Archive for poem

In Memory Of…A Poem For My Grandma

Posted in anxiety, depression, poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on October 20, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

My grandma passed last Friday. Today is her funeral. I am going to ask to read the following poem in front of everyone because I was not present in the last 18 years of her life. She had Alzheimer’s and didn’t know any of us so I selfishly said, no, I can’t see her this way…This is my ode to her life, her memory, and my admiration for her. It’s all I’ve got. And she was a writer so I think she would appreciate this poem more than any eulogy.

In Memory Of Grandma

You were dealt a hand you didn’t deserve
but you paved a new road for you and yours
you forged ahead, not looking back
living life to the fullest, giving all you had
Finding your voice halfway through your life
You backed down from no one, no challenge, no fight
You used your mind and your words
to set yourself apart
into your family and writing, you poured your heart
You loved, you lost, you carried on
yet again dealt a bad hand
from life’s cruel deck of cards
Year after year you hung in there
it was one hell of a fight
now you can have the peace you’ve earned
and finally again be
with the love of your life

Tears

Posted in anxiety, depression, health with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 17, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

The bipolar medication dam broke today and I finally cried because my grandma died. I couldn’t seem to get it out, even though I was truly sad, I was just…dead inside. And that’s what my dad is, I don’t want to be him, so I felt so damn shitty and…hobbled. But I grabbed pen and paper (old school really works for grief) and… I wrote a poem about grandma and her life.

It felt good to cry. Like a dam breaking. I was able to function and get done the errands that had to be done.

My stepmom called to “inform’ me they were in my yard early this morning, doing something to my car. My dad is still not speaking to me, and that was before Grandma passed. I guess my fuck up with the car battery was just something so sinister and unforgiveable he cannot bring himself to speak with me directly.

Normal families, this is the sort of thing that’d bring you together. You’d commiserate, discuss good memories, you’d hug and maybe tear up.

Not my ass trash family. I mean, my sis and I are sad, and even my mom,despite dad having divorced her 20 years ago, she still had grandma as a mother in law for 28 years and loved her. I don’t know how my man child brother is coping. He wasn’t close to grandma even before the alzheimers kicked in so much as he is like dad, I doubt he has much emotion going on beyond what society demands ‘a real man’ show.

My kid is being a spaz and saying I can’t make her (giggle giggle) go to a funeral (snort snort) cos she can’t sit still (he he he) and I BETTER NOT let my grandma’s funeral make her miss school…OMFG. If I was not related to this child, I would absolutely despise her and find her a disgrace to humanity. Yes, I know, it makes me a monster, but I just…can’t stand ego and vapidity. Even in an 11 year old. Not that I am letting her know that. I paste on the stoic face, I ooh and ahh over her Pokemon cards, and I keep shit to myself unless it’s something vital. Like her pants not fitting and hanging off so badly her crack and cheeks show.

So she starts bawling and screaming that I am verbally abusing her by pointing out that her pants fit poorly and it’s, legally, indecent exposure….

Not even a mom with no tears actually crying tears and a family death can stop The Drama Llama.

Well, my dad just drove by in his rig and trailer and blew the horn, so he’s working, literally 12 hours after his mother died.

Priorities, man. Yes, work is important, but taking one day off wouldn’t have hurt them an iota. It’s just how he copes. He focuses on anything but emotion or ya know, being kind.

I think I’m just over this rant.

I will however leave you with the poem I wrote, even though it means trying to type with frozen bedroom fingers. I wrote this about grandma and how her first husband walked out on her and left her with two small children, then she married my grandpa and had another kid, but grandpa was so jealous, he wouldn’t ‘let’ her work or get a driver’s license til she hit her forties and just…did it. Never mind his fists of fury, she finally found herself.

You go, Grandma.

————

You were dealt a hand you didn’t deserve
but you paved a new road for you and yours
you forged ahead, not looking back
living life to the fullest, giving all you had
Finding your voice halfway through your life
You backed down from no one, no challenge, no fight
You used your mind and your words
to set yourself apart
into your family and writing, you poured your heart
You loved, you lost, you carried on
yet again dealt a bad hand
from life’s cruel deck of cards
Year after year you hung in there
it was one hell of a fight
now you can have the peace you’ve earned
and finally again be
with the love of your life

Free Verse- Alone

Posted in poetry with tags , , , , on May 22, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

Alone, people say,
like it’s a bad thing
being alone isn’t so bad
I wrap my arms around the wall
it doesn’t wrap its hands around my neck
alone is fine by me

Monsters- Poem About Mental Illness

Posted in mental illness, poetry with tags , , , , , on May 16, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

monsters

I am the boogeyman in your closet
the monter under your bed
I am the bug crawling under your kinvor
the works crawling round in your head

I am the bad dreams
that you cannot escape
the living nightmare from which
you can never awake

I am the parasite in your bloodstream
The predator, your soul I will take
you may wither and die
before you ever wake

I am the carnivore
upon your soul I shall feed
Leaving you a husk
making you forever bleed

You run and run and run from me
in the end you will find
I am the monster inide you
from which you cannot hide

Poem-Phoenix

Posted in poetry with tags , , , on May 15, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

Splay me open
peel back the layers
take a long look deep inside
Pick me apart
feel free to tear me down
and mock the tears I’ve cried
Build myself up
slowly from the ashes
again stronger I will rise
step forward not back
look to the future
you can see it in my eyes

Imperfect Me-Poem

Posted in poetry with tags , , , on May 14, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

Your perfectionism chokes me
provokes me
you can only be who you are
why not afford me the same
I am imperfect and flawed
messily beautiful
chaotic my forte as is perfection
is yours
The more you push me to be
more like you
the more I don’t want to be
anything like you, I only
want you to let me be
and let me be me
The messiness you shun is
the tempest within me that
keeps the fire in me alive
who you are is smothering
the flame of who I am
Yet what do I do to quash
who you truly are
Nothing
You want perfection
you’ve knocked on the wrong door
and for these reasons it’s likely
my chaos and I will
vanish into our messy ether
your kingdom of order and control
and perfectionism
all yours to savor
while I go my own way and
shake off the joylessness
I felt being under your thumb of
control and perfection
I want to be free
I want to be chaotic and messy and
mostly
I just want to be imperfect me.

Poem-Purr

Posted in poetry with tags , , , , , , on May 12, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

Middle of the night
a soft furry paw on my eyelid
is the food dish empty?
do you need more water?
Middle of the night
a wet lick on my forehead
do you need attention?
or are you saying you love me?
Middle of the night
a cold shiver met with a content purr
Warm fur pressed to my cheek
Happiness glowing from within

Poetry-Home

Posted in poetry with tags , , , on May 11, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

The cold tiles creak under my feet
another not quite dreamhouse
floors caving in, uneven
tilting to one side
off kilter, story of my life
no dream home for me it seems
but dreams are for suckers
I don’t need perfection
just a place that is my home

Ghosts- A Poem

Posted in poetry with tags , , , , , , on May 6, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

I spew these words as therapy
to rail against the ghosts that
are haunting me
I spit out rhymes that make no sense
waiting for someone to help exorcise
my inner demons
I talk, I swear, silent but screaming inside
wishing there was some safe space
where I could hide
I’m haunted, hexed, vexed, cursed
in suffering impotently
I am well versed
I spew these words as therapy
in hopes of slaying
the ghosts haunting me

The Insomniac Lounge 3:20 a.m.

Posted in anxiety, depression, insomnia with tags , , , , , , , , , on May 6, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

I tried to grab a nap by taking advantage of my kid crashing around 6:45 p.m. I was still awake at 8:45 p.m. and very aggro about it. I eventually nodded off, woke around 11 p.m. I knew I needed to do my community mental health post but instead…I went back to sleep. Then I woke again at 1 a.m. so I got up and sent Imp a message then started writing my post for community. Now it is done and scheduled and I am awake so let’s see what I can find to randomly babble about or rail against.

I think my inability to sleep longer than 3 hour increments is rant worthy. Not that I haven’t done that ad nauseum. I wish more people could grasp insomnia as a disorder. It’s frustrating and induces more anxiety, and it is also very disruptive to a normal life and planning stuff.

I guess I could do some shameless self promotion.

My poem, an ode to a friend who has gone on to a better place.

My DIY goth metal summer sandals for less than $20

3:31 a.m.

I feel fairly certain fitted bed sheets are the work of satan. I cannot keep them on my bed at all. I try, but one corner is always popping up like a demented jack in the box. I’ve even tried those strappy things to tuck under and keep the sheet on and it was a fail….eeeeeevil.

3:44 a.m.

Cheddar news guy just said, “President Trump had itchy Twitter fingers before going off on a Twitter rant…”
LOL. Sometimes the news calls it as it is.

4:26 a.m.

It’s totally normal to dye your hair at this hour, right? Meh, I couldn’t stand looking like an old gray witch much longer.

5:02 a.m.

Well, my granny grays are gone and once again, I am a cherry on top. Seriously, that’s the name of the dye I used, cherry on top. Now my kid is up and I want to go back to bed but scumbag brains are not making either of us sleepy. Herbalize time. That’s what I call it when I give her melatonin. It sounds better than ‘drug her up’. She’s just getting herbalized with a supplement sold at Dollar Tree.

That is all. Happy Wednesday.