Poetry

The Ehlers Danlos Syndrome Dance – a poetry jam

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By: JANA GREENE

The foot bone’s connected to the leg bone,

but the joint in between them protests.

“Ankle here,” it says. “And I’m wobbly,

I think perhaps you should rest.”

But no time for that, I say, holding on to my cane.

The leg bone’s connected to the knee.

And to say it fairly,

those knees are barely

even attached to me.

The knee bone’s connected to the thigh bone,

and true, the bone won’t bend,

but where the thigh bone connects to the hip bone,

that socket pops out and back in.

The hipbone’s connected to the backbone

and they don’t really get along.

Where the backbone’s connected to the neck bone,

it doesn’t feel too strong.

And that neckbone connected to the head,

where all my worries are made,

If dem joints dem joints gonna walk around,

I’ll need a mobility aide.

So, strike a Gumby pose with me,

pop and crack in a stance,

for all the ableist world to see

your Ehlers Danlos Syndrome Dance!

Healing Arts Heal Hearts

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By: Jana Greene

Yesterday was ridiculous

So I gave in to capriciousness,

And spent the whole day in bed.

I had a party of the pity kind,

Got stuck in my own flitty mind,

Paralyzed by whatever lay ahead.

Today, self care will not look the same,

Instead of practicing that old self-blame,

I think I’ll channel worry into art.

It may not fix my woes

But it might lift my lows,

And give hope a boost in my heart.

Because life ain’t for the faint,

I use words and paint

To express what lies in my heart.

Because life is ridiculous

We must be meticulous

With caring for self though our art.

Poetry · Spiritual

Healing Arts Heal Hearts

Featured Jana Greene2 Comments

By: Jana Greene

Yesterday was ridiculous

So I gave in to capriciousness,

And spent the whole day in bed.

I had a party of the pity kind,

Got stuck in my own flitty mind,

Paralyzed by whatever lay ahead.

Today, self care will not look the same,

Instead of practicing that old self-blame,

I think I’ll channel worry into art.

It may not fix my woes

But it might lift my lows,

And give hope a boost in my heart.

Because life ain’t for the faint,

I use words and paint

To express what lies in my heart.

Because life is ridiculous

We must be meticulous

Caring for ourselves though our art.

Poetry · Spiritual

The Purpose and Pain – a Poem for the Struggling

Featured Jana Greene2 Comments

By: JANA GREENE

I have heard it said

that existence is pain,

and that the act of waking up

can be heroic.

Both are true, you see,

on this big blue marble

that we call home,

Wearing these Earth Suits,

prone to disease, disaster, dysfunction,

ill-fitting and troublesome,

here on our training ground.

Mostly things don’t add up,

or seem to have order,

or any logic at all.

So we wander like orphans,

feeling alone,

pain clutched to our chests,

tears in our eyes,

asking one another if anything

makes sense.

Everyone has a little of the Truth,

but no one earthly has it all.

So I clutch those truth bits

with white knuckles,

wondering if I have

any truth of my own to give.

“I can’t stand the pain!”

I yell to no one in particular,

and then to God himself.

I don’t know why in

that specific order,

just learning, I guess.

But learn I must because

here I am,

waking up anyway.

The Intelligence who

thought we were a good idea

has not changed his mind.

Somehow,

pain or no pain,

worldly understanding

notwithstanding,

God is spinning the planets,

and making eternity out of stars.

He reminds me,

(when I bother to really listen,)

that I am just as infinite as both.

My orbit is just a bit wobbly,

but maybe it’s part of the dance.

Maybe the wobbles

are where we learn.

So into the mystic I go,

using the pain to propel me,

as the stars give evidence,

of the vast scale of his love;

his vast love for me.

So you see,

we CAN do “this” again.

Just for today, until tomorrow,

when we get to choose

to do it again.

This day is made

not for the pain

but for us;

for rising again, not as orphans,

made of skin, bones,

and aches and pains,

but as Beloveds.

The Universe above

to watch over us,

The Universe below

to catch us in our unsteadiness,

The Universe beside us,

to walk out the pain in real time,

and best of all,

The Universe inside us, unsquelched,

in the ultimate cosmic camaraderie.

Spiritual

Sideways and Hand-in-Hand (“The Deconstruction Poem”)

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By: JANA GREENE

What do you do

when shit goes sideways,

and the framework you’ve built on

no longer rings true?

When the system collapses

and your faith simply lapses,

and there’s no man-made doctrine

to comfort you?

There are still two left standing

when your dogma’s disbanding,

when you’ve traded the book

for a soul-searching quest.

That presence you’ve craved

that you thought made you saved

is lovingly waiting

to give your soul rest.

Let go of the striving,

give in to arriving

to a place where acceptance

is given complete.

There’s black sheep in the flock,

but we stand on the Rock

that made the “letter-of-the-law”

obsolete.

Hand in hand, you and Source

make up quite a force,

the grace of God is

all you require.

When shit goes sideways,

as it does so nowadays,

hand-in-hand,

you’ll walk out of the fire.

Poetry · Spiritual

Keep Going (Anyway) – a little poetry jam

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By: JANA GREENE

You are loved,

I promise it’s true,

Even though the world

Keeps doling out anew

Difficult things,

The losses of man,

Just keep going,

I know you can.

Keep holding on

And I will too.

Hand in hand

We shall get through,

Together

And with Love as our Guide,

We’ll get through this season,

Me and you.

Spiritual

Walking Each Other Home

Featured Jana Greene4 Comments

By: JANA GREENE

I cannot stop

I will not stop

meeting new beautiful souls.

God shows them to me

he knows to show me

wherever I may roam.

I’m thankful ya’ll

to embrace them all

wherever I may go,

and as we travel

(and sometimes unravel)

We walk each other home.

Poetry · Spiritual

Undone

Featured Jana Greene2 Comments

By: JANA GREENE

She used to be such a “good” Christian,

Proverbs 31 to the core.

But then she listened to the voice

Who told her to want more.

“More of you, God!”

She would say.

“I’m striving hard, you see!”

“”Why are you striving

So hard, child,

Cannot you simply be?“

The war she fought within herself

Had already been won.

And when she finally

Understood,

She became undone.

“But I must be holy” she said.

And pleasing to your sight!”

“Have I not told you, child,

You’re already salt and light?

And do you not remember,

I’ve already

Won the fight?”

And in the end of warring,

She was learning just to be.

Slowly,

And with great surrender,

She realized she was free.

Poetry

How to Spend Time with God (spoiler alert: Just BE) – a little poetry jam

Featured Jana GreeneLeave a comment

By: JANA GREENE

“What’s the best way to spend time with God?”

Was the question asked of me.

Which seemed odd

Because my God

Is never an absentee.

I thought the right devotional,

Holy coffee at first morning light,

Following all the rules and laws,

Was a formula for winning the fight.

But now God and I,

Thick as thieves,

Do life together every day.

Every breath is spending time,

Plain speak is how I pray.

I hear his voice in the laughter

Of my beloved friends and kin,

I hear him in the cries,

Of suffering women and men.

He cooks with me in the kitchen,

He follows me to the shop,

We have constant conversations,

Impossible to stop.

A reverie of souls,

Because we’re ONE, you see.

I cannot be away from him,

And he won’t stay away from me.

I need no formal reason

To label time with my Source.

He’s in every place,

Runs every race,

By my side, of course.

Here’s how to spend time with God

If you’re asking me:

Take a deep and healing breath

And just manage to BE.

Poetry · Spiritual

Mystics, Sages (and a love for the Ages) – poetry

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This piece is a labor of love.
Life is so heavy right now. I choose to believe that God is up to his old tricks or radical grace and wonder. I just have to keep choosing that every day, sometimes moment by moment.

By: JANA GREENE

Give me the mystics,

The seekers,

The sages.

And as we study

our sacred pages

for wisdom to guide

our every foot-fall,

“Love one another” is

Most important is all.

Focus on each blessing,

Always favor light,

Keep sharing your heart,

And I’ll keep sharing mine.

Let us choose to believe

that in the end,

God is up to his radical

goodness again.

Love always swings harder,

Love conquers all,

Love comes in first.

And survives every fall.

So I stay Hopeful as a hippie,

in this war-torn place,

As open as a Book

About this deep and messy grace.

May the secrets

Of the enlightened wise,

Be generous

To our wondering eyes.

Let us dare to ask questions,

Beyond any fear.

So you say you have doubts?

Well, you’re welcome here!

Yes, give me the mystics,

The seekers the sages,

And they will direct you

To a Love for the ages.

A perfect love,

For all the ages.

Poetry · Spiritual

Reverence Remix (a poetry jam)

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By: JANA GREENE

Whisper in church, they say.

Be REVERENT in this place,

Shake the hands,

Bow your head,

Pull the mask over your face.

But to revere

Is not to fear,

And no walls contain it’s form.

We are never called to a stillness

To which we can’t conform.

I find that nature

Brings out the reverence in me.

The ocean a temple,

Living water in the seas.

Ebbing and flowing,

Aching with glory,

Nature is where

I write my life’s story.

Give me the forest,

Life pulsing with force,

Growth and blossoming

Running a perfect course.

Reverence is a deer

Pausing by a creek.

Reverence is found in every tear

Falling down a mourner’s cheek.

It’s a whole-body hug,

Hearts so close together,

Synching up a holy,

Hallowed and sacred tether.

Reverence is presence

Living in the now,

With no particular regard

For life’s when’s, why’s, and hows.

The Earth is sacrosanct,

Every inch sacred ground,

And there in that sweet majesty,

I find God all around.

Poetry · Spiritual

Ode to Jeggings

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By: JANA GREENE

And now to lighten things up a bit, a silly poem to cheer you. Blessed be!

Leggings, I’m so grateful
That someone saw fit to create you –
Love child of jeans and sweatpants
Oh how I appreciate you!
Thanks for your stretchy waistband
So I don’t have to suck It in,
Thank you for the mad skills you have
Of making me look thin.
You’re available at Walmart
For just eleven dollars,
And with you in every color,
I can feel like quite the baller.
I can wear you as pajamas,
I can wear you as yoga pants,
And if I were so inclined,
I could wear you to break dance.
You don’t smush my muffin top
Like jeans are apt to do,
But rather gently hug it,
(so damn merciful of you.)
Thanks for being comfy,
And having pockets in the rear,
And for being so soft and warm,
You’re my favorite pants to wear.

Jana Greene

Poetry

Wrinkles and Strength – a poem for midlife ladies

October 11, 2022October 11, 2022 Jana Greene6 Comments

By: JANA GREENE

Girl, you leave that neck alone,

Did somebody tell you

before you were grown,

That our necks get crepey when we’re older,

That we lose our shine,

That we lose our smolder?

Did they warn you about the cellulite?

Did they tell you it would be a fight

To keep your value as you age?

Psh, girl..

You turn that page.

Girl, you hold your head up high,

You’ve worked a lifetime

Getting by,

“We’re getting old!”

We bitch and moan,

We gotta leave

Those negative words alone.

Be kind to yourself

About the lines on your face.

That body spawned humanity,

Show it of a little grace!

They don’t get to dictate

How our lives are spent,

Asking if the best has passed,

And where our beauty went.

We “get” to grow old

And the deeper we delve,

The more we learn

To love ourselves.

Embrace the white hair

Don’t run from it far,

It crowns you like

The queen you are,

And know your value

Show yourself love.

Your newfound confidence

It fits like a glove!

Wear bright colors,

Grow your hair,

Dance to music,

If you dare,

And rest in knowledge

That all along,

The things that gave you wrinkles

Have also made you strong.

Poetry · Spiritual

Ballad of a Mid-Life Mama

July 4, 2022 Jana GreeneLeave a comment

By: JANA GREENE

What does the REAL me want in life?

I’d never thought to ask.

I forgot all about myself

While busy with the tasks

Of raising daughters

And leading daughters

As they were growing strong.

Did I stop to ask myself

For what my own heart longed?

No, I did the right thing

At the time…

I fixated on their wellness.

I hovered and fussed,

I tried to hand them over

To God in trust,

And somewhere in those precious years

I had a little inner-strife,

Because I couldn’t tell you

What I want for my own life.

But ladies?

Ah, now is the time,

To meet this a super Amazing Queen.

The one who looks you in the mirror,

The holder of your dreams,

And take the time to

Ask her plenty

What makes HER heart soar?

Hover and fuss over her some,

Then fuss over her some more.

My mid-life mamas everywhere,

Step into your new dreams,

And be who you were born to be –

A super, amazing Queen.

Poetry · Spiritual

You’re Already Whole

May 10, 2022May 10, 2022 Jana GreeneLeave a comment

BY: Jana Greene

I used to tell people,
“God can fix you.”
But now I say,
You’re not broken.
You are not bad.
You don’t need fixing.
You need loving.
Love put you back together,

On the day You breathed your first.
You already have it on-board.
God already inhabits you.
In every loving gesture you express
To humankind (or animal-kind.)
In every breath, holiness.
In every feeling of fresh hope,
In every laugh, sacred joy.
You are whole.
You are not broken,
No matter the evidence
Stacked against you. Keep your head up!
God is FOR you.
You are loved.

Blessed be.

Poetry

A Few of My Favorite Things (a little poem about finding joy ANYWAY)

January 28, 2022January 28, 2022 Jana Greene2 Comments

By: JANA GREENE

The scent of a newborn,

The smile on a dog,

A book well written,

The lifting of fog.

The smiles of my daughters,

The warmth of a cat,

A beautiful flower,

A welcome mat.

Being held

In my husband’s arms,

Crisp fall days,

A snoozed alarm.

The taste of chocolate,

A warm, soft bed,

Good, loud music,

A charcuterie spread.

Friends that “get me,”

A starry night,

Making up

After a fight.

Iced tea with lemon,

Having family around,

The laughter and union

Of new friends found.

These are a few

Of my favorite things,

That (even in a pandemic,)

Happiness brings.

We may have to look harder

For joy these days,

But it’s still around

In so many ways.

Poetry

Come Sit by Me, Anger

December 19, 2021December 19, 2021 Jana Greene2 Comments

BY: JANA GREENE

I made a new friend today,

Well,

I’ve known her a long time.

Her name is Anger and

we’ve been frienemies as far back

as I can remember.

She introduced herself

when I was just a little girl,

but she scared me with her

suffocating presence in my home

and in my heart.

Don’t be angry…it’s unbecoming!

That’s the message driven

into us little girls

like railroad spikes.

And we accept it

because we are told

it’s for a good cause…

our “betterment,”

but mostly for the betterment

Of others,

as it turns out.

So I substituted Anger with Sadness

For most of my life,

hoping no one would notice,

least of all myself.

As it turns out,

anger and Sadness are

thick as thieves.

Two sides of the same coin, really.

Sadness is safer

because it’s familiar.

“Be a good girl,” I said to Me,

my whole life,

especially when I was only little.

“Who are you to be angry?

Anger is reserved for people

Who can afford to

Lose other people.

Angry people are accustomed

To being generally safe.

No one is going to abandon them,

It’s a luxury –

being comfortable with Anger.

And the tax on that luxury

is cold, steel fear.

Because when I’m angry,

I wonder…

what if this person sees

that pissed off side of me,

and leaves…

just closes up shop.

What if I’m too much.

or not enough?

Don’t be angry….You’re too sensitive!…

And the insult of invalidation stings.

I’m old hat

at recognizing a good gaslighting.

I cut my teeth on the manipulation

Of others.

Don’t be angry…it’s not the Christian way…

Aside from one lousy

and very profound table-turning,

Jesus seemed never to act in anger again.

But I believe

Jesus was TICKED on occasion.

Oy vey! How could he NOT be?

Don’t be angry…it’s unfeminine.

Not ladylike at all.

Be meek.

Be mild.

You have a feminine mystique

image to foster.

To which I say…

Welcome, Anger.

I was taught not to associate with

the likes of you.

I was told you would disappoint people

If we hung out.

If I entertained you at all.

Come sit by me, Anger.

It’s okay to use your outdoor voice.

It’s okay to get mad.

This, I tell myself,

as I grab hold of Anger’s hand,

And be okay

With me.

Poetry

Winter Rains (and Spirit Pains)

December 18, 2021December 18, 2021 Jana GreeneLeave a comment

By: JANA GREENE

Hi, Readers. I wrote this poem at 18 years of age, during a really difficult time of upheaval. It rained and rained and rained that winter. I feel like maybe God gave this jumble of words to me at just the right time. So, read gently please. I was just a kid. Blessed be, friends.

The winter rains are cooler now,

The mystic love, it floods my soul,

Gray and blue from above,

And soft brown ground below.

The winter rains seem freer now,

In liberation they have cried,

As water from the sky

Is unrelenting, so I try

To let it flood me,

Embrace the rain,

So I can feel whole again.

I feel no more the dreadful fear,

That made my soul to hate the rain,

The downfalls, they lay bare my soul,

Until I’m drenched again.

The winter rains are plentiful,

But I see them now as water flows,

A season I choose to live quenched,

A season in which I can grow.

Poetry · Spiritual

Wrinkles and Strength – a poem about womanhood and getting older

December 1, 2021October 11, 2022 Jana GreeneLeave a comment

By: JANA GREENE

Girl, you leave that neck alone,

Did somebody tell you

before you were grown,

That our necks get crepey when we’re older,

That we lose our shine,

That we lose our smolder?

Did they warn you about the cellulite?

Did they tell you it would be a fight

To keep your value as you age?

Psh, girl..

You turn that page.

Girl, you hold your head up high,

You’ve worked a lifetime

Getting by,

“We’re getting old!”

We bitch and moan,

We gotta leave that

negative self-talk alone.

Be kind to yourself

About the lines on your face.

That body spawned humanity,

Show it of a little grace!

They don’t get to dictate

How our lives are spent,

Asking if the best has passed,

And where our beauty went.

Embrace the white hair

Don’t run from it far,

It crowns you like

The queen you are,

And know your value

Show yourself love.

Your newfound confidence

It fits like a glove!

Wear bright colors,

Grow your hair,

Dance to music,

If you dare,

And rest in knowledge

That all along,

The things that gave you wrinkles

Have also made you strong.

love · Spiritual

The Messy, Glorious Business of LOVE

October 12, 2021October 12, 2021 Jana GreeneLeave a comment

BY: JANA GREENE

Love is the singular thing, and absolutely everything, all at once.
All are in it and of it, imbued with this remedy.
It is the answer to whatever ails your heart.
Love is all that lives on after our Earth Suits fail.
It is fed and starved by a thousand moods, yet always nourishes.
Love lands in its feet.
It’s the only thing we were legit created to experience.
Love is like sacred oil – fragrant and dousing and scandalously generous. It leaves a film on you all of your days, and everyone in your world gets a little “oily” when you touch their lives. (Touch them lots!)
Love pisses people off when it is believed undeserved, when really people are under-served by it.
It breaks the economy of deficit, as its endless.
But even though it’s free, people seem to like hoarding it. Many enjoy rationing it, as if there was a finite supply.
As if it originated for us, by us.
As if we weren’t given it in order to pass it on.
Love is a Being.
And a Doing.
It’s an action and a sacrifice.
The feet of Love can walk through fire to get to another hurting soul, and strike up a dance to celebrate itself.
Love has wings to fly us to a place of acceptance, and roller skates with which to flee from hate in all its forms.
It’s the only thing that will ever make a dent in suffering, and the ultimate remedy for pain.
Love is all we take with us.
Spread that stuff around copiously.
God loves you and so do I. ❤️