2022 Creativity Project – April 3

Scares Out There

My dad worked on the equipment which compacted the waste that came into the landfill adjacent to one of the big metropolitan cemeteries. I accompanied him to work often.

I never claim to understand my life; I have, with some effort, come to accept most of it.

There were always odd interactions with machines. Most of them drew scant attention because they happened with other people present. These things are still a blight upon my life and have grown worse with the advent of technology.

The first time one of the dozers parked on the cemetery access lane cranked itself up as I walked by was a bit unnerving. The more times it happened, the less it could be explained as unrelated to my presence.

At the time, I wondered if some friendly residents were protesting my driving in the cemetery as I learned how. I never ran off the lanes or drove exceedingly fast, avoiding all processions. If a tent was over an open grave, I did not go near that area. So, I think it improbable I was disturbing anyone’s peace.

The colossal mausoleum, which looked like a gothic castle, fascinated me. I wanted to see how brave I was. I asked the caretaker of the building if a few friends and I could come about an hour before dark and stay until 3 am. I never dreamed he would say, “Why not? Just don’t break anything or leave any trash.”

I was the only girl in our Dungeons & Dragons group, so securing this little adventure stood to raise my cred. The thing I never expressed to anyone beforehand was that I was beyond terrified. This was when I was sixteen, and I had been reading some superb horror and science fiction ever since I left the children’s section in the library.

I always had an overactive imagination, plus I believed in ghosts.
When the evening arrived, the guys came with machetes, drinks, and snacks. There was a staff or two in evidence, as well. I brought flashlights, enough for the group. I never met a flashlight I was unwilling, given the opportunity, to possess.

When we entered the building, it was brightly lit. No sweat, everyone was okay. I walked down a corridor and had steps following close, so I thought one of the gang was there. When I turned around to invite them up beside me, no one was in sight. Creepy.

When the lights went down, I began to notice echoes. Everything we did was mirrored in sound. The thing that almost sent my courageous friends and me scurrying for the doors; when we were perfectly quiet and motionless, we could hear ourselves moving around engaged in novel conversations.

I wanted to go up in the attic; I mean, when would I ever have others to go with me? We climbed the corkscrew stairs up to the top floor. It was strange; there were barrels and boxes stacked everywhere. Some had food labels, and some had poison labels. The government seemed to have hijacked this space for disaster supplies. I did not like the idea of foodstuffs and weapons stockpiled so nearly together.

We started back downstairs with me near the rear. I noticed the guys had made a half-circle at the bottom. When I hit the floor, the one behind me pushed me forward, and all the rest made growling sounds and reached out for me. You may understand; I screamed and left the building like a Pomeranian with its ears on fire.

I almost drove home and left them there. I could have in good conscience. It would have served them right. I made them think so; I started the Cadillac and headed for the gated entrance. They were running to catch the car. I have half a heart that functions, so I unlocked the doors and let them in.

There is another mausoleum story, but I think it is for a later date.

Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Means

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

I have been meaning
To explain who I am, may be,
Is not always who
Strictly I mean as defined
By this voice, words, these two feet.

My eyes carry clues,
But even they lack evidence
Because the heart-beat
In my chest and the preserve
Of my mind go further, deep.

What you see is not
Often what you get, riches
Are hidden in doubt
Covered in terrible fear
Holding back, choking on tears.

I cannot stand here
Yet, I do, as I believe
I must. Why? Because
Someone should do what it takes
To wake the community,

Convey mentally ill
Can live without most restraints
Doing possible
Like anyone, though made harder,
Complications, divergent ways,

Creativity
Finds a flowing flood falls fast
Dipped body whole
Going within and without
Never giving up or in,

The voice louder, in
Color brighter, some wilder,
Linked like all others,
Human, as someone newborn,
Those long-lived; loved thoroughly,

The same/different,
Untamed, giving, love alive,
God placed – no mistake,
Painting history’s pages
With sharing, reach, making much.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Gratitude List

I am thankful:
1. I have been waking earlier.
2. I am enjoying my corded keyboard and mouse.
3. I have recently finished several books.
4. I created art this morning.
5. I appreciate that I have a home.

Prompt
Think about your life and the human condition and pick an instance that appeals from which to create a written or artistic work.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Becoming Better Able

You may have forgotten, but remember now, dear, you are a blessing. No matter what words were said to, over you, or what actions were taken, you are precious, loved, and have a unique purpose. God set you in place to accomplish things only you can do. Every moment has prepared you for this time.

Be open, be ready because opportunities are inbound, and you must become the pilot. There may be agonies, doubts, and fears, but no one lives with trials forever. Suffering is preparation, building strength and determination. Often heartache and heartbreak teach gentleness and kindness. Empathy is born in pain.

Understanding is a gracious gift given to those who survive hardship. When you have temptations and tribulations, you can remain steadfast in prayer for the Lord Jesus will be your guiding strength, and after the storms pass, blessings will arrive. Mercy and grace be with you all your life, and the Lord keep you always.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Don’t

When it all goes wrong and you are tired of the fight. When the world seems dark like a moonless night. When you feel lost, far from the light. Hold on, do not give in or give up.

In those moments when you barely stand, when doubt and fear clasp your hands, have courage. You are not forgotten; remember, you are begotten of Love.

The things you struggle with are seen by the Savior by whom you are redeemed. Take all your trouble, place it with Jesus; His mercy and grace are sufficient for every need. Through Christ, you are made an overcomer, latch on to His promise with faith and prayer. Let the Lord relieve your cares.

© Jo Ann J. A.Jordan

When I write on my phone line breaks do not work. Therefore I give you a prose poem.

When And Ever

The relationship with
Time is unreliable,
Past invades present
Without an invitation
Giving no hint or warning.
Although sometimes things
Crop up like pleasant hauntings,
Others much darker.
Living in the stream wavers,
Unfolds personality.
Thoughts flinch in passing –
Some neglected on arrival,
Superstitious fear,
If held, could these manifest?
Clear concentration, be blest.
Treasures run away
Appear again in vision,
Maybe now gain, claim,
The mystery retains charm
What comes, comes, as it will, still.
The search, clarity,
Love is the treasure, fullest
Measure of life lived
Whether past, present, future,
All is in sharing, caring.
Time unravels
Pieces everywhere, chasing
Forever in fog
Blindfolded except when free
Accorded chances to see.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Prompt: Expound on your relationship with time.