adversity – Page 15 – One Woman's Quest

Hold Fast

Unity of thought fleeting,
overpowering potential –
adaptation never-ending.

Possibility articulated,
ridicule attached –
an irrelevant couple.

External/ societal motivators
destroy heart, fuel panic –
authority wrongly positioned.

Take hold of intent, mend
what lingers, forego paranoia
improvement is achievable.

Test urgency, measure reluctance,
stand firm mid-breakdown –
abandon doubt, calm thoughts

Like the sun and the moon,
life cycles; there is promise,
sanity will return, renewed.

Open To Healing

Open to healing –
delve into the subconscious
create a space for inspiration.

Ignore limited capabilities –
no offerings are meager –
enter with pure intentions.

Embrace new starts
have faith in ability
be spurred into action.

The Self holds the answers,
creative expression is the key.
No expertise required.

(I first wrote this in August of 2015, a year and a half after being diagnosed with ME/CFS. This was likely the lowest point of my disease – it is encouraging to look back and realize how strong my spirit was back then despite my condition.)

Stand Out

Obnoxious, I’ve been called
and overly exuberant, and
“no-one-will-ever-love-you”

usually by spurned lovers
or morose types too afraid
to speak for themselves,

dependent on, but loathing
my social ease – I wore it,
of course, the shame, that is

self-chastised, tried to tone
down, dim my hue, but
yellow is yellow, shines,

finds joy in darkness,
laughter in hard times,
even upside-down, radiates.

Turn away, if you must,
wear shades – I’m done
apologizing for standing out.

Living With The Enemy

Thought I’d divorced myself from
indifference, recovered from abject
betrayal, but; here I am, co-habiting
with deceit again, occupying uneven
ground, reduced to questioning
motives and reactions.

I’ve been down this road before,
dragged through the shame of
behind my back whispers – need
to confront the perpetrator,
and any co-conspirators, stop
the home-wrecker before she
strikes again, convince them all

that this is not self-perpetuated,
but a sham, and a crime, and
that my heart is breaking here,
and damn it; I deserve better, but
as I said, I am living with the enemy
residing in this single story, one-body
hell, and I’m not sure if I can take any
more self-destructive examinations –
pretty sure one of us is about to
implode, and then what?

I am Listening, Child

Child of mine,
what rage is this
that sets you against
a younger brother?

What discontent stirs
so deeply within that
you would lash out
at me, your mother?

Let us sit a moment,
and let me, with tenderness
listen, for your anger masks
pain, and I am not so far
removed from childhood
to recognize that tone.

If I have wronged you,
speak, I need to hear it;
if peers are pressuring,
or bullying, or you feel
betrayed, lay it here
in my hands, and I will
comfort you, and offer
what wisdom I have.

Your well-being is sacred
to me; let me hold you –
you’re not too old; linger
here in my embrace until
the tears come, and the storm
passes; I will hear your fears,
frustrations, and disappointments,
and together we will figure it out.

Child of mine,
I am here for you,
no matter the reason,
your pain is my pain,
talk to me; I am listening.

(Image: confessionsofanadoptiveparent.com)

Fear Like a Tarantula

Fear, like a tarantula,
descends on me, lands
on my sense of responsibility
I am unhinged, panicked

think only of casting it off
repulsed by its ugliness
its unbearable horror
its unnatural weight

and then I remember
that terror can be illusory
and tarantulas are fragile too
and I control my impulse

recognize that it is threat
that activates attack,
relax into the situation and
let the intrusion crawl away.

Relocate. Reset.

Mom said she was going to leave Dad
couldn’t take it anymore
we moved.

Relocate. Reset.

Bullying at school was out of control
I couldn’t take it anymore
we moved.

Relocate. Reset.

Truancy became a problem
then there was the rape
school said I had to go

Relocate. Reset.

Sisters moved back home
one unhinged, the other battered
Mom said it’d be better if I left

Relocate. Reset.

Shuffled boxes from one relationship
to another, changed careers
like hairstyles – bored?

Relocate. Reset.

Never did grow roots
too good at packing up
trouble comes

Relocate. Reset.

Tell you more, but we’re about
to pull out, the road is calling –
you know how it goes.

(Written in response to The Daily Post prompt: relocate)

A Call To Teach

They set up classrooms in malls,
call them “alternative”, cater to
those who have fallen through
proverbial cracks, teens unfit
for institutional learning…

I was wayward once, could not
value education while teenage
angst pushed me overboard –
home life too quixotic for
reasonable expectations of
comportment …

My heart reaches out
to those displaced, for whom
common curriculum does not gel –
I long to meet with them on concrete
benches, over cups of Tim Horton’s
lending a sympathetic ear…

School is not the defining moment
the last stop before our final destination;
it is a stepping stone, one of many paths
that lead to discovery, to definition,
troubled souls crave soothing…

maybe, if I could light a torch
for just one child, build a bridge
of hope, the girl in me would be
quieted, reassured, healed –
validation ensuring a future for all.

(Image: classroom.synonym.com)

No Words

In light of the recent tragedies in the world…

One Woman's Quest

I have no words
that will change your plight.

I cannot undo the past
nor change the course of your life.

I am powerless to rescue,
fix, or uplift you in your time of need.

Please know that I see you,
know that in my heart I weep.

Know that while I empathize
I can never fully understand your pain.

There is no judgment here,
only heartfelt compassion.

When I reach out a hand to you,
wordlessly, it is out of respect.

I believe in you.
I believe in your strength and your courage.

In my silence, know that I bear witness
to the potential that lies within and before you.

I believe in the power of your own love to overcome.
There are no words to define what is possible in life.

(Image: imgarcade.com)

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Losing Language

hardwood…
it rolls off my tongue
stops in mid-air, mind halting
Is that a real word?
I stretch for familiarity,
find none – I apologize
quizzical expressions
indicate my mistake –
such a funny word,
I fumble for explanation
humiliation crowding

How do you spell resile?
my English teacher brain
searches, comes up empty
Do you mean reconcile?
No. So I google it
discover its validity
spell it out –
can’t say I ever knew the word

thicket, I type
and then back space –
need a term to describe
prickly shrubbery, off
the beaten path, but
it eludes me, the letters
line up but fail to evoke
recognition. why

is my mind turning,
blank spaces replacing
stored knowledge, as if
corruption has overtaken
memory’s files – thoughts
sputter, drop beginnings
and endings of words –
dragging me through muddy
fog, shutting me down…

(Note: for those that don’t know me,
I am challenged by ME/CFS, a disease
that affects cognitive functioning.
Writing is a way for me to battle
the deterioration – this poem
illustrates the frustration.

Image: pixelmuttz.blogspot.com)