Category: ME/ CFS

Awkward

Chance encounter,
a simple “hello”,
and I reel
backwards,
grasping…

blank

the mind a trickster,
memory inaccessible,
panic pulses

a response…

hovers

out of reach

expectancy
a deadline…

Am I smiling?
Or just an inert fool,
this brain fog
a cruel master.

(Ran into an old friend today.  Could not remember her name, nor where I knew her from, only that we knew each other quite well.  This is has been happening frequently – maybe as I get out more.  Very disconcerting.

Prompts today are from Fandango:  deadline; Ragtag Community: pulse; and Daily Addictions: access.)

Gratitude for dVerse

This current disconnect leaves me toe-tapping restless;
see, disease has commandeered my operating system,
and it’d be safe to say, if my body was an elevator
then it never really reaches any floor, and the state
of my alignment leaves me stumbling and ungrounded.
So staying put and writing is about the best I can do –
dVerse that makes me awfully appreciative of you!

(dVerse is celebrating 7 years with a call for a septet – a poem of 7 lines, or stanzas of 7 lines. Check them out!)

Storms

More black than red,
blood gathers in the tube
puncturing the crux
of left elbow –

a drip, drip of saline
curtails effects of dehydration,
while the newly infused
Gravol spreads – a calm
settling nausea; I sigh

Tests indicate an invader –
infection toppling an already
fragile system, cannot afford
the onslaught..

Hours later, I lie watching
as a storm rages outside –
the sweltering heat
having peaked,
now clashing with
cooler air advancing

Partner tracks the weather
patterns on apps, alerts
me of approaching systems

but I don’t need technology
am feeling resonance with
nature’s thunderous fracas.

(Today’s prompts are as follows:  Fandango’s One Word Challenge is curtail,
Ragtag Community’s offering is trace, and Daily Addictions is afford.)

Photo is from personal collection.  With the help of wonder drugs, I am at home recuperating.)

Love, Like Shoes

If searching for love
was like shopping for shoes,
I’d fixate on the simplest
of finds, choosing practicality
over fashion flair.

My preference is for earthy,
unassuming: plain is fine
as long as the structure
gives me room to breath –
no grasping too tight.

If I shopped for love,
like I do for shoes,
I’d ignore those pushy
sales lines, opt instead
for a supportive sole,

settle for guaranteed comfort
over flashy heels, can’t bear
the instability of pedestals,
love flattery like most,
but need to feel grounded.

No doubt I’d question
my selection, offer it up
to my children for feedback
be mocked, dissuaded,
put it back and search anew,

discover futility in my seeking,
realize that I need new love
like I need new shoes –
only a foolish indulgence
for a woman who lives in bed.

(This poem, inspired by a dream, was penned when I was still bed bound, two years ago.  Hope it made you smile.  If you found yourself on the hunt for love, what would you look for?

p.s. my husband fits the criteria still, lol.)

Chronic

Mitochondria,
research says,
holds the key
to this malaise –
DNA failing to generate
required energy

I push against
facts, strive
to hoist
this stricken body
from the tedious mire –

fail,
plunge,
succumb
await renewal
of momentum,
push again

a hopeless cycle.

(Penned for DVerse’s Quadrille #59, prompt: cycle.  Thank you to kim881 for hosting.)

Paper Pushing

I am contributing!

Are these lessons not
abundance – success?

Authorities are dissatisfied;
want me back in the game,
insist disability has an end –
analyze me to depletion
their plans shutting me down,
unforgiving –

Encouragement is called for,
and hopeful help,
something to prod progress

This bureaucratic tapping
turns on me,
creativity breaks down.

 

Contracting

Problematic situations
invite expansion – ego
near the point of torment

I am outcast –
newcomers fail to understand –
this missing motor

so I retreat –
into distraction
fail to reveal
caregiver

left to seek
scattered connections
self-absorbed

needy, settled
idly moving towards
desolation

abandoned on the edge
of initiation –
ego contracting.