Monday, October 19, 2015

Gray Heavy Things

I remember when words used to fall from my fingers like sparking jewels.
Or so it seemed at least.
Now they seem like great clunks of broken chunks of cement.
Thud, thud, thud.

I am the giant woman of heavy clumsy words, dropping them as I walk. They fall on the path and clutter the way of anyone coming behind me.

This is what it feels like today.

I wish I had the courage to go to Dog Island by myself, the way I used to, before all the bad things that happened to me there happened. Back when the wind whistling through the dunes and pines sang me to sleep and the sound of the waves lapping lulled me into peace and I could play with the words and walk for hours on the beach, in the woods, alone and find such perfection in that aloneness. Just me and the birds and the water and the light and the little cozy house that held me and amused me with its poltergeist, its lumpy couch, its fine-enough kitchen where I would slap out dough on the flour-covered counter just for fun, just for me, the sulfur-stinking shower, the pile of books beside my bed a promise of hours of pleasure.

I wish a lot of things.

Clunk, clunk, clunk.


  1. What holds you back from going to Dog Island?

  2. You may feel clumsy but the poetry is still there in your descriptions of it. I hope the gray and heavy feeling lifts soon.

  3. the last thing I would ever call your words is chunks of broken cement, Mary. They ARE still may not see or feel the shimmer at the moment. May the melancholy leave you as quickly as it descended upon you. It does find us all and we move through it the best we can and know in our hearts that it is fleeting
    Hugs to you
    Susan M

  4. The season is changing. That's always hard. I love you. Here's my hand.

  5. I hear you dear. Your words are never clunky . They are my daily comfort. Big love xxx

  6. Sometimes clunky feels just right. It's the heart behind it, I think anyway. And your heart shines through ALL of your words, no matter your mood. That last post about melancholy said it all.

  7. Sometimes sadness is just the state of things and as the weather changes so do our moods. But your writing? Never does it feel chunky or clunky. Your words are always perfectly descriptive and beautiful. I love you and hope the light shines for you soon.

  8. Even when you think you're not writing well, you're actually writing beautifully. I hope this feeling lifts soon! I don't remember you ever describing bad things happening to you at Dog Island...?

  9. oh ha ha ha Mary. I don't mean to minimize the way you feel but what you just wrote and what you think about it are about as diametrically opposed as two things can be. and not to ask you to dredge up more bad memories but I've never heard mention of bad things at Dog Island.


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.