INVISIBLE OCTOPUS by Corina Duyn

Invisible Octopus

The reality of life

with the unpronounceable illness

Myalgic Encephalomyelitis

is hidden and fragile

M.E. as Invisible Octopus

acting as puppeteer

keeping me upright

or making me stumble at will

inflicting pain

challenging my brain

its crushing weight

taking my breath away

Rosie cheeks

looking well they say

summer is coming

happy thoughts will cure you

I live in a disbelieving world

my reality

trivialized

dismissed

My full time carers

witness Octopus’ destruction

for others I simply disappear

into the shadows

I am just one in this worldwide

community of hermits

where freedom of movement

is no longer a right

Transcending gravity

I fly among the birds

Their beauty and harmony

uplifting and strengthening

After a short flight

Octopus attacks

Pinning me down

immobilised

each moment is a death

Breathe

...

Each moment is a living

Finding peace in my solitude

I observe the dance of the trees

There is movement

in stillness

My creative mind

the visible thread

throughout this twenty-two-year long story

Transforming pain into poetry

~The ‘Invisible Octopus’ poem originally appeared here~

(Click the arrow to view Corina's award-winning shadow puppetry

art video-narrative of her poem)

Corina Duyn is a 58 year-old Dutch born artist, writer and puppet designer. She has lived in Ireland for the past thirty years. Her work is inspired by nature and reflects life with the disabling condition Myalgic Encephalomyelitis (ME) which changed her life 22 years ago. Words and images are her lifeline to connect with the world beyond the walls of her home. Her latest work ‘Invisible Octopus’ is a poem, a story, an animation of a life triumphant under the weight of illness. The poem has been translated into several languages; the Video-Poem selected for various film festivals, including the ‘International Poetry Film Festival’ 2021. You may learn more about Corina via her website here or Facebook page, Little Wings.

*For submission guidelines, click here.*

Comments

IMAGINE A WOMAN by Patricia Lynn Reilly

This poem invites you to look upon yourself with loving kindness… Gazing at your own true reflection, you will discover that everything you have longed for “out there” is already within you! I invite you to love your creativity fiercely. Faithfully plant seeds, allowing under-the-ground dormant seasons, nurturing your creative garden with love and gratitude. In the fullness of time, the green growing things thrust forth from the ground. It's a faithful, trustworthy process. AND it takes time and patience. Blessed is the fruit of your creative womb! I invite you to trust your vision of the world and express it. With wonder and delight, paint a picture, create a dance, write a book, and make up a song. To give expression to your creative impulses is as natural as your breathing. Create in your own language, imagery, and movement. Follow no script. Do not be limited by the customary way things have been expressed. Your creative intuition is original. Gather

IMBOLC by Caroline Mellor

The inspiration for this poem came after I watched a magical winter sunset and full moonrise from the top of Firle Beacon in the South Downs... Unusually for me, I wrote the poem quite quickly and changed it very little before publishing it – perhaps the energies were working through my pen! Imbolc is the mid-point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. It’s a fire festival which I particularly love because of its associations with Brigid, the Celtic Mother Goddess of arts and crafts, clear sight, healing, inspiration and nurturance of creative talents – something which, through my writing, I am always trying to connect with. I also love Imbolc because, with so much darkness and negativity in the world today, it is a time for hope, potential, visioning and initiation. With love and blessings as the light returns. Photography by Chanel Baran IMBOLC by Caroline Mellor I am the dream of awakening. I am the returning of the night. I am the tough green

WINTER SOLSTICE: A GIFT OF LOVE by Carolyn Riker

I’ve had several days now of alone time… It is unusual and a gift that I couldn’t see until I breathed it. I have been able to watch the sun’s rise through the grey of dawn and smile at the flickers of frost melting on the waving boughs of evergreen. It’s unique to follow daylight as it traverses the tempo of a cat’s soft slumbering purr. Night comes swifter and the glow of candles and the flames of fire comfort me more than the steady stream of always-doing-more. As much as I resisted, I needed this break. I had no idea how much my body was trying to tell me slow down until the exhaustion settled in around my joints. My eyes swam in molasses. Heaviness of I-can’t-hold-out-much-long, walked me to the throne of my nest. It’s winter’s gift of self-nurturing and love. It’s been a quiet proclamation of femininity and a need for comfort foods. Lemon crisps and cranberry, white-chocolate shortbread dipped in tea; I felt a hint of being pampered without

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