In this, I shall wax poetic!

Maybe not poetic. But I do feel a rather touching post coming on.

I've been having a rather hectic time lately, for various reasons that have no place being mentioned on here. I don't handle stress well at all, to be honest. If its an upcoming event or possibility, I tend to gravitate immediately to the worst case and fret. I am a master at fretting and worrying.

If its a sudden thing, I get all flustered and freak out, flying around in circles, trying to do whatever I can to make it right, without the benefit of concentration to focus me. Then, if I haven't fixed it, I start to cry. My face gets all crumpled, snot and tears make their torrential way down my increasingly red face. My eyes turn bright pink, which is only enhanced by my grey eyes. All in all folks, I blubber like a baby.

There is one thing that can help me settle down; my friends. If ever I need a good solid comfort, it's my close friends. By good comfort, I don't mean molly coddling or cosseting. No, they listen to my whining, tell me what I could do change it, and encourage me to do better. Nine times out of ten, I fail to follow good advice given to me. When the "I told you so" is plated up hot and fresh for them to throw at me, thankfully they are better people than me.

I just want to take a second to say I love you to all my friends. All of you have helped me so much in the past, in so many ways. I can never repay or thank you all enough for being willing to put up with my bull puckey and horse manure for so long and so patiently.

Thank you.


Mush mush mush. Sorry everyone who doesn't give a good grape crush about this. Its Monday, its super early in the morning, and I have some errands to run tomorrow. So lets get this poetry on!

This one was inspired by my mother, who worked as a RNA at a nursing home. Now she works as a home healthcare aide.

Nurse's Aide

Under the fluorescent light's insomniac glare,
steadfastly she cares for all in her morning still hall.
Dripping IVs counterpoint humming TVs.
Silently she fills cups of ice, passing from
room to dim room, silent angel of ordinary needs.
She moves quickly, yet not forgets a single soul.

~~~~

This next poem is very long. It was an exercise in creating a poem along similar lines. This one was multiple short poems that followed a certain theme. As my portfolio at the time was Doorways and memories, I chose to do poems on doors. I did 14 in all.

I.

The carpenter's hand scraped
a few last strips of wood from
the plank. His drill bored a hold
and a knob put in. And the door
wept for the forest gone.

II.
A gust of wind blows
past the chill door, bringing
in the warm sweet breath
of new spring.
 
III.
A closed door longs
to be opened and locked
doors beg for the key.
 
IV.
She stared at the door
yet would not pass
the graven threshold.
 
V.
A rattle on the other side
of his door, his breath caught
and he clawed his way from
beneath his own racking fear.
 
VI.
Best oiled hinges cannot deafen
the broken echoes
of the closed door's sobs.
 
VII.
An open door sings the authority
to choose one's own path
and grants your eyes the
chance to see.
 
VIII.
The door swept open
to a pitch black room
un-illuminated by
the outer light behind.
 
IX.
The monster lurked without
switching its scaly tail, watching
for the gilded knob to turn
and the shielding door to give forth
the unknowing prey.
 
X.
The song danced beyond
the propped open door to tickle
the ear of a fair maid.
 
XI.
On the windowsill lay
the closed door's key.

XII.
Proud was the door who sheltered
the angels of Lot and protected
from the fists of Sodom.

XIII.
A river of words pooled
into an ocean of life. The door
dammed the flow, reducing it
to the thinnest trickle of truth.

XIV.
A lily lay clutched in her hands
as the door between life and eternity
lowered with a deep glistening
mahogany sheen.

~~~

Well, that was long. I have my favorite verses from it. Give me a shout telling me what you liked about it. Comment, please! I want to hear from you! Give me your opinions!

And also, everyone, please don't read too much into verse XII. It's not a commentary on what I believe about same sex marriage, religious beliefs or anything of the sort. It is simply a verse.

Politics has no place in my poetry. Always remember that, lovelies.

Sleep well and sweet dreams.