Tag Archives: mental health

Poetry, Writing

Skin Deep Disappointment

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(Poem 330 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/gmUzt6

My heart hurt with crushing disappointment
after the news of the election was released.
I felt sadness about the reality of the people
who would be affected by inhumane policies.

I have so much more to learn to be an ally
for those I love because it never occurred to me
to be afraid for my husband or granddaughter
whose skin is more melanated than mine.

Lying in bed, bemoaning the next four years,
my husband admitted to being nervous about
walking the dog the next morning because it
will be dark and racists might feel emboldened.

My breath caught to think a thought so horrible,
and realize those are the thoughts my husband
has grown up with, must live with, is burdened by,
and over half our nation is just fine with that.

@Home Studio on 12/4/24 @ 8:52pm – 330th poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

Toto

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(Poem 329 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

Like father like son

This little boy is a man now,
marrying a really lovely girl.
His dad’s a crier at weddings,
so I can only imagine the scene.

Dad’s Toto to his grandchildren,
spends time with each of them,
loves to play and be a kid
to the point that reality’s a blur.

I’m trying to meditate away
my anxiety about how he’ll
handle himself at the ceremony,
and then later when he gives a toast.

For his oldest baby’s sake,
I hope he can hold it together
and let the spotlight be on the bride
and groom, rather than his tears.

@Home Studio on 12/4/24 @ 8:19pm – 329th poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

Tornado Girl

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(Poem 328 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/18xmpI https://gencraft.ai/p/f9l3uc https://gencraft.ai/p/uAWdon

When stuff stirs sideways and begins to knot up
in that twisting way, my heart starts to beat
like thunder, hail pounding in my head
to the rhythm of chaotic swirling
pain that builds and swells
with groaning as I eat
houses and cars,
ripping peace
to slivered
shreds
.

@Home Studio – 328th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Tornado Girl photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

How to Eat a Pear?

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(Poem 327 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/fBHo2n https://gencraft.ai/p/Cjp59f https://gencraft.ai/p/nJgsxG

AI struggled with my prompt to generate an image of a woman eating a pear.

If only I could
figure out how
to get this pear
into my mouth.
The concept is beyond me.
Use of hand, teeth, tongue.
I may never get it down.

@Home Studio – 327th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Eating a Pear photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

I am that mother

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(Poem 326 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/dOImw2

I didn’t think I was that mother,
the one who cleans and cooks,
looks out the window every time
a car drives by or a tree branch
bends in a way that catches her eye
and repeatedly checks her phone
for updates on her son’s progress
since he’s driving cross country
heading south with her daughter-
in-law for their wedding ceremony
here in a Texan outdoor cathedral,
but apparently, I am that mother.

@Home Studio – 326th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Mother photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Remembering the LA Riots

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(Poem 325 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

https://images.app.goo.gl/ad5vYumSHMCCicpc8 https://images.app.goo.gl/2MqN2W9yJKyW7V76A

When the weight of oppression
and unbridled greed finally breaks
the backs of the camels of justice
the eruption of violence is a given.

What remains to be seen amidst
the mayhem and mortal carnage
is the expression of accountability
or even a hint of sympathetic remorse.

The powerful claim rule of order
a necessity to quell social unrest
and do nothing to address the underlying
rot at the base of the structure they built.

And the system continues to sink
into the sands of time burying
generations of hopefuls with the burden
of change and the whip of their bootstraps.

Rebekah Marshall @Home Studio on 11/22/24 @ 9:53pm – 325th poem of the year (While watching S.W.A.T. Season 4 Episode 1 Seventeen Year Olds that showed flashbacks to the Rodney King verdict of 1991 and the LA Riots of 1992. I was in college and remember the news coverage vividly.)

Poetry, Writing

Rock Climbing?

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(Poem 324 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/DjFo1A

AI is unsure why a woman
would attempt to climb
the side of a cliff,
but best efforts to produce
an image result in
laughable camera poses
much more leaning back
toward the chasm than anyone
would be comfortable with
hands in the air all willy-nilly
instead of clinging to protrusions
like her life depends on it
just hanging out in the air
without a care in the world
maybe she’ll get to the top
maybe not, who knows?

@Home Studio – 324th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Rock Climbing photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Libraries Still Exist

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(Poem 323 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/RQmMeJ

I was startled to discover
that libraries still exist
in this dystopian society
I’m learning to call home.

You might as well have
told me there are sunken
libraries for school of fish
to study up on plankton.

Or declare that libraries
have been installed in every
greenhouse to better teach
plants how to grow greener.

That people have a safe
place to read books for free
gives my heart hope
that all is not lost.

@Home Studio – 323rd poem of the year

Runner ups for the Libraries photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Friendsgiving

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(Poem 322 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

Photographs taken by Rebekah J. Marshall 11/17/24.

Friends gathered
around a table
sharing a meal
giving thanks for each other
and the chance to be together.
Laughter and stories
between bites
of chicken fried steak,
fried catfish, fried okra,
rosemary chicken Greek salad,
mashed potatoes,
mac & cheese, Caribbean rice,
candied yams, black-eyed peas,
and buttermilk pie.
Austin-style Southern cooking
is perfect for my first
ever Friendsgiving.

@Home Studio – 322nd poem of the year poem of the year (After lunch with Debbie, Celinda, Yulia, Jenni, and Paula.)

Runner ups for the Friendsgiving photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Tracker

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(Poem 321 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

https://images.app.goo.gl/XbwtxjNvg4LAak628

He calls
himself a rewardist
because everyone’s looking
for something,
and he knows
how to find
what’s missing.
Survival may be predicated
on who needs whom
the least,
but lone wolf strategies
are mythical,
aberrant, peculiar,
resulting in attachment
deficits.
Follow the signs,
recognize the strides,
read the scuff marks
and toe digs,
transfers and heel marks,
ignore false trails
and counter-tracking.
The desperate pleas
of loved ones offering reward
must believe
the ache of hope,
fear and adrenaline
will keep the living alive
long enough for the bruising
and crying to tell a story
that leads
to being found.

@Home Studio – 321st poem of the year (Watching the show Tracker on CBS.)

Winters, Ben, Tracker, Justin Hartley, Beekeeper Entertainment, 2024.