We are all well.
Imagine our surprise,
when our poor mother
was sent off
with bad news,
and never came back
for the truth…
(“rewritten” using bits and pieces of prose from the novel itself)
Poetry – Pride and Prejudice Rewrite
micropoetry
Poetry – Unicorn Toilet Dreams
Outwit by sleep,
somewhere between dreaming
and awake –
I pick out a unicorn
drinking from a toilet
among the ribbons
of candid snapshots
winding around my head
like cinema still frames.
Poetry – Affectionate Anxiety
Oh, affectionate anxiety
the future of those
dependent on self-denial
still trembles
under the quiet twilight
of a fading summer
Poetry – Money for Liberty
(I wrote this new little poem the other day and have had a hard time deciding if it should just be shortened to contain the first stanza only, or if it is better with both. I figured I would share it with you guys and see if anyone had an opinion. Should I keep it as is with the two stanzas, or should I cut out the last four lines and have a much shorter, but perhaps punchier poem?)
He offered up money
for his liberty,
but could never quite reach
the asking price.
Though he bid
higher and higher,
the inflation would only
keep rising.
Poetry – Halloween Tree
Halloween tree
orange glitter
on twisted branches
holds up the bodies
swaying
in the breeze.
(Yesterday I bought my first Halloween tree to decorate with ornaments at Target. I’ve wanted one for years and finally got one. It is a spooky black tree with orange glitter on it and prompted me to write this little poem. If I am able to find enough ornaments and such to decorate it with, I will try to share a pic later!)
Poetry: Raising the Devil
Her last three footsteps
raised the devil.
At the sight of her,
hell surrendered –
besieged by the spirits
of plunder and
confiscation.
(Another blackout poem inspired by A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens)
Poetry (Haiku) – Grow Up
Grow up, they all say
But when I try to plant roots
they poison the soil
(Written for a #haikudaily tag on Twitter, theme was “grow”)
Poetry – Scrambled Savior
I meant to share this poem around Easter, but forgot. Guess I had too much going on. This poem just sort of wrote itself, with the images of both the commercial and sacred aspects of the holiday mixing together in my mind. It is not meant to be offensive to religion, but instead, to compare and contrast the cheerful, innocent brightness of welcoming spring with the actual gruesome reality of a crucifixion and resurrection:
Scrambled Savior
Easter
pastel eggs
poor Jewish carpenter
whipped, beaten, and scrambled
last supper
omelet
Afraid of Living
I am not afraid to die –
but I am not yet
unafraid of living.
I’m not sure I have ever written truer words than the 3-line poem above. This little gem came to me while taking a bath last night, so I repeated it to myself like a mantra until I got out of the tub and could write it down.
It is true that I am not afraid of death. I am a bit afraid of the actual feeling of dying, mostly because of the instinctual anxiety I fear it would bring. However, I am not afraid of being dead. In fact, I rather look forward to it. If there is something after death, it will be awesome to explore and find out what else is out there. If there is nothing after death, it will just be like the times I have passed out or been put out for surgery…simply a loss of consciousness which often sounds like a relief in itself. No more worrying. No more pain. No more anxiety or depression.
However, living is scary. Knowing I may have years and years of dealing with anxiety and depression ahead of me. Knowing that I will likely suffer from chronic pain and chronic illness until I die. Knowing that my degenerative conditions will likely worsen with time. Fearing that my husband may get sick or die and I will be alone. Fearing financial ruin. Fearing homelessness. Fearing potentially abusive situations. Fearing the entire planet going to shit (a justifiable fear from my point of view). Fearing that I may end up committing suicide if life becomes unbearable (not the ending I would desire for my life).
