Loss of Direction in Grief

Photo by Mike Labrum on Unsplash

When/if sadness and/grief
Rob/deaden your discipline and/or dedication
You might/must decide to quit, and/or retreat.
How/why do you go on and/or continue daily
If you’ve lost/set aside energy and/or hope
For the future/tomorrow?
How long will/may grief dominate and/or destroy
Each day/night?
Who/what can relieve and/or overcome the pain?
Is/Isn’t this for God/Allah/the Oversoul/a Higher Power
To do/perform/solve/mitigate/ease?

One Week Later

Covid 19/coronavirus took/killed my older brother.
That evil/vicious virus
Struck/smote him in December
His painful/unexpected death
Was another preventable/unnecessary
Event/incident in overlong/endless 2020.

One Month Later

I speak in complete sentences now
Without hesitating on words to choose and…

They may be exposed to more than church lessons

Photo by Karl Fredrickson on Unsplash

Recently two friends and I stumbled upon the subject of religion as we were sharing things that happened to us when we were little girls.

None of the three of us attends any type of church now. None of us has much respect for organized religion.

As we shared experiences, we discovered that each of us had had some type of scary attention from a minster or an adult member of the churches we attended with our families.

We were lucky little girls. None of us was raped by an adult in our churches. …

Can we have friends we’ve never met in person?

Photo by Compare Fibre on Unsplash

Some internet friends

Can never be left behind

They’re closer than kin.

I used an American Southern word, kin, in this haiku, not to be flippant, but because it has only one syllable. 😉

The feeling I am trying to express is how much I’ve come to value the people in my internet groups (Ninja Writers, hello!), and among poets and writers who love the same types of poems, essays, and other ideas that keep us all showing up every day.

Even with the Covid-19 restrictions lifted, so that I can go out and about freely, I still rush home…

Can feel too vulnerable

Photo by Ani Kolleshi on Unsplash

I have a fear of revealing myself.
I feel too openly, easily.
I once hid it well.
It’s easy to be misread
Or misunderstood,
It’s scarier still
To be understood too well.

It’s easy to say I don’t care
What others think,
And as I’ve aged
Most of the time that’s true.
My sensors for sincerity
Are more well-tuned.
Or they were, I should say.

But too much time alone
Spent online, or, if outside,
Behind real masks,
Virtual no longer,
Has harmed my social meter.
Losing this acute sense
Makes me feel vulnerable.

Now, living more days and nights

Democracy needs the middle

Photo by Elena Mozhvilo on Unsplash

My mind says I need
To do something, anything.
To sit idly by is betrayal.
My country’s highest ideals
Are being denounced,
Disgraced, and discarded.

My rational voice says America
Was never a perfect place.
My ideals reply, no, but
Our path has always been upward,
Seeking to be and do better,
Even when progress was slow.

Our arc curves toward the new future
Deliberately leaving the past behind.

So my passivity disappoints me
Yet when I watched a video of
The violent actions taken by
Misguided, deluded citizens who
Physically attacked the Capitol site
I prefer my passivity until positive,
Peaceful, progress again prevails…

They all seem to take a bite

Photo by Science in HD on Unsplash

Political pie
Just needs three ingredients
Raise money, smile, lie

Perhaps not all politicians lie. But, when I think about that subject, I don’t see how any of them would ever get elected without at least little lies.

For example, not every baby they hold and hug can be the prettiest or most handsome baby they’ve ever seen.

So we citizens just have to accept that we will be told at least little lies. The problem I see with this premise is that too many of them graduate to constantly misleading us with giant whopper-type lies.

I’m afraid after being…

From more of Louisa’s Saturday night dreams

Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash

On Saturday nights, I have a dream lover
And I’m not young.
Neither is he, as best I can feel
We’re both younger than our years.
We’re not ready to retire our bodies and spirits
Or our desire to dance, laugh, and love.

I don’t know who he is or if
I’ve even met him sometime before.
The dream gods keep these types of secrets.
For how long I don’t know. Yet.

Tonight we are outdoors, under the stars and the moon.
On large flat boulders that don’t hurt our bare feet.
We know we are in a dream. We can feel…

Anne Chisom

Writing on whatever strikes my mood, from politics to humor (or a combination of the two), to spirituality, or whatever else shows up. Retired, not in retreat.

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