pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Tag: Life changes

DETACHED and EMERGING (2 in Sijo)

Painting by Deanna Marie Metts

DETACHED (sijo)

Member of Mensa Foundation. Former business owner,
Now mindful only that this actual moment in time
Is dreadfully not as real as yesterday’s tomorrows.

© Marie Elena Good 2014

EMERGING (sijo)

Weeding worry stubbornly seized in depths of clay soil perdition.
Bleeding time. Believing her beseeching isn’t reaching the Ear.
Then, breakthroughs and dream-come-trues. Not of fantasy, but of being.

© Marie Elena Good 2024

I wrote Detached in 2014 about my mentally ill daughter. Emerging, written now exactly ten years later. Though she still struggles, the difference is immense. There is so much for which to be thankful!

REDUCED

She drips eloquence,
but her needs, desires, and core
are not free to speak.

© Marie Elena Good, 2022

#seventeenintwentytwo

AWAITING WATERSHEDS 

80679888_1784613875003854_6616101389514833920_o

Photo by Keith R. Good

Every crisis in my life
has left expected tinges
I wish were erasable,
but also unforeseen traces
of the embraceable.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

PANDEMIC

82783750_2762006563820725_9184896727679762432_o

Imprint in Concrete photo by Keith R. Good

We’re navigating
necessary conversions
to our way of life.

Maybe we’ve traded
trite for substance.  And maybe
we can keep the change.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

 

LOCKED

6ba622ae-d77e-43e5-b8d2-e70465bda2dc

“Pandora’s Box”  prompt and photo, provided by  Walter Wojtanik of Poetic Bloomings

 Out of fear
(or worse  —  indifference)
she waited too long
to unlock the trunk she daily
(habitually)
avoided. Tripped over. Pretended wasn’t there.

Summoning the courage, she unlocked it.
Discovered a long-lost page.
Dulled.  Faded. Not easily read.
Less easily understood.

For times had changed,
and, therefore,
the truths that had shaped them.

Right?

As she tried to examine
and understand,
she began to question

everything.

Perhaps wrong paths had been taken.
Destructive habits had formed.

Perhaps what was true, then,
was no less true, now.

Perhaps times change,
but truths remain.

Perhaps it was up to her
to unlock

release

embrace.

© Marie Elena Good, 2018

CURRENT

sunset-690333_1280

Her toes, tanned,
saunter in sand
as sun wanes.

She remains,
steeped in still
-nes’tled blush of dusk.
Settled.  Hushed.

Moon taunts her,
fetching her heart –
sketching shore shadows –
stretching  fern and frond
beyond her vision.

And far beyond
her once-upon-a-sand
box.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2018

St. Thomas Island’s Caret Bay (“Someday” Comes – a Roundelay)

31301750_1899354237021494_1560709566822350848_n

Exploring life on new frontiers,
Today my luvs move far away.
Our seasons come in waves and tiers
As drizzle falls from sky of gray
I hug them tight, yet curb my tears.
I have to hold my heart at Bay.

Our seasons come in waves and tiers.
As drizzle falls from sky of gray.
Attentive to the fleeting years,
I want for them sun’s ray. Son’s ray.
I hug them tight, yet curb my tears.
I have to hold my heart at Bay.

Acquainted with life’s fleeting years,
I want for them sun’s ray. Son’s ray.
May God’s vast grasp be crystal clear,
And richly sensed on Caret Bay.
I hug them tight, yet curb my tears.
I have to hold my heart at Bay.

May God’s vast grasp be crystal clear,
And richly sensed on Caret Bay.
Goodbyes are said, and it appears
The time is now, and not “someday.”
I hug them tight, yet curb my tears.
I have to hold my heart at Bay.

© Marie Elena Good, 2018