By Claudia Ricci, Ph.D.
PROMPT — I am grateful for …
I AM GRATEFUL TODAY FOR
this poem, which is kind of an experiment,
You might call it MY NOSEDIVE
into expressive writing,
I’m desperate to see if
I can finally stop fighting.
If I can surrender to
my
absolute
terror
of the big D!
No No, not death
But DEPRESSION.
Can I use this writing to
SURRENDER?
To yield up to divine power?
Right now
Write in this moment
I am determined to allow in
All the fear I’ve been
running away from
for so long.
All the sadness
I’ve tried to stuff under
The pillow of my heart.
LET THE FEAR COME
LET THE SADNESS TOO.
BUT DEAR GOD I CAN ONLY DO
IT BY REACHING INSIDE
MY HEART
AND HITTING THE RESTART
BUTTON.
TO SURRENDER I MUST BEGIN
LOVING MYSELF MORE AND MORE,
IN EVERY
MOMENT
all day long
today and every day.
See me, looking out the window
at the dark pewter sky
that hovers over the bright green May meadow and
now hear me saying,
OK GOD BRING IT ON, BRING
ON THE DOWNPOUR
CRASH THE LIGHTNING OVER ME TOO IF YOU MUST
LET MY TEARS WASH OVER THE TREES
AND FLOWERS AND GRASS
AND BIRDS.
Before today, I really
THOUGHT IF I RAN FAST
ENOUGH AND WROTE
LONG ENOUGH
Somehow I could keep
myself on such an even keel
or in some sort of Unreality
Show that I would not have
To ACTUALLY FACTUALLY
IN THE FLESH OF
DEAD FLOWERS
KNOW THE PAIN
OF
UTTER LOSS AND DESPERATION.
I’ve been working so
hard to deny it.
SADNESS.
But now I know that
I can fight and fight and fight
Morning noon and night
And
I can write and write and write
a hundred thousand
novels
and 14 million poems
and still I must at
some point come home
to the death of joy
and laughter.
After eight weeks of isolation
I woke up TWO DAYS AGO when
I FELT DEEPLY DEEPLY LONELY.
Depressed, dammit, I vowed
I wouldn’t feel that suffering ever again.
But every time I imagine
hugging my children
warm to my bare breast
I FEEL DESPERATE
Every time I want
to hold my grandchildren
on my lap
I get slapped with more
Bad news about the virus.
We won’t be normal
Again for a long long time.
And so too does
my unhappiness seem endless
and downright dangerous.
That’s why I am writing this poem
So that I can face it:
I have to own my sadness.
The squeeze of the heart
And the gaping hole in the chest.
OH GOD IT IS RAINING NOW
I AM FEELING THE LIQUID PAIN
RUNNING UP AND DOWN
MY ARMS AND LEGS.
But I am also feeling a dribble
NO A WASH OF WARM LOVE
AND I CAN HEAR IT TOO.
I CAN FEEL LOVE WHISPERING
AND ROARING
IN MY EARS.
MY FEAR IS REAL BUT
ALSO SWADDLED
BY
MY
HEART.
I have to go very slow
To KEEP THE LOVE
CUDDLING THE
FEAR.
BUT I CAN DO THIS:
I CAN WRAP
MY DESPERATION UP
I CAN
PLACE
IT
HERE
IN A
GOLDEN
SHAWL
OF
DIVINE
LIGHT AND LOVE.
FROM HEAVEN
ABOVE
AND EARTH
BELOW.
So here now
I am going VERY
VERY
SLOWLY
I am
GOING
TO
STAY
IN
THIS
DIVINELY
SACRED
NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW
AH
SEE HOW NICE IT FEELS TO WRITE THAT!
SEE HOW NICE IT FEELS
TO FEEL THAT LOVE
EACH
AND
EVERY
MOMENT.
I VOW
NOW:
I AM GOING
TO
FEEL
MORE
AND
MORE
ENERGY
AND
PRESENCE
AND
COMFORT.
I FEEL
SOME
IN MY
FACE –
--SMILE –
I FEEL FLOODING
MY ARMS
MY
LEGS
AND TOES
AND
ANKLES
AND
NECK
AND
WRISTS
AND
EVEN THESE FINGERS.
WRITING THIS
EXPERIMENTAL POEM IS WORKING!
THE PAIN IS STILL COMING ROARING
UP FROM MY
MY ABDOMEN BUT SO IS THE LOVE.
AMEN!
LET THE NEXT POEM BE
ALL ABOUT THE VIOLET
FLAMES THE
PURELY PURPLE DIVINE
ENERGY THAT EMANATES
THROUGHOUT YOU AND
THE UNIVERSE.
You are going to focus
Your attention on your
Gut and imagine violet
Flames roaring up right
from
there below your
belly button. Just as
Mary promised it,
Every bit of
Negativity will go up
In smoke. And you
Will breathe in the smoke
And breathe out clear air
And light and
Love for every single
Person in your family
And every human being
You’ve ever called friend
And even random strangers
HERE THERE AND EVERYWHERE
YOU ARE GOING TO
BROADCAST LOVE
TO THEM FROM EVERY ONE
ONE OF YOUR
DIVINELY
INSPIRED
CELLS.
I’m telling you now,
It’s all true.
Claudia Ricci, Ph.D. is a professional writer and editor who lives near Great Barrington, MA. She is the author of three novels, one of which was nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Her short fiction and poetry have been published in numerous literary magazines nationwide. She spent fourteen years teaching literature at the University at Albany, SUNY and taught for a year at Georgetown University in 2009.