slightest cut lets in life

Church is poetry. Poetry is life. A life well lived.

Like Dicken’s “Tale of Two Cities” I have lived a tale of polar opposites. I have known a dark night of the soul and the fresh morning dew of enlightenment.

No memories can ever be forgotten but they can be forgiven. And the forgiveness allows me to wake up and be grateful for everything. Even the memories that still cause sharp pains. Those are the memories that led me to despair and wrestle in a black, plastic garbage bag until I finally took the knife, I once used against myself, and started cutting open breathing holes.

Barriers

Ever so alone in the world
you wail
years into days,
days on end a blur.

Time to dig the earth
find the roots of torment
as people weave within,
rattle my soul.

How does one understand truth? Truth was set in stone long ago. The greatest of commands, to love. Peace of mind blooms with watered intentions of serving others. Do not murder. Do not plant false lies. Do not appear as love with malice for others in your heart. Find your sixth sense and do not be fooled easily.

Often when we are hurt, our initial reaction is retaliation. The anger burns hot inside. Emotional self-discipline circumvents such reactions. I consider myself in-training. To find strength a cure.

Being honest but peaceful and forgiving paves a long road home with hope. Sometimes walking away, when possible, is best. Remembering to breathe.

Courage to exit and enter the world.

Hey peoples!!!

I have missed this place. I have missed you.

So what has been going on? So much!!! Sitting under a poetry mentor. Restructuring old poetry and finding myself. Taking piano lessons. Working on Mozart and Tchaikovsky pieces.

I start a new volunteer position in a women’s homeless shelter directing an art therapy group in mid-June. After i take a solo travel trip to Nantucket.

The daily weather is cooperating so tending to my new garden in Harvard Massachusetts. It has been almost a year that we moved to the Boston area. Busy picking up sticks winter strewn about the yard and wondering where to station a summer writing cabin. The best of my days are spent sitting atop prospect hill, watching the sunsets.

I hope to be able to spend more time here at WP. I do hope.

😘❤️🐚 jeanne

Norm 2.0 Thursday Doors

A door post… Since it has been a while and being the door pictures are backing up my phone memory… i will release a few from my time in Massachusetts… so far!

Bartlett NH storefront. A piece of America’s rural past
Lincoln NH America’s oldest ski shop

Newburyport MA door is closed… open on weekends
Tragic story behind this door… Plum Island Beach MA

Plum Island Beach MA Do Not Enter this door
Conservation Land of Harvard MA

Still River Baptist Church Harvard MA 1832 (founded 1776)
Post Office Hours posted
Boston Fanaueil Hall
Harvard MA
Harvard MA
Harvard MA

Harvard MA Cemetary

Congregational Church of Harvard MA
Mount Wachusett Massachusetts Door to good times…

Boston’s City Hall dressed for the holidays

Waiting to get seated at Joes… Boston

thoughts unleashed…

Well… you and i made it to experience another year on earth. I hope the approaching 365 days is good to you… full to the brim with positive thoughts, new adventures, reinforced friendships, old and new, with plenty of time spent writing and working on your craft. Or perhaps experimenting with a new method of expressing yourself. In short, here is to a creative 2019 of souling!

Be well beautiful people. Be well. Jeanne 💙💙💙🎶

Taking on the world. (October 2018)

lake glitter… sprinkle my life

of late
i recognize not
the girl in a mirror
looking distraught

i should be progressing
but my mind rattles.
here, sit awhile,
i promise not to startle…

then off i dawdle
to find some words,
express my heart
though rather curt

i sought me
lost along the way…
oh, but i found
amusing visions yesterday

garter snake
rock wall seasons
plant of many names
please pick up after yourself

(i brought home their cans and put them in the recycle bin.)

i dare
toil in my brain,
promptly tempt my lips
with your sexy care

kinda where
my heart resides
the trash can
ugly and obscene

insides even so…
forgive the past
the broken walk
tripped up feelings
long gone,
wade ashore
hoping i return -explore

Not sure i belong here… getting a feel! Bathing in WP love from many of you. I oft question my idea that i am a writer. How do i escape what feels like a prison? I get in these rotting moods… where i trash everyone and everything. I want to purge… i purge… than wallow in my loneliness.

Go ahead, throw me back in the pond!

On another front,
settling into
a new home,
a new town…
the comfort found
slowing my pace of life.

Border Wall (chaos ensues)

Border Wall

stone upon stone
i build this wall

Would you still like me
love me
if you knew
the words cluttered inside?

If i painted a picture
of my mind
the tendrils of poison
that caused us blind?

I am careless
and messy
with days i dont care
for you or me
not willing to share
i bury myself
under the sheets
hide for days
nothing to keep
but darkness
and misery
i apologize…

i am lost
thought i was found
just following orders
hardly a time
to celebrate.

Underneath exists layers… this is what hardens our bones. The heart does speak and lightens our loads.

Goals for 2019 and other musings…

Jeanne Elizabeth

Popping on to WP… to say HI! And to give everyone who follows my blog an update as to what I HOPE happens in 2019.

First, and foremost, I have missed all of you lovely poets, artists and dreamers… HOPE you are well and busy as my world has been quite busy too. Beyond moving to a new town and making friendships, selling and buying a new house and making it my home, and living on the East Coast and acquiring a love of my new lifestyle, I am embarking on quite a creative 2019.

‘Night Blooms’

My newest interest is felting wool roving into landscapes… taken from my photographs of an enchanting New England.

‘Forest’, ‘Mount Wachusett’, ‘Yellow Wood’

The ‘Yellow Wood’ piece is not quite complete as i am awaiting Highlighter Yellow wool roving. These pieces are smaller… generally 4×6.

My piano lessons are going well. I am tapping away and happy to announce i will be able to play simple versions of ‘White Christmas’ and ‘Jingle Bells’ at holiday celebrations. My Christmas cards are written and mailed. I enjoy the daily stroll to our post office in historic Still River. The building is not manned but does house mailing supplies and is a convenient drop-off point for stamped parcels. It is a beautiful landscape and well preserved for generations and those to come.

We had one snow fall in November, which unfortunately has melted. I was able to capture the beauty for memories and inspiration.

I bought an Underwood office typewriter in HOPES i could produce unique and one-of-kind poetry chapbooks for my favorite poets. The typewriter, turns out, is in need of extensive repairs and i am waiting to hear the prognosis. I HOPE to hear good news soon. It was my intention, after all, to create beautiful chapbooks for the poetic souls who capture my imagination daily. If all goes as originally planned… i will be setting up a section on this blog to sell those books, along with my felted landscapes, and perhaps expand to sell mine and other people’s paintings. Stay tuned!!!

And, if you have read to this point, without losing interest… i am most excited to announce i have embarked on a six-month writing adventure with a published poet who is quite extraordinary in his writing: Nicolas Samaras.

I am equally intimidated by his word prowess. My goal is not necessarily to be published … i am much too shy to have the world seeing my thoughts on paper. But i took the bullet that has been wanting to pierce my skin and watch me bleed… i take hold my stained paper and profess to be ready! The funny thing is i have been plugging away at this blog for eons… most of what is on here is complete gibberish… I believe it is time to shine the apple.

Get ready for an all new Jeanne on WP in 2019. And you? What are your goals for 2019?