martinacollenderplaywrightblog

[martinacollenderplaywrightblog]

The day Leonard Cohen died even the sky wept for him. I woke to texts from my friends at the time trying to protect my broken heart from grieving but as much as we want to protect our loved one's hearts from grieving it's a form of magic not accessible to us mere mortals. I died a thousand times missing Leonard and I know some people will call me silly for grieving for someone I didn't know but what you must understand, I spent so many lonely nights comforted by his words and his words alone, so how could I not know him?

I went to see the Elvis film with my sister, and as I walked into the cinema, I KNEW he died at 42, I know he suffered drug and alcohol abuse, I KNEW this but still the knowledge didn't protect me from breaking down in the cinema when they showed his last performance singing "Unchained Melody" and when he sang "I'll be coming home, wait for me" I disvoled into a grief of such intensity I was sure I was simply going to die. There's a moment in the film where his ex wife is telling him I can get you help, I can bring you to Rehab and there's a deep sadness in him and he just says no. That's all he says is no. Two letters. But those two tiny letters held this pain that he was beyond help.

I'm poor and a nobody. Somedays I fantasise about being famous and rich but most days I'm grateful for being a nobody. I think it's a terrible infliction to be famous. Your worst days, the times your on your knees are splashed across the front pages of newspapers and people talk about you as if your absent of feelings. The world watched Amy Whinehouse, Elvis, Whitney Houston, Leonard Cohen and many many more being really sick and suffering. There pain was splashed across newspapers and people on radio and TV debated there sickness and addictions as if it was entertainment.

I'm a huge fan of Harry Potter; it was my childhood and I'm grieving because JK Rowling has come out with such hate for trans people who I adore, I'm heartbroken that my childhood hero has turned to hate against the very people she gave hope to. Daniel Radcliffe suffered an alcohol problem, he said he turned 18 and was handed millions of pounds and was surrounded by people who never said no to him and he began drinking a lot. I don't judge him for a second as I often to turned to seeking answers at an end of a bottle but it upset that pictures of him drunk and in an awful state where splashed across the papers, imagine being on your knees in pain and photos of your agony being so public, it's horrible and cruel. Emma Watson said in a interview the day the she turned 18 she went for dinner with her family and when she can out of the restaurant, the photographers were lying on the ground trying to get photos of her underwear up her dressed because she was now 18. To be victimised at such a young and venerable age was deeply distressing to me particularly Emma who is a fierce warrior for equality for women. These are just two examples of how vicious the media can be with no regard for human emotions and feelings.

I'm from Waterford, Ireland and I joined Waterford Youth Arts when I was 15 years old because I was interested in theatre. I hated it. There was far too much hugging and screaming from the other members and I found the games stupid and embrassing. I was all set to leave the world behind me after a month or two when I made my way to Garter Lane Theatre to see a production of To Leap From Paradise by the late, great Jim Daly. I was captivated and fell in love with the words and life's on stage I recognised as my own. I found out about Red Kettle Theatre Company and fell in love with the idea that a group of people from my home, from Waterford, got together and created magic. I loved that they put on plays with a beginning, a middle and an end with sets and costumes. I was far more interested in this than playing silly games. In my investigation of this group of people I discovered Ben Hennessy, a wonderful artist and set designer, my now favourite ever Playwright Jim Nolan and an extraordinary actress Jenni Ledwell. They were so talented, nationally known and famous artists, and they were from my hometown. I adored them and they became my hero's, by absolute stroke of luck they became my friends I'm so grateful to be able to say. I remember seeing Jenni Ledwell in Eden in The Theatre Royal and I fell head over heels in love with her. She was amazing and stole my heart. I waited for her afterwards with the intention of asking for her autograph, but when she came out from backstage in whirl of energy and light with a radiant smile I was too shy to go up to her, this was THE Jenni Ledwell like. I told her years later when we became friends and she laughed and said "Yea fecking eejit Teeny!" We lost Jenni recently and I've never been as affected by death as I was by hers, the grieve of losing someone famous, someone I adored and someone who is my friend is unbearable on the worst days, heartwrenching on the somewhat better days.

I find it very distressing to watch these famous people suffering because in my mind I simply can't separate the fact that they have feelings and are in pain with that there famous.

When I told my pyschratist I was grieving them, a look of utter confusion came across his face and he said "I'm sorry Martina we don't have a tablet for that" he simply didn't know what to do with such an intense grief on a daily bases.

I'm a mess, I cry when I'm sad, I cry when I'm happy, I'm always crying. I can't separate loving someone and being in pain for their pain, I'm constantly and forever more overcome with emotions on a daily bases, either overcome with love and drowned in grief. I'm mental and I don't know if it's because I'm mental or if it's just the way I am but everything is very intense. It's a price I pay for being able to love and if that's the cost I don't mind paying it.

I'm obsessed with famous people, the talented who rise to the top, sometimes I feel like I have no right to know these initmate details of their lives but I only want to know to understand their lives and hearts.

I was going through a really hard time, was hidden in lies and secrets. Jim Nolan, my favourite Playwright knew me briefly at the time, he could see I was in pain and reached out to meet me for a coffee. I couldn't tell him what was troubling me. The coffee was brief because I didn't have the words to explain my pain but at the end Jim peered at me with concerned eyes and said "Martina someone told me on my dark days, no matter how bad things seem, it WILL pass, try and remember that" I didn't believe him at the time, I couldn't ever imagine that pain leaving but I'm grateful to say Jim WAS right. It passed. It was such a gift to know my hero, someone famous, had dark days too and survived. It gave me hope that not only could I survive but I might be able to be talented too despite my faults.

Right now, I'm exhausted with emotion, nothing bad happened! In fact quiet the opposite I had a great week but I'm just drained for feeling so happy and love for my friends and family. I do become so overwhelmed with love for the people in my life I have to cry to release the emotions. Its funny and I'm used to it and I know I need to rest for a time now. I wonder if their is a heaven, and I highly doubt I'd be allowed in for my sins but if I am I wonder will I get to meet these famous people and thank them for the profound impact they've had in my life. Because really amongst the love is a deep gratitude to them. What can I say, I love the bones off them!

#writing #poetry poem writing prose #quotes #famous #Leonard Cohen #Harry Potter #Red Kettle Theatre Company #Jenni Ledwell #Jim Nolan #Ben Hennessy #Theatre #Waterford #Daniel Radcliffe #Emma Watson #50s elvis #Elvis #Crying #Weeping #bipolor

[martinacollenderplaywrightblog]

War Torn

They are worn out,

From a fighting a war,

They never started,

But now have to end.

How many more beatings?

How many more murders?

How many more Hate Crimes?

How many more humiliations?

There is a war,

On our people,

Who only want to love.

They are being hunted and killed,

For daring to love and live,

We stand by them all,

This country of ours,

Is a safe place,

There home.

We will fight with all our hearts,

This hate that burns,

With love so intense,

We heal all bruises.

Our country is at war,

The hate lives on,

In beatings and punches,

Filmed humiliation and cruelty,

Passed along like a whisper on Socail Media,

We will drown out the whispers of hate,

With shouts of love,

Will not stand by silent,

While this goes,

Friends,

We will go to war,

With you,

For you,

To protect you.

🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

#writing #poetry poem writing prose #poem #poetry #quotes #mentally tired #coping with grief #martinacollender #lgbtq #lgbtqplus #lgbtq positivity #lgbt art #martinacollenderwriting #martinacollenderpoetry #martinacollenderplaywright

[martinacollenderplaywrightblog]

Phone Call

By Martina Teeny Collender

The other day,

I got chatting to God,

We're on bad terms,

But we still find time to chat,

About times gone by,

And times to come,

And those Farewells,

And awful goodbyes,

He inflicted on us,

We talked about how,

I'm missing you still,

How we cried,

The day you left us,

Gathered round your grave to grieve,

I asked God,

Dose he know my broken heart over you?

I asked him,

Why he always takes the best,

With tears down my face,

Couldn't he take someone else?

He was quiet in my angry,

He was silent in my grief,

He was solemn in my hurting heart,

I guess he didn't know what to say.

Eventually he said,

Dear,

I've been getting so many calls,

My phone had been ringing off the hook,

About calling people home too soon,

I'm sorry he said,

I think he meant it,

There is nothing I can do.

He mentioned he saw you,

Now free from pain and shackles,

How you sit among the angels,

And don't stand out of place,

How you stand among the stars,

Watch down on us below,

Sending sunlight,

To show us,

You haven't gone anywhere at all.

I let an inhumane cry spill from my soul,

I miss her,

I love her,

I need her,

Oh lord how can you forsaken me?

The grief is killing me.

God then took my hand,

He said you only get a minute,

Better live while you in it,

Soon,

I'll be calling you home,

To the land that knows no parting,

And you'll be reunited once again.

#poem #poetry #grief #griefpoem #loss #writing #martinacollender #Martinacollenderplaywrightandwriter #martinacollenderpoetry

[martinacollenderplaywrightblog]

The ways we invent to hurt ourselves

The things we do to protect each other

Humans will never seize to amaze me

The way they react to love

The way they use hate as weapon

When indifference is the only thing

That can hurt another.

We fall into actions we never thought possible

We speak words we never thought speakable

We dance the same old dances

We wander through the paths we wandered

We speak hate when meaning love

We speak life when meaning hate

All the time wondering why the other doesn't take the bate.

We hurt ourselves in new and creative ways.

We hurt each other in new and creative ways.

We hurt and hurt until we're all burnt

And then wonder why it is this way.

[martinacollenderplaywrightblog]

Jen

By Martina Teeny Collender 

In memory of Jenni Ledwell who died on 25.04.23

If I'm ever lucky enough to be a mother, I hope I'm half the mother you are.

You have raised Sadie with such honesty, bravery, integrity and love it's breathtaking,

Heartstopping.

We're both daughters but you're so much more kind and caring in all and everyday act of kindness you did for you beloved mammy; I hope to be like you one day if I'm strong enough;

Brave enough.

You graced the stage,

With such dignity and talent,

You bought audiences to their feet in standing ovations,

Night after night,

Week after week,

You empathic skill bought characters to life in the most truthful way,

In the way of theatre life,

In beauty,

And in grace.

You're a master of the pen,

And you put the ink to great use,

Using your voice to be a voice to the voiceless,

You speak about what other hearts are too afraid too,

You write with an urgency and command every heart to drink in your every word,

You command every soul to hear your sentences tied together beautifully with your passionate words. 

You're a warrior,

Fighting for every injustice and cause you see,

You're a force to be reckoned with,

And I pray I never found myself on your bad side,

You were to feared in your power,

You took to the streets and helped whole communities rise up in power to do the right thing,

The brave thing,

The right thing,

Jen you always did the right thing. 

You adored animals so much,

I know the Rainbow Bridge is reaching out to you,

To love and care for you in death,

As you did for them in life,

There was not a creature on this earth,

You didn't touch with your love. 

Jenni, 

When I grow up,

I want to be like you.

And I know you're life on earth was troubled,

Only you could know the pain,

You never complained,

You lived and loved,

With such dignity and bravery.

It's time to rest now Jen,

The lights are coming down,

Last orders have been called,

It's time to hang up the dancing shoes.

My darling,

I'll never get used to saying goodbye to you,

So for now,

I'll just say,

Farewell,

Always in my heart,

You will be.

#poetry poem writing prose #writing #poem #poetry #quotes #mentally tired #coping with grief #love story #grief poem #martinacollender #stages of grief #dealing with grief #grief #grieve #grief journal #grieving #grief poetry #griefjourney #griefandloss #lost friendship #death of a friend

[martinacollenderplaywrightblog]

Hi all 👋

Tomorrow is World Bi Polar Disorder Day. They have a whole dedicated to us lunatics!

I was diagnosed with Bi Polar Disorder when I was 28, although I had been seeking help for my mental health since I was 16 as I felt there was something wrong.

I'd like to share some information with you on this day as being informed is the best tactic we have against the Disorder;

Bipolar disorder (formerly called manic-depressive illness or manic depression) is a mental illness that causes unusual shifts in a person’s mood, energy, activity levels, and concentration. These shifts can make it difficult to carry out day-to-day tasks.

There are three types of bipolar disorder. All three types involve clear changes in mood, energy, and activity levels. These moods range from periods of extremely “up,” elated, irritable, or energized behavior (known as manic episodes) to very “down,” sad, indifferent, or hopeless periods (known as depressive episodes). Less severe manic periods are known as hypomanic episodes.

• Bipolar I disorder is defined by manic episodes that last for at least 7 days (nearly every day for most of the day) or by manic symptoms that are so severe that the person needs immediate medical care. Usually, depressive episodes occur as well, typically lasting at least 2 weeks. Episodes of depression with mixed features (having depressive symptoms and manic symptoms at the same time) are also possible. Experiencing four or more episodes of mania or depression within 1 year is called “rapid cycling.”

• Bipolar II disorder is defined by a pattern of depressive episodes and hypomanic episodes. The hypomanic episodes are less severe than the manic episodes in bipolar I disorder.

• Cyclothymic disorder (also called cyclothymia) is defined by recurring hypomanic and depressive symptoms that are not intense enough or do not last long enough to qualify as hypomanic or depressive episodes.

Bipolar disorder is often diagnosed during late adolescence (teen years) or early adulthood. Sometimes, bipolar symptoms can appear in children. Although the symptoms may vary over time, bipolar disorder usually requires lifelong treatment. Following a prescribed treatment plan can help people manage their symptoms and improve their quality of life.

People with bipolar disorder experience periods of unusually intense emotion and changes in sleep patterns and activity levels, and engage in behaviors that are out of character for them—often without recognizing their likely harmful or undesirable effects. These distinct periods are called mood episodes. Mood episodes are very different from the person’s usual moods and behaviors. During an episode, the symptoms last every day for most of the day. Episodes may also last for longer periods, such as several days or weeks.

People with Bi Polar experience Manic and Depressive Episodes.

For me, when I have a manic episode, I believe I have special powers and can heal people and fix any problems in life. I also have delusions, such as seeing dead people or bears without any skin on their heads so it's just skulls as well as hearing voices to tell me to kill myself. I speak very fast and lose sleep making me more manic and tired. I spent money I don't have on silly things. I engage in self destructive behaviour such as alcohol or drug abuse. I might write but when I go back to it I find it's gibberish. I will express love I have for people in a manic manner.

A manic episode is like drinking 12 cups of coffee or taking a bag of Coke, your completely wired.

When I have depressive episode, I can't wash or sleep nor can I leave bed. I find it difficult to eat and I'm drowned in thoughts that everyone hates me and I should kill myself. It's very dark. I get so emotional it's like I've lost a family member or close friend, its dark and intense and can last days or sometimes even up to two weeks where you feel completely and utterly worthless and unlovable.

I have to be careful engaging with my family and friends when I'm having a manic or depressive episode and my ambition is to be a professional Playwright so I have to be careful writing in these conditions as often it is worthless and I have to start again.

I take two sedatives, one anti psychotic, two anti depressants, one anti aniexty, anti hystimeans to help me sleep and Lithium to manage my condition but that's all they do; is manage it. I have to work hard at controlling a manic or depressive episode, somedays I win, somedays I don't.

There's loads of downsides to being Bi Polar but the upside is that when I love, I love completely and intensely and emensly.

So if you've hung around; thank you! I hope I'm worth it. If you're gone, you're gone and there's nothing I can do about that but cry and weep for the loss of you.

Please try and educate yourself this World Bi Polar Day and reach out!

1 in 50 people will experience Bi Polar Disorder so if it's not you, it will be someone you love so please reach out and remember I'm not crazy I'm just a little unwell 💙

[martinacollenderplaywrightblog]

Thinking of all the victims of the latest shooting and there heartbroken families. How many more children need to die America?

Life Is For Living

Life gets in the way of I Love You`s,

I'm Sorry`s,

Thank You's,

The final last important words.

Life gets in the way with rushed breakfasts,

And "I can't believe you lost it, why are so scatty"

With "Where's my charger"

With "Fine"

Life gets in the way with "Where's your coat?"

"For fuck sake"

"I'm late"

Life gets in the way because life is for living.

Life is for snide remarks, and rudeness and silly stuff.

Life is for never thinking the last words you say to the person is your last.

Life if thinking those precious Goodbyes and Final Words are a million magic beautiful normal everyday moments away.

Life is not for thinking everytime you see your child to school you need to give them the last of your heart because life is for living.

I can't imagine the pain and horror parent's of the children lost in the school shooting are going through. Or the survivors.

Or the loved one's of the victims.

Or the dead young, the dead children.

Life is for living, not for saying your final Goodbye just in case.

Ban the guns American. It's too a cruel a world enough without this preventable hell on earth.

#schoolshootings #GunControlNow #guncontrol #America #DeadChildren

#writing #poetry poem writing prose #poem #poetry #quotes #mentally tired #coping with grief #grief poem #martinacollender #schoolshooting #America #gun control #gun control now #stages of grief #dealing with grief #grief #shootinginamerica #bantheguns #gun culture

[martinacollenderplaywrightblog]

Once upon a time, that could be three million years ago, or maybe it was just a few moments ago, or perhaps winter or could be summer, it's funny the way memory can do that to you and once you add feelings to memory, Logic can jog as it has no part to play in this tale anymore. Memory and feelings can warp time and make it fold into it'self. That's what we're capable of doing as humans, that's very strong...or crazy...it's very, very, very something for sure.

At some time, on the other side of the world, a pavement in the north pole, or just around the corner there was a boy. Who fell very hard in love with a girl. So hard, he knew he was crushed, cracked, changed forever before he even spoke to her. He just couldn't tell if it was for good or bad yet.

The girl would become obsessed with various different things throughout the day, she would get lost, unnoticed by time for staring at a snail, or the pattern rain drops made when they fell in a puddle, or the sky, or the crinkle crackle sound the crisp packet made. So she never really saw the world in it's entirety, she saw the ground and the footsteps and what was dropped, left behind. A stray sock of a child, a broken piece of a necklace, a smashed worm who was only going about his day, a toy.

So she never saw the boy smile at her, or wave, or even hear him say hello. The boy was crushed, he realised how rude it would be to break her thoughts, but convinced he was meant to talk to her he continued to try and break her out of her own mind. One day a ladybug passed the boy; he picked it up and held it in front of the girls face. She stared at the ladybug, becoming transfixed with it. Then she stared at the cracks and wrinkles of the hand holding it. She stared at the arm attached to the hand holding the ladybug.

Her eyes followed up to the boy’s face, she examined his watery green eyes, he's slightly runny nose, his stillness to let the ladybug know he would hurt it. The saw the tiny scratches from carelessly shaving. The scar on his nose from a fight she would hear about while the lay on her bed seeing the sky’s eyes. The girl reached for the boys other hand; she wanted to know what he felt like. He saw through her hair that was the colour of starlight two eyes that have seen too much from her minds eyes. He’s mouth twitched into an odd sensation.

They invited the ladybug to wedding. And the ladybug went.

#shortstory #writer #writing #writerslife #writersofinstagram #writerscommunity #writingcommunity #martinacollenderwriter #martinacollender #prose #nature #ladybug

#writing #poetry poem writing prose #quotes #mentally tired #coping with grief #love story #grief poem #martinacollender #writers on tumblr #female writers #original writing #creative writing #poets and writers #writeblr #writers and poets #writersoftumblr #writingcommunity #writerscorner #women writers #writersofig #writerscreed #writersmonth2022 #writersociety #writer #writer problems #writerslife #writers of tumblr #prose #short story #shortstory

[martinacollenderplaywrightblog]

Anaesthetic

Can be bought from as little at 75cent to as much as 5,000euro

Regardlwss it is priceless.

It rots the insides,

Offers a few hours of numbing peace

At a price, higher than any coin or note

The following morning

It's effects clear

Leaving it's mark of shakes and panic screams

Making worse what you were trying to numb.

Makes no sense

You should do that less...

Or not at all

But afternoon fades

Evening calls

With the voices to remind you....

Of it all.

A viscous circle

A merry go round

You can't get off

Won't get off

Are afraid to get off.

Nothing else works

You bargain

Argue

Pray

Use as an excuse

The temporary anaesthetic is so

Good

Needed

You'll pay the consequences

Cash it up

Put it on my tab

Whatever the cost

I'm good for it

Pay any price

For the temporary release

The temporary numbing

Temporary

But when the world fuzzes you

Can play pretend it's forever.

With a promise to no one

On one left to listen

You open the can

And swear on your life

This is the last time

The last night

The last medication of anaesthetic.

#poetsofinstagram #poetry #poetrycommunity #poetrylovers #poetryisnotdead #poemoftheday #power #poemchallenge #writing #writerscommunity #writerslife #writer #writersofinstagram #writingcommunity #martinacollenderpoetry #martinacollenderwriter #martinacollender #alcohol #alcoholism #alcholic

#writing #poetry poem writing prose #poem #poetry #quotes #mentally tired #coping with grief #love story #grief poem #martinacollender

[martinacollenderplaywrightblog]

Anaesthetic

Can be bought from as little at 75cent to as much as 5,000euro

Regardlwss it is priceless.

It rots the insides,

Offers a few hours of numbing peace

At a price, higher than any coin or note

The following morning

It's effects clear

Leaving it's mark of shakes and panic screams

Making worse what you were trying to numb.

Makes no sense

You should do that less...

Or not at all

But afternoon fades

Evening calls

With the voices to remind you....

Of it all.

A viscous circle

A merry go round

You can't get off

Won't get off

Are afraid to get off.

Nothing else works

You bargain

Argue

Pray

Use as an excuse

The temporary anaesthetic is so

Good

Needed

You'll pay the consequences

Cash it up

Put it on my tab

Whatever the cost

I'm good for it

Pay any price

For the temporary release

The temporary numbing

Temporary

But when the world fuzzes you

Can play pretend it's forever.

With a promise to no one

On one left to listen

You open the can

And swear on your life

This is the last time

The last night

The last medication of anaesthetic.

#poetsofinstagram #poetry #poetrycommunity #poetrylovers #poetryisnotdead #poemoftheday #power #poemchallenge #writing #writerscommunity #writerslife #writer #writersofinstagram #writingcommunity #martinacollenderpoetry #martinacollenderwriter #martinacollender #alcohol #alcoholism #alcholic

#writing #poetry poem writing prose #poem #poetry #quotes #mentally tired #coping with grief #love story #grief poem #martinacollender

[martinacollenderplaywrightblog]

“Your absolute best won’t be good enough for the wrong person. At your worst, you’ll still be worth it to the right person. Remember that.”

— Unknown

[martinacollenderplaywrightblog]

[martinacollenderplaywrightblog]

“I will be stronger than my sadness.”

— Jasmine Warga

[martinacollenderplaywrightblog]

[martinacollenderplaywrightblog]

“Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass. It’s about dancing in the rain.”

— Unknown

[martinacollenderplaywrightblog]

[martinacollenderplaywrightblog]

From Jean Ox's chapbook, Oyster Knife, available from Bottlecap Press!