You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘grief’ tag.

TGAP 3 Week 25 submitted September 18, 2011 Art work “Life’s Chaos” by Photobug Shar.

“Life’s Chaos” by Photobug Shar
At the abrupt brick
Corner of each season,
I am again startled
By your absence.
 
When the birds have raped
Each sunflower of her seeds
And she attempts to twist toward the sun,
The giant, droopy flower
Heads bow, echoing
Me without.

This is my submission Week 25 of the Twin Geekz Artz Project 3. The art work is by fellow Geek Photobug Shar.

TwinGeekz is a loose affiliation of loose affiliates in New Hampshire who began the TwinGeekz Artz Project challenge in May of 2005; the task was for each of the original seven participants to produce and submit a piece of art every week for one year.  Every artist succeeded in completing their 52 pieces of art, and thus the TGAP theory was proven: “all creativity needs is a deadline”. 

We grew each of the three years that the project continued. It’s time to bring it back.  Join us?

TGAP 3 Week 12 submitted June 20, 2011

Black Heart by Photobug Star
This new grief,
Wide brimmed
Upon the old grief,
Weighs upon me
As I slough
Through my day,
Scythe in fist,
Trying to harvest
This cartload
Of young wheat.

This is my submission for Week 12 of the Twingeekz Artz Project 3.  The accompanying art work is by fellow geek, Photobug Shar.

TwinGeekz is a loose affiliation of loose affiliates in New Hampshire who began the TwinGeekz Artz Project challenge in May of 2005; the task was for each of the original seven participants to produce and submit a piece of art every week for one year.  Every artist succeeded in completing their 52 pieces of art, and thus the TGAP theory was proven: “all creativity needs is a deadline”. 

We grew each of the three years that the project continued. It’s time to bring it back. 

Let’s do it again! #tgap2020 join us!

Week 8 of the TwinGeekz Artz Project 03 submitted May 22, 2011

Man and the Abyss by Kenia Cris

And so, as my heart is breaking,

this I know: anger is

an easy emotion. It masks

Sorrow witnessing

the loss that errs

in your frail body

waving and falling,

too slowly, away from

this tethering earth.

I’d mourn, but fury

is a cloak to guard

against that evil.

A red number that

drapes, lush velvet

to the floor. Dramatic,

it yells, bangs

pots in the kitchen;

is glib when you ask

for help and don’t say please.

And no tears ball up

in the apples of my

cheeks, cause rashes,

eat my flesh. Flesh

out my heart. Yes,

this slow burn is

an Armani gown, flowing

and matching the red carpet

to the Oscars. Best

Actress, that’s me.

No statue this time,

You’ll see.

This is my submission for Week 08 of the Twingeekz Artz Project 3.  The accompanying art work is by guest geek, Kenia Cris.

TwinGeekz is a loose affiliation of loose affiliates in New Hampshire who began the TwinGeekz Artz Project challenge in May of 2005; the task was for each of the original seven participants to produce and submit a piece of art every week for one year.  Every artist succeeded in completing their 52 pieces of art, and thus the TGAP theory was proven: “all creativity needs is a deadline”. 

We grew each of the three years that the project continued. It’s time to bring it back. 

Let’s do it again! #tgap2020 join us!

TGAP 3 Week 03 April 16, 2011

“GirlGap” by fellow Geek Gina Martin

This morning, I ran over my own heart
In the driveway; backed right the fuck
Over that thing with the left
Rear tire of my Volkswagen Jetta.

She flopped around a bit on the black
top, then seemed to die – a dramatic,
Silent film star death. But
It was a lie.

Now, I swear, she is out for brains.
Half- dead and part alive. Defenseless,
Though. I think you could rip her arms
Off. They are attached only
With rotten sinews, thread-like

Veins. Her clothes decay
And begin to fall off around her.
Tonight she will roam, nearly naked
In her half-life state. 

Ribs, what incompetent crypt-keepers you
Have been. Letting her out to wander,
Nude, cold, and angry. And none of you, each
Lovely, boney branch will explain
This wandering muscle, anxious,
Hungry, grieving, alone.

This is my submission for Week 03 of the Twingeekz Artz Project 3.

TwinGeekz is a loose affiliation of loose affiliates in New Hampshire who began the TwinGeekz Artz Project challenge in May of 2005; the task was for each of the original seven participants to produce and submit a piece of art every week for one year.  Every artist succeeded in completing their 52 pieces of art, and thus the TGAP theory was proven: “all creativity needs is a deadline”. 

We grew each of the three years that the project continued. It’s time to bring it back.

Let’s do it again! #tgap2020 join us!

Week #1 TGAP3 April 2011

There is no rationalizing ones self
Out of true grief. It is there,
Pervasive and insistent in all
You do. As you scoop the catbox, or
Redecorate the dining room, it has collected,
A puddle of piss, in some sharp
Corner of the room that beats,
In wait of a lucid moment.
 
And a little daughter’s righteous
Anger (new haircuts, cleaned
wounds, fed pets) at the world and ugly
Decaying Mr. Death will not
Cloak her from this drizzle
of fop and circumstance
that pools around her
motionless ankles.


Artwork by fellow Geek Robyn Piper for Week 1 of TGAP3

 TwinGeekz is a loose affiliation of loose affiliates in New Hampshire who began the TwinGeekz Artz Project challenge in May of 2005; the task was for each of the original seven participants to produce and submit a piece of art every week for one year.  Every artist succeeded in completing their 52 pieces of art, and thus the TGAP theory was proven: “all creativity needs is a deadline”. 

Let’s do it again! #tgap2020 join us!

December 11, 2016

Nana lights the fruitcake.
There is no point, whining
About how it used to be.
Spoons on the noses.
Nana lighting - or attempting
To light - the fruitcake
In the blue dining room

Under the warm bright
Of a gifted chandelier.
Toy mice left on the china,
Forgotten relics from
Santa's stocking stuffing.

Those memories are there.
Not static, changing
And growing, but past.

Tomorrow versions of our family
Morph and shift like a
Werewolf under the full moon

Or a mild butterfly's
Cocoon. We must embrace
Each future holiday

And the unmarked opportunities
For the new under the memories
Of those who have gone.

This is Poem #217 from the  Poem (almost) Everyday Project. Starting in mid-January 2016, I challenged myself to spend a year in which I’d wake most mornings and write a poem before my first cup of coffee. By the end of the year,  I had written 241 poems.  Here, I have published second drafts of  those pieces copied directly from my journal with minimal editing from their “vomit draft” state.

November 21, 2016

How many times did he have to
Come to the podium and help
Us grieve the latest mass

Shooting? How many dead,
This time? Tears
Not allowed to pool and drain

Like the blood on a nightclub
floor. This recent

Grief many never end
And not a shot's been fired,
Yet. I may just arm

Myself to fight this.
Four slow years of mourning
The loss and nothing gained.

This is Poem #204 from the  Poem (almost) Everyday Project. Starting in mid-January 2016, I challenged myself to spend a year in which I’d wake most mornings and write a poem before my first cup of coffee. By the end of the year,  I had written 241 poems.  Here, I have published second drafts of  those pieces copied directly from my journal with minimal editing from their “vomit draft” state.

October 29, 2016

Stained glass in Trinity Episcopal Church, Tilton, NH
The whisper of you
Is in everything
I do. How can the world

Continue when your shadow
Has left the side of walls?
My hand lays cold

Without the grip of yours.
Grabbed in the violence
Of night terrors,

When you visit,
Quiet, but behind
The veil of the other side.

Bump in the night.
They say it is how
It happens.

I sink to the wooden floor
Of the vestibule in grief,
Gripping for you in angst.

I have never known
Pain as this. Even
The window casing

Crashing down and blackening
My fingernails
Cannot compare.

Yet, I cower in the dark,
Under the blankets, and knowing.
You will visit again.

This is Poem #188 from the  Poem (almost) Everyday Project. Starting in mid-January 2016, I challenged myself to spend a year in which I’d wake most mornings and write a poem before my first cup of coffee. By the end of the year,  I had written 241 poems.  Here, I have published second drafts of  those pieces copied directly from my journal with minimal editing from their “vomit draft” state. 

September 4, 2016

A wake up call 
At 3am can change
Everything.

When the body next
To you is now just
A body.

What number do you call -
9-1-1 or the morgue?
The police will come, too;

When the stretcher
Rolls out the front
Door and away
From you
Forever.

This is Poem #160 from the  Poem (almost) Everyday Project. Starting in mid-January 2016, I challenged myself to spend a year in which I’d wake most mornings and write a poem before my first cup of coffee. By the end of the year,  I had written 241 poems.  Here, I have published second drafts of  those pieces copied directly from my journal with minimal editing from their “vomit draft” state. 

August 15, 2016


Sometimes the bucket has to dive,
Travel deep to gather the iron
Rich water. And alcohol, 

Water in itself, a tonic,
To get to the bottom quicker.
We can pile up stones

Over what really destroys
Us. Pretend we have never lost
Anything or anyone, but

It is down there. No
Matter how big the stupid
Smile smeared across the face. 

Well of Initiation

This is Poem #149 from the  Poem (almost) Everyday Project. Starting in mid-January 2016, I challenged myself to spend a year in which I’d wake most mornings and write a poem before my first cup of coffee. By the end of the year,  I had written 241 poems.  Here, I have published second drafts of  those pieces copied directly from my journal with minimal editing from their “vomit draft” state.

Goodreads

Lady Diction’s Calendar

April 2020
M T W T F S S
 12345
6789101112
13141516171819
20212223242526
27282930