My heart goes out to Australia, Puerto Rico, and the Philippines.
Our puppy is sick with Parvo. It is a dangerous virus to puppies. Fortunately, she’s doing very well and is being treated by a loving support system of amazing people. Part of the recovery process is keeping her contained while she’s positive for the virus, so that she doesn’t risk getting anyone else sick. Hence today’s poem, late though it may be…
Happy birthday, Dad.
No title for this one comes to mind–though feel free to suggest one–just memories of a good man who’s done more than his fair share for me.
Big changes are occurring in my life. A few frustrating ones. Far more good ones. Hitting goals, adjusting goals, and learning the ebb and flow of this new life I have chosen to live. One of the biggest and most difficult of these lessons has been that success can be disorienting and that’s when it’s most important to get your feet under you and push forward.
Another double post. Got yesterday’s poem written in my notebook but didn’t have the chance to share it. So here is that poem first, followed by today’s.
Sometimes we have an utterly irrational emotion overcome us. It’s a humbling experience because we know it’s irrational and it doesn’t change a thing. In fact, the knowing serves to exacerbate the problem by creating a feeling of helplessness. Art, poetry, writing, these are the tools of release and catharsis and they work wonders.
Storm in a Bottle
My dog has had an absolutely wonderful day today and only needs one thing to make it complete. Pretty sure he’s going to get it.
Good Dog’s Good Day
Surprise! Guest poem from my cohost on The Everyday Poet Podcast, Eduardo.
Special thanks to him for all the work he’s done keeping my equipment working and making the magic happen on our podcast.
You’re a wizard, Eddie!
There is a Girl…
First time sharing a poem and not giving it a title. I’d love to hear your thoughts, ideas, or suggestions. Let me know what you think it should be called in the comments below!
Been thinking on the nature of forgiveness and resentment this morning. Consider the act of simply letting go something that frustrates you or a wrong that has been done. Simple right? Easy, not so much. How does one actually perform the act of release? It’s a choice but is that the end of it? I don’t think so. I think forgiveness is a continuous series of choices, or perhaps a single choice set on repeat, that is at worst set to an eternal repeat.
Failure to make the choice, however often it needs to be made, results in holding tight to something. Something that might give you power. Something that might burn you from the inside out. Something that might turn toxic and burn people it’s not intended for.
I was asked the other day if I EVER got mad or angry. I do. Only I do one of two things with it. I let it go right away. Or I hold onto it, or a part of it, and bury it deep, where it slowly accumulates like a landfill until it spills over in passive aggressive acts or an unfounded explosion. Probably oversharing here. Just processing this habit of mine, contemplating the effects, and how to prevent it from happening or finding an appropriate outlet.