Words and Feels

not-quite Journaling, 61

 There is power in pink
blooms, in scars embraced,
in mind and flesh
refusing
to give up the fight
for life.

10/18/2023: If you haven’t had a mammogram, a breast exam performed by a doctor, or your breast self-examinations aren’t particularly regular, then today is the day to correct such a serious oversight. Wear pink while you’re at it, so that others might be reminded too. ( . ) /

P.S. Someone told me that “a good soul doesn’t have time to worry about [her] individual problems, when an entire people face war and worse.” At first, I wanted to kick the speaker in the teeth. Now that my mind is calmer, I’ll just say that the world and all its big problems might not mean much if we’re dead--breast cancer doesn’t wait until we’re ready for it.

 

10/31/2023: My favorite last minute Halloween costumes, from some years ago. My Piano Man was a Chick Magnet, but I can’t remember what I was… Bloody Hammered? 🤔 I’m sure it was completely obvious at the time.

 

11/3/2023: Because, every so often, we (all right, me) can use a little reminder.

 

11/7/2023: “Every day is Halloween, isn’t it? For some of us.” Well, of course, señor Burton, even for this lily. Doesn’t she look like she’s holding on to the best of October? Or, perhaps, I’m just projecting.

 

11/11/2023: In response to the one who asked, “What terrifies you?”

 

Be love: devastating and wonderful.

 

11/17/2023: I love fairy tales and all kinds of tales, where people who are being oppressed fight as hard as they can… and get out from under their tormenter’s boot. I love them even better, when they do some kicking back. What can I say? I might be a wee bit adversarial. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

- for Poets and Storytellers United--Friday Writings #103: Life Is a Fairy Tale.

 

Love Never Dies

My words taste of you,
singing your scent into my dreams
until my all is you and me

again.

Last spring, I rained
morning after morning…
and at night

summer scorched your absence
into my skin.

I await the fall,
when October thins
all barriers,
and you can feel me, still

loving you through the veil.

 

“Til Death We Do Part”, by Michelle Kennedy

 - written for anyone whose love was claimed by death too soon. On Halloween, the veil between life and death is at its thinnest. So, reach out… remind them that your love will never die.

- for Poets and Storytellers United--Friday Writings #100: El Día de Muertos.

I Am Easily Distracted by Autumn-Kissed Leaves

not-quite Journaling, 45

“Autumn leaves don’t fall; they fly.
They take their time and wander on this,
their only chance to soar.”
Delia Owens

 

10/25/2022: This morning, when I left to see someone in a white coat (and a scope fixation) about my crappy gut, New York City was all fog and rain. When I returned home, my gloriosa daisy and forget me nots were hosting a sunbathing party. I promptly declothed… and joined them—life is good when your living room is blooming (and your digestive system is not being a total bastard).

 

 when the veil is thin,
I brew poems for dead souls
alive in my heart

 

10/31/2022: One of my favorite things about All Hallows’ Eve in the USA is pumpkin chili. Growing up (in the Dominican Republic), we celebrated the Día de las ánimas (All Souls’ Day) by cleaning our loved ones’ graves and eating (drinking and dancing) the things they loved while they lived. Pumpkin chili is a perfect addition to the tradition, particularly when we get to cook it and eat it together.

 

bare branches,
food and song in the graveyard--
to honor our dead

 

I have a thing for witchy hats, skulls, and audiobooks (with creepy kids in them).

 

“Have you ever tried to fit in? If you have, you know how heartbreaking it can be. Twisting and turning into something other people would like is humiliating. I don’t recommend it. In the end even if you win their approval, you’ll be so disgusted with yourself you won’t like what you see in the mirror.” ~ The Weirdies, by Michael Buckley

 

I am easily distracted by 🍂🍁🍂 autumn-kissed leaves.

Rosemary invoked The Power of Three, so:

I like multiples
of three--
brain, tongue, hand:

mind-love my flesh,
speak to my bones,
caress my soul.

Fresh, ripe, whole...
I’ll give you me,
times three.

- for Poets and Storytellers United--Friday Writings #51: The Power of Three.