Becoming Through

Some scars are deeper
Than upon elbows, knees, shins;
Never closing, healing,
Perhaps scabbed over only
To burst back open again.
We all have one, two,
Some more, a whole multitude,
Kept silent, hidden,
Or just below the surface
Often screaming to be heard.
Our scars define us,
In ways, we never intend,
But we can break free;
Grow into deep dignity
Send pain finally to flee.


The first two lines of this came to me lying in bed, where I hoped to rest, but mostly did not because I ache. Yes, that is not proper and all sunny, but I am fighting right now like crazy. Ah, and speaking of crazy, it is not just physical pain. It is okay, though, as long as there is pain, I am confident I am alive.

It is not often something demands to be written. This did. I hope you are having an extraordinarily good week. Please stay safe, and remember, no matter what is now, your life is precious and has purpose and meaning. Thank you for taking the time to read Haphazard Creative. You may follow the site or come back as you can if you like. If you have a comment to share, that would be super.

As a prompt, create work about something that tracks the edge of acceptability or slips on over the line.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan


From mist, a riot,
An explosion of color;
Life, sudden focus.


A rope smack smacking
In rhythm to twisting hands,
Feet jump, slap pavement.


The water was warm
Dusty olive magic, see,
I could from in it
Rise upon a ski, letting
Go a world unclear to me.
I sang to water
Air, ski, knowing my safety
How free then was I
From any hearing, judging,
Me, able to be once, free.


As a prompt, memory is a marvelous tool. Look back and remember, create from out of what used to be. You can go to yesterday, or your distant past.

Thank you for visiting Haphazard Creative. Please follow the site or come again when time allows.

I hope you have a great week.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan


I Have Something To Say

As best I can, I will speak it clearly. You, me, everyone who is here living on this stupendously beautiful cataclysmic planet, is creative. Not just the poets, writers, musicians, artists, every single one of us is gifted, talented, with abilities that are fantastic and unique.

There is room for the expression of all our hearts, minds, and souls. By sharing, we can help prove one another whole. We must love enough to draw out the beauty, sometimes hidden in shame, to save lives that are drowning in pain.

Create, it is what you are meant for in time and space. Bake the exquisite cake, write the story no one knows, sing as if it is all that matters, play your guitar, piano, drums, dulcimer, harp, send a card – just because, build a building, design cars, set a grade so a building may stand, repair a car, give a helping hand, be an ambassador for right when everything seems wrong, share courage, raise the children – make them secure, be a light burning like a torch in a giant hand, create, because you must… also – because you can.

I cried today, thinking of those who went far too early away because they found this world too much to handle, too much sorrow, not enough play. I wished I could tell each of them how wondrous, beautiful they were, and somehow change what we cannot change.

In case no one told you, lately, you are loved. You are precious, a blessing, a beauty other beauties eclipsing. You are a gift to the Earth and its denizens, one of a kind, a purchase of grace.

When you walk into
The world trailing brilliant stars,
Happiness ensues;
It is a gift you freely
Give because you choose to live.


Pen skimming over
Paper bringing life surging,
Raw, onto pages.

No one may know your exact fight, but if you reach out, you will find others care about you enough to be a resting place for your weariness. They will hold you and lift you up, resurrecting courage and sufficient strength to continue. Continue, NEVER GIVE UP!

Overall, through all, in all, every day, every way, there is LOVE, and LOVE calls us to reach for the beauty we create and give the world a reason to keep on being because we who inhabit it are the meaning.

Anyway, I tried. Maybe you, you are the one that has something to say. Do not hold it in until it fades away, let it burn bright like a comet or maybe a star. Let what you create be a blessing to someone who needs it, like breath or water, so in some painted desert, they do not succumb and be carried away.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

The Cross

Sometimes even writers are inarticulate; when overcome by awe, grief, excitement, words can fail us. Such circumstance is not the best to beset a wordsmith, for merely by the name, expert use of words is proclaimed.

I struggle with discovering a way to explain Faith, Love, the meaning Jesus has to me.

The reason why I wear a Cross:

Some people criticize the Cross as a symbol of Christianity, but the cross I wear stands for the sacrifice Christ made when he bled and died that sinners could be clean of all iniquity. He multiplied a pardon from eternal separation and death’s penalty to all who in Him choose to believe. The Lamb of God, the Sinless One, gave His life upon a cruel Cross for our Salvation, Freedom, the Victory we share. Jesus rose, the Resurrected Life, He Lives, as can we if we follow Him.

Yes, the Cross is lowly, a cruel and perverted instrument of torture and death, but what matchless Love my Savior showed to place Himself upon that Cross hanging between Heaven and Earth, Eternity, and destruction. He through His Life, Death, and Resurrection became the Bridge humanity may cross to enter eternal life. So, the Cross; became sacred, anointed with His holy blood. The Atonement was provided; humanity has a gift so precious and priceless that even Heaven wept when it was brought. Upon accepting the gift of Salvation, believing in Jesus, we become part of God’s Family.

I wear a cross; there is meaning enough for me.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan