Poems
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Writing Me
Syllable through syllable, I Coax a deep self portrait. Soothing strokes and mixing textures Reveals hazy, hidden glass. To spy on through, the cat of norm, Sees a naked, blushing girl, Who shows herself through a Slippery mask and dances On a grave. |
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Arianna
I called Arianna, Heard her cry, Realizing she was a girl. Details were sketchy. Her voice, Was pale winter. ... water. I held the phone Close to my ear. She told her story. It made me think Of Leda, - and her swan. |
Funeral
The music begins to vibrate in the background
The temperature drops abruptly
Shivers run rampant down spinal cords
Morbid thoughts, images, expressions, faces flow
And poetry seems appropriate.
Time becomes an entity of hate
As do tears and guilt and wonderings
‘Carpe Diem’ lasts for one, brief moment
But fades when we let it go
The music begins to vibrate in the background
The temperature drops abruptly
Shivers run rampant down spinal cords
Morbid thoughts, images, expressions, faces flow
And poetry seems appropriate.
Time becomes an entity of hate
As do tears and guilt and wonderings
‘Carpe Diem’ lasts for one, brief moment
But fades when we let it go
Article on Anxiety
Written by Jenna Greene, under the name Jenna Butrenchuk
The first time it happened I was getting a haircut. Nothing new, nothing special. I’ve had zillions of haircuts in my life. But this time, while the hairdresser snipped at my locks, I felt a strange tingle run up my body. I couldn’t say where it came from, but it certainly wasn’t pleasant. Heat flushed my face and the inside of my body twitched. I had to take deep breaths and concentrate on the fact that the haircut was almost over and I would be out of the chair soon. It was a long fifteen minutes.
The second time it happened, I was in line at the grocery store, loaded up with a heavy basket of goods. While I waited, I felt the same uncomfortable tingle and alarming rush of heat as before. But this time my fight or flight reflex kicked in. Leaving my groceries behind, I rushed out of the store as if I was being chased. Once outside, I felt better and I drove home calmly.
Now, many people would have been hyper-aware of these incidents – alarmed, or at least concerned. Not me. I brushed them aside. As a teacher, at any given moment I have dozens of other things to concern myself with. Distractions are available in plenty. So, though I didn’t exactly forget these incidents, neither did I dwell on them. I didn’t regard them as anything frightful or important.
So, when weeks later I began having stomach problems, I never made a connection. I simply drank more tea than I usually did – (switching from Earl Grey to lemon chamomile) – bought Gravel and altered my breakfast patterns. I assumed I had a minor bug or age was changing my stomach’s sensitivity. (I was almost 26 – gasp!)
But none of these remedies worked. My stomach was constantly in knots. I went to work each day wondering if I would last until four o’clock. And that was a complicated worry for a second-year teacher working her first full time job. I needed to be with my students, and I needed to be healthy. I needed my principal to see I was doing a good job and I needed a monthly paycheque.
The problem got worse. My stomach was always threatening to expel food. I felt rushes of heat and uncertainty in public situations. I lay awake at night worrying. But I didn’t tell anyone what was going on, of course. I was a strong, single, independent female and I figured either the problem would go away or I’d find a way to deal with it.
That theory lasted about a month.
The second time it happened, I was in line at the grocery store, loaded up with a heavy basket of goods. While I waited, I felt the same uncomfortable tingle and alarming rush of heat as before. But this time my fight or flight reflex kicked in. Leaving my groceries behind, I rushed out of the store as if I was being chased. Once outside, I felt better and I drove home calmly.
Now, many people would have been hyper-aware of these incidents – alarmed, or at least concerned. Not me. I brushed them aside. As a teacher, at any given moment I have dozens of other things to concern myself with. Distractions are available in plenty. So, though I didn’t exactly forget these incidents, neither did I dwell on them. I didn’t regard them as anything frightful or important.
So, when weeks later I began having stomach problems, I never made a connection. I simply drank more tea than I usually did – (switching from Earl Grey to lemon chamomile) – bought Gravel and altered my breakfast patterns. I assumed I had a minor bug or age was changing my stomach’s sensitivity. (I was almost 26 – gasp!)
But none of these remedies worked. My stomach was constantly in knots. I went to work each day wondering if I would last until four o’clock. And that was a complicated worry for a second-year teacher working her first full time job. I needed to be with my students, and I needed to be healthy. I needed my principal to see I was doing a good job and I needed a monthly paycheque.
The problem got worse. My stomach was always threatening to expel food. I felt rushes of heat and uncertainty in public situations. I lay awake at night worrying. But I didn’t tell anyone what was going on, of course. I was a strong, single, independent female and I figured either the problem would go away or I’d find a way to deal with it.
That theory lasted about a month.
Excerpt from a short humorous story: "Loki, the Trickster Dog"
Yes, my nemesis is a 45 pound ball of fur with a tail. I admit it freely, without shame. (Well, without much shame). But, in my defense, Loki isn’t just like any other dog. He’s a cunning genius, with the aloof stubbornness of a cat, who may just be the reincarnation of Harry Houdini. The sound you just heard? It was him, pulling open the oven door. The picture frames scattered on the floor? The result of a wayward tail. The tinge of brown on the basement floor? Well, that so happens to be his favourite ‘dumping’ ground.
This white and brown Siberian Husky, bearing the true name of Tyko but more accurate moniker of Loki, has been the bane of my existence for six years now, ever since he arrived on the heels of my future husband, Adam Winter. On the day of our first meeting, he assessed my character with a glance, found me wanting, and relegated me to beta standing within his pack. Since then, any attempt at dominance on my part has been cleverly, deliberately, and successfully thwarted.
This white and brown Siberian Husky, bearing the true name of Tyko but more accurate moniker of Loki, has been the bane of my existence for six years now, ever since he arrived on the heels of my future husband, Adam Winter. On the day of our first meeting, he assessed my character with a glance, found me wanting, and relegated me to beta standing within his pack. Since then, any attempt at dominance on my part has been cleverly, deliberately, and successfully thwarted.