I know what it is to be hungry.
I know what it is to tell myself I am content. Continue reading
Repost: Ghazal
This is a re-post of a ghazal that I wrote a couple of years ago. I am sharing with DVerse for this month’s poetry form.
Today is Good Friday
The prompt today is one that I thought I would not write to: “write a poem in which a profession or vocation is described differently than it typically is considered to be.” Since it’s Good Friday, I wanted to write about Jesus. I think that the following poem meets both sets of requirements:
Savior of the World
Is not very glamorous
Nailed to the cross --
A king has no royal throne,
His crown is not gold but thorns
Puzzle
So I wrote to the prompt after all: “…recount a childhood memory. Try to incorporate a sense of how that experience indicated to you, even then, something about the person you’d grow up to be.” Short and not-sweet. One of my first memories.
Preschool:
A wooden puzzle
With large pieces,
Basic shapes,
Me sitting, trying
To put it together
April Showers
April rainfall
Is said to bring flowers in May,
April rainfall
Soon making nascent stems stand tall,
Soon making fresh blooms have a way,
If only cooler temps could stay,
April rainfall.
I decided not to try to write for today’s official prompt. It seemed too hard and possibly triggering, but maybe I will try later. There’s still some time left in the day. I’m planning on going to the special Holy Thursday Mass at 7 p.m. but there are still a few hours until then.
Hide-and-seek
My last post for the day: sharing my last photo for March 2026.
It is unfortunately quite dark, but you can see my cat Oscar inside of a large paper bag.
Grandma’s Dementia, in 3 Tanka
My second post of the day, these are tanka in response to today’s NaPoWriMo prompt.
Does she remember
That I am her granddaughter?
Does she remember
Baking cookies in winter
Amid the Christmas snowfall?
She sometimes asks us
How her parents are doing,
Where's her late husband.
No one knows how to answer,
Lest she grieve over again
We say they are fine,
We say we are doing well,
She wants to go home
I might bake her some cookies
Amid this April rainfall.
Grandma’s Dementia
For this week’s Writer’s Workshop, John has prompted us with writing a post based on the word “forget.” This was timely, as my grandma keeps getting even worse.
I wonder if she has forgotten me.
She thinks that her toothpaste is lipstick,
And it seems like no new things stick --
I haven't seen her since November,
But I've heard stories -- where do memories
Go when they have left, the rest of us bereft?
Love-Letter Poetry
I am writing poetry like love letters
Filling lines and lines, pages upon pages
And what do I want out of all this?
I want to show you my heart and have it
Respected, to show you my face and be
Beheld, my words be read and heard.
This painting is called “Young Girl Writing a Love Letter,” and it is by Pietro Antonio Rotari. I have a print of it displayed in my room. This poem is a cherita, inspired by the early-bird prompt on the NaPoWriMo site. I am planning on posting a poem every day in April, as usual for that month, except for the days at the end of the month, when I will be in France.
Memory of a Self-Portrait
For Linda’s weekly SoCS prompt, our word this week is “portrait.” I had no idea what I was going to write about until a few minutes ago.
The prompt made me think of a group therapy / art therapy assignment I did early in my eating disorder recovery. We were to use markers — or maybe other things too, but I used markers — to make a self-portrait. I didn’t want to do the assignment. I was so mad at my dietitian at the time and also hot because I was wearing a jacket. So I drew a black thundercloud with yellow lightning in the middle of the page, and I wrote words about how I was feeling all around it.
I remember that at least one person drew an actual good, artistic self-portrait that looked like him, so I thought I did it wrong. I did not dare to share mine. Looking back now, though, I think that I did the assignment perfectly. 🙂
Challenges
For this week’s Writer’s Workshop, John challenges us to choose at least one of six prompts. I am writing inspired by the word “challenge,” and I’m going to try to make this post 12 sentences.
I have written quite a bit on my blog about my mental/emotional challenges with depression, anxiety, and anorexia, but what you probably don’t know is that I have some physical challenges as well, since I have a mild case of cerebral palsy. It happened due to oxygen deprivation at birth; in fact, I almost died. But here I am!
Many people with cerebral palsy are in wheelchairs, but I can walk well; I just walk kind of funny, but I can walk on my own. I get tired easily and often become tense, especially at night, when I am tired.
When I was growing up, I had my own special “adaptive P.E.” class, but I also took part in regular P.E. I would get very angry when kids made fun of the kids in special education, because I was in special education, too; it’s just that my disability was physical, not mental. I also got angry in 7th grade when the P.E. teacher said I didn’t have to run the mile; I only had to run a half-mile, but I HATED being underestimated so ran a whole mile anyway, in about 10 minutes. Hearing that story recently, one of my friends remarked, “That’s Jenna’s way of saying ‘F*** you.'”
Growing up, I also did karate and technically got a black belt, but I can’t actually kick anybody’s butt, especially not now that I am 12 years out of practice! I was active, for a kid with a disability. But I think my real strength is my brain.
Another Poem About My Heart Being an Egg
This cherita was written in response to Linda’s SoCS prompt: “easy/hard.” Thanks for the prompt, and I haven’t written a cherita in a while, either.
I don't want to be hard-hearted
Even though my heart feels like
An over-easy yolk quite often --
With all the madness in the world,
Evil with its flag unfurled I wonder
What sort of spell we're living under.
revivedwriter 