The A Mused Poetry Contest 1/9/2021 – 2/6/2021 (AKA 9/1/21-6/2/21)

Life’s not been great for quite a few humans recently, myself included. If I were a mature, serene type, I’d likely suggest a mature, serene acceptance and a moving forward with healing. …I’m not really that type, though, so this month’s theme is:

  1. Snarky Rant. That’s right: a jaded, sarcastic, fed up, perhaps even nihilistic poem in an “I stick it to you, sucky events!” manner.
  2. The Length is your call. This is something you get to call the shots on, after all!
  3. Rhyming is also up to you.
  4. The Rating’s still PGish to keep general audiences happy, but there are always asterisks or near-fudges for situations like this.
  5. Despite the he** you may have endured, make us laugh. As we lay, prone, in the minefield of calamities, help us hold our bruised ribs in a knowing and painful release of the bad times we all relate to.

You have till 10:00 a.m. MST next MONTH (February 6) to submit a poem.

Use the form, below, to remain anonymous until results are posted.

Otherwise, include your poem or a link to it in the comments. Let me know if your linkback does not show up because WordPress is having issues with that.

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Enjoy.

Photo by Joshua Mcknight from Pexels

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©2021 Chel Owens

Light THIS Candle, Bub

So… September is Suicide Prevention Month. I’ve read a few hundred posts about it, due to my connection with the mental illness community. Instead of feeling inspired to ‘make people aware,’ however, I’ve become downright ticked off.

What are we hoping to accomplish?

Why, we want fewer people killing themselves, obviously.

OBVIOUSLY? I think you’re missing an ‘LI’ in that word. The correct term is OBLIVIOUSLY.

Granted, I’m not suicidal. I have not been, technically, since I have not sat upon a bridge or held a bottle of pills or even touched a razor to my skin without intending to use it to remove body hair.

I have stood at the top of the stairs, the edge of a parking structure, and the balcony of a massive performing hall -and sensed the sweet boundary of vertigo gravity beckons with. I’ve thought the question. I have wanted an end.

Dark thoughts for a Sunday? They won’t be eliminated by a candle, that’s for sure.

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Perhaps the tiny flickering glow in a few windows or on a few websites will warm others’ hearts, but that sort of ‘support’ has the opposite effect on me. Given that my depressive mindset is echoed by nearly every mental illness sufferer with Depression I’ve read, I feel confident setting down my little soapbox and ranting.

For example, a Facebook acquaintance of mine posted a very moving message regarding suicide. S/he admitted to having clinical depression and attempting suicide and how s/he felt about life sometimes. Writhing a bit in envy I read her/his 50+ comments of We love you, Thank you for sharing; you are brave, and You’re such a great person so don’t feel this way.

Internet hugs.

I’m sure a few people also managed to send out a text. You know: Saw on FB you’re sad. 😦 LMK if I can do anything. *Hugs*

After envy, I felt mad.

Want to prevent suicide, people? For real? Not just say or write so but feel and love so? Get away from your phone or keyboard and connect with people. Pull your head out of your apps and talk to a human -especially if that human has displayed signs of depression and/or suicidal desires.

Not sure what those signs are?

  1. Negative perspective to the point of poor self-esteem and a terrible outlook.
  2. Loss of interest in activities or life in general.
  3. Irritability.
  4. Extreme fatigue and lack of motivation.
  5. Over- or undereating.
  6. Insomnia. This may exhibit in late-night social media messages.
  7. Withdrawal. If a person stops writing online, doesn’t answer texts, or has literally said, “Goodbye,” alarm bells ought to be going off.

Maybe you feel like you can’t do everything for everyone and the candle-lighting will give you that small “I did what I could” pat on the back. I can relate; I feel overwhelmed by the amount of work life already takes, plus I’m depressed and can barely see outside the walls of my own house some days.

Still, we can do little things.

Try a vocal phone chat instead of a text. Run a store-bought cookie over to your friend and sit down and have a conversation. Pause for longer than a, “Fine,” when passing on the street and listen to a person’s day. Put your phone down, make eye contact, and act like you care. For bonus points, invite a neighbor out to lunch and a good visit. Heck, even hand-write a note (you know, with pen and paper, maybe even inside an envelope) and mail it to them if you can’t get to them easily.

A little thing may actually save a life. And that’s our goal.

If you, yourself, are considering the pull of gravity on the edge of life and can’t possibly talk to your family and friends, use the hotline (1-800-273-TALK). Heck, there’s even a text line if you’re too shy to talk (text NAMI to 741-741). They’re nice people. They care. They’re safe.