No words today

Sometimes the words don’t come.

Thoughts go in and out of my head,

But none stay long enough

to warrant writing them down.

That is different than the times

that I have the words

and don't take the time to write them down. 

Shame on me for that.

Time to let this tired old body rest

Yes, I have been preoccupied with thoughts about death lately. And no I am not depressed. Having elderly parents changes your perspective as they age and can no longer fight off illness and injury the way they used to.

When there's nothing more to be done,
when there's nothing left to say.
Feeling overwhelmed by
guilt,
frustration,
and helplessness.
Wishing the last part of the journey
could be quicker,
while wishing the
journey didn't have to end
now.

When there's nothing more to be done,
nothing left to say,
except goodbye,
we will miss you,
and thank you.
You have earned your rest.


It's time to let your body rest.

Close my eyes and sleep forever

Every time I close my eyes

terror grips my heart

Will my memories

leave me forever

while I am sleeping?

Names and words, time and places,

come and go,

and I can't control my thoughts or my words.

The one thing that stays in my head

haunts me.

It's a question.

And I know the answer

and knowing the answer makes me so tired.

Because I don't want to get there

even though I know I am close.

What is the point of living

when the voices all sound the same

and you don't recognize the face

of the person who is holding your hand?

Super Blue Blood Moon

Lame attempt at writing a poem about the upcoming super blue blood moon. Hopefully I will write something profound after it occurs.

Super blue blood moon

Or something like that.

Maybe the recent super moons

are related

to the behavior

some of us think

Has been a bit unusual

Unruly,

Unique.

Super moon,

lunar eclipse,

and blue moon,

All at the same time.

A good reason

to get up earlier than usual

to step outside

and focus on the sky

instead of yourself.

Writing Class Reflection

Why do I write?
I write because I can.
I write because of how it makes me feel
I write because letting thoughts out of my head helps me, its therapeutic.
I write because maybe someone will read something I’ve written and it will strike a chord in their heart.
I write because writing is easier for me to express emotions than speaking.
I write because I want to communicate.

Why am I here in a writing class?
I am here because I want guidance,
I am hoping to get some ideas.
I am hoping to get some inspiration,
And mainly, I am hoping to get some validation.

I am here for me.
And it feels good to say that.

Left Behind

They left me here

this morning.

Just said goodbye

and walked out the door.

What did they expect me to think?

How did they expect me to feel?

What am I supposed to do now?

They left me here

with no way to call

anyone

and no way for my anyone

to call me.

In a room

without a spouse

or child

or friend.

They left me here

alone,

not even a phone.

How could they do that

to me?

Time to write a happy poem

I really wanted to write a happy, light poem tonight. Maybe I did.

Writing a light poem
can be harder
than writing
an emotional tirade.
Why is it that
Happiness and humor
are harder to communicate
than sadness and bitter thoughts?
I suppose there could be a joke
in there
somewhere.
But looking for it
might take more effort
than a lightweight poem
warrants.
Don't be heavy,
think light
poetry light
happy light.
Leave the darkness out
of the creative process
today.
Deep breath.
Feels good.
Is that a smile?
Mission accomplished.

Lullaby

Write a lullaby, she said.

Maybe if you write

a lullaby

The soothing words and melody

Will help you

relax

and feel at peace.

Picture a rocking chair

Gently creaking

a comforting rhythm.

Warm hands and arms,

holding you close enough

to feel

the beating of someone else’s heart.

Rocking.

Back and forth,

Back and forth.

Until sleep comes.

Women’s Movement Redux, 2018

It’s time.
Day one of year two.
Hoping for a resurrection
Hoping for a new beginning
Hoping to build on momentum
And work on a future filled with new voices.
Marching, speaking, listening,
Writing, reading, listening.
Acting up,
Acting proud.
Standing up.
Standing proud.
Speaking up,
And being heard.
Working on building a future
Free of the hatred
That provoked a strong and much needed response.
Hate infused rhetoric and actions
are causing a revolution.
A revolution of words, actions, and hope.
Pink hats,
Pussy jokes,
Caustic signs.
can’t change things.
Speaking, Listening, Stepping up, and Voting
Are what matter.
But, oh the joy of seeing
all those pink pussy hats,
and colorful crowds,
A sea of change is on the horizon.
Time to bring it home.

Time Always Wins

Time.
There's no more tick tock,
no more marching to the beat,
no more racing the clock.
Time.
At some point
you can't outrun it,
you can't beat it.
Time.
keeps on moving along
at the same rate
every second, every minute, every hour
of every day.
Time.
The one thing in life
that remains constant,
that we can't change.

There's no reset button.
The earth keeps spinning on its axis
as it rotates around the sun.
The only way to beat time
is to travel across time zones,
but even that is finite,
and in the end,
Time wins.

Stayed up too late, again

A poem written

In honor of

Staying up too late

Again.

Staying up to finish

A daily writing task,

Meet a writing goal.

Start late, end late.

Again.

Why?

Writing can be habit forming

Sometimes excruciating

Sometimes exhausting

Sometimes demanding

Sometimes cathartic or therapeutic

And sometimes it can feel pointless.

Somehow,

It is worth it.

Wear out my Shoes

I'm not sure if this is a song chorus or the beginning of a poem.

Got a need to wear out my walking shoes
Feel the ground beneath my heels
Want my feet to go where they've never been
Wear these shoes out and begin again.

Intrepid

Intrepid.

A feeling I need to develop

for dealing with elderly parents,

siblings,

conflicting emotions,

and an overall feeling of helplessness.

Goal Achieved

Thinking about taking the night off from writing

and then I remind myself

that I set a goal

to write one poem or song

every day

for a year.

And I wonder,

why do I do things like that?

And why does I feel like

I will be cheating

if I skip a day?

Am I writing because I like it

or because I have to?

Do I want to cross that line,

where my passion

becomes work

and the fun gets sucked out of it?

Why am I stressing over

a personal goal

that doesn't affect anyone except me

and no one will know if I don't meet it?

Why?

Because I will know

and how hard is it really

to sit and write a few thoughts

in verse

instead of watching tv or reading

or doing all of those things

I seem to find

when I don't want to do

what I'm supposed to do?

Procrastination and avoidance

are two of my strongest qualities.

And, yet,

I am meeting my goal

despite my best efforts

to derail myself.

Goal reached.

Procrastination and avoidance lose

today.

My words give me away

Posting this one totally unedited. 

The more things change
the more they remain the same.
Or maybe I just live in cycles
that repeat themselves.
Looking at something I wrote
over five years ago,
that looks like it could have been written
yesterday
or today
or tomorrow.
To every thing there is a season,
For every right there is a wrong.
And for every word I write
there is another word left unsaid,
that I will write on another day.
And on and on it goes.
Over the years.
I seem to change
but my writing tells me
a story of repeating themes
cycles of grief, anger, love, happiness,
and hope.

Do you like to be alone

That moment
when you realize
that you really like being alone,
a lot,
but not all the time
and not forever.

Winter Thoughts

Don't let the weather bring you to your knees.

Snow and ice,
windy and cold,
a day for sweaters,
hot coffee, tea or cocoa.
A day to avoid driving,
maybe walk outside,
cuddle up inside
with a book,
a dog or cat,
maybe even a human.
Time to enjoy
winter.

Quicksand

I'm still working on this one, but decided to post it anyway. And, no, I am not currently suffering from anxiety or depression. I started with the word worry and it triggered thoughts about interactions with people I have been close to.


The Quicksand of Worry

Why does it feel so comfortable

to wallow in worry?

It slowly sucks you in

And coddles you.

Warm

Secure

Familiar.

Until you realize

it’s quicksand.

And you have to fight

to survive.

Sinking

Thrashing

Scared.

Consumed by worry.

Desperate

to get out

before it kills you.

Waiting for the Storm

Waiting for the storm.

The temperature drop

Wind,

Snow,

Ice,

And maybe rain.

Waiting to see if the

forecasters got it right,

Or if we miss the bad stuff

and it hits somewhere else,

Which would be great for us

and bad for them.

Or maybe it will be worse

than predicted,

Which would be a mess

and a total pain

in every way.

Just waiting for the storm.

The temperature is projected to drop

30 degrees

in less than twenty-four hours.

Waiting to see what path the winds

and moisture will go

Wondering about the roads,

School,

Work,

whether or not my car

will hold up

if I have to drive anywhere.

Wondering if ignoring the warnings

is wiser

than worrying

Waiting for the storm,

Waiting.

Waiting.

It’s not like we can change the weather.

Break Time

Break Time

Taking a night off?

Everyone needs a break

now and then.

Or at least that’s the excuse

being given

for not wanting to play

the usual game.

Sometimes it’s not fun

to play the part

just because that’s what

you’re expected to do.

Sometimes a night off

can help put things

in perspective,

Bring reason

into focus.

Clarify whether the night off

is a temporary reprise.

Or literally a break.

Wander, Reflect, Write

Wander, reflect, write.

A new mantra.

In theory,

a wandering mind provokes thoughts.

Reflecting on the thoughts

may spark an idea,

which can be written down,

thus achieving

creativity.

Seems so simple.

Except when life gets in the way.
Not enough time for a wandering mind.

Or maybe time to wander but not to reflect.

And where is the time and means

to write down that idea

Before it is forgotten?

Gainsay

Gainsay.

There is no denying

that this word

is confusing.

The gain doesn’t mean gain,

It’s derived from against.

There is no gainsaying

that this word

is difficult to use

in normal

everyday

conversation.

Vapid

Vapid is the word of the day.

Flat, dull.

Sounds like my social life.

Or it could mean there’s no flavor,

no zest,

no spirit.

Thank you Merriam-Webster online dictionary

for emailing me

such a depressing word.

Just when I thought

I was at peace with myself,

I find a word

That lets me know

That maybe I need to work

on my self esteem

and confidence

a tad more.

So I don’t feel

(wait for it)

vapid.

Wondering

This wasn't intentionally written as a reflection on the state of our country. 
I wrote it based on feelings from dealing with serious family health issues. 
But, as often happens when I'm writing, the words take on a meaning of their own.

Taking it all in stride

Or numb?

Wondering,

How can you tell?

Also wondering,

Is this the new normal?