my would-be friend

missing my would-be friend…
an art journal page because i’m saddened by the death of a person i really would have liked to have taken the time to know better.
sadly, he committed suicide & all i am left with is regret…i wish i would have reached out to him & shared my own darkness with him so maybe he would not have felt so alone & so lost.

let’s all drink to the death of a turkey

my family lost a friend today.
he was the only livestock we did not sell when we left our illinois homestead.
a turkey named hamlet.
he survived three thanksgivings & died roaming free in the hills of wisconsin within warbling distance of his wild cousins.
he was a good turkey.
he will be missed.

(on a more personal note, hamlet was the only male in recent history to find me sexy…but that is a story for another day)

good night, sweet prince

my hardest day

the anti-versary of his death
is my hardest day every year
but it’s not
just
the void of losing
a big brother
it also happens to be the birthday
of the one who
tore out my heart
leaving it to dry
& wither
memories blowing past
like the leaves
dead
&
brown
my brother died…
you know how there comes that time
when you need someone more than ever
& they
fail you?
betray
you?
instead of holding you
& saying everything will be alright
they
take the opportunity
to hurt you even more?
true colors…right?
in the difficult times
we see their true colors
my brother died
on my husband’s birthday
& my husband
never forgave me for that.
so this day
every year
i mourn
the loss of my brother
&
the loss of the greatest love of my life
who
as it turns out
wasn’t so great…
but try telling my heart that.

the two things are hopelessly
interwoven
my brother’s death
my husband’s betrayal
i miss both of them many days
of the year
but this is by far
my hardest day.

the self-portrait above was done for an art class. the assignment was to do a pair of self-portraits (i think there is an art term for two pieces that are meant to be displayed together–who can remind me what that is?)
both of the self-portraits echo back to the last post i did “my m” in that they celebrate my brother’s & my love of movies and
terminator to be exact. with a good dose of catholicism.
here is my ode to sarah connor:

anti-versaries

ah crap. it’s september…such a wonderful month for fall smells & sights…and the anti-versary of
meeting my first big love/heartbreak/betrayal
marrying my first husband
& meeting my last big love/heartbreak/betrayal

no wonder i feel like a big bag of hopelessly crappy crap.

fuck you, september
(please stop being hot now & at least give me some 70 degree weather)

image from an art class…moses jones as an archangel, slaughtering dusy–or, you know, the devil.

heavy

when someone close to you
dies
it becomes part of your description
she has brown hair
a nice smile
and her brother is dead

birthdays are the hardest
his last one
I didn’t know
it was the last
his voice sad on the telephone
my pledge to keep in touch
this time

we live in a world
where I can obsessively search for
intimate details of his death
available in short video
burning plane
gray matter splattered on a playground
his last words, “oh, fuck.”

notorious IT guy for the other side
the Forrest Gump of stolen elections
everything reminds me
of him
the sound of a single engine plane
sad songs on the radio
politics, Christmastime, and charismatic men

I drink Irish whiskey this time of year
but it was Scotch at his wake
four years now
four years since the last election
four years since the plane crash
a conspiracy theorist’s wet dream
murder Republican style

when someone close to you
dies
do you let it redefine you?
hello, I’m Connell
a mama, a student, an artist
let me tell you
about my dead brother

(written in 2012)

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