Words, like crickets
leap from my mind
chirping pests whose
trajectory eludes
dulled reflexes,
scuttling about
periphery of logic

Harmless, really,
in the singular –
cacophony of multitudes
threatening to multiply
take with them
semblance of sanity

Intuit a rhythm
I counsel self
to define the notes

in workable phrases
capture essence
and reason message

but the invaders
adverse to linearity
disappear beneath
the floorboards
of my conscious mind.

(Found this poem, languishing in my blog archives.
Edited, and with an updated title, thought it might
be worth a second look. Art my own.)


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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

25 thoughts on “Pestilence”

  1. Interesting! …we have had a crazy influx of crickets this summer. They are harmless and sadly we’ve killed dozens in our house. I actually get used to their noise and they don’t bother me. But I can certainly relate to your words above! (I enjoy listening to them through my open window on a lovely warm evening)

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  2. Oooo, yes. Words can knick away at sanity sometimes. But frequently the irritation later turns into a constructive link in expressing difficult thoughts/emotions/needs. Hurrah for journals capturing some of these before they irretrievably “disappear beneath the floorboards of conscious mind”. (Wondering now where “floorboards” is going to present itself as just-the-word-needed for me!)

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