Tag Archives: Poetry

Sunset Reflections

Written on the gold-speckled beaches of Coronado, San Diego
Written on the gold-speckled beaches of Coronado, San Diego

The softest sand I’ve ever felt nips between my toes

Like the downy stroke of a newborn calf

Nostrils open onto untold worlds: Salty and filled with coconut tears

I lift my soul to the sea, allowing it to thrush through my veins

Leaving markers behind, as soft whispers tend to do

I am Aphrodite with gossamer wings: Fragile but beautiful

With power burnt deep into hollow bones

Move me with your persistent trick

Your silent cry for timeless mercy

Take my hollow bones and make them your temple

So they may be fragile and weak

No more.

On Purpose

“On Purpose”

Purpose found me on a dare
I was sitting there all unaware
Blissful
Wistful
Dreaming of dreams so easily attainable I forgot to
Leap
Just a pebble’s throw and off I’d go
Into the fray
The hopscotch of wishes
Throw a stone, see the potholes, and hope that it misses
Hope you land on two feet
Hope your turn isn’t lost
Then this illness reared up and I found out the cost
The cost of living and giving your future to fate
To always being a stone’s throw away from
Purpose
Or chance
And my gamble was strong
I fell through the cracks with nowhere to belong
And now as I hobble through one-two-three-STOP
I don’t cast a stone to determine my lot
It took years of illness to teach me this truth:
The chalk may be drawn
But the jump is all you.

“Upon the Eve”

Merry Christmas to everyone whose greatest wish is to find health in a box under your Christmas tree. This one’s for you!

 “Upon the Eve” 

Picture it

It’s Christmas day

Laughter spills into the air like milk you don’t want to wipe up

Pooling in your soul ‘til the barometer reads full up

Twinkle-dee and puddings plum in your eyes and in your tum

Garlands? Check. Presents? Duh.

That little bowl of green and red M&Ms winking at you from a-top the ivory Spode tablecloth

Silly cookie names that make your inner child giggle although you’d never admit it

Case and point: Australian nut balls

Hee hee

(No judging)

And yet tonight, upon the eve

Your thoughts may string together like christmas lights

Wondering: how will I make it through the day

On a day of holiday cheer

On a day I must appear

Happy

Normal

Healthy

Content

When the other 364 days of the year

I am

Not.

I wonder this on Christmas eve

Curled up in my plaid pajamas

Worry congeals my harried thoughts like day old macaroni and cheese

Making my blood hum an out-of-tune sonata

Then he enters

(No, not Santa)

Rubbing sleep from his eyes in squeegee motions

Come to bed, he says, his hair sticking up like the grass on my second grade classes’s chia pet

And just like that

I get it

The big slap in the face

It’s not about health or gifts or wreaths or pudding I can’t eat or chores I can’t do

It’s not about whether I’m tired or how hard it is to climb the stairs to my sister’s house

It’s about just one thing

The only thing, when all is said and done, that really matters at all

Love.

 

“The Iron Wind”

“The Iron Wind”

I looked out on the frosted moor

My mind did wander, took a tour

It sent me back to days gone by

When dream I did, and need but try

Yet youth was wasted ‘fore my time

My course was jackknifed on a dime

And now I must ply dreams with fate

My choice accommodate or wait

My shell won’t go my throat won’t sing

I know not what each day may bring

Yet as I traversed through these woes

A steely iron wind doth blow

It blanketed the earth below

And shoved me where I dare not go

Into the icy wilderness

Where sharpened blades my feet do kiss

I stand in place, my breath is smoke

I’m all alone, my spirit broke

And yet the iron wind does blow

And shows me where I dare not go

Where every step the ice impales

And every breath drags in like nails

But still I stand and pray to grow

My arms outstretched, my cheeks a-glow

And through a cloud a ray of sun

Spotlights my life and tells me run

Run even if your legs cannot

Dance in your heart and with each thought

For one day you’ll be here again

Your body matching what’s within

You’ll look out on the frosted moor

And thank God for what came before

This time is rare, the journey long

But it will serve to make you strong

And then the light it did retreat

Yet in my soul was born a heat

To live where iron winds doth blow

To go where others dare not go

And so I walked in stocking feet

And thanked the icy blades as sweet

For courage coined must come through fear

And roses grow where thorns appear

“Pieces of Me”

This poem is for the brave souls fighting through chronic illness or trauma, and for their caretakers who sacrifice so much through it all.

For Mandalf, who is off on a TOMS giving trip in the Dominican Republic right now: I love you.

“Pieces of Me”

The date was going very well

Ambient lighting overlooking fine fare

With one french press

And two cups to share

The smell of salt was in the air as we sat in that Starbucks on Thanksgiving day

Word association played back and forth like proverbial ping pong volleyed from two pairs of perky lips

Tell me quick, he smiled bright

First word that comes to mind

Pillow, he said

Talk, I said

Rain, he said

Singing in the, I said

Pieces, he said

Reese’s, I said

His eyebrows raised like wigwams

I think I’m going to like you, he decided

Very much

We still play this game

So many years hence

But my answers now reveal my fate

I never could have known back then

Pillow

Sleep

Rain

Tears

Pieces

Me

His fingers intertwine with mine

Wrapping strongly in the toughest weave only trauma can forge

And though this illness has claimed pieces of me

Our hands hold on

Clocking countless catharsis

Knowing even though so much has changed

The laugher less frequent

The light in our eyes dulled like a dimmer switch with each passing year

These pieces we’ve lost will someday reappear

For after all

They are only pieces

And the rest still remains

Waiting to welcome them warmly back home

“Stories”

“Stories” 

Stories

Stories are how we connect

How we remember

The talisman of the human condition

They are what make us cry and feel and aspire

To be the fearless warrior

Or the artist untarnished by ill-begotten gains

Stories make us feel alive

Our hearts beating in tandem

With your story is like mine

And I am not alone

With don’t tell me I can’t

And never tell me the odds

She clutches her story with the strength of a thousand eagles’ talons

Whist she’d gladly wish it gone

Her story isn’t happy

Sometimes hopeless

Always hard

But through this illness

These years of fighting blind

 She knows the reason why

It is because

It isn’t yet over. 

Insomnia Poetry

My Insomnia Poetry

This is what happens when you go a few days without sleep.

 Haiku:

 Garbled zombie speak

Drips like syrup from my lips

Sleep eludes me still

Nursery Rhyme:

 There once was a woman named Foda

Who drove a Toyota Corolla

Insomnia struck like the side of a truck

So she wandered the streets in a toga

#Fail: 

 This is my tired brain.

Sleeping is imperative.

Not sleeping is a pain….

Rhyming is hard.