not your problem

he is a problem
you cannot fix
a puzzle
you cannot solve
walk away, babe
walk away

so there is a serious decline in attention paid to me & my art & writings…which is kinda discouraging. hence my lack of color in this journal page.
luckily, my yogi tea keeps giving me support & love (i haven’t been drinking alcohol but have been drinking lots of tea–the yogi tea has little inspirational fortunes on every bag.)
i’m trying to stay motivated…but, then again, if no one is paying much attention to my obsessive journaling, maybe i need to start going in other directions. maybe i am stuck in a rut?
i am totally working on a novel. slowly.
& comics. slowly.
what else?
inkings with free verse (like my journal pages–but for sale!)

any suggestions? what do you all want to see from me?
xo

just peachy

stick your thumb through the squishy
meat
of a peach
all the way through
feel the hard scratchy pit
with all its nooks & crannies
that is my heart
all of it
the squishy overripe peach
you can smell from across the room
& the hard
edgy
pit
all of it
all of me.

true story. i am hoping to start sending out poems for possible publication. i really do not know if any of mine are any good. i have never considered myself a poet, and when i look through my journals, it all seems like i’m sniveling about me. does anyone really want to read it? is it helping anyone for me to air my dirty laundry so enthusiastically? i do wonder…. but i did like this one. i will keep playing with it & see if there is anything to it.

no matter

the world feels void of magic & nothing seems to
matter & i am fairly certain i am doing everything
wrong. motherhood is an experiment in futility; my
manifesto a blank page forever unread. i let the
darkness envelop me knowing it won’t be forever. i
watch the pieces of my soul fly from tree to tree &
part of me wishes all of me were crows on the wind
but then i remind myself, “i still have work to do.”

okay. so at this point i have spun out to the degree that i am no longer thinking in free verse but more in a prose style. string of consciousness as social anxiety and motherhood and depression and lonely and self-loathing wrap me up in a blanket and toss me down the stairs.
watch me fly.

happy valentine’s day from an ice monkey

confusion is nothing new

teeth & gums & nakedness
nothing new
a series of dreams
that never come true
but can i really say
i never get what
i want
when wants change
& needs are undecipherable?
needs
i would like to get
what i need
teeth & gums & nakedness
men following men
through my room
moonlight
sunlight
lamplight
condom wrappers
& nothing fulfilled
but i got
what i wanted
for 30 seconds
teeth & gums & nakedness

yes. my name is “mary jo” & yes. i was a pretty promiscuous 24 year old once.
this is my favorite poem that i have ever written.
it was written after a busy summer in ’94 that began with my breaking up with the love of my life and ended with my reuniting with the love of my life after a bunch of indiscretions.
then i went away (with him) to an all girl school in roanoke, va (hollins university) where i workshopped my poem as well as classics such as “bukowski’s undertow” & “tiny tortures in this hyperactive ghost town” which can be seen in comic form in my newly published book confusion perfume & other neurotic comics.

in other news–i made so many valentine’s this year, y’all! i like to reclaim valentine’s day as a day of love & not necessarily romance. and i am so full of love. ink covered love.

ps. happy year of the (big blue) ox!

pps. my scanner finally gave up it’s ghost, hence the buttload of blurry photos. i did invest in a new scanner that should be here soon. buy a copy of my book to help me pay for that!!

Now Available from Indie Blu(e) Publishing: As the World Burns: Writers and Artists Reflect on a World Gone Mad — Brave & Reckless

Indie Blu(e) Publishing is thrilled to announce that As the World Burns: Writers and Artists Reflect on a World Gone Mad in now available on Amazon in both print and Kindle versions.

Now Available from Indie Blu(e) Publishing: As the World Burns: Writers and Artists Reflect on a World Gone Mad — Brave & Reckless

here is an anthology that includes some pieces from me on my feelings about the current state of the world…check it out

xo

a bit of green

they erupt after you have give up hope
just staring out
at the grey slush…
&
wait!
there is something green!
the greys, browns, & white
have dominated for so so long
ever since the twinkle lights were so
unceremoniously
packed away
& you were beginning to think
life was a colorless
thing
mostly colorless
(no offense to the greys, browns, & white)
but, c’mon
for being the shortest calendar month
february can go on for a really
really
fucking long time
so
whether a squirrel moved it there
or it’s a forgotten hopeful thing you planted
green is now inching its way
out of the mushy brown
&
wait!
doesn’t that kind of describe
you
the way you
feel
as well?

it’s out of season, but this was a writing prompt given in the little group i am trying to get started.

obsolete

i
am
pointless
a redundancy
a misplaced narrative
that does not need
to be found
not really
just
let me gather dust
in a corner
forgotten
impotent
obsolete.

i have been super depressed the past few days. the world, of course, is a mess. i, of course, am a mess. my parenting skills are questionable. my relationship attempt with the ex crashed & left me heartbroken…again.
but i was so tired of myself
that i couldn’t even journal
so i just kept spiraling downward.
but!
i picked up my pen yesterday & managed to write these few words.
& that totally helped to exorcise demons & sweep away dark thoughts.

in related news, i am trying to start a creative group of people who can come together for support & encouragement. i got one text this morning after posting a classified on our little town’s local listings. yay! & i got support coming in from the community center i keep my freestore at (yes, my freestore is still a thing.)

moving forward, y’all. moving forward.
sometimes pretty fucking slowly, but moving forward nonetheless.

cut me down

like an apple tree dropping fruit
doing the math in its head
5 + 6 + 4 + 4….
like a walnut tree
chunking its nuts at the ground
chunk!
th-unk!
unsettling
setting off fear responses
fight or flight?
but the squirrels know what to do
they bury the nuts
for later
& if they forget?
the walnut tree renews itself
sending out a taproot
so deep
you can cut it down
but it will grow right back
i always grow back
i am resilient if nothing else
i am that
he cuts me down
over & over again
but i grow back
every
time.

i have been working on fiction stories for my next collection (without having properly finished my first collection.) & wondering about starting a writing group….
i wrote this in my journal as i sat enjoying an autumn day.
but it works as free verse too.
& it’s a true story.

some assembly required

if i move
away
from myself
up a little
spinning
off
from the trap
of humanity
what do i see
who am i
what is it
all
about?

here is another pen drawing done on a hot summer night. i have been paying attention to my color use. i definitely am using more “hot” colors since summer came compared to the cooler colors of spring.
i don’t do it on purpose…it just happens that way.

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