Mostly Grateful

 

Base photo by Yours Truly

amazed I'm still here

loneliness and chronic pain

mostly feel grateful

notes

This Haiga was inspired by an older prompt from the Carpe Diem Haiku site.

https://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.com/2012/10/carpe-diem-preview-3.html

The photo in the base image was taken by me, probably in 2021. My iPhone died in July 2020 and I got a Samsung Galaxy 10, which had a better camera but was a really shitty device. I replaced it with my current Galaxy 21 at the end of 2021, which is a much better device.

Anyway, both the base image and the altered image are my work. If you wish to use the base image or share the Haiga, feel free to do so, but please credit Cara Hartley/Ornery Owl. A link back to this blog would also be appreciated.

I prefer to let my Haiga speak for themselves, but I want to make it clear that I'm not engaging in toxic positivity when I mention being mostly grateful. I used to wonder why those "have an attitude of gratitude" mantras just made me feel worse about things. The reason is because that approach makes a person feel bad for not feeling good.

I don't feel good all the time. Some days are better than others, but it would be a stretch to say I ever feel good. I'm fortunate that my pain levels are mild to moderate. After injuring the median nerve in my left arm at the end of 2017, I endured six weeks of chronic severe pain. 

The only way I could obtain relief was by lying on the arm to make the nerve go to sleep. I couldn't sit up for more than 45 minutes before the pain became intolerable. It was hard to think clearly. The only reason I didn't seriously consider taking myself out was because I was hopeful that physical therapy would help. 

It would have helped sooner if I hadn't had to wait three weeks for Medicaid to kick in. I make no apologies for believing the United States needs a Medicaid/Medicare For All system. There have been many times in my life when I went without care because I couldn't afford it.

My default is chronic widespread mild to moderate pain, which I suppose is connected to my dysfunctional endocrine system because it started after my thyroid decided to immolate itself when I was in my early teens. People with chronic low-grade pain tend to feel tired all the time. NSAIDs don't touch this kind of pain and opiates would be overkill. I get some relief from CBD oil.

What I mean when I say I'm mostly grateful to still be here is I was extremely self-destructive when I was younger because I truly thought I was the most fatally flawed fuckup ever to exist, courtesy of complex PTSD. I spent most of my life feeling this way. Not to put too fine a point on it, but fuck everyone who contributed to my feeling this way. Fuck all of you sideways. I didn't deserve what you did to me. I'll never understand why you did it.

I'm mostly grateful to still be here because I still have a lot of shit left to do. If nothing else, I feel it's my sworn duty to my fellow freaks to stick around and piss off the pretty people with shitty attitudes who think it's fun to use those of us who are socially awkward and/or not conventionally attractive as their punching bags.

 Also, fuck you to every guy out there who ever dared one of his friends to get with the "ugly girl" or who took his friend up on such a dare. I've never trusted any asshole who told me I was "pretty." I always knew they were up to something, and I don't mean they wanted to get into something good. None of these guys thought I was any good. I know for a fact they were no good.

I'm not grateful to the god of any church for saving me. I ceased being a theist years ago. I'm an agnostic deist. I believe in at least the possibility of a higher power. I don't believe it involves itself with earthly affairs. 

If this higher power was responsible for spawning my soul, sometimes I'm grateful for that. Other times I wish it had gotten distracted by a squirrel or a supernova or whatever might distract a cosmic force and forgotten it was going to create me. Then again, that's probably why I'm half-baked. The creator got distracted and forgot to add some necessary components that would have made me more palatable to my fellow travelers on this planet.

Then again, I think most people suck and I'm glad I'm not like them. A lot of people look for any excuse to be nasty in order to make themselves feel superior.

So, yeah, mostly I'm grateful to still be here despite my many attempts to slowly (or quickly) kill myself with risky behaviors and substance abuse, but some days are better than others. Sometimes I wish an asteroid would hit me and sometimes when I wake up I wish I hadn't. 

I'm not done telling my stories yet, so, mostly I'm grateful to be here. Even though I'm broken, I'm lonely and misunderstood, and I'm in pain most of the time. Actually, I'm in pain all the time but sometimes I'm not as aware of it.

This is my reality and my life. I don't apologize for it.

Also, fuck toxic positivity. It's a damn pack of lies.

Ornery Owl Has Fucking Spoken

Image by Ria Sopala from Pixabay

Let your old pal Ornery Owl tell y'all a little story, Kiddies.

https://odysee.com/@deepprogresivehouse:4/432Hz-Lounge--Downbeat-Music-Mix-By-Sinan-Mercenk:8?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

Soul Ink is Here #8Sunday #SnipSun

 

Genre: Poetry

Heat Level: Poetic

ASIN: ‎ B0C481638W 

   

Publisher: ‎ Dragon Soul Press; 1st edition (June 23, 2023)

Publication date: ‎ June 23, 2023

Buy Link

https://amzn.to/3CL4fs5

Price

$1.99 ebook

$19.99 paperback

Blurb

Poetry; a unique and beautiful way to express feelings and ideas. Weaving words into perfect poetic prose, these authors remind you of your childhood, bring comfort from the hardships of life, fiercely spur emotions, and tell tales of old. All lovers of poetry will find a favorite here!

Featuring poetry by the following authors: John Grey, Kellee Kranendonk, J.E. Feldman, Debbie Hadow, Nina Padolf, Dibyasree Nandy, Brianna Witte, Nnadi Samuel, Rhiannon Bird, Sunayna Pal, Christopher R. Muscato, Vanessa Bane, Edward Cody Huddleston, Prathyush Devadas, Ed Ahern, and Cara Hartley.

Selection

Dreams of Disaster

What do dreams of disaster mean?

Can chaotic nightmares compare

To a true emergency scene?

What do dreams of disaster mean?

What knowledge can we from them glean

When studying them if we dare?

What do dreams of disaster mean?

Can chaotic nightmares compare?

Notes

This poem was included in the recently published Soul Ink anthology along with twenty-four more of my poems and works by other poets. The ebook is only $1.99, which is a lot of poetry for a little money!

I have recurring nightmares about disasters. Tornadoes top the list, but nuclear strikes are far from unheard of, and volcanoes sometimes show up at the party. Floods are, surprisingly, less frequent. I've written about my experiences with my car being hit by a wave of water during a flood. Perhaps I've repressed that memory, or at least the feelings that go along with it, because I don't enjoy having panic attacks.

https://poetryofthenetherworld.blogspot.com/2022/04/a-hard-rain-in-boulder-colorado-wep.html

I imagine I had one of my tornado dreams before writing this poem.

Another greatest hit involves driving down a steep road with soft brakes. 

Also topping the charts is driving into the mountains and coming to a chasm, which I proceed to somehow carry my car across. While this dream might sound triumphant, it is actually extremely nerve-wracking. 

Another banger involves finding myself parked beneath an underpass in a seedy part of town. 

Yet another all-time favorite involves being in an underground spa and trying to find a vacant stall in the locker/shower room with a door or curtain so I can have some privacy while doing the necessary. Most of the stalls don't have doors. There are usually only women in this area, but sometimes there are men as well because why not up the discomfort ante, I guess.

Bathroom dreams have only one true meaning:

The sleeping person needs to do their business.

I get that part, but why does my subconscious always create a poorly lit spa/changing room setting with pipes running everywhere? 

In any case, I am sharing this with multiple blog hops. I'm currently working to finish a story that has been giving me fits so I can submit it to Dragon Soul Press for potential inclusion in their Beautiful Darkness 2 anthology.

https://dragonsoulpress.com/shortstorycalls/

My PTSD has also been really extra this month. I've finally found someone I think I can work with on the many years of awfulness that I've shoved down into the recesses of my mind. For some reason, my recent dentist's appointment brought a whole bunch of crap to the surface. I need to go back in four days and try again because I wasn't able to go through with the procedure. So, I'm kind of a wreck and need to do what's easiest. I hope you can understand.

~Ornery Owl Has Waxed Poetic and Flashed Back~

Image by Ulrich B. from Pixabay

Hop On!

https://www.facebook.com/groups/401643826588474

http://wewriwa.blogspot.com/

Would you like to know what I was listening to while I wrote this? Of course you would! Only the best Krautrock will do, Baby!

https://odysee.com/@TerminalPassage:c/richard-wahnfried-%E2%80%93-tonwelle-%281981%29:5?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

Our Responsibility

 

Photo by Cara Hartley/Ornery Owl

Taken at the Denver Aquarium on May 7, 2017

Text art and design elements added by the photographer (me) using pixlr.com

You are welcome to use either image, but please credit me.

compassion, respect

our responsibility

to nature's creatures

Notes

Today's prompt word: Responsibility

https://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.com/2012/10/carpe-diem-3-responsibility.html

Now that April, AKA Hell Month is over, one of my goals is to get back to sharing weekly Haigas. I finally have a cohesive idea about the project I want to create using the photos I took on my son's 27th birthday and Mother's Day 2017.

My son will be 33 in 7 days.

Time management is something I've always struggled with. Time management can be difficult for anyone, but I think it is a particularly difficult skill for people with ADHD. 

I'm a prime example of what happens when you have a kid with ADHD who, rather than being taught skills for dealing with the way their brain works, is constantly scolded and admonished to "do better." What you end up with is an adult with ADHD who is filled with anxiety and self-loathing and who has a pattern of taking on too much, then crashing from exhaustion. Rinse and repeat.

I learned some hard lessons in April about taking on too many projects, an issue about which you'd think I'd know better by now, considering the fact that I'm almost 60 years old. I have problems with trying to do five times as much as other people to prove that I'm half as good.

The good news is, I had twenty-five poems and a novelette accepted for inclusion in two forthcoming anthologies from Dragon Soul Press. The poems will appear in Soul Ink and the novelette will be published in Pirate's Gold.

https://dragonsoulpress.com/

The bad part is there were literally times I thought I was dying because my anxiety was so pronounced. If I'd only been working on the two aforementioned projects, it wouldn't have been that bad. However, I was also working on two others. I ended up shelving one of these early on and I found out the deadline on the other one was June 1 rather than May 1. Plus I waited till the last minute to finish my taxes like an idiot and I had a selective laser trabeculoplasty procedure done on my left eye. Note to self, do not schedule elective procedures in April.

Despite being approximately as popular as trouser crabs, I do serve several necessary functions for my household, so while most people would likely cheer upon learning of my demise, it would be best for the person I care most about in the world if I remained active for a while longer. I have several serious health issues, so I have to take care of my fool self even if I'm not particularly fond of myself.

~Ornery Owl is Outstanding in Her Field~

Image by Pexels from Pixabay

Sharing With:

https://magicalmysticalteacher.wordpress.com/

http://corazon.typepad.com

https://viewingnaturewitheileen.blogspot.com/

https://magicalmysticalteacher.wordpress.com/

http://myjustsostory.blogspot.com

Poetry Prompts and Inspiration Day 23 April PAD Challenge and NaPoWriMo 2023

 

Image by John Hain from Pixabay

I guess you can see where my mind and heart are at today. Never mind, I'm pretty sure no fucks are given. Let's get to the poetry prompts.

https://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-three-9/

Today's prompt asks participants to:

Start off by reading Arvind Krishna Mehrotra’s “Lockdown Garden.” 

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/154207/lockdown-garden

Now, try to write a poem of your own that has multiple numbered sections.

I have been putting off the Day 21 prompt from the April PAD Challenge requesting a six-word poem. 

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2023-april-pad-challenge-day-21

In case I never write a six-word poem, I have written a six-verse poem that contains words.

Attempt to have each section be in dialogue with the others, like a song where a different person sings each verse, giving a different point of view. 

I did that...sort of. I don't think anyone would want to sing what I wrote.

Set the poem in a specific place that you used to spend a lot of time in, but don’t spend time in anymore.

I didn't do that. The poem was in my head, a place where I probably spend too much time.

Yesterday's April PAD Challenge prompt asks participants to write a What Blank poem.

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2023-april-pad-challenge-day-22

The title of my poem is What Is My Destiny?

Today's April PAD Challenge poem asks participants to write a fear poem.

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2023-april-pad-challenge-day-23

Sadly, fear is an emotion I am all too acquainted with.

That's all for today. I need to get out of the gloomy part of my brain and find the innovative storytelling part. This shit is getting depressing.

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~

Image by danny moore from Pixabay

https://odysee.com/@TerminalPassage:c/nobu-caine-%E2%80%93-nobu-caine-%281989%29:9?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

Some great jazz from Japan.

Poetry Prompts and Inspiration April PAD Challenge and NaPoWriMo Day 21

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

https://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-one-8/

Today's prompt from NaPoWriMo asks participants to read Sarah Gambito’s poem “Grace," then choose a word from their list of abstract nouns to use as their poem's title. They also suggest including at least one invented word. I invented two words, because I'm an overachiever like that.

I chose one of the nouns for the title, then used all of them in my short, sharp, choppy poem about, you guessed it, anxiety. Because my anxiety has damn near done me in this month. 

I opted to leave the April PAD Challenge prompt for another day because it asks participants to write a six-word poem. The NaPoWriMo list by itself contained more than six words.

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~

Image by Kevin from Pixabay

https://odysee.com/@TerminalPassage:c/triumvirat-%E2%80%93-mediterranean-tales:c?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

I hope you enjoy this German prog rock from 1977. I also find it makes a great soundtrack for writing my epic novella about Captain Sammy's treasure.

Poetry Prompts and Inspiration Day 20 April PAD Challenge and NaPoWriMo 2023

 

Image by Markéta Boušková from Pixabay

Good day or whatever. Let's jump right into it. 

Today's April PAD Challenge prompt asks participants to write an animal poem.

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2023-april-pad-challenge-day-20

Today's NaPoWriMo prompt is an interesting one.

https://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-10/

Have you ever heard someone wonder what future archaeologists, whether human or from alien civilization, will make of us? Today, I’d like to challenge you to answer that question in poetic form, exploring a particular object or place from the point of view of some far-off, future scientist.

I didn't write a poem about a literal animal. I postulated about what scientists from a far-off world who come to study the dying Earth might think about all the pills we took to combat our mental health problems. The title of my poem is A Beast Called Anxiety.

For the record, I don't take any psych meds. Not because I don't have psychological issues. I clearly have those aplenty. Not because I think myself superior to people who do take psych meds. I don't take them for one simple reason. For me, the "cure" is worse than the problem. My body doesn't tolerate them.

Here is a nifty resource that I use to come up with things like alien scientist and fantasy planet names. It's a real lifesaver.

https://www.fantasynamegenerators.com/

That's about all for now. I'm still dealing with a mess surrounding my thyroid medication and miscommunication. The guy that's potentially supposed to replace our furnace hasn't called me back either. I'm trying not to let the beast Anxiety defeat me. 

From my current vantage point, I think Anxiety is probably the worst of my psychological problems. It fuels Depression because it makes me feel like a fuckup. I wonder what I could have been without anxiety, but sometimes I fear I might have been really shallow and vain because of my insecurity about my physical appearance. It's pretty much a no-win situation.

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~

Image by Loyloy Thal from Pixabay

https://odysee.com/@TerminalPassage:c/gomorrha-%E2%80%93-i-turned-to-see-whose-voice:6?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

I was listening to this hard-hitting Krautrock by Gomorrha while creating this post.

November PAD Challenge 2022: Day 18: Imagining Machine

 

Image by Chen from Pixabay

imagination

cooking up the strangest scenes

a funny machine

~ornery owl has spoken~

Image by OpenClipart-Vectors from Pixabay

notes and prompts used

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2022-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-18

Write a funny poem.

https://imprompt.wordpress.com/2022/11/13/day-13/

Prompt: Imagining Machine

Also sharing with:

I was planning to share with Haiku My Heart, but the link-up for the 18th isn't ready yet. I want to steal...er...share a couple of verses shared by the blog mistress, Rebecca, on her entry for November 11th. 

https://corazon.typepad.com/recuerda_mi_corazon/2022/11/haiku-my-heart-1.html

"when it's all over, I want to say

all my life I was a bride married

to amazement.

I was a bridegroom,

taking the world into my arms."

mary oliver

https://earthweal.com/2022/11/18/earthweal-open-link-weekend-144/

https://www.facebook.com/groups/401643826588474

https://wewriwa.blogspot.com/2022/11/weekend-writing-warriors-8sunday-112022.html

I stuck a fork in this year's NaNoWriMo Rebellion project yesterday. I'm working on a new mental health/recovery project along the same lines called Remnants of a Year in the Life 2022: An Ornery Owl Diary. The book includes pages for readers to draw, write their own thoughts, whatever they need or want to do. I wrote nearly 3000 words on the project and created the following banner.

I started doing NaNoWriMo back in 2008. This is the first year that I came away from the project feeling like I had gained skills that are going to benefit me rather than thinking "well, thank fuck that's over, I don't know why I subjected myself to it." I hope I can take what I learned and use it to help others who may struggle with similar issues in their creative and personal lives.

I often ride myself about "getting nothing done" when I don't accomplish everything I hoped to in a given day. For instance, I did not end up working on my anthology submission or the Tales from the Dreamlands project today. I did not get any editing done. I've fallen behind in my blog hop participation...again...like always. The inner critic starts ripping me to shreds.

"Look at you. You can't do anything right. You'll always be a failure. How the hell hard is it to write a thousand words? How the hell long can it take to edit a chapter? You started writing a nine-word poem two hours ago. Nine words, you loser! How hard is it to publish THAT? Anybody can write nine words!"

Yeah, but hold on one damn minute, Ayce Hole. The poem was nine words, but the post total is closer to 500. I already wrote 3000 words today. I've spent around six hours writing and formatting. I may have issues with time management and with my mind wandering off in 666 directions at once, but you do not get to call me lazy. You abused me for closing in on 60 years, and I will no longer stand for it.

And that, my friends, is how you shut down your inner critic. It took me long enough to gain the confidence to stop listening to her lies, but now I slag her off every day. It's a good habit to have.

I think I've done enough damage around this pop stand today. I need to format this post to include in November Beginnings and Remnants of 2022 before sending it on its way.

Lest I forget, here is tonight's soundtrack.

Here's the link in case you can't see the player.

https://odysee.com/@GamingAmbience:6/mass-effect-le-noveria-rift-station:b?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

But wait, there's more!

Here's the link in case you can't see the player.

https://odysee.com/@GamingAmbience:6/mass-effect-le-noveria-rift-station-%281:9?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

November PAD Challenge 2022: Day 9: Life Under the Three of Swords

 

Image by Melissa G from Pixabay

My late father sometimes reminded me of a day when we traveled to the Happy Jack recreation area. My family lived in Laramie at the time. My father was attending the University of Wyoming and was also earning his keep as a teacher’s assistant. My father told me that I stood up on a ridge and shouted to the wind, “I’m happy!”

I may have been happy. I honestly don’t remember the incident or the place. I can recall moments from that year, 1968. I remember some of the dreams I had. I seemed to be nothing but trouble for my mother. I was an overly curious child who was always getting into things.

My lifetime has been spent beneath the shadow of the Three of Swords. To put this in poetic terms, I’ve always been melancholy in varying degrees. If I were to choose poetry to describe my life, the first poem I’d select would be Alone by Edgar Allan Poe. I was reading Poe’s works at six years old and I related to this poem. I also loved The Goblin Market by Christina Rossetti. What would it be like, I wondered, to have a sister who was such a dear friend that she would put herself in danger to rescue me from the goblins who were draining me of my joy?

I did not have a sister. I had friends here and there, now and then, but they always left. I loved creating, but it wouldn’t be until later in life that I reconciled myself to the fact that my stories were my constant companions. I was not destined to have lasting friendships or find happy ever after romantic love.

To put it in clinical terms (alas, how very dull!) I have always lived with varying degrees of depression. I’ve been told I should medicate away the Three of Swords. Attempts at doing so failed spectacularly. The Tower fractured beneath me, plunging me into madness.

I can exist beneath the shadow of the Three of Swords. When the swords increase to nine or ten, atmospheric conditions present danger not only to happiness but to my very corporeal existence.

directionless me

spinning twilight I wander

without any guide

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~

Image by 0fjd125gk87 from Pixabay

Some of us are destined to fly solo

prompts used

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2022/11/friday-writings-51-power-of-three.html

Prompt: The power of three. Any style, 369-word limit.

https://amanpan.blog/2022/11/08/moonwashed-musings-weekly-prompt-directionless-november-8-2022/

Prompt word: Directionless

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2022-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-9

For today's prompt, take the phrase "(blank) of the (blank)," replace the blanks with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem.

I changed it up a little, as the title of the poem is Life Under the Three of Swords rather than, say Life Of the Three of Swords. I'm not submitting this one to the chapbook of 20 poems that won't be selected anyway. A long Haibun like this one is much to prose-y to be the right kind of rosy for a chapbook bouquet.

It may seem odd for me to request this, but past experiences dictate that I must. For the love of all that is holy and otherwise, do NOT give me advice about "changing my meds." I don't take psych meds, see "the tower fractured beneath me and I plunged into madness. Similarly, don't suggest that I seek out such meds. See "the tower fractured beneath me and I plunged into madness." 

Also, do not suggest that I "seek counseling." I've done so in the past and it hasn't done much for me. Plus I now live in the middle of nowhere and, yeah, I'm not driving a hundred-mile round trip for something that probably won't do me any favors, thanks anyway.

This is a prose poem, not a request for someone to come fix or rescue me. I'm not a damsel in distress, I'm a hideous swamp witch (okay, prairie witch) who writes poetry. If you can't be dark, dramatic, and hyperbolic in your poetry, I probably don't want to read your poetry. See Alone, by Poe, Edgar Allan. That's my kind of poem!

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46477/alone-56d2265f2667d

Maybe I should try to revive my poetry channel on Odysee. Or maybe I've already got too much on my plate. Eh, I'm rambling now.

I actually do know how to have fun. For instance, this collection of olde tyme Halloween-themed songs is my bag.

Here's the link in case you can't see the player.

https://odysee.com/@thymeandplace:9/vintagehalloween1:5?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

November PAD Challenge 2022: Day 3: The Golden Apples Left to Rot

Image by jhenning from Pixabay

You encouraged me from an early age

To learn about so many things

You read to me about the golden apples of the sun

You'll be gone twelve years at the end of this month

But even if you were still here and still you

I could never ask

Because you would only say

That you were right

And I was misguided

That's the way it always was

No sense in denying it now

Why did you teach me

All of those wonderful things

And then try to turn me away from them?

Why did you tell me

I needed to get a practical job

As a secretary or a nurse

When time and time again

I proved to have no aptitude

For such professions

I spent most of my life

Believing I was broken

When maybe I just didn't fit

Where I was told I ought to

I was misguided

But maybe so were you

At least when it comes to this

You planted the seed of the golden apples in my mind

I will cultivate this orchard of my imagination now

While there's still a little time

I wish that you could see the results

Maybe you do

Maybe now you can understand me 

I wasn't like you

I couldn't be

I can only be like me

Is that really such a bad thing after all?

I will always love you, Dad

But the hurt of never knowing your approval

Never ends

Even now as I approach the twilight of my life

Your daughter,

Ornery Owl

Image by Willgard Krause from Pixabay

notes and prompts used

"The golden apples of the sun" is a line from the poem The Song of Wandering Aengus by William Butler Yeats.

https://poets.org/poem/song-wandering-aengus

It is also the title of a collection of stories by Ray Bradbury published in 1953.

My father was a professor of arts and humanities. I can remember him reading The Song of Wandering Aengus and The Tyger by William Blake.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43687/the-tyger

I learned how to read by the time I was four years old. My father wanted me to be a prodigy. I have no idea if I have the intellectual capacity for such. After all, I was labeled borderline retarded when I was eleven years old. 

I know for a fact that I don't have the patience to be a prodigy. I know now that I have ADHD, but that's a whole other story unto itself, so we'll save it for another time, possibly the same bat-channel, possibly not. It remains to be seen.

I always questioned how I could be retarded when I was reading and writing at an eighth grade level when I was in the fifth grade. However, I was terrible at anything beyond addition and subtraction, and I earned the borderline retarded label by spectacularly bombing on the Ravens IQ Assessment, which is based around pattern recognition. 

I also had some physical coordination problems courtesy of frequent ear infections in early childhood, and I had to use a special trick to determine left from right. I still use this trick at nearly 58 years old. Just last year, I added the Never Eat Shredded Wheat mnemonic to my arsenal, so I finally can work out direction. This is an excellent tool as I have no internal compass whatsoever.

When I was 23 years old, I learned that I was not retarded, I was somewhat dyslexic. That explained a lot, and it also made me want to go back in time and slap the school psychologist, the gym teacher who put me in the special gym class, and also my sixth-grade teacher. Granted, I already wanted to smack my sixth-grade teacher because he was an abusive asshole, but that's another story for another time.

As I moved into my teen years, my parents tried to push me in directions I wasn't interested in. I now understand some of their concerns, but they went about things the wrong way. Folks, if you try to browbeat a teenager into doing something, they will either push back and do the opposite of what you want, or they will comply and resent you. Neither of those is something you want, so here's what you need to do instead.

Many of us cursed by a love for artistic endeavors know how hard it is to make a living at our obsession. This is why those with a love for the arts should also be encouraged to learn a trade they can tolerate. It needs to be a trade of their choosing, not of yours.

I did a Book Blogger Hop post about a book called Reconfigurement. It was written to help older adults find a new career path, but many of the exercises can also help people of any age figure out what careers they might enjoy. You can read the post at the following link

https://ornerybookemporium.blogspot.com/2022/09/friday-book-blog-hop-reconfigurement.html

Or just head over to Amazon and check it out.

https://amzn.to/3KkbJFg

I will earn a small commission from Amazon for anything purchased through the above link.

And now, without further ado-doo, I will share the prompts that prompted me to create today's poem and post.

https://earthweal.com/2022/10/31/first-poems-door-to-the-wilder-eye/

The weekly challenge from Earthweal asks poets to "look back at our younger selves, back to the first poems that made us notice them, and see where they have taken us." Some of my earliest memories involve my father reading to me the poems mentioned above.

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2022-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-3

Today's prompt asks poets to craft a "misguided" poem. Some readers may think this entire post is misguided. You are within your rights to think that, just as I am within mine to give no fucks what anyone else thinks.

Image by Thomas from Pixabay

Critical Chicken is judging you