3 Micropoems – “Seized, Transitions”

TransitionsPhoto – “Transitions” by Me

 

Seized, Transitions // by Jennifer Patino

 

To the chair, bound
To the floor, fallen

Electric eels swim
Below my surface

Short circuiting
My glitching system

 

*

 

I tripped

     Razor wire

Trembling legs

A step is an accomplishment

     (or a trap)

Clawing the wall, the skin,
the lit fuse,

                h  a  y  w  i  r  e

The brain interprets
& it’s all wrong

It implodes

Sparks dance
inside my head

I’m half dead

 

*

 

This coming winter
I will feign a freeze
I will spend time within
My heart storage space

By an imagined first frost
I will have thawed out
the old wounds
For a renewed healing

 

Thanks to @TastyPoem and @TLPoetry for prompts.

 

#MicropoetryMonday – October 30 – November 5, 2017

Greetings, everyone. I’m keeping it short today because I’m trying to take it easy. I was having a really good week and then got knocked down by another nerve pain flare up. It’s much better today than yesterday, so I am thankful. I’m happy our weather is turning colder here in Vegas as well.

I must say I am really sickened by the state of our world today. I’m tired of waking up to news of one horrible and senseless tragedy after another. I know I’m not alone, but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch. I’m only one small person with no power to do much of anything other than pray and vote accordingly. It makes me sad when I see people attacking others for not being able to do anything other than pray. I’m disabled. I do what I can. Every single human being is doing all they can. Lay off each other for a minute. Stop seeing everyone as an enemy because gah, this is beyond horrible. It’s getting harder and harder to focus on the good.

Alright, I’m exhausted after typing that little bit out. Love each other a little extra this week. Try to understand that everyone sees and experiences this world differently than you do before you attack another because they might have a different view. If a person can’t be reasoned with or spoken to nicely because they’re too riled up or filled with hate, then be the bigger person and step away. End the conversation. Even online. That’s not cowardly, that’s smart in my opinion. No sense in getting yourself just as angry or fired up as they are. None of the constant arguing is helping. It’s really not. Trolls can’t be reasoned with so why bother?

Ok, beautiful people. Please send me prayers, good vibes, and good thoughts for this Wednesday as I undergo two loooonngggg MRI tests. I’m not looking forward to them at all. I have been writing, in case you were wondering. 😉 I’ve been working on the slew of short stories I have started. Adding little bits here and there. My poem that I have until the 17th to finish is coming along. It’s just something I want to get right so it’s taking me longer. Enjoy this week’s bit of micropoems. Be sure and check out my Twitter for more. And now I’m really exhausted so I’m really going to go now…

 

mutedlamps

 

Will we make it
to morning?

Muted lamps
signal a passing

An answer
no one wants to hear

A charcoal sky,
blue flame & ash

#SenseWrds 331

*

I stayed
Tried to outrun the night
Knew the house was crumbling
Could smell the ground
–the decay
Tear your eyes
Lead away

#lionsighs

*

Disturbance
in the stillness

Night frogs
silence their snoring
to warn of night terrors

Lurking guardians,
surprise symphony

#DimpleVerse

*

Floundering in the spoondrift

This maelstrom,
an aftermath

We’re heart-tossed vessels
shaky on new sea legs
thrown ashore

#NovemberFalls

*

Saints & Sinners,
a little dive bar
clothed in leather
Pushing curfew,
waiting outside
to remind you
of relapse
Save yourself

#NovemberFalls

*

My past is ash
My notes thrown to fire
It wasn’t enough
Those words are still in me
Smoking apologies
for all this space I take up

#inapoem

*

I take shelter
in your smile

You’re losing balance,
I fall too

I can’t keep up
with losing sense

of myself
and losing you

#SableSwanV

 

 

#OctPoWriMo – Day 30 – “Forbidden”

silence

 

Forbidden // by Jennifer Patino

 

Speaking was forbidden
Fighting back, banned

“You’re a girl,
you’re not allowed to do that”

Those discussions
at ten years old,
they had depth

One loose thread
led to the next

and the next time
I wasn’t able to scream
I remembered
how quickly
I could pretend
it was all a dream

This wasn’t helpful
at all as an adult

Tense chested,
unsure,

“And what do you think?”

The whole room blurred,
and these strangers took on
familiar faces

I’m sorry, I was brought up
to believe there were no
safe spaces

Ridiculed for my tone,
my deep voice,
my inflection

My way with words,
my whispered pleas,
my long winded introspection

I mute myself now
when I feel reactions
of those who feel
I’m a burden, a distraction

I’m a talking doll
shaking at loud noises
with a never ending stream
of incessant inner voices

Hush now, you’ve shared too much
And it’s never going to be enough

 

 

 

#OctPoWriMo – Day 26 – “Giiwitaabatoo”

PiotrSiedleckiArtwork by Piotr Siedlecki

 

Giiwitaabatoo // by Jennifer Patino

 

My mind is a combination
of intersecting circles
that form together,
a cycle
running on
an unreliable clock

My mind can reach
all time, and no time,
and all at once
if I let it       If I let
it run too far away,
away from me

My mind builds barriers
to keep hoops from
interlocking       Everything
comes full circle       What
goes around comes around,
my mind knows this

My mind can break chains
on its own and sometimes
converge with another
fleeting, floating stray
and I just go with its flow
and breathe circular

I learn from each
rotation       I grow
and change like seasons

 

  • Giiwitaabatoo –
    s/he runs around in a circle
    in Ojibwe

 

#MicropoetryMonday – October 16 – 22, 2017

HalloweenKingMy Favorite Halloween Decoration, so whimsical!

 

Hey everyone! Halloween is soon! We had a little family game night Halloween celebration family dinner Saturday night and it was a good time. I had a rough week and at the moment I’m trying to determine if I popped a cyst, if I have a kidney stone, or if my kidney is just doing it’s thing and hurting with nothing semi serious going on. Once again, if it’s not one thing, it’s another with me and my health. I can’t seem to win in that department lately. Still, I press on.

I’m reading “And Your Daughters Shall Prophesy” by Adrian Shirk today and I’m loving it. There was a story about Flannery O’Connor in it and I realized I’ve only read one of her short stories. I plan to see what the library has to offer of hers. I got my husband’s birthday gifts yesterday and did some shopping for myself (online shopping is amazing!). The Walking Dead Season 8 premiered last night so he and I devoted most of the weekend to watching old episodes, specials, and talking about zombies and the character development of the show in general. He thanked me for getting him into it and I realized that I have been with this show since the day it premiered. It’s wild to me to think about the early days and where the show is now.

I was hoping to finish my submission to a lit mag last week. That didn’t happen but I did work on it. The deadline is mid-November so I do have some time. It unfortunately is taking a lot out of me just to write a poem for #OctPoWriMo every day but I’m not ‘killing myself’ to do it so it’s still ok. 🙂 I have a few letters to send out this week too. Family birthdays coming up. I’ll take my time and do what I can. It’s all I can do.

I hope you all have a great week. How are you spending your Halloween season? Are you watching horror movies 24/7 like I am? 🙂 Enjoy this week’s selected micropoems and as always, please follow me on Twitter if you’d like to read more!

 

*

 

Poison ivy
was your final incarnation
Your poison
bred into bloodlines
A drop of a bad deed,
bad seeds were we
Your wounds itch deep

*

Clutching pearls
like tearful moons,
knock-off emotions,
or faux feelings
for I’ve been robbed
of the freedom
to flow freely

#OctoberFalls

*

Sleepwalking

The icy hearth
beneath my feet

and my outstretched arms
forever reaching
for the illusion of past fires

#OctoberFalls

*

Reflections in madhouse mirrors
Dreams of sickly spiders
I can see through the symbolism
It’s me wrapped in this clenching web

#MadVerse

*

Even the cold weather
has betrayed me

Love a thing too much,
it becomes another icy sting

I’ll freeze too, then
There’s nothing left

*

She blushed
telling us
midnight tales

Gatherings under old oaks
where demons spoke
from the ground

Night filled
with frightful sounds

#inpoems

*

I can’t share
all the truths of me

Not while
certain hearts still beat

But I have this feeling
that even their ghosts
will haunt me
soon

 

 

#MicropoetryMonday – October 9 – 15, 2017

 

I forgot it was Monday! 😀 Here’s a few micropoems for ya:

 

resurrectionmovieFrom “Resurrection” (1980)

 

Going under
to where people are prisms
and colorful fog covers me

And weeping is an anomaly
I always come back to
for sleep holds no pain

*

The mind,
a solitary palace
of my own clawings

Many have tread here,
left their stain
of frostbite footprints

and bitter ice

#DimpleVerse

*

I follow the cool creek,
sun beams dancing
along beside me

How summer
used to be, a bearable
stroll & morning dew

with you

#SenseWrds 322

*

The rain makes
watercolors of the view
The purples always
remind me of you
However, your favorites
were fleeting
If I only knew

#SableSwanV

*

I’m still a little deer
aquiver
finding my way
into the yard

I know it’s been years
but I’m still here
terrified
of everything

#OctoberFalls

*

Sacred solitude,
muscles dance
to an erratic
heartbeat,
to a
choppy river,
to the point
of numbness,
and then
the awakening comes

#SatLines

*

Empty hallways
hear her
singing in a new style,
a way to calm the fear storm

Shadows alight
revealing the
dark truth
of the house

#inpoems

 

Be sure and follow me on Twitter for more! Have a great week, everyone! ❤

 

 

#OctPoWriMo – Day 6 – “51 50”

hospital

51 50 // by Jennifer Patino

Day 1:

There are four strangers in my living room. Their clothing is dark but they look like angels. I call one of them by their first and last name. They strap me to a carriage and I am floating. I can’t count the overhead lights because it’s off rhythm with the Kesha song in my head. I suddenly fear bombs. I suddenly feel this whole thing is wrong. I open my eyes later and see a smiling lawyer on a billboard. I know now I’m not at home anymore. I’m sure I’ve died.

These sirens for me
I’ve been lured somehow, floating
Confusing ocean

Day 2:

I’m pacing. Around the white room. Away from the white coats. I pace around a table. I sit at a table. I pace again. There are white papers on the table and I’m terrified to sign them. I black out and the room is full of water. It is empty except for a frazzled doctor, out of breath, wide eyed, staring at me. I don’t recognize myself in the mirrors lining the left wall. I knew before I fell asleep there were others here. I don’t know what’s real or what’s not

Too many doorways
They say all are closed to me
But I defy them

Day 3:

I don’t remember visitors. I’m supposed to remember them. I don’t remember what day it is. I wring my hands and they’re scaly. My dead self is flaking off. I am raw. I am given industrial strength soap that tears more of me off. They say I took off. They ask me strange questions. I think I’m there for something else.

“I think you’re possessed”
Staff members are scaring me
I will not trust them

Day 4:

The sun is too bright. I pace around the garden wrapped in a blanket. I go in when it is too hot, pace around the rec room, and go back out when the AC makes it freezing. Alarms go off because someone tries to escape. I think it is Sunday. Football on the tube tells me it’s true. I see my shining star that night. I pace after hours when he’s out of sight and there’s an Elton John concert on the TV that me and another insomniac are given special permission to watch. We sing quietly. We hold hands. We are sent to bed.

I’m crying for home
“So goodbye yellow brick road”
Can I go back soon?

Day 5:

The judges are the jury. They say I can’t leave early. They don’t know what’s wrong with me. I start inventing things wrong with me based on prescription drug commercials that trigger us all on the TV. I can’t feel my face from whatever they have me on. Another patient slaps me after coming in for a hug. It is a surprise attack. She’s been here one day less than me and she’s learned nothing. I haven’t spake unless spoken to in three days.

I read “Ariel”
I wonder if it’s cliché
or just worrying

Day 6:

I recognize my visitor. I’ve been waiting all day. I feign smiles through arts and crafts. I write a letter home lying about how this experience has made me feel so much better. I think this is what they want. I know they’re watching us. What I really want to write is: “There is so much that needs to be done with how mental health is handled here in America and I’m too afraid to speak up. I will be silent about this because they’ve already put so many stigmas on me that I’m buried in them. I will forever be afraid of this happening again until the day that I die and it will change me.”

Every single day
“Just be yourself” they tell me
Then I’m locked away

Day 7:

They tell me I’m going home and I’m happy. I’m nervous about screwing it up though. I’m exceptionally good. I chat with nurses like a “normal person” while silently cursing them through my teeth. I still don’t sleep fitfully. I read my notebook for the week. They gave me a soft sponge wrapped around a piece of lead to write with to keep me calm. I’m shocked. Someone wrote in my book but I won’t recognize myself in those words until later. And even then whoever I was is now long gone.

Making it alive
The goal once I realized
I had nowhere to hide

Day 8:

I finally step into the sunshine with my head down. I continue this practice for all of my days.

It’s just
safer
this way