(trigger warning- contains mention of prior attempted suicide some years ago- I am happy to say none of that is going on now) Encircled . To begin again I must find the strength To remember All that Almost never was That day I did not Drive my car into a wall. I am not ashamed …
Author: Lona Gynt
Hello. My name is Lona Gynt. Welcome to my sparkly dark little world. I am a resident of Second Life where I have been distributing a blog-type-thingy to some of my friends that I have met there. Now I am distributing it to any of my 7 billion other friends who might be interested. My ramblings include thoughts on poetry, art, music, bacon, and other cultural touchstones. I will share some of my own poetry from time to time, but I will never share any of my own bacon. In about half of the early posts I share some of my contemplations and eviscerations on what it is like to be a transgender person who is and also remains a devout latter-day Saint (Mormon), but my point is not to bore you with that all the time. Lona Gynt is a pseudopseudonym, I am keeping my real life identity opaque, but I am not to worried about keeping it secret. I am sick of secrets, I am ok with who I am, and I am sticking to all the other things (Church, family, covenants) that are still also important to me. Okey… enough about me, now lets talk about me
BTT 31.2 A Death in the Wild
This is a rerun from 2018 when Jilly at dVerse Poets pub prompted us to take a walk in the wild. This is actually not quite just a rerun, but a slight revision of the original poem. Here is the link to the original prompt. https://dversepoets.com/2018/05/01/lets-get-wild/ . A Death in the Wild · A …
BTT 71.2: In the music of a quiet morning.
I married my sweet Carly Danyel yesterday. I read this poem at our wedding, so I am reposting it again today. LOVE YOU SWEET CARLY BIRD!!! In the Music of a Quiet Morning . In the music of a quiet morning I am listening to small creatures Singing in the threatened line of trees Hiding …
BTT #76: WAR
bY lOnA gYnT fEbRuArY 2021. aLl RiGhTs ReSeRvEd. PoStEd To DvErSe WhErE bJoRn AsKs Us To WrItE aBoUt WaR gOd HeLp Us aLl. https://dversepoets.com/2021/02/02/poetics-war-poetry-2/ this was hard to read on a small screen, so here is a transcript. . WAR . NOW is the time for all men to answer the call to stand for …
BTT #75: Little Window
Little Window . When I was quite young, I would often lie awake in the top bunk in the basement room I shared with my brother. Sometimes I would switch my pillow down to the where the foot of the bed came up against a window that looked out at ground level into the fields …
BTT #59.2: So you think you are better than Lady Macbeth?
This is a rerun, first posted in 2019. The pandemic is a killer, and has been so exhausting, but we might need a reminder that the damage we inflict on each other may be the more insoluble problem. . Image is from poster of the 2015 Movie directed by Jason Kurzel, with Marion Cotillard and …
Continue reading BTT #59.2: So you think you are better than Lady Macbeth?
BTT# 75: Let Go
Let Go . You held me tightly In the morning As breezes Lifted from a Quiet sea. . I counted out The reasons that Circled round And held us there Entwined upon the sand. . I felt them Wrap around me. . The memory Of your skin. The promises I made …
BTT #74: Memory of a park bench on a winter night
Memory of a park bench on a winter night . We may say We seek the light, When in fact it hardly Ever lets us go, Surrounding us in Its patient holds It has us, we children Thinking we feel so Searchingly the need To open, look and see. . But it can Still surprise …
Continue reading BTT #74: Memory of a park bench on a winter night
BTT 38.2: How to Unwrap God’s Gifts on Christmas Morning
How to unwrap God’s Gifts on Christmas Morning ∗ Heal wounds. Soak Earth with sunshine. Breathe hope into sorrows And pace the Long and gentle Unwinding of the clocks. Don’t point and counter Or fence the tides of Wild creation into doctrine. Care for each other, Instead of playing endlessly With the box. ∗ ∗∗∗ …
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BTT #73: Sundial
This picture was hanging in a friend's house. I don't know the artist, and I don't know exactly why I chose it for this poem, but it seemed somehow to fit. Sundial . I have heard that Wherever you go There you are. True perhaps Of place and Footings, But when the Sun moved the …
