jonadine

I cried today after the 20th time I had to put hand sanitizer on my paper cut. 

I just ended up going into the bathroom to sob.

I did not cry when I admitted the pregnant woman with severe COVID pneumonia, and thought it was good we were treating with steroids, so the lungs would be mature if we had to cut the baby out

I did not cry when we used the last heated high flow machine, and started using the duct tape and tubing

I did not cry when I saw that the ICU was full of ventilated patients under 50, and statistics tell me a third of them will die

I did not cry when I had to transfer the patient out of the ICU to die, I was glad I had room to move the intubated 22 year old out of the ER

I did not cry when the 65 year old grandmother of 6 told me the reason she did not get the vaccine was because she was scared of side effects.  She could barely talk because she was so short of breath

I did not cry when I told the terrified teenager that she could skype her mother from the hospital, but no, she could not have visitors

I did not cry when we used the last ventilator

I did not cry when they told me the panel making rationing decisions was formed

I did not cry when the childrens hospital began to fill.  The last wave we had two pediatric patients, Total.  This wave we admitted 6 yesterday.

I cried because the paper cut hurt, every single time I went into a room and every single time I came out.   

I have fallen in love with my own broken heart,

I hoard my hurts, all pot shards and broken glass,

Closer than my own skin.

I know it's not you that makes me feel disposable, discarded, unwanted, unloved,

Not pretty enough, not thin enough, not smart enough, NEVER ENOUGH....

It is rather the sharpened claws of my own self image.

They puncture me, and leave holes that bleed perspective,

Respawning habits of thought that that fit like

Your favorite old jeans.

I hate them, with a strengthening hate.

They stick to me in hot taffy strings I try to pluck off with unbuttered hands, more tangled with each fumbling effort.

Faceless, faithless lovers, they are all that I reject

They are in my head, in my bed, filling the air with the warm musky scent of my own bad decisions.

I can almost see them sometimes, those fears and insecurities, bursting from me like I am Pandora's box, swarming me like angry wasps.

Then I'm a dwelling, a hive of utter bullshit,

I can hear the buzzing of all that useless baggage,

Seething with every never and always I've ever thought.

I'm tired of swimming in wet concrete,

Trying to breathe underwater,

Frustrated, exhausted.

I try to walk on fractured limbs

Splintered bones grind through my flesh, but

I will get there. Just you watch.

I will be free, someday. The holes left

Spackled shut, some paved over,

Some filled in with loam and growing new life.

Right now they torment me, but I see the future,

And I will win this battle, have already won,

It just remains to stamp them out.

I put my insecurities in the killing jar, pluck off their wings

Watch them squirm their innards out

and I'll do it every day til they are gone.

I have fallen in love with my own broken heart,

I hoard my hurts, all pot shards and broken glass,

Closer than my own skin

They cut me, and leave holes that bleed perspective,

Wearing grooves of bad habits that that fit like

Your favorite old jeans.

I hate them, with a strengthening hate.

They stick to me in hot taffy strings I try to pluck off with unbuttered hands, and they burn like napalm.

Faceless, faithless lovers, they are all that I reject

They are in my head, in my bed, warm musky scent of my own bad decisions.

I'm tired of swimming in wet concrete,

Trying to breathe underwater,

Frustrated, exhausted.

I try to walk on fractured limbs

Splintered bones grind through my flesh, but

I will get there. Just you watch.

I will be free, someday. The holes left

Spackled shut, some paved over,

Some filled in with loam and growing new life.

Right now they torment me, but I see the future,

And I will win this battle, have already won,

It just remains to stamp them out.

I put my insecurities in the killing jar, pluck off their wings

Watch them squirm their innards out

and I'll do it every day til they are gone.

I have fallen in love with my own broken heart,

I hoard my hurts, all pot shards and broken glass,

Closer than my own skin

I hate them, with a lengthening hate.

They stick to me in hot taffy strings I try to pluck off with unbuttered hands,

I'm tired of swimming in wet concrete,

Trying to breathe underwater,

Frustrated, exhausted.

I try to walk on fractured limbs

Splintered bones grind through my flesh, but

I will get there. Just you watch.

Faceless, faithless lovers, they are all that I reject

They are in my head, in my bed, warm musky scent of my own bad decisions.

I will be free, someday. The holes they left

Spackled shut, some paved over,

Some filled in with loam and growing new life.

I put them all in the killing jar, pluck off their wings

Watch them squirm their innards out

and I'll do it every day until they are gone.

Congratulations! We are pleased to accept for publication your manuscript , M13-2535, "Photographs." I found your poem incredibly moving, shockingly good, and professionally crafted. You have a great talent, and it shows with this piece. Thank you so much for sending it our way

Jomeansme: squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Freckled grin incandescent, snub-nosed, kewpie cute,

it overflowed you and swept us all with it, especially me.

Your joy tides left their mark on me

Like seaweed limned flotsam on the beach.

I hear my heart clapping the game of our childhood

Miss Merry Mack-ing our way to adolescence.

I knew you, pigtails to sandcastles,

and your moods were subtle and irresistible as gravity.

Glossed with normal-flavored "artistic temperament",

graceful, natural dancer that you were,

poet, snake charmer, stubborn as a steel post,

Your intensity was magical, genius, and I was your acolyte.

The day they came hangs over me like a pall, sometimes.

Its a jumble mostly, clone-pairs of emergency workers,

Wielding clipboards like shields,

asking reasonable, purposeful, meaningless questions.

Absurdly, I remember that in each pair, one had a mustache,

and each not-twin asked me the same things

about allergies, medical problems

and were there any drugs in the house.

There is a moment, razored from that day, a photo that lives in my head:

When you were tongue twisting the shape of insanity

Jaws unhinged like a snake, giving birth

to a joke so huge, I splattered against it like slung mud.

Memory after that is narrow and dark.

They rolled you out naked as a shell-less snail

And gave me small jobs to do

Packing up clothes, and shoes and toothbrushes,

Then, your sanity hung by a thread, scattered and distracted,

Like the prisms you kept in your window.

You looked right at me, and you said you had to do this alone

And, primary colors flashing, you were gone

Freckled grin incandescent, snub-nosed, kewpie cute,

it overflowed you and swept us all with it, especially me.

Your joy tides left their mark on me

Like seaweed limned flotsam on the beach.

I hear my heart clapping the game of our childhood

Miss Merry Mack-ing our way to adolescence,

I knew you, pigtails to sandcastles,

and your moods were subtle and irresistible as gravity.

Glossed with normal-flavored "artistic temperament"

graceful, natural dancer that you were,

poet, snake charmer, stubborn as a steel post

Your intensity was magical, genius, and I was your acolyte

The day they came hangs over me like a pall, sometimes

Its a jumble mostly, clone pairs of emergency workers,

Wielding clipboards like shields,

asking reasonable, purposeful, meaningless questions.

Absurdly, I remember that in each pair, one had a mustache,

and each not-twin asked me the same things

about allergies, medical problems

and were there any drugs in the house.

There is a moment, razored from that day, a photo that lives in my head

When you were tongue twisting the shape of insanity

Jaws unhinged like a snake, giving birth

to a joke so huge, I splattered against it like slung mud.

Memory after that is narrow and dark,

They rolled you out naked as a shell-less snail,

And gave me small jobs to do

Packing up clothes, and shoes and toothbrushes,

And suddenly, your sanity hung by a thread

scattered and distracted like the prisms you kept in your window

And you told me you had to do this alone

And primary colors flashing, you were gone

Freckled grin incandescent, snub-nosed, kewpie cute

it overflowed you and swept us all with you, especially me

Your joy tides left their mark on me

Like the seaweed limned flotsam at the beach

I hear my heart clapping the game of our childhood

Miss Merry Mack-ing our way to adolescence

Your moods were legendary

Subtle and irresistible as gravity

Glossed over with the normal-flavored artistic temperament

graceful natural dancer that you were,

poet, snake charmer, stubborn as a steel post

Your intensity was magical, genius, and I was your acolyte

The day they came hangs over me like a pall, sometimes

Its a jumble mostly, clone pairs of emergency workers,

Wielding clipboards like shields,

asking reasonable, purposeful, meaningless questions.

Absurdly, I remember that in each pair, one had a mustache,

and each not-twin asked me the same things

about allergies, medical problems

and were there any drugs in the house.

There is a moment though, that lives in my head like a photo,

When you were tongue twisting the shape of insanity

Jaws unhinged like a snake, giving birth

to a joke so huge, I splattered against it like slung mud.

Memory after that is narrow and dark,

They rolled you out naked as a shell-less snail,

And gave me small jobs to do

Packing up clothes, and shoes and toothbrushes,

And suddenly, your sanity hung by a thread

scattered and distracted like the prisms you kept in your window

And you told me you had to do this alone

And primary colors flashing, you were gone.

Added a transitional stanza between the last and the one prior. I think it needed it, but Im not sure it makes it better.

Last one. Think Im about ready to start working on a book. Anybody know of any resources to help with publishing poetry? I have a boatload of artwork to go with it.

Ok edited and shortened, I think its pretty good.

Happy new year!

I know the ending is sort of jarring, but I kind of like it.

Not sure what fo do with this one. Any suggestions?

Done. At least until the next time I go on an editing rampage.

I think this one is done.

This poem is about depression and contemplating suicide. It was intended to be a cipher, however I am going to rewrite it at some point to be cleaner and clearer. The first five stanzas are introducing the paralyzing nature of depression, how it feels like doing anything is too hard, like swimming in concrete. the next two are the fear and guilt associated with planning your own death, knowing how your family would feel, The next five deal with the certainty that death is the only way out, that the situation is too intolerable to live with, and the concurrent fearlessness in the face of death since its a relief from the pain of living. The last stanza is the kicker, an attempt, albeit clumsy, to negate the contemplation of suicide as an option.

Just about done... I think

Mixed Metaphor

SSSSSSSSlick like a viper,

Fanged thoughts sink under skin,

Laying carnivorous eggs,

Like a spider wasp.

Leaving slimy slug trails,

The wriggling larvae,

Pupate into venomous steam.

I can hear it,

The shrill wailing teakettle shriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeek

Of pressure-cooked shouts, packed in lies,

crammed full and SLAMmed shut

like my suitcase when I left you.

Blame bubbles up from oily depths,

collecting in corners,

Like the shriveled char

In a deep fryer.

The carbonized residue crackling and shifting

Like embers after a house fire,

The walls falling in,

Love dissipating in the smoke

That coats everything in a black rime

That burns eyes, and stains lungs

And I eat that pain

like potato chips made of poison.

SSSSSSSSlick like a viper,

Fanged thoughts sink under skin,

Laying carnivorous eggs,

Like a spider wasp.

Leaving slimy slug trails,

The wriggling larvae,

Pupate into venomous steam.

I can hear it,

The shrill wailing teakettle shriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeek

Of pressure-cooked shouts, packed in lies,

crammed full and SLAMmed shut

like my suitcase when I left you.

It bubbles up from oily depths,

Blame collecting in corners,

Like the shriveled char

In a deep fryer.

The carbonized residue crackling and shifting

Like embers after a house fire,

The walls falling in,

Memories dissipating like smoke

That burns eyes, and stains lungs

with a black rime that sticks to everything

And I eat that pain

Like potato chips, and it tastes like poison.

You suck. she said, like its your fate

it pops my ears, the sucks so great.

You suck like you heard sucking's cool

Like you learned how in sucking school,

If there were a sucking test,

No question, you would be the best,

Or if it were a sucking race

You'd win the prize and be first place.

You suck all day and suck all night

'til babies weep and crops get blight,

You would suck if it were noon,

you still suck out on the moon.

You suck forever and an hour,

You suck 'til it's your superpower.

You suck, she said, like I'm a girl,

You suck so much it makes me hurl.

You suck the birds and suck the bees

and suck the leaves right off the trees

You suck the clouds across the sky

and suck the whole damn ocean dry

You suck in cars and suck in trucks

I cant believe how much you suck.

You suck in Noah and the Ark

the Empire State and Fenway Park.

You suck until your face turns blue,

and suck until your dog sucks too.

I feel, she said, that sucks so big

that it will snap you like a twig,

You'll break in two and then therefore

after that you'll suck some more,

You suck for real and that's no lie

You suck so much that you might die,

You'd suck if sucking didn’t exist

You suck so hard I made a list.

You have reached your sucking goal,

and now resemble a black hole

You've sucked so much, gained so much mass,

you'll have to blow it out your &$$.

SSSSSSSSlick like a viper,

Fanged thoughts sink under skin,

Laying carnivorous eggs,

Like a spider wasp.

Leaving slimy slug trails,

The wriggling larvae,

Pupate into venomous steam.

I can hear it,

The shrill wailing teakettle shriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeek

Of pressure cooked lies.

They bubble up from oily depths,

Collecting in corners,

Like the shriveled char

In a deep fryer.

The crackling carbonized residue

Taints the whole

And I eat that pain

Like potato chips

Till all that comes of creativity

Is poison

Weirdly, I have found that doggerel like this is much harder to write than some of my other stuff. I end up editing for flow, like, a million times.

"I think its time to talk about

some things you're doing, Ned,

what is going on with you?"

She waited. "Brains." He said.

"You never change your clothing

its always full of stains,

Why cant you do some laundry?"

Came the answer..."Brains."

"You don't wash the dishes or

do yard work anymore

Can you tell me what is

happening?" "Brains!" he swore.

"You lost your job, you never sleep

and all your friends complain

that you never call or visit them.

What gives? Please explain."

"And one more thing I'd like to say

about last night in bed,

you bit me way to hard

and now I'm....Brains." She said

Falling in love

With a broken heart

Trying to breathe

underwater

I am swimming

In wet concrete

Walking on

fractured limbs

Splintered bones

grinding through skin

Awakening sweat-slick

And frozen

Guilt shuddering

through me

Approaching

the ending of possibility

Unafraid

With an implacable mien

Quietly considering

The primal scream

Silence and sleep

Await me

I am determined

to seek peace

this is only

theoretically possible

A Petri dish of emotion, I fester and bubble, anyone crosses me, they will find trouble