Author: VJ

Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

I Wonder

Is this life-play pre-staged –
reservations made in childhood
when fun constituted priority,
and drama thrived, unchecked
by adults, bemoaning authority,
too self-absorbed to conceive
consequences beyond jest?

Or did some karmic assessment
initiate the unfolding –
social standing, and needs
prescribed as lessons,
dependents selected as inspiration,
and if so, is there a contract
revealed upon ultimate exit
or a certificate of completion
securing passage upwards?

Old Codgers

Idleness fills his hours
as if time knows no limits

I devour moments, afraid
tomorrow will forget me

we see-saw between
treacherous righteousness
and fusty avoidance

ignoring balance –
a sensible response.

(Inspired by the perils of an aging marriage, and submitted for Ragtag Community’s prompt:  fusty.)  Image from personal collection.

All But Comatose

If death is sleep
then surely I am close –
body leaden
refuses to budge,
brain a slow crawl

I would feel something –
remorse, fear, confusion –
but the weight of slumber
has numbed senses,
reaction sludge

only a drum, drum
of heart harkens
life’s continued spark –
What thread of will
keeps me hanging on,
surely sleep preferable?

(Myalgic Encephalomyelitis is characterized by exhaustion after exertion.  The fatigue is systemic. )