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Gwen Hoglund

Updated: 11 days ago

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Ever since I was a child I was attracted to poetry and had a desire to communicate the incommunicable. In my early 20's I lost my voice (metaphorically-speaking) and felt that as the saying goes if I had nothing good to say I should say nothing at all. Recently I have been diagnosed with a variety of mental health disorders starting with "schizo", and "anxiety" and have wanted to document my struggles with faith, reality, and identity in the 21st century.


My Tattoo Stigmata Wrestling with an absurd faith I think of Abraham and Jacob for courage And the devil laughs A 21st century mystic? I looked for work as a church janitor But those jobs are being outsourced To companies with a great corporate culture Rewarding hard work Washing walls So much for a simple convalescence. So I helped my mother paint Her deck white Obnoxiously white in her eyes And it was impossible to clean every speck of dirt Before starting So I had to paint over some of it. Grace pursues me like a hound And I wonder if what I have been fearing all along Is love The stars are darkened by the smoke Of a hundred fires And sickness, locusts, and drought have covered the Earth In signs That lead me astray Accepting my madness but Truth is getting harder to come by So many people building lies they Cannot sustain How many have died in pursuit of a perfect picture? And I have made many poor choices In the eyes of the world Why do I submit myself to suffering when the outcome Is so clear? My feet are sore from walking and My efforts are likely in vain Vanity all vanity My tattoo stigmata

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