And Then The Timeline Overlaps

Cross-post from My Substack:

i.

thirteen / sage advice to avoid thorny patches /
playing in mud fields / believing true love sprouts /
in between rough edges / palm tree sway /
conversations about hips / conversations about
catching up / they say / my body is rejecting becoming
a woman / having not yet bled

ii.

seventeen / wondering what it means /
to be made aware of / pieces of me /
shuddering / shamed / at the age of seven

iii.

twenty-one / being alone is heaven /
breathing again / in the absence of men /
women told me of wolves / I believed
them / I didn’t know / I was being beaten /
eaten / that my petals were muddied /
my knees / bloodied / I carried sin /
in my school bag / my secrets in
scrawled crayon / the truth / hidden from all /
in freshly stapled skin / I had a razor /
etching names / within

iv.

twenty-eight / little fish / can’t swim /
still gutted / splayed by familiar eyes /
small bones jutted / against /
adult sized jeans / being afraid /
that I was hurting him / the dust beneath /
him / scattered / shattered / for nearly
a decade / I couldn’t find me /
I still roam / collecting glass shards
of myself / keeping my fractured
heart on a shelf / echoes of crying /
ring from the closet / I hear them /
when I try sleeping / I pretend /
they don’t sound like me

From the Wanderer’s Log: This poem has completed its journey through the submission process and wasn’t able to land a home. I allow a poem to go through four or five submissions, sometimes more, before deciding to share it somewhere on my own. Some poems I share directly without submitting for publication. I don’t have a rhyme or reason as to which poems ‘make the cut’ and which ones don’t, I suppose I just stumble upon a publication open for submissions and think a piece might be a ‘good fit’. This poem is probably five years old now and represents a time in my life when I was reflecting on the past. I do this often. Lately I’ve been determined to be more present, but I cannot deny the past’s ability to shape my present. There is much to let go of in my past. There is much to heal from. When I find that past in my present moments I view it as an opportunity for said healing. Sometimes it’s simply the act of remembering that can unlock something within me that I feel very deeply will eventually influence my future. This may be Ojibwe teaching. We believe that every act in the present affects the seven generations both before us and behind us. Interesting to think about actions in the present affecting not only influencing the future, but also the past. Does this mean the past can change? I’m not sure since I find time confusing and many feel it is an illusion or construct anyway. What I do know is this, the past can be rewritten. The past can be rewired in a way where it might not hurt so much to reflect upon it in the present. Eventually, one can see what they learned from the past and can apply it to Now.

I will be traveling to my tribe’s Lac Courte Oreilles reservation sometime this weekend I believe. My cousin passed away suddenly and a lot of my family are heading up there to attend his funeral. We are waiting to hear when the exact day of his service will be. I will miss Besh Aanakwad so much and I still am having trouble processing that he’s no longer on the Earth plane. I know he’s with us all still. His Spirit will be able to teach us so much from his new perspective. I feel that. I dream that. I love that. I’m so thankful for the wisdom he shared with me here and look forward to all he will be able to share with me now.

Take care, fellow travelers. Hug your loved ones. Tell them how much you care for them. I’ll see you all very soon as I promised to start posting here more come Autumn.

Image by StockSnap from Pixabay

Published by Jennifer Patino

Poet in Michigan.

12 thoughts on “And Then The Timeline Overlaps

  1. Jennifer, my condolences on your family member passing on. Your poem is potent. Feels like snapshots that plug into a larger picture. I’ve given up on attaching anything to the outcome of meeting the judgeful gaze of acceptors and rejectors of my bloody ink. This part speaks to me:

    ” I carried sin /
    in my school bag / my secrets in
    scrawled crayon / the truth / hidden from all /”

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, Lisa ❤️🙏 It is still so much easier & faster just to share things myself so I understand. I get in the mood to submit things from time to time but thankfully I’m not attached to the outcome. I’m growing more impatient with the wait times these days though so I’m excited for the Substack switch. I’ll probably still cross post here even though my url will change for WordPress come April. I hope to post more consistently again too.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Wonderful, Jennifer, good to hear from you and so sorry for your loss. Your understanding of time is deep. I find that a fascinating part of your culture and think we could all use more examination of the effects of both past and future; even in writing I think we tend to see it in a selfish manner relating only to ourselves, which is normal, I suppose, but it’s so much more than that.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Hi Jennifer! I know you’re switching to another platform, and I know you’re primarily a poet, but I have a proposal for you. I want to put together a book of twelve new short stories from WordPress writers, to be published on WordPress. No money, no machines. Would you be interested in being a contributor? One new short story, written during NaNoWriMo, worked on as part of a small writer’s community. All of us would retain rights and publish simultaneously. No real theme that I can think of, just our own magic. Interested? Let me know! I’m still working on the logistics of how to keep it to ourselves while we’re working on it. I’d love to have you!

    Liked by 1 person

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