Pretending at Living

Is this who we are, then,
choreographed echoes of moments
long since faded,
like the photographs in the stack of
albums hidden in the bottom drawer
of the china cupboard,
where we still remembered how to smile
in the way only a child can.
Before disappointment came and
leached the glittering hues of innocence
from the years wrought with failing
and flying, and the terrible sepia
that stole in with the loss of childhood.
A chorus of repetition greets the day,
where mimicry is mistaken for flattery
and empty words fall like spent
bullet casings. I string them together
and loop them around my neck,
try to remember how it felt to embrace
a kaleidoscope of living color.

Author: ebonyandcrows

Hello and welcome to my page~ My name is Larisa--a very common Slavic name that was either derived from the Latin word hilaris, meaning "cheerful," or from the Greek city of Larissa, meaning "strong fortress." Born in Ukraine, I emigrated with my family to America when I was still a small child and now make my home in the beautiful Pacific Northwest. Growing up immersed in two vastly differing cultures led me to have a burning curiosity about people all over the world. Stemming from said curiosity, I have fallen in love with traveling to other countries, meeting new people and delving into their culture, exploring new cities, and of course, dining on the local cuisine! If I cannot escape into a different country, then my next favorite method of adventure is to lose myself in a spectacular book. I enjoy books of all genres--from fiction and novels, to biographies and ethnographies. As long as it captures my fancy and holds me spellbound the entire time, I will burn through the book like a forest fire! Because of this penchant for reading and travel, coupled with my love of deep and mysterious things, I have been often called a dreamer and I find the title suits me. With that being said, I invite you to stay a while, perhaps make yourself a cup of tea and linger through my posts and feel free to comment or share a thought :-)

85 thoughts on “Pretending at Living”

  6. Great write, Larisa. Imo, its not how we are meant or should be revered but rather how we’ve just as innocently permitted the world to inconveniently store us, while we’re still window shopping for something or place worthy the balance of our life.

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    1. Thank you, Poet, for your insightful words. Window shopping is such a great way to describe it, and window shopping keeps us firmly on the outside looking in. It’s going to be trite of me to repeat that everything we ever wanted is on the other side of fear, but too often I find that the window I’m looking through is, in fact, fear. So, you know, smashing those windows one by one.

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      1. Albeit, window shopping keeps us on the outside sorta speak but it also keeps us safer, until we dare breach the pane- of safety glass because we’ve seen where we finally belong. Fear would prevent us from venturing out because we feel compelled to stay alone, inside. Enjoy your safe stroll and views. I’ll keep an eye out should you confidently meander by. 😉

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  7. I love All of this, but my fave part is: Before disappointment came and
    leached the glittering hues of innocence
    from the years wrought with failing
    and flying, and the terrible sepia
    that stole in with the loss of childhood.

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    1. Avia thank you so much for stopping in and reading my poem. I appreciate your lovely feedback 💐 Those words are thought provoking, aren’t they? I hope you have a beautiful rest of the week.

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      1. You are most sincerely welcome! And in case you didn’t recognize me yet, I was following you from a previous blog/name–we had just learned that we’re both in WA state ❤ Thank you for your good wishes– may you be blessed beyond measure this week! ❤

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        1. Avia, no I had not remembered, but I am so happy you mentioned that! How awesome it is to run into someone who has followed my original blog years ago by the same name! I wholeheartedly accept your blessings and I pray that the same be measured out to you as well 🙏🏻

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  8. “where we still remembered how to smile
    in the way only a child can”

    “and the terrible sepia
    that stole in with the loss of childhood”

    “where mimicry is mistaken for flattery”

    Your poem is full of glittering gems embedded to make a whole, yet each is composed of a sparkle bright enough to dazzle even when separated from the body.
    I’m sorry I couldn’t help quoting you… I’m amazed. Your poetry, philosophy and wisdom mingle to present something so effortlessly artistic, so so beautiful, I’m swept away by your expression!
    I’d buy your book in a heartbeat!

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    1. Ahh Isha, how weird would it be to say that I just adore you? As always, your words lift my spirit, and they are always so timely! Please feel free to quote away and I hope you never feel the need to apologize to me in doing so. You’re welcome to draw from any of my ideas I ever present on my blog (that is definitely not the mimicry I was referring to here—I was referring to social media molds and how everyone tries to outdo everyone else but then eventually everyone becomes a carbon copy of each other, amongst other things) Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your incredible words. They (and you!) are worth their weight in solid gold.

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  10. Gosh Larisa. Reading your words is like finding the words that my heart experienced but my mind can’t quite string together. And you do it with such Grace and beauty.
    “choreographed echoes of moments
long since faded,
like the photographs …”

    Oh, my. I can relate to this too much. Your talent is bright my friend, full colour, sepia it is not ❤️

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    1. Rachel, I’m breathless from reading your words! Thank you so much! Although I don’t accept for a moment that you are unable to string such words together—you are poetry in living form. Sometimes I try to imagine how you are able to breathe life into such beautiful poetry and I feel like my mind gets all twisty, like a pretzel. I’m still learning how to write like that. You are my muse.

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      1. Honestly, this kind of praise from a writer and beautiful soul such as yourself is dizzying. Pretending at living…. this resonates, like living in some faded version of yourself, desperate for color, for realness, depth, connection, for truth to your own self. Looking at what is lost and what doesn’t exist and struggling to find meaning in what ‘is’. I wish it were true that I were your muse, as what a privilege that would be. But your inspiration I think comes from some place deep, wise and probably varied. You reach deep within your heart for your words. ❤️

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        1. Yes, that’s exactly it—you reached in and extracted the very essence of what I was trying to convey, living a faded version of myself, one I remember from memory but haven’t quite figured out how to make my way back to. This is why I love other writers, they’re so intuitive and in touch with their innermost self that they immediately recognize these traits in others. I love your words. Thank you.

          Inspiration is one thing, but knowing how to spin it into a work of art in poetry form is quite another 😉 Hence, where you come in! I’ve read and reread some of your work just to try and get a grasp at how you managed to pull all the words together, but I always come away too awed to be able to do much thinking.

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          1. I see we continue our duel of compliments! I’m going to have to pull out my ninja moves. I feel very lucky to have your admiration for my writing. I hope you know, you most certainly have mine. All these things you say, I would like to turn around and use to describe yours. 💋❤️

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    1. Thank you so much. Sometimes I wonder if everyone is a little (or a lot) disillusioned when they reach adulthood and realize that all the magic was left behind, in a way. Maybe it’s a season we go through, I don’t know. Either way, thank you for sharing your thoughts, I appreciate it.

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  12. like the photographs in the stack of
    albums hidden in the bottom drawer
    of the china cupboard,
    where we still remembered how to smile
    in the way only a child can…..

    I read this poem aloud to myself. I had to. It wasn’t even possible not to.

    It had such a sad yet elegant melody to it. And as I spoke it, I felt such a tug on my heart strings… something nostalgic, something broken but quietly hopeful… ❤ You are incredible with words and mood, Larisa.

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    1. Wow..I am feeling slightly inadequate in the face of such a gorgeous reaction. Be still, my heart.

      I can only hope my poem does your praise justice, April. You are a legend among mortals, like the majestic unicorn you admire, and to be noticed by such a one as yourself..well, I only hope you know what that feels like too ♥️✨

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      1. You should never feel inadequate (even slightly) in the face of the awe that *you* have inspired. I am beyond impressed by your gorgeous use of language. You create these moments drenched in layered mood that I find myself basking in, contemplating, clinging to. Your potential is boundless. Very, very powerful.

        ps. Honestly no one has ever called me a legend or a majestic unicorn before and I…. I don’t know that my ego will ever deflate!!!! Ahhh! In the echelon of compliments – unicorn would be tip tier. *squeals and tackles for a hug*

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  16. I really don’t know how to react to this write-up Larisa. The childhood most people miss all their lives, I never had it. I only remember nightmares – abuse and all. I do not even want to remember that life. But if I talk about the feelings behind these words, I have to say – I am touched. You composed your feelings so perfectly that even I for a moment felt like wish I had a life to go back and relive once again. You are truly brilliant with your words my friend….!! ❤ ❤

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    1. Wow Kazi, this comment touched me so deeply! Thank you for sharing that with me. I am so sorry to hear that your childhood was the stuff of nightmares 😔 I wish I could give every child the childhood that I experienced. It was so magical and every day was a new adventure. It breaks my heart that you were robbed of such an experience, children should only reap innocence and security and love. Thank you for your kind and amazing feedback, I’m happy that this poem brought a little bit of nostalgia to you, even if it was only an essence of a dream.

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    1. It’s funny because we always yearn for what we do not have. But that is the beauty of growing wiser with age, you are not so easily dazzled anymore by things that are not within your reach.

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  22. I love your words. For me, I am revisiting things I loved as a child. Bike riding, hula-hooping, stuff like that. But now they have hula hoops that light up and shit. My childhood was taken from me but I’ve held onto my innocence. I gather the child is still in you somewhere, and you will find her. But the world has been made harder than it should be.

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    1. That is such a good idea, Delia, going back to simpler times and enjoying the pleasures we had as children. I applaud it. Thank you for the beautiful comment, your writing is vivid and brilliant and contains so much depth to it. I admire it.

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    1. So appreciated, Shanyu 🙏🏻 This was a reflection that radiated out of the fibers of my being one late afternoon during a rough day. If we can turn our broken pieces into poetry, they are that much easier to bear.

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    1. Spot on! I read a quote that said, “hurt an artist and you’ll see masterpieces of what you’ve done.”

      Why is it that it’s always pain that inspires the most depth of emotion?

      Love inspires as well, but I’m not sure yet if it’s to the same degree.

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