Walking. Stick.
Chunks of woody, white flesh
Splayed out on one end like a scream
Lay against the dark, wet ground.
Thin and Insignificant
If not for the exposed purity within,
i could have missed its message
amongst the ruins of Fall as i
passed by on the black-topped trail.
Cohen selling poetry as music,
my choice of sound for this stroll
Every step premeditated, while
balancing my bothersome spine
on steady legs and rehashing
what the physical therapist told me that morn.
Stiff with pain and stealing hope
i walked: listening to Leonard and my back.
then White, like new bone flashed to my right.
Slowing, not stopping
its story unfolded
in a single intake of breath.
Fractured from its parent plant
By the violence of some cutting machine,
Ten inches of pencil thin twig
Sprouted tiny green buds on its
detached, woody body. An emblem of
Hope incarnate, not stolen, like my own.
Around the next curve
when a misstep turned me into
A pillar of seizing pain,
It passed quickly,
letting me
get back to my new vision
of that twig, laying there,
growing tiny green fists of defiance,
Despite the odds,
On the eve of a killer frost.
Walking. Stick.
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George.Wright
- Posts: 1874
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- Location: Bangor, N.Ireland
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Byron
- Posts: 3171
- Joined: Tue Nov 26, 2002 3:01 pm
- Location: Mad House, Eating Tablets, Cereals, Jam, Marmalade and HONEY, with Albert
laurie. We cannot detach our bodies from our minds. Sometimes it seems that our bodies have a mind of their own. There is no more capacity of hate than that which a mind has for the hurt, which its own body fires at it. I hated my first walking stick so much that I smashed it on the kitchen floor. It was hand carved stick that a friend had made for me. It had a swan's head for a handle and was a perfect length for my decrepid old body. But it was a constant reminder of my limitations and as much as it helped me, it also made a concerted effort to continually get in my way, or so my subconscious mind thought. Have you heard Johnny Cash singing 'Hurt' ? It follows on in a way from your well considered piece. To those who will understand this next remark, you have my empathy. My life is my pain and my pain is my life.
Having said that I am struck by the way that G-d, or your own personal god(s) move. I switched my computer on 5 minutes ago to read laurie's poem, because my wife phoned me from work to suggest that I read it and see what I thought and felt after reading it. I also had a new e-mail message from a friend in Bangkok. He married the love of his life about 10 months ago and they have just been told this week by the specialists that she probably has a brain tumour. I'm in tears as I write this.........
Having said that I am struck by the way that G-d, or your own personal god(s) move. I switched my computer on 5 minutes ago to read laurie's poem, because my wife phoned me from work to suggest that I read it and see what I thought and felt after reading it. I also had a new e-mail message from a friend in Bangkok. He married the love of his life about 10 months ago and they have just been told this week by the specialists that she probably has a brain tumour. I'm in tears as I write this.........
"Bipolar is a roller-coaster ride without a seat belt. One day you're flying with the fireworks; for the next month you're being scraped off the trolley" I said that.
Condolences
Dear LaurieAK
A poem for brittle, little, fragile people
All gone is the guile and the teethy smile
Walking slowly alone, thin as stick people
Living lives very sick in thick medical files
Doctor please no more tablets and neddles
Move along there, you walking stick people
This is the queue to St Peter and St Michael
Next stop the graveyard, walking stick people
Condolences
Ben
A poem for brittle, little, fragile people
All gone is the guile and the teethy smile
Walking slowly alone, thin as stick people
Living lives very sick in thick medical files
Doctor please no more tablets and neddles
Move along there, you walking stick people
This is the queue to St Peter and St Michael
Next stop the graveyard, walking stick people
Condolences
Ben
Life rewards action, just as well done is better than well said. Yours the Galactic Pixie
Dear Byron~ I am sorry to hear about your friend's awful news.
In my life, the lord works in less than mysterious ways much of the time.
Posting this poem is an example.
I wrote it nearly two ago. And even more important is that this past week i had decided to not share any more poems on this forum. I won't explain that, but it was a real decision. Then yesterday i was on a walk, the same trail i wrote this poem about and that poem kept haunting me along the way. I came back home and without hesitation and counter to my decision, copied it from Word and posted it. Somehow i just knew it was what i was supposed to do. Sometimes i listen to that little voice. Sometimes i am deaf.
I do know the burden of constant pain. Nothing is more exhausting. And that fracture between the mind and body is devastating. Like living with an enemy. My heart goes out to you. You have shown wit, kindness and humor on this forum. I don't recall any complaints. I remember fondly your really kind and wise post to me about my "Lady..." poem.
I love Cashs' "Hurt." Bought the cd after hearing that song. Pain has so many levels and with me that song resonates on several of them.
After going through a couple of years dealing with the problem i spoke of in this poem my pain is gone. Or at least sporadic at worst. There is no explanation as to why the problem stopped along with the pain. I am thankful, whatever it was.
That fine line between being resolved to a particular destiny (like needing a walking stick) or fighting the verdict is such a difficult one. Sounds like you are doing what works for you and maintaining your sanity while doing it, 'despite the odds.'
In my darkest moments my faith keeps me going. The unquestionable notion that 'Everything happens for a reason.' Good and Bad. With NO exceptions.
Do you know the poem, "Invictus" by William Ernest Henley? INVICTUS was my car's license plate till a couple of years ago when that cretin Timothy McVeigh used it as his final words...Anyways, it is still my favorite poem. About the bravest most profound thing i ever read. It is recommended reading if you haven't seen it.
I am so glad you shared your story. Makes me appreciate your presence here even more.
All my best to you and your wife.
Regards,
Laurie
In my life, the lord works in less than mysterious ways much of the time.
Posting this poem is an example.
I wrote it nearly two ago. And even more important is that this past week i had decided to not share any more poems on this forum. I won't explain that, but it was a real decision. Then yesterday i was on a walk, the same trail i wrote this poem about and that poem kept haunting me along the way. I came back home and without hesitation and counter to my decision, copied it from Word and posted it. Somehow i just knew it was what i was supposed to do. Sometimes i listen to that little voice. Sometimes i am deaf.
I do know the burden of constant pain. Nothing is more exhausting. And that fracture between the mind and body is devastating. Like living with an enemy. My heart goes out to you. You have shown wit, kindness and humor on this forum. I don't recall any complaints. I remember fondly your really kind and wise post to me about my "Lady..." poem.
I love Cashs' "Hurt." Bought the cd after hearing that song. Pain has so many levels and with me that song resonates on several of them.
After going through a couple of years dealing with the problem i spoke of in this poem my pain is gone. Or at least sporadic at worst. There is no explanation as to why the problem stopped along with the pain. I am thankful, whatever it was.
That fine line between being resolved to a particular destiny (like needing a walking stick) or fighting the verdict is such a difficult one. Sounds like you are doing what works for you and maintaining your sanity while doing it, 'despite the odds.'
In my darkest moments my faith keeps me going. The unquestionable notion that 'Everything happens for a reason.' Good and Bad. With NO exceptions.
Do you know the poem, "Invictus" by William Ernest Henley? INVICTUS was my car's license plate till a couple of years ago when that cretin Timothy McVeigh used it as his final words...Anyways, it is still my favorite poem. About the bravest most profound thing i ever read. It is recommended reading if you haven't seen it.
I am so glad you shared your story. Makes me appreciate your presence here even more.
All my best to you and your wife.
Regards,
Laurie
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Byron
- Posts: 3171
- Joined: Tue Nov 26, 2002 3:01 pm
- Location: Mad House, Eating Tablets, Cereals, Jam, Marmalade and HONEY, with Albert
I kid you not. A local authority built a very nice old folks home in a newly developing area. They decided to give the road, which is a cul de sac, a name that was, wait for it !!!! St Christopher's Close.
On a serious note;
A survey carried out in the UK recently was reported on in today's news programmes. 48 percent of British people do not believe in G-d or the afterlife. Where on earth do they all think they come from?
They are individual minds in individual brains in individual bodies existing at this very moment in time. They did not live 200 years ago. They will not live in 500 years time in the future. They hear a voice in each of their heads as they think. Do they believe that everything is an accident? I'm off to find that poem laurie. Best regards. Bye the way, lostlyric, this afternoon, I have been listening to Tous le matins du monde, which you sent to Margaret. The music helped me a lot today. Thank you.
On a serious note;
A survey carried out in the UK recently was reported on in today's news programmes. 48 percent of British people do not believe in G-d or the afterlife. Where on earth do they all think they come from?
They are individual minds in individual brains in individual bodies existing at this very moment in time. They did not live 200 years ago. They will not live in 500 years time in the future. They hear a voice in each of their heads as they think. Do they believe that everything is an accident? I'm off to find that poem laurie. Best regards. Bye the way, lostlyric, this afternoon, I have been listening to Tous le matins du monde, which you sent to Margaret. The music helped me a lot today. Thank you.
"Bipolar is a roller-coaster ride without a seat belt. One day you're flying with the fireworks; for the next month you're being scraped off the trolley" I said that.
-
Byron
- Posts: 3171
- Joined: Tue Nov 26, 2002 3:01 pm
- Location: Mad House, Eating Tablets, Cereals, Jam, Marmalade and HONEY, with Albert
With my thanks to laurie.
Invictus
William Ernest Henley
1849–1903
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
Invictus
William Ernest Henley
1849–1903
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
"Bipolar is a roller-coaster ride without a seat belt. One day you're flying with the fireworks; for the next month you're being scraped off the trolley" I said that.
I guess he was on the road-naming committee 
, Laurie.
I had to use a cane this past Fall. I guess probably because I knew it was temporary, I did not want to give it up, but did in my own, best interests. I felt very secure with it. Whenever I could manage, I would get a motorized 'wheelchair' in the grocery stores. I loved it, as it made shopping 100 times easier.....but I quickly developed an appreciation for the things you were wanting being at your level, so getting out of and back into the chair after retrieving the item, wasn't necessary. I also was keenly aware that my buzzing around in it was fun [did it with a big smile] because I also knew that it was temporary. I'm certain my attitude would have been different had I 'known' the chair was permanent for me. Encumbered mobility is not fun.
~ Elizabeth
, Laurie.I had to use a cane this past Fall. I guess probably because I knew it was temporary, I did not want to give it up, but did in my own, best interests. I felt very secure with it. Whenever I could manage, I would get a motorized 'wheelchair' in the grocery stores. I loved it, as it made shopping 100 times easier.....but I quickly developed an appreciation for the things you were wanting being at your level, so getting out of and back into the chair after retrieving the item, wasn't necessary. I also was keenly aware that my buzzing around in it was fun [did it with a big smile] because I also knew that it was temporary. I'm certain my attitude would have been different had I 'known' the chair was permanent for me. Encumbered mobility is not fun.
~ Elizabeth
Geedub-DubOh-Lizzdub....
GW~Glad you like it. Thanks!
WO~I never get over being awestruck by others really being able to relate to something i write. I hope you are feeling better. Thanks for your 'well expressed' post.
Lizzdub~Yeah, my clues come from nature alot of the time. Sometimes fortune cookies....
love, peace and hope, Laurie
GW~Glad you like it. Thanks!
WO~I never get over being awestruck by others really being able to relate to something i write. I hope you are feeling better. Thanks for your 'well expressed' post.
Lizzdub~Yeah, my clues come from nature alot of the time. Sometimes fortune cookies....
love, peace and hope, Laurie