That Dramatic Irony Though

Another repost for Fandango’s Flashback Friday, just like last week. On January 13, 2020, I posted this poem, titled “The Twenties. Linked with JusJoJan day 14.


The Twenties

This decade we return to
The roaring twenties —
Back then there were plenty
Of threats, just no one knew
About them yet.

I wonder if these twenties
Will be roaring —
When it seems more likely
That I, for one, might be
Cowering and whimpering.


“Might be” — yeah, just maybe… *RW laughs until she cries*

brown framed eyeglasses on a calendar
Photo by Olya Kobruseva on Pexels.com

Would You?

A cherita inspired by MVB: Girl. I’m actually not this depressed right now, so I’m not sure where this is coming from. The picture of the cute little fawn is because looking for an illustration for this post was pretty dark, but the fawn showed up for some reason. Voilà, incongruity!


If you knew the entirety of a life,

As this infant grew into a girl,
Then an adolescent, then a woman

And you knew everything that would happen,
Including how and when she would end,
I wonder if you’d celebrate her birthday?

baby roe deer standing and looking
Photo by Amber Kipp on Pexels.com

A Poem on December 30th

This is a timely week for Brian’s current prompt, Past and Present. I don’t really want to think about the new year. It’s making me sad and all sorts of things. You could say I am experiencing sundry emotions, most of them not very pleasant. I’m not sure if this thing is done, but it is what it is right now.


Past depressions
Come back up to level paths,
But the lesson
I’ve been learning most is that
Level paths fall down again,
Even to the present,
Likely to the future too.

The beginning
Of another end has come;
I’m not wanting
Its days, hollow hopes unwelcome.

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:

Let Us Hope found on 12_20

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.

A Sevenling

It’s one of those days. So I wrote a sevenling. These are fun.


Despite my depressed brain being
So intimidating — and the rain which
Is not helping, the gray elicits pain —

There’s still so much to do: Soon
A haircut, and do I want to leave my room
So messy? And there’s more to write

Dying is not on the schedule.