Skip to main content

THE AIR FINDS IT HARD TO BREATHE by Jenn Lui


“Poetry is what happens 
when nothing else can.” 
~Charles Bukowski~

In some of our darkest moments, that’s all we can do: Breathe and write. We can then regain our footing and become stronger through that experience. Even though we might be temporarily lost, we reconnect within ourselves by putting pen to paper and just breathing. Finding that inner sanctuary of stillness we can make ourselves whole once more.

This poem is one of those fleeting moments of darkness when poetry was what happened when nothing else could.
Photography by Brooke Shaden


The Air Finds It Hard To Breathe


Thick and arduous, my breath is stifled
I stop dead in my tracks and gasp for sustenance
My head spins and chest tightens.

I am doubting myself again, every last part
In this process I cut myself into little pieces
Putting it all under the microscope and peering through.

It all looks so ugly, isolated there in front of me
In the darkness I forget the beauty of the whole
This forgetting is a slippery slope and my light diminishes.

Tightness and panic, I struggle to inhale
My breathing quickens and my muscles tense up
I am here once again in desolate self-hesitation.

I discredit my achievements and victories
In this place they no longer hold meaning
The spotlight turns onto the failures and defeats.

I override my confidence and self-assurance
Degrading my self-worth, beauty seeps through my fingers
I am unable to get a hold onto anything.

My mind becomes the trickster, twisting and contorting
Every second takes me ten steps backwards
Revealing the transgressions behind the mask.

This colorless landscape terrifies me and I recoil
I know there is a better way, a happier path awaiting me
If I so choose to rise above the bleak and barren.

I take a breath, and slowly take another coming back into myself
I am so much more than my fears and wounds
In my arms I cradle all these broken pieces holding them tight.

Welcome to my curse, my moment of inner collapse
Restoring myself I fasten the parts together once more

Take another deep breath and turn the light back on.



Jenn Lui hails from a far and distant land impervious to the mundane and the conventional. Her eclectic interests always begin with an overwhelming curiosity, which catapults her into fanatical investigations and explorations. A lover of all creative mediums, she focuses most of her time on writing, painting/mixed media, yoga, meditation and picture taking. Jenn holds BAs in Psychology and Comparative Religion. She continuously thrives on furthering her understanding of the mind-body-spirit connection. With a penchant for all things beautifully extraordinary, Jenn recognizes the importance of honoring her shadow self, which in turn, creates a healthy respect for what lingers in its dark corners. Shamelessly wearing her heart on her sleeve, Jenn can typically be found with a book in hand, mala around her neck, and skipping to the beat of her own drum. Connect with Jenn on her blog'Perils of The Living', Facebook and Twitter.

~If you are interested in seeing your poetry appear in this blog, or submitting a poem by a woman that has inspired you, please click here for submission guidelines. I greatly look forward to hearing from you!~

Comments

  1. i agree ... writing has often been my salvation.
    this is profound and speaks of those dark whirlpools ... i will share this on my page on facebook [she who holds space] lovely. truly. thank you :) g

    ReplyDelete
  2. I know this moment...
    "I take a breath, and slowly take another coming back into myself
    I am so much more than my fears and wounds
    In my arms I cradle all these broken pieces holding them tight."
    ...and that place where breath and writing are the only response.

    You've captured it beautifully Jenn. Thank you...

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

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

THE JOURNEY by Mary Oliver

Today we honor Mary Oliver (1936-2019) and all the words she left behind. May they inspire you on your journey!  Excerpt from Mary Oliver’s book Long Life: Essays and Other Writings : "Poets must read and study... but, also, they must learn to tilt and whisper, shout, or dance, each in his or her own way, or we might just as well copy the old books. But, no, that would never do, for always the new self swimming around in the old world feels itself uniquely verbal.  And that is just the point: how the world, moist and bountiful, calls to each of us to make a new and serious response. That's the big question, the one the world throws at you every morning. 'Here you are, alive. Would you like to make a comment?'" The Journey By Mary Oliver  One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice-- though the whole house began to tremble and you felt the old tug

STILL I RISE by Maya Angelou

Six years ago, I had the privilege of listening to Maya Angelou speak live on the value of poetry at the University of Florida. I share these reflections with you again today, in honor of her birthday.  I was relieved to get one of the last seats available for this rare event, having arrived at five for Maya Angelou ’s free speech at eight. The historically long line began with people settled into beach chairs in winter coats busying themselves on tablets, or eating sandwiches for dinner. As helicopters hovered above and newscasters below, I felt the excitement of realizing that thousands of people were gathering together to hear an eighty four year old black woman recite her poetry! Maya Angelou speaking at University of Florida on Feb. 27, 2013  When the curtain rose -after an overflow of hundreds were sent away- we lucky ones on the inside greeted Maya with a standing ovation, as she smiled sweetly, beginning her talk using metaphors from nature. Maya asked that we