Wednesday, March 5, 2014

#riskrejection: misery

This girl has got everyone talking.

A lot.

People are jumping and puking and letting go, and it's kind of awesome.

What's all the fuss about?

RISK.

We're risking rejection.

Small, medium, and large risks are all acceptable. It's not about the what. It's about the jump.

Before I could fully participate in the original Risk Rejection group, we moved. And it was a big deal.

In a matter of weeks we went from Knoxville to Cincinnati (for a new job opportunity for the husband), and my head was spinning. Now that I'm settling in, I'm ready to jump.

First, I'm waiting on an initial edit for a fiction book I've been nursing for over five years. It will help me know if I need to throw it out or soldier on. I'm ready to hear the truth.

Next, I'm throwing some poetry your way, which tends to make me feel like that strange kid who hangs out in dark corners watching everyone else.

In my worst moments, I feel like people are confused by me or laughing at me or pitying me or . . . okay neurotic episode over. I'm throwing a poem out there, peoples, because it's been too long, and I can't seem to stop writing them. Be gentle, and give the creepy girl in the corner a smile.



Misery

if words could flatten out - like fondant -
over
brick walls built high, high, 
higher
then maybe tragedy could be beautiful

Instead words splatter flat 
(like 
old, gooey paint made thin 
again 
by too much water -
diluted, muted beyond recognition)

So fleshy knees fall to concrete while bleeding fingertips scrape
- to save - 
disappearing announcements, denouncements, renouncements
but
liquid verbiage seeps too fast into crevices deep
replete with tiny canyons holding captive every point kept, unkept
made, unmade like a crumpled, rumpled bed of indecision 
waiting 
for a tidy hand to tame the mess
that only repeats, repeats, 
repeats

I rush to glove blood-stained hands,
throw 
party dress over torn slip to participate in the 
dance
because my card is somehow still full

With every twirl of cotton-candied crinoline,
I pretend
our rending of each other is 
for entertainment purposes only

And after midnight, I'll return to touch tongue to sandpaper stones
lick words, ingest them, try to digest them
wondering
if misery is the only 
acceptable friend

15 comments:

  1. Now, that girl in the corner was always so angst and cool. Always thrilled when you write your poetry...no risk there. Just goodness.

    I don't understand the whole dancing card thing. Did people have to sign up to dance with each other? I think that's how it worked back in the day. Explanation please.

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    1. Hmm, dance cards...I don't know the full origin. They were like a map of the night for girls, right? And they were filled out before the night began. Basically, my use is more about the implication or illusion of being wanted and desired. Now, I'm going to have to google dance cards :)

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  2. smiles...you are not pitied here....smiles...
    yes, they used to sign up to dance with the ladies...which become a thing like collecting facebook friends...smiles...and you know you are wanted and desired by the best dancer there is...ha...

    good to see you...i didnt get your update that you had posted and saw you over at rachel's

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    1. Yes, I am, and for that I will ever be grateful. Great to see you, too :)

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  3. Loving your poetry!!! Keep writing. Your words flow so smoothly straight to wrap around my heart. I see your raw heart. I see me.

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    1. Thank you for the encouragement, Alene :)

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  4. I love your poetry - always heartfelt, always beautiful. Words can be so personal and it can be hard to share them. Glad you take a risk to share...

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    1. Thank you for always being such a great encourager, Mindy. I appreciate you :)

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  5. The outcast you say, bah let it flow at your bay. Hope the move went as easy as can be, they suck when going on the moving spree. And risk has to be done or you'll never have any fun

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    1. Hey, there! Yes, the move went well, and I am loving Cincinnati :) And you're right about the thrill of risking. I need to keep adding to my risk list.

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  6. Lori,

    What a treat to step in here and lean into this poem of yours. Raw, honest, with lyrical imagery and rhythm. Thanks for letting us slip in to listen quiet from the back.

    Re your comment on my post "Do You Feel It Calling You?" ...Lori, so nice to have you here and to hear from you again too! :) You're welcome and my pleasure.

    Yes, use your gifts and passions for him. It brings us such joy too, huh?

    Jennifer Dougan
    www.jenniferdougan.com

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  7. Lori,
    So good to read you again. Good luck with the book.

    Steve K.

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  8. Surely this is a site well worth seeing.

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  9. It's a treat to read your words. Glad to be risking with you, Lori.

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