poetry • art • marriage • momhood • faith

deep and guttural, diffused —
a howl dampened by sagging clouds,
chilled by some october's waning gibbous
this is how I hate you
(sometimes)
though I tell myself and say
otherwise.

* * *

Don't worry, everything's fine. 🙂

4 Comments

  1. Chucka Stone Designs Chucka Stone Designs
    July 16, 2008    

    I return your hug right back (glad you included a “disclaimer” though). Sometimes we writers just need to work it out right? Regardless of the ferocity of the volatile emotion behind this it is visually just so beautifully written. I had to look up gibbous, had never heard that word before. It is perfect.

  2. artjewl artjewl
    July 17, 2008    

    Thanks, Jenn. You know how a while back I had said that I had managed to keep from associating any Mraz songs with anyone? well, somewhere along the way, I had inadvertently linked one to an apparently former friend. But I like the song enough to listen to it anyhow. But today, when it played at work, I got this flash of teeth-grinding angry frustration over this person.

    Anyhow, that’s where it came from.

    Glad you liked it… glad you got to give the dictionary a work out too. 😉

  3. zila zila
    July 18, 2008    

    :-Þ

    That is what I think of me getting an RSS feed for my journal. You must WORK to see the rantings of Zila!

    In all actuality, I’m just too lazy to do it. Sorry.

  4. Ginger Ginger
    July 19, 2008    

    i like the disclaimer too. this was pretty powerful and whenever i post something like that and don’t leave one someone always has to see if i need to be institutionalized or something.

    anger can be a powerfully creative tool, good job working it out, as jenn said.

    xoxo

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

torch bearing quietly

I will not act out, will not
yell or curse or slam doors,
will not make a scene -- you
do not deserve such a chance
to make an example out of me
to be proven right since you
are not. Instead, I'll stand
at this street corner, raise
my hand high and clench that
light which yet remains. It
will burn brightly, quietly,
fiercely before fading as I.

Then I'll be gone but found.

©JAC 2005

Poetry by Julie Ann Cook!

Order your copy of
Love Like Weeds
by Julie Ann Cook
through Main Street Rag Publishing Company.

Get E-Cheese

Enter your email address to subscribe to "Digging Cheese Out of Carpet" and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 145 other subscribers

Old Cheese