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.

Empty Words

A last-minute post before I go to sleep. For FOWC: Platitude. I really feel this. I wrote this poem appropriately one minute ago. 


Don’t say only, “I’ll pray for you,”

Which I don’t mind as long as you

Follow through, but make it more than a 

Platitude: Don’t you think these tears

Could be alleviated by proximity, more than

Secret, hidden intercession with Divinity?

Please don’t leave me alone. 

 

 


I am a Christian who believes that prayer can help things. I equally believe that we are called to do more than “just” pray, if we can. EVEN THE BOOK OF JAMES SAYS THIS. 

The caps lock was accidental, but I’m keeping it because it’s actually perfect! 

That is all. Good night. 

SoCS, Clearly

There are so many blog posts to catch up on reading, plus other books that I say I want to read, things that I allegedly want to do — but when it comes down to it, I am often too agitated, tearful, or would just prefer to go to bed. Clearly, I am going insane — but this happens every 4th week, so don’t worry. Or do, if you want, as I just get more and more over this ish every time.

The Internet helps me, but Crazy Jenna shouldn’t have an Internet connection, or else I bother people, and you get posts like this. Clearly not good.


If you have read this far, I shall reward you with a poem (“reward”). I wrote this sijo about the ducklings yesterday.

They hatched a little later this year, yet we get to see them:
Ducklings swimming in the running water, gaining strength for flight,
Ducklings staying close to Mama, not far from her wide wings.

 

Costanza: May

A pleasant surprise: I was able to finish a Costanza poem for DVerse MTB today! I’d been looking forward to writing this but didn’t expect to finish before the link-up ended. 


 

The calendar stands now in May,
And that's not new, but two-thirds done,
The speed of time can sometimes stun.

It is a cold and gloomy day
Going slowly and sadly by,
Yet saying it's bad is a lie. 

Some moments make a shining ray,
Belonging and connection true,
A warmth inside like hearty stew.

"This too will pass." Nothing can stay,
Unrest to peace, peace to unrest
Again, time after time a test.

May this ship find a placid bay
To end its sailing. After tides
Throw this boat up and down -- subside.

The calendar stands now in May,
It is a cold and gloomy day.
Some moments make a shining ray,
"This too will pass." Nothing can stay,
May this ship find a placid bay. 
Photo by Hernan Pauccara on Pexels.com

If I Am Persephone…

I was inspired to write this by extending the metaphor a bit from yesterday’s poem. My poor mom.


Persephone gone so much of the year —
Her dear daughter — gone, there is no more Spring,
The leaves also fall as descend her tears,
Then winter wind imitates her wailing.
That missing presence causes constant stings.
She mourns her daughter lost down in the dark,
Small pomegranate seeds have left their mark.

I wanted to spin some words into something positive, but even though some pleasant things happened today, this is the best poem that got written.

evaporating

Yesterday was a great day! I got to hang out with friends and even see pictures of one friend’s new kitten and in-person tiny ducklings! This morning was also great, as I got to go to Mass and see people, even my priest’s dog (and he’s also really cool without the dog).

That’s why I can’t figure out why I feel like this:

less than half a day
cuteness and companionship
evaporating —

this is not my will
this is the monster’s bidding,
his chilling fingers

blindfolding my eyes,
blanketing my memory
life’s heat extinguished

descending circles
I am Persephone tricked,
taken to Hades

woman under the water
Photo by Life Of Pix on Pexels.com

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.