My Favorite

A repost of my favorite poem I’ve ever written, for MLMM’s Sunday Confessionals, also shared with the link-up at Poets and Storytellers United. Linking with DVerse Open-link on 8/18/2022, so I will be reading it aloud.

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“Call Me Hagar”

I feel alone, connection’s far tonight,
I see no smiling star tonight.

Even the moon has forgotten its light.
Shrouded, it makes the sky dark as tar tonight.

My mind sees a battlefield near:
What emotions will I need to spar tonight?

Depression, restlessness, fear, anxiety?
What demons come to wound and scar tonight?

Yet hope alone, even now, can fight
The darkness; complete despair I’ll bar tonight.

In the midst of these anxieties God sees:
I sob in God’s arms. Call me Hagar tonight.

Landai for [name redacted]

When I think of you, this beating heart
Swells, like an ocean wave flowing toward the shoreline,

Without you I feel a bit adrift,
A little sail-boat unmoored, alone on the ocean

I love you like the waves love the sand,
Even if I know I'm made for depths and great journeys --

You will be there with me in each gale,
Yet staying means I'll never get to where I'm going.

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

 

A rather melancholy group of landai, inspired by FOWC: Swell. Sharing with Friday Writings.

Looking for Meaning

Today’s MVB prompt is “assuage,” and last week’s Friday Writings optional prompt was “stay curious.” I finally have a rondelet poem for this. 🙂

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Stay curious
To assuage some pain, intervene,
Stay curious
When life appears purely vicious,
What is underneath the smokescreen?
What good could come? What does this mean?
Stay curious.

The Correct Time

This poem is one that I wrote today, inspired mostly by the 2 one-word challenges from yesterday (“Correct” and “Time,” as the title gives away). Sharing with the Friday Writings at PSU, which I haven’t linked up with in a long time. I usually don’t post 3 times in one day but wanted to share a poem that was actually written this day.

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Is this the right day, the correct time?
Already so much gone, impossible to climb
The mountain ranges of pain and regret —
Too much of life long-spent, wrong-spent
In a highly-inhospitable climate.

Oh, so much lost, and at such a high cost —
But don’t let it extort, distort any more,
Now is the correct time to move for-
-Ward, poured into something new, as yet unheard.

Fun fact: Even as a little girl, I was extremely bothered by the passage of time. It’s evident even in entries from when I was 8 or 9 years old! No wonder I’m like this… XD

Gift Today

I wrote this shadorma yesterday. It was a very joyful day, especially in the morning. Linking with the Friday Writings, where the prompt has to do with peace, but the prompt is optional. I suppose it is peaceful to be enjoying the day and to not have a random mood swing!

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joy-bubbles
rising in heart-glass:
drink it up,
notice it,
mysterious loveliness
in ephemera

 

Sparrowlet

Our challenge at DVerse on Thursday was to write a “Sparrowlet” poem. I’m now too late to link up, but I would be remiss if I didn’t at least try to write in a form that sounds like a little bird. 🙂 I wrote 2, single-stanza sparrowlets. Linking up with the Friday Writings.

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A Letdown

I have waited for a long time today, in anticipation for some poetic inspiration to come, but aside from a few lines, I have almost nothing.
Additionally, I had a really good morning today (because it is Sunday 🙂 ), but I can feel myself deflating like a balloon.
I felt inspired after Mass today because the Scripture and homily were encouraging, but now I’m back to wondering why God would ever bother to make someone as weak as me. Haha, but also it’s not a joke and I’m serious. So, I can understand, at least much of the time, that I guess God likes how He made me and/or made me this way intentionally, but that just leads me to ask the question:

Here’s a poem I wrote a long time ago, in December 2015 or January 2016! 😀

“Lot’s Wife Goes to School”

 I wish I’d done drama or sung in the choir,
Not afraid to life my voice higher
Than the quiet lull of conformity.
I was never me.

I wish I’d not wasted so much time chasing A’s:
Fear became tangible, and
Shame was the name of the game,
Pressure to achieve that goal,
But there are such better ways to appraise,
Closer to my soul.

It’s no one’s fault,
But my life
Is littered
With pillars
Of salt.

Shared with the Friday Writings because it’s already Sunday.

Take Care

On this Sunday, I am linking to the Friday Writings, which has an optional and interesting prompt, but you can link up pretty much whatever you want. My décima poem is for Ronovan Writes’s current challenge. I forgot about last week’s so didn’t want to forget this time!

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Take care when turning on the news:
Don’t take in too much tragedy,
Sensationalized on TV,
And words of fearmongers refuse.

It’s difficult, but let us choose:
The world today is full of fear,
But we need peace, and hold it dear.
Uncertainty over what will
Be is likely to make one ill,
So let us rest in Who is here.

Dear 2021….

Inspired by the current prompt for the Friday Writings, even though I can’t link up because I already linked up something different yesterday. Warning: I am very honest in this post, so it might be depressing and/or distressing. I liked these pictures, found on the original post:

Dear 2021,

At the end of each year, I usually like to do a sort of retrospective and reflect on the past year: “What happened? How did I grow? What goals did I accomplish?” This is the extent to which that is going to happen.

What did happen this year? I’ve been unemployed since the start of the pandemic (was it only last year that things were normal?). I’ve tried to find a job, yet mental health and lack of motivation has hindered doing very much. I also don’t want to have to wear a face mask, and maybe people would tell me, “Just suck it up and do it,” but I just can’t right now.

So, “what did happen this year?” I certainly wrote a lot, and I prayed approximately a thousand rosaries. 🙂 That’s the redeeming aspect of this whole mess: the prayer groups that I’ve discovered, that I believe God led me to. Without them, I would feel more lonely, more alone, more useless — overall, even more crazy!

Another great thing is that, in October of this year, I got to attend a Latin Mass! The only other time I’ve been able to do that is nearly 5 years ago, and I was so happy to rediscover how beautiful and sacred and holy that was/is. Now, let’s hope and pray that our pope doesn’t try to quash it any more than he already has….

I suppose one thing I can be proud of is that this year, I survived 2 suicide attempts, in July and in September. Please, someone give my Guardian Angel a promotion.

In my usual year-end reflections, I also ask myself what I am looking forward to in the coming year. The image that is above exemplifies that, at least the best-case scenario. Not sure what I’m looking forward to, to be honest. The positive is that the prospect of the year 2022 doesn’t completely fill me with dread. The apprehensiveness is accompanied by curiosity, like, “What is going to happen next?”

I will definitely keep writing poems. I do that almost as often as breathing. My hope is to keep being a good friend and to love people. I try to make the world a better place because it is hard enough as it is.

And there you have it.

Overcast

chilly city air:
taciturn whispers of rain
skyward, in the gray