Writing and Dreaming

[ela-meadows]

As a person with complex PTSD, Agoraphobia, and Generalized Anxiety Disorder, going out can be incredibly difficult. I was very done with today already, but found out my little one is sick so I'm taking on care earlier then scheduled.

After 10 days on isolation for COVID my grocery situation is not in a place to take on caring for a sick tiny human so I put on some music by my favorite artist (Smash Into Pieces), hid inside a hoodie, and got it done.

Sometimes the simplest tasks require the most strength. I've learned to accept that. As long as the essentials get done, the rest will happen when when they can.

[ela-meadows]

A relentless heat

Cool breeze offers no relief

Urban summer day

[ela-meadows]

I loathe mosquitos

Watching my Venus Fly Trap

Consume them is bliss

[ela-meadows]

My Body, Home for My Soul

Content Warning: discussion of abuse, weight and dieting I expect this method will not work for everyone, maybe it won’t work for most peopl

I've put together a new blog post and made updates to my website so I can share more of the various art forms I enjoy expressing myself with. Hope you enjoy

Content warning: This specific post discusses abuse, weight and dieting.

[ela-meadows]

Happy Mothers Day to all the lovely mother figures who bring warmth and joy to those around them.

Warmth wrapped around me I then spread around my child They will know safety

[ela-meadows]

Stars sparkling in the darkness Glittering in the night sky Beauty and power and goodness Hope rising up in my soul

Moon glowing brightly at nightfall Lighting up every forest glade Elegant and majestic and tall The trees and moon correspond

Fairies flutter in the meadows Skipping from bloom to bloom Fey and glad and foes Disappearing at dawn

Image Description: Two champaign glasses with etched writing and tarnished silver stems lay broken on a glass table.

The Story Behind the Photo

Today I set out the two engraved wine glasses from my wedding, opened up my favorite wine, drank from both glasses, then ceremonially smashed them as a celebration of my divorce. The road since I met my ex-husband in 2009 has been a difficult one. I'm thrilled to be continuing in my own journey and healing the scars he left me with.

My word of the year for 2024 is absterge: to cleanse, especially by wiping clean. Soon, perhaps I'll make a post going into more detail about that. For now I am reveling in two smashed glasses I can deposit in the dumpster, delicious Canadian Ice Wine in my system, and my favorite caramel dark chocolate savored in my mouth. Yet most of all...I am savoring the fresh breeze and sunshine and light of being truly free from a man who did so much harm to me.

[ela-meadows]

Winter Storm

Dark clouds crowd above Graupels pelt my umbrella Rush home to the fire

Image Description: A black miniature poodle, Yorkshire terrier mix wearing a bright pink puffer vest stands in a drift of white snow.

Poem

Winter Storm

Dark clouds crowd aboveGraupels pelt my umbrellaRush home to the fire

Podcast:

https://app.aureal.one/episode/2089163

It’s Monday and we all know what that means. Time to share this week’s Creative Boops. If you’re unfamiliar with the concept the goal is to encourage creativity either through use of the weekly words or simply the reminder that there are other creatives out in the world adventuring.

This week’s words are Paradigm, Hunger, Nestle, Active, Sentimental, Graupel, and Ability. Winter darkness is fully in earnest, especially with the time change. I loathe the short days and struggle immensely with my depression during the dark months. I have little tricks I use to combat this though. A cute umbrella to ward off the precipitation, setting up my Christmas tree early and basking in its warm light, and curling up next to a video of a fireplace under my heated blanket.

Image Description: A black miniature poodle, Yorkshire terrier mix wearing a bright pink puffer vest stands in a drift of white snow.

[ela-meadows]

Mountain Stream

A mountain stream Is like a dream

Beautiful and bright Like a starry night

A mountain stream Is a team

With rainbow and weather To flowers and heather

A mountain stream With so bright a gleam

Like a setting sun When the day is done

A mountain stream

Poem:

Mountain Stream

A mountain streamIs like a dream Beautiful and brightLike a starry night A mountain streamIs a team With rainbow and weatherTo flowers and h

Podcast:

I’d be remiss if I spoke about my journey of exploring poetry without including one of my earliest pieces. I wrote this poem in elementary school with vibrant pink and purple pens. I drew what I considered pretty mountains on lined paper using markers and blue ink. We all start somewhere. This poem was inspired by my childhood fantasies of magical mountains, fairies and adventures. May your creative efforts bring you to joyous and challenging expressions that change the world for the better.

Image Description: An original painting by the author depicting a vibrant blue waterfall splashing down over grey rocks adorned with trailing green vines.

[ela-meadows]

Iron Bacteria

You just keep growing Ever showing My failure to keep up Pink ring around the drain I am full of self disdain

Why can't I do a simple task Daily cleaning that never lasts I want my home to be A sanctuary But it's fully unsanitary

Poem:

Iron Bacteria

You just keep growingEver showingMy failure to keep upPink ring around the drainI am full of self disdain Why can’t I do a simple taskDaily

Podcast:

https://app.aureal.one/episode/2089146

The inspiration for this one is quite straightforward. Cleaning around the faucet on my bathroom sick often gets procrastinated or valued lower than other tasks. I keep my kitchen area clean. I tidy up my bed and rinse the shower, but for some reason cleaning around the faucet is daunting. It ends up growing a nasty pink film that I believe is called iron bacteria. If I’m wrong feel free to enlighten me.

One day I was staring at the pink film frustrated and panicky about my failure to accomplish something that felt so incredibly basic. I channeled those feelings into this poem and am honestly thrilled with the results despite not being thrilled by the yick. And as a little victory, I’ve actually kept the bathroom sink largely clean since then. Right now it is pristinely white and calming.

Image Description: Expansive green algae blooms float on the surface of the Rideau Canal in Ottawa, Ontario. Sections of clear water reflect the cityscape and sky. Buildings and trees are seen in the mirror smooth surface.

[ela-meadows]

Staccato

Staccato Drumbeats Matching my pulse

Tapping Footfalls I simply can’t stop

Swishing Skirt Twirling about my legs

I dance on and on Through the night

Poem:

Staccato

StaccatoDrumbeatsMatching my pulse TappingFootfallsI simply can’t stop SwishingSkirtTwirling about my legs I dance on and onThrough the nigh

Podcast:

https://app.aureal.one/episode/2089136

I love dancing. Watching it, participating in it, there’s a magic that springs to life when moving with music. In high school a friend invited me to the swing dancing club she attended. It’s since gone defunct but will forever hold a treasured place in my heart. I was also a pianist for many years and one of my favorite elements to play was the staccato sections. For this piece I pulled in my favorite elements of music and dance as well as the thrilling feeling of a twirly skirt to create a punchy poem reminiscent of those staccato sounds in music.

Image Description: A curvy woman with long brown hair in a pony tail wearing brown sunglasses and a pale pink knee length dress with a thin white belt spins with her hands extended from her sides. Her dress is swirling around her legs.

[ela-meadows]

Eggnog – weekly haiku wrap up

Crafts hawked in the church, Basement buzzes with cheer's mirth Christmas fair's warm joy.

Shiny rocks and art Raven's collection of things A child's valuables

Race downstairs at dawn Memories as clear as day Tear into presents

Pine scented candles Wafting delight through the air Eggnog in my mug

Time keeps on passing No way to catch it in hand You keep growing up

We change as we age I hope we talk every day When my hair is frost

Fireplace and stockings Mistletoe hung by the door Lone Christmas morning

Today’s haiku collection was honestly a challenge to write. My creative side is in an ebb at the moment – hopefully building up to something profound but currently not wanting to move. So I stared at the words for a long time before catching sight of my little Christmas tree and decided to try pulling the two together into something. I hope it worked out okay. I’m curious about what your thoughts are about it. The prompts were Passing, Raven, Frost, Fireplace, Hawk, Pine and Clear Day.

Image Description: A close up image of part of a Christmas tree. The ornaments in focus include a child's felt craft red and green stocking, a wooden star with the baby Jesus with his parents burned into it, and an angel made of grey wire and white beads.

Poem:

Weekly Haiku November 18-24

Prompt: Passing Time keeps on passingNo way to catch it in handYou keep growing up Prompt: Raven Shiny rocks and artRaven’s collection of th

Podcast:

https://app.aureal.one/episode/2089129

[ela-meadows]

Perfect Daughter Content Warning: Childhood trauma, abuse

You wanted to control me And you did Very successfully Now I am choking Unable to breathe Through the reality and agony Of dreams I can’t believe in Of loves I can’t pursue Of hope I cannot fathom

Even walking out the door Rips a hole in my chest Demands so much of me That all I can manage after Is to lay down

I don’t want to die It’s not that I just don’t know how to live I don’t know how to breathe I don’t know how to hope I don’t know how to believe I don’t know how to feel I don’t know how to love I don’t know what I am imagining And what is actually real

I’m not certain But I suppose you got what you wanted A perfect daughter With no thoughts of her own No hope for the future Few good memories of her past

Gagging Because crying is too loud Its dangerous to be noticed

Poem:

Perfect Daughter

You wanted to control meAnd you didVery successfullyNow I am chokingUnable to breatheThrough the reality and agonyOf dreams I can’t believe

Podcast:

https://app.aureal.one/episode/2089122

This poem is an incredibly personal one. In it I express the emotional toll growing up in an unhealthy, legalistic, conservative Christian environment. I was once a loud, feral child who in grade one lost her voice from screaming so much both in the playground and in torment at home that I developed calluses on my vocal cords. I lost my voice, and there was concern by the doctors that the damage was permanent. Through extensive therapy and months of frustrating rules about being silent and not trying to talk unless it was an emergency and then only whisper, I eventually recovered my voice. I moulded myself into a perfect daughter to appease people who severely punished stepping out of line.

I was still the loudest person in my social circle but was far quieter than everyone else in my family. I gave up trying to be heard. At night I’d wait till my little sister was asleep then sob as quietly as I could into a pillow so I didn’t wake her. I wanted to protect her. I didn’t feel that I could let her show her how broken I was. As long as I kept my head down, I was generally unmolested.

I married early and was further crumpled under what was expected of me as wifely duties. In 2017 fissures developed in my emotional walls and over the next three years everything fell apart. Those around me, and I myself tried to force me into the mold of perfect daughter and perfect wife, yet all that crumbled into nearly deadly shards. It’s only been amid the debris of who I thought I’d be that life is slowly returning to my soul. I am often caught up on the jagged edges of my past and break down, but I now have safe people around me to move forward.

If you’re in an unsafe situation I hope you are able to find a way to escape. It hurts like perhaps nothing else ever will, but three years after I completely broke free I can say that for me at least, there is another side. It’s not perfect, but it’s better.

Image Description: Freshly baked collection of Rose blossom apple tarts. The apples are sliced thin and carefully arranged in rings inside the pie crust to create rose shaped deserts.

[ela-meadows]

Brilliant

The world dressed and waiting In brilliant winter white All to quickly to be sullied By traffic of the night Trying to retain beauty Amidst the salt and grit and tears Will anybody listen when I tell All my dark fears

Poem:

Brilliant

The world dressed and waitingIn brilliant winter whiteAll to quickly to be sulliedBy traffic of the nightTrying to retain beautyAmidst the s

Podcast:

https://app.aureal.one/episode/2089104

For this poem I wanted to tie in the two elements of the crisp beautiful perfection and innocence of an untouched winter morning as well as the concept of historically the perfect bride who is virginal and has also been untouched as a man. And yet I wanted to have that fear and grit and pain of life that we all experience. To bring in where we have “traffic of the night” which could be either taken as a sexual thing or just the movement of vehicles turning up the dirt and snow into slush. And then the finale “Will anybody listen when I tell all my dark fears.” There’s that sense of you are expected to have perfection. People don’t want to see that slushy, gritty inside. I really wanted to play with that contrast of those two images and how both snow and individuals can experience an outside of perfection while inside they are struggling.

Image Description: A woman snowboarder in tan pants, a brown jacket with caramel accents and a black helmet leans back while traveling down a ski hill in the Gatineau Hills. Trees on either side jut up against the winter white.

[ela-meadows]

Victory

You call me names I don’t care I’ll break your chains Escape your snare Try to keep me down With an ear ringer of nonsense I’ll have the victory You’ll wear the frown

The mandible claw You hold in your hand Is perfect truth of what I saw You don’t care for any So none care for you

Claw, yell But I won’t hide in a shell You lose You and your ear ringer comments And mandible claw

Poem:

Victory

You call me namesI don’t careI’ll break your chainsEscape your snareTry to keep me downWith an ear ringer of nonsenseI’ll have the victoryYo

Podcast:

https://app.aureal.one/episode/2089091

I wrote this poem in High School and decided to share it this month as part of my podcast to honour Mrs. Hough who spearheaded the writing club I attended. We were affectionately known as the Disappearing Kimonos which I understood to be a reference to someone’s creative writing that was adopted as the groups name. The prompt for this poem was to utilize various wrestling terminology that was randomly assigned to each of us. I pulled on the inspiration of a competition to conceptualize self confidence in the face of verbal assault. To all my fellow Kimonos out in the world: I smile fondly whenever I remember our times together.

Image Description: A furry black feral pig stands in a swamp with water dripping from its mouth. It is up to its torso in the water and has lovely soft brown eyes.

[ela-meadows]

Animals in Autumn

Prepping for winter We migrate or hibernate Avoiding cold claws

Image Description: Two large birds circle in a blue sky with puffy white clouds.

Poem:

Animals in Autumn

Prepping for winterWe migrate or hibernateAvoiding cold claws

Podcast:

https://app.aureal.one/episode/2089077

Monday is the day I share creative boops – a word for each day of the week to inspire creativity for myself and the community. The challenge to myself is to see how many of the words of the week I can snug into a the 17 syllables of a haiku. This week’s words are Child, Migrate, Innumerable, Claw, Versatile, Hibernate, and Complete. These words plus the turning of the weather inspired thoughts of the many ways animals (and people) adjust their ways of doing life as winter comes to call.

Image Description: Two large birds circle in a blue sky with puffy white clouds.

[ela-meadows]

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Sweater

Wrapped in your sweater Warmth and security holds me Things might not get better But I am cared for by somebody

Poem:

Sweater

Wrapped in your sweaterWarmth and security holds meThings might not get betterBut I am cared for by somebody

Podcast:

https://app.aureal.one/episode/2089067

Sweater is my favorite new poem. There’s nothing particularly fancy or complex about it – just content, cozy vibes. I’ve been a single mom for a while and I’m in an incredibly happy place overall – despite my mental health struggles. There are still tough days though, and a dear friend of mine lets me borrow his sweater for them. It’s a size 4x and makes me feel like the silly, safe child I never had a chance to be. This poem popped into my head of its own accord while I was wearing it one day and while I tweaked it a bit for rhythm and rhyming it was essentially fully formed on arrival. Whenever I’m having a particularly difficult day I cozy up in something soft and recite this poem as a reminder that I’m not alone in the darkness.

Image Description: An arm in a pink and purple tie dye sweater reaches towards a small black dog and scratches her under her chin. The dog has a black nose, soft brown eyes and perky ears.

[ela-meadows]

Visit Original Link

What Would Happen…?

What would happen if no one lied? If no one tried… To hide

What would happed if no one pretended? All problems mended… No one offended

What would happen if no one hid? If no one bid… Farewell

What would happen if no one ‘played’? If everyone stayed… Let bad memories fade

What would happen if Heaven came? Peace would rule again

Poem:

What would happen…?

What would happen if no one lied?If no one tried…To hide What would happed if no one pretended?All problems mended…No one offendedWhat would

Podcast:

https://app.aureal.one/episode/2089042

I decided to share this poem I wrote as a pre-teen as it has those classic, naive, optimistic vibes that played a significant role in my formative years. I wanted everyone to just get along and hadn’t experienced, or in many cases, hadn’t come to terms with the experiences that have slowly arranged themselves into the outlook and growing wisdom of my early middle age. When someone departed from my life I always leapt to the conclusion that I had done something wrong, or they never liked me in the first place. These concepts feature heavily in this short poem in wistful fantasies about peace ruling the earth if only no one lied, played games, or left others behind.

Image Description: A woman's left hand with bright blue nail polish and an solitaire engagement ring are held up to a blue sky with small, puffy white clouds.