeup, especially with my friends, which is hilarious because I don’t wear any makeup now. 

What did you dislike, or even hate, when you were growing up?

Hmm… I hated (and still hate) drinking milk and eating melted cheese. I loved pizza but would take all the cheese off. 🤣 I still don’t like when something has a lot of cheese, but I eat pizza like a normal person now. 

If you could go give your younger self one piece of advice, what would you tell them?

I would blast my younger self with the message, “Your personality is different, not wrong.” I’m an INFJ, so I have always been very “sensitive” and intuitive. Growing up, many aspects of my personality were looked down upon in my family. I still have a bunch of baggage, NGL, but now I actually like how I am and don’t really want to be that different (as long as I stay sane haha). 

What kind of celebrations did you enjoy when you were little, and do you still like those celebrations now that you are grown?

I liked Christmas and my birthday a lot growing up (what kid doesn’t?). I still like Christmas, but it’s awkward now because I’m a Catholic, and the rest of my family aren’t even Christian in any meaningful way. My brothers are atheists, and I lived with my parents for 20 years before I found out that they considered themselves Christian, so there you go. 

As for my birthday, I no longer like it. In fact, I have had a crisis around my birthday for the past few years, and this year is no exception.   😭 It’s coming… *cue Jaws theme music* 

  • Bonus Question: What commercial did you always wait for to come on television as a child? (If you didn’t like commercials or television, what event did you wait for to come about when you were a kid?

I don’t remember liking any commercials. However, my brothers and I watched a ton of them because our family didn’t have a TiVo or anything yet. I remember wanting SO MANY toys, thanks to these commercials! I’m glad that my parents did not give in to most of my whining. 🙂

 

Not About Hats

I can wear several hats, but none of them fits very well.

There are some that people say look good on me, but I don’t really like them.

There’s one that I’m used to wearing, only now realizing it’s not quite comfortable (though I should have known from the beginning).

One of my hats has a ribbon.

My life is made up of hope-ribbons, shredded into confetti.

Let’s throw it in the air and have a party!


A 6-sentence story using the word confetti, combined with today’s SoCS: hat and the MVB prompt: Several. Glad to have finally written something, even if it’s a tiny little story that’s not actually about hats at all. 

Fire! :)

With today’s MVB prompt being “marshmallow,” I was inspired (I guess) to write this, for DVerse Poetics.


 

The best marshmallow 
Is the kind lit on fire, 
Golden-brown is overrated
Patience not needed for
The most delicious s'more:

Sandwiched 'twixt two
Graham crackers with rich
Chocolate, its sugar melts into
A gooey mess, highlight
Of a happy summer's night. 

Ideal s’more preparation — Photo by Kindel Media on Pexels.com

So Many, So Many, So Many

I started 4 poems this morning (and have a few unfinished from yesterday) without looking at any prompts. After looking at prompts, there are even more possibilities! 😅I love this, but it’s also overwhelming.


So many, so many, so many ideas
Become a traffic jam on the freeway of my brain;
So many spaces of notebook remain
Empty, causing a mind-crash and nearly a defeat:
Yet here the words flow finally, as a tenuous victory. 

Linked with MVB: Empty and also partially inspired by MLMM’S Saturday Mix: Opposing Forces. I like to try to use alliteration and assonance, the repetition of consonant and vowel sounds, in my poetry. 😁

Side note: THANK YOU to everyone who left a comment on my poem from about a week ago, “Something Inevitable.” I don’t always respond to comments, but I appreciate each one, and I was BLOWN AWAY by the response to that poem. Thank you. 😊 You inspire me to keep sharing. ✨️

Something Inevitable

Today’s challenge for DVerse Poetics is to write on the topic of one or more of the five stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance). I’ll try not to focus on Depression, for once. 🙂 This seems to be quite a challenge for me, but as a writer, I am probably capable of it. The picture is one I took last year.


I’ve been grieving for a long time. At 19 years old, an eating disorder took over my life, almost took my life. Then I spent 4 years recovering. Those are 4 years I’m never going to get back, 4 years when the rest of my peers graduated from college and got jobs, maybe even started families. I feel behind, like I’ll never catch up. Covid didn’t help anything — thanks to that, life became even more on hold. All my life seems to be made up of recovering from previous life.

I used to wonder how I developed an eating disorder in the first place. Now, after having done a ton of therapy and realizing the commonalities between me and other sufferers, I am more surprised that it didn’t happen earlier.

I’ve been briefly in the “acceptance” stage, believing that God has something else for me, that God is writing a beautiful story. Maybe He is, but that doesn’t stop me from stalking over to the “anger” stage. With a birthday coming up in only 6 weeks, I am seeing even more starkly what is lost and finding fewer and fewer ways to replace it.

“growth in everything?”
see skeletal arms reaching,
a withered fig tree

IMG_20210415_140120893

Well, that was sadder than I intended. I failed my self-imposed “try not to cry” challenge.

NO. WAY.

Shock:
I’m not fine
I am never fine,
Dare to peer in this brain of
Mine?

See:
Look at me,
Does anyone care,
Beyond a few words and one
Prayer?

Days
Seem static,
Going nowhere while
Brain runs off a cliff or it
Fries.

FINE

Good time to reprise this photo

My thought process before this: “Okay, I finally finished that happy poem from last week. Let’s let out the other stuff.” MVB: Shock. FOWC: Anybody (close enough?). Then I started writing and realized I could make it into a Quadrille for DVerse; the week’s word is “static.”  I’m not linking this up with it but figured I’d give credit for the inspiration. 🙂  At least I’ve written more now!!

A Bug’s-Eye View

Taken in my backyard on Friday, when I thought it would be an especially good idea to be out in the sunshine. I was trying to get a bug’s eye view of the garden and then took several pictures in order to make it worth the time spent getting back up! 😆

My response to “Last on the Card” for April. I also have a tanka to go along with it:

big pebbles, tall plants
flowers a long way away
viewed from the hard earth

this yard is a bug’s whole world
this world — much lies beyond it

 

Duplex: An Attempt”

The prompt for day 27 was to write a “duplex” poem, similar to a sonnet in that there are 14 lines (but not in any other way that I could see). I was excited to try this form and happy to have been able to write one, whether or not it is even good. 🙂 Also linked to MVB: Voice and FOWC: Forgo.


There are too many possibilities, and none.
What if parallel universes existed?

In which universe would our lives intersect again?
Is there a way I could have stayed happy?

I’m happy about this poetic voice, even if
It means there was much else I needed to forgo.

What is meaning, and what is need? Is it
Only what we dream, or is it concrete?

I used to dream. Now emotional concrete greets
Every attempt at flying. Now all I can do is

Attempt to place cushions where I often hit
Bottom. This is one time in a succession of many,

Succession of twenty, maybe thirty years if I’m (un)lucky —
There are too many possibilities, and none.

woman with orange and blue powder on her face
Photo by Sergey Katyshkin on Pexels.com