Short Riff

God help me, I’m broken –
Again I wanted, but found,
My presence was bound
To things which I wished
Less remembered, oft-forgotten.

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You will not recall
What happened on such a day;
Rain gets in the way.

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No one understands
Walking these many long miles
When pain arises.

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The library is
Spurned, all books now there returned;
Hands for paper yearn.

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The number hidden
In our soul, how long we have –
So, love we must share,
Mete out kind encouragement,
And needful inspiration.

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I have a longer piece in my journal which goes beyond the first bit. Unlikely, it, the public shall see. I hide, to save the heart of being me.

If you have not read the Fantasy & Science Fiction Magazine lately, you should check it out. Relentless by Dean Koontz which came out some years ago is also worth reading.

One day I will return to reviewing books I have read this year. This list grows long.

As a prompt: Use these words in your composition – concert, guitar, mug, closed window, ghost, fairing, shower, ultimately, lake, tetradactyl.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

I am thankful, sometimes when it all falls apart, God puts it back together better.

A Voice, Recalling

When we lose someone, we lose a world. Like pulled dandelions, what we shared no longer grows, and memories begin their inexorable progression toward erasure.

Loss is not a welcome thing, but the world relies on change to bring new worth. We are only brief figments here on earth.

I remember playing with the cigar box full of marbles as a child. They were of different sizes, colors, like jewels to me. I made them families, heroes, nobles, gave them ages, dispositions, names. One would sit in the hole on the clipboard’s clip and tell the others what to do. Each globe would, in the different voices I contrived and assigned, live life in child-time.

When my son was small, I got him Weebles with their cute rounded bodies and affable faces. It occurs to me today why I preferred Weebles to the other brand: the marbles influenced me.

What life deposits in our hands, heads, hearts, pockets, shoes, we may not recognize until some complexity pulls it into mind. The sea awash within a brain is a many furrowed swell; the trenches have their heads and tales to tell.

I am not fond of goodbyes. Usually, it is me who must go away, and life goes on ever else. Death, though, is another story. All that is left to hold are anecdotes, pictures, memories we wrote. The pain is like a hammer to the brain, the million shards left of the heart; together, these foist into life oceans of tears. Even as the years go by, there are days when all fails, but the sobs that will not stop.

I would go back to the marbles if I could, but they left my inventory’s grasp somewhere in the years. Like so much along the way, I only have recollections of what I believe was yesterday. Without artifacts, there are questions, questions arresting and bold.

Today is, we can
Maybe, make a memory
Shining beautiful,
So the mind will forever
Keep it safely untarnished.

Reading books can be a treasure of inspiration.

As a prompt, take something you are reading, pick a phrase, let it marinate in your consciousness. Then write until your soul exhausts the subject, at least for a time.

Gratitude List

I am thankful:

I am here; there were many near misses.
I still learn and am teachable.
Technology astounds, confounds, and fascinates me.
Color adds so much to our lives.
Electricity keeps the world going on.

If we all work together separately, we can bring the world into a state of art. Creativity is a portion of love.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Mama said..

I miss her, she would have given me some wry bit of hope when I reported what I learned.

The fact I sleep little for the pain leads me in to the Orthopaedist for shots in my knees. The conversation today was ominous.

What I did after was catch hold of God through the music that allows me to live:

The Anchor Holds, God is in Control, Fear is a Liar, Shine, God’s Not Dead, Greatness of Our God, Chain Breaker, Miracles, God Only Knows, Children of the World, I’ll Fly Away, How Great Thou Art, We Believe, and more but I am not sure what. I sing these with the music. I also sing acapella, Come All Ye Faithful, Holy, Holy, Holy, Down By The Riverside, He’s Got The Whole World, Kumbaya, and by the time I get through, I think I will do until He is done with me.

Degenerative arthritis is just another thing to get through.

Sleep though, I need to find that elusive state. My mind will not keep without it.

I pick up a tune, set it loose, realize I am not the engine, just the caboose. I trust the couplings to hold me, keep me in line. I cannot see all the journey, and I know challenges will overrun, but I was given a destination, holding on to Jesus to keep me until I get there. Heaven waits.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Life Intrudes

Haphazard Creative has always been a place to share creativity. I have not made much of my life issues here. I am going to now.

I am having a hard time dealing with things. I had a medication change at my last appointment. My doctor and I discussed escalating symptoms.

Since I lost my Mom, it has been increasingly difficult for me to believe I have a purpose. Being alone is not ideal, then going out is hard because I tend to isolate myself. I have trust issues exacerbated by paranoia.

My insecurity and self-censure grow. I am trying to continue a creative practice, but it is steadily more difficult. Dealing with Schizo-Affective Disorder has never been easy, but before, I had family support with me. I could reality check when I needed it. I believe it is why I have thus far survived.

I am trying to get a daytime schedule in the midst of all this, and it is complicating matters. I am typically a night owl.

I have several pain issues too.

Please be patient as I try to get through everything that is taxing me. I am going to attempt continuation, but tonight I feel like creativity is a bit luxurious. I need to survive; living is another level.

Elements may all
Come together to grant dreams
But it sometimes seems
That everything conspires to
Slow progress on every track.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan