Poetry

Time is strange

People waver

Things go blank

Lines become curved

Forward becomes backward

and so I free myself

flying into the air

It runs in the family

Attention is all over the place

And our focus is questionable

Who can help

You or me

Energy used for brain work

Interferes with physical limitations

Patience is needed

No squirrels allowed

The weekend has arrived.

Appointments are still waiting.

Stumbled out of bed.

Time to get dressed.

The stomach rumbles

Reminding about breakfast.

Most importantly the magic liquid

Coffee.

My friend.

Delighting my taste buds

As you assist the higher functions

In propelling me along.

Plans are in full swirl

Getting everything ready

Clothes are packed

The vehicle is checked

A phone call from the school

A sick child

and plans are derailed

Most these days are unpleasant.

A burden or a chore to make

or take.

Telemarketers try to hide themselves

as a number from your zip code

while some 800 ‘s just make you cringe.

Then there are the ones to be made

in order that your schedule

is on schedule,

Gone are the days

when phone calls surprised and made you happy.

So are the days of our lives.

The adult version has brandy

The safe version has sugar

I have no brandy

so sugar will have to do

When you feel discomfort

at someone else’s pain.

Their circumstances

intolerable to them,

Uncomprehending to you

makes you unsure

of the words or gestures to do.

So smile and pat them on the shoulder

and do what you can

perhaps just listening

or sitting with them for awhile.

Even if your discomfort rises

at least you

are not in their shoes!

Selfishness does not belong here.

 

Awry

or Together

it is the determination

of the participants to make sure

whether they stick to the plan

or improvise

when it goes horribly

horribly

wrong!

You push yourself

hard

too hard

Then you break down

pain

in much pain

It is not just a matter of

healing

and getting better

This illness is now chronic

debilitating

and will never leave

How can you live with this

alone

and not able to do

the things you used to

Friends may or may not

understand

as you become isolated and alone

I’m a poet,

Don’t I know it!

Rhymes are a fad

and I can be so bad!

So a chance to live

says I should give, give, give.

Hope you enjoy

and no nukes employ

as I be myself

and try to look like an elf!