Thursday, March 31, 2011

seeing through the dark

Telescope by Vladstudio


I try to imagine
What you are going through
I don’t live in your universe
I live in my own

I see your universe
Through the Hubble
Forced to speculate
From a great distance

What you need
What you think
Who you are

What life lessons
Changed your mind  
How you desire to live
Who you desire to be

Could our planets align?
Would you come closer?
Should you -

Become familiar to me?

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

30 Seconds




We are not alone
there is something bigger
than each of us
take a breath
relax for 30 seconds
change your thoughts

Monday, March 28, 2011

The Surface



I’ve spent too much time thumbing
The over-priced coffee table book
I’m every woman
as are you
I hold mine inside me
The same dark secrets you did
Only your mind is quiet
Immortalized by speculation

I didn’t put on the moisturizer today
And my lipstick it’s not a great color
Like you, I smiled my half smile
A snapshot in time
Revealing not more than we choose
Leaving it up to the curious
They wonder and ask,
“How are you, really?”
And we reply,
“Fine, I am just fine.”

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

The Threshold

Photo provided for Magpie Tales by Tess Kincaid

Shelved
Sword piercing the flesh
Dis-ease removed
Rather it hangs handsomely
It and I,
Mutually protected by our shield
Packed away 
Parkas and other seasonal oddities
Three quarters before it is viewed again

A sleep renewal
Life ascends in emerald waves
Comfort
Physical pain dissipates

Arise in carefree splendor
Pink polish with matching lips
Daffodils, crocus and magnolias
Glowing good vibes permeates every cell
A light shines bright
Deep within and
The surrounding realm
All is well

Many moons will rise and fall before
It is called to arms again
I thank the heavens for its repose
And the journey beyond
Its welcomed threshold


Monday, March 14, 2011

Shamrock Memories

Photo provided by Tess Kincaid
Green food coloring
A heart shaped pan
She baked all day

Shamrock paper hats

Birthday parties  
It was so special to her
A St. Patrick’s day baby
Almost named Patricia
Or so the story went
I can’t ask her about any of it now
I can’t thank her for all she did
My memories are clouded
Pleading
No more green cakes
This is my first birthday without her
She is with her Irish parents
Artists and Sea captains
Celtic seafaring folk

Readying the way for the rest of us 

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Sunshine Vitamin

Google Images

Today is a beautiful sunny day in Springfield which is rare here in the wintertime. Just what the doctor ordered, I mean literally. Recently, I had a blood test done for my annual physical and it was determined that I was severely low on vitamin D. Vitamin D is the sunshine vitamin and I just don’t get enough in the winter. I am not particularly good at taking vitamins; in fact, I don’t take much more than a chewable vitamin C. I guess I am hoping that I am getting enough of what I need through my nutrition. However, if you look at the picture of the main foods that provide d you will see all the things I don’t eat. I am just lucky all my other levels were perfect.


Google Images

Why is this vitamin so important? Aside from all the problems of vitamin D deficiency which include, bone loss, memory impairment, depressed immune system, depression, muscle pain and stiffness it was my general malaise that had me at a loss. I was feeling bad, really bad but it all wasn’t triggered by one or two current stress factors. I always feel a certain amount of fatigue, that is common with Muscular Dystrophy but this fatigue was ridiculous. The pain was crazy and I just wanted to throw in the towel. I couldn’t pull myself up but I wanted to, I needed to.
This deficiency answered a lot of questions about why I was feeling so poorly. It just makes sense. The hardest part about feeling bad is understanding why. Once the why is figured out, doing something about it becomes easier. So here is what I am doing under the care of my doctor. My doctor called in a script for 50,000 IUs of Vitamin D. I take it once a week for the next 8 weeks and then I switch to 800 IUs per day. I started on Monday. Mentally, I am doing better because I am doing something about this. I will keep you posted over the course of the next eight weeks with my sunshine update.
I am hopeful for the improvement and the weather outside today is only making things feel brighter.

Friday, March 4, 2011

Smooth Muscle

Smooth Muscle google images


Palming the walls of my surround
Miles of circle walking
Gaining no ground
Smooth to the touch
So dark my vision
Prevaricates my brain seeks
Where am I, that I can’t see the top?
So smooth to the touch, like glass
River worn stone
Nothing for a foothold
No way to climb up
No way to climb out
My foot kicks the bucket laced
With a severed rope
Waving my arms in the air
On tippy tippy toes
I feel its mated tattered ends
Fingertip graze my deepest stretch
And even if I was in an amphitheater
I would run back to my well
It is there I am comforted
By getting out but never leaving.

not sure what to do here

Okay bloggers and blog readers, I need your advice. First let me start out by saying that many of you know that my mother passed away in December on the 18th. For those that didn't know, here is the skinny. She was 65 years old and helped me everyday for the past five years.

I spend my days in a wheelchair with advanced stages of limb girdle muscular dystrophy. She stopped working as a private duty nurse at age sixty to come live Steve and I. We built a home and outfitted it with everything we need to making caring for me easier. Yet it still is a very difficult job. I wonder at times if it was all that she did to help me that over worked her. The very thought breaks my heart.

Half way through the time that she lived with us, Steve had heart failure due to a severely leaking heart valve. He had open heart surgery and she was right there helping him through that. In the end her own heart stopped and she died two days before her 66 birthday and 7 days before Christmas.

Now for my dilemma, I am not sleeping at night not even with a sleeping pill. I am crying each and every day. Yesterday I got a card in the mail from the hospital where she died. Although I am certain that her death occurred in my living room. The hospital is having a memorial service at their chapel next Thursday the 10th and I really am conflicted. I don't want to go but I do. I miss her a lot. My brothers have both said that they will not be attending. I think I should go because someone should go, right? I have never heard of a hospital doing something like this. Does anyone have any insight on this? I am hurting and I just don't know what to think or do.



Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Oddities of the English Language



This morning I received this poem via email about the complexity of the English language and some of its inconsistencies.  I think it is brilliant! I have no idea who wrote this. I wish I did so I could give credit where credit is due. If you know who authored this poem please leave a comment! It was just too good not to share.

It reads like a Dr. Seuss, at least that is how I read it the first time. Better yet, if you need to give yourself a good chuckle read it out loud, in your best Andy Rooney voice. You will be cracking yourself up in no time!





We'll begin with a box, and the plural is boxes,
But the plural of ox becomes oxen, not oxes.
One fowl is a goose, but two are called geese,
Yet the plural of moose should never be meese.
You may find a lone mouse or a nest full of mice,
Yet the plural of house is houses, not hice.

If the plural of man is always called men,
Why shouldn't the plural of pan be called pen?
If I speak of my foot and show you my feet,
And I give you a boot, would a pair be called beet?
If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth,
Why shouldn't the plural of booth be called beeth?

Then one may be that, and there would be those,
Yet hat in the plural would never be hose,
And the plural of cat is cats, not cose.
We speak of a brother and also of brethren,
But though we say mother, we never say methren.
Then the masculine pronouns are he, his and him,
But imagine the feminine: she, shis and shim!

Let's face it - English is a crazy language. There is no egg in
eggplant nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple.
English muffins weren't invented in England. We take English for
granted, but if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can
work slowly, boxing rings are square, and a guinea pig is neither from
Guinea nor is it a pig.

And why is it that writers write, but fingers don't fing, grocers
don't groce and hammers don't ham?
Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend?
If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of
them, what do you call it?

If teachers taught, why didn't preachers praught?
If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat?
Sometimes I think all the folks who grew up speaking English
should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane.

In what other language do people recite at a play and play at a recital?
We ship by truck but send cargo by ship...
We have noses that run and feet that smell.
We park in a driveway and drive in a parkway.
And how can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same,
while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites?

You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language
in which your house can burn up as it burns down,
in which you fill in a form by filling it out, and
in which an alarm goes off by going on.

And in closing, if Father is Pop, how come Mother's not Mop?