Humour · poetry · relationships · writing

A Dog’s Heart

I am a dog, or so
horoscope tells me…
certainly been referred to
as the mother of…

Private lives fascinate me
tenderness tossed away
in the courtship process

Some prefer on screen
interaction – erecting
false intimacy

I am tired of it all
bark the right of refusal
no encores for me…

…except I’m a damn dog..
man’s best friend, so they say
loyal companion… shoot!
Lend me that crystal ball…

(A bit of light humour for this first day of October. Inspired by Eugi’s Causerie weekly prompt: crystal ball. Image my own.)

aging · Humour · life · poetry · writing

Victim

Can’t take responsibility
for what gets laundered here
my vehicle has no steering wheel

I am merely seeking understanding –
comfort, like support shoes  –
and I get flack, indifference
slapping me in the face.

Why did I put myself in this position –
revert back to old ways, think
I was destined for anything
but penniless devotion –

should have been a nun.

(Image from personal collection.)

aging · creativity · Humour · life · poetry · writing

Re-Purposing The Garage

It’s complicated, really, but so much
is defined by the presence of a garage.

Here is a stand-alone, connected by
a breezeway, single-car with storage;

could have been so much more –
had planned for it, but life changes.

Once had an oversized garage – direct
access, housed two vehicles, custom

built – but the cars are gone now, and
the single stands vacant, like my mind.

Except, the other day, I swore I glimpsed
an animal there, perched on the shelving

fierce, cat-like eyes caught in the dim
light of an open doorway – a tigress,

body crouched – I backed away, but
not before claws pierced my imagination

tended to the bleeding, chastising my
foolishness – of course, she isn’t real –

I lost my feminine prowess long ago,
am more of a groundhog now – slow

moving, podgy, sniffing the air for hints
of change, burrowing in the face of trouble.

A family lived here once: a tightly knit
portrait of three, lulled by the protection

offered – no storms to weather –
until the husband left, daughter

in tow; ducked beneath closing
of the automated door –

me, trapped beneath layers of regret
choking on their fumes, homeless.

Would ignore her, except for
those grasping, white-knuckled

fingers pleading for rescue; would
shoulder her, but shudder to host such

destruction within my walls,
already robbed of equilibrium

this state of heightened vigilance
a cause for neglecting self – have

humoured one too many advantage-
taker, cannot trust my own instincts

am disillusioned, no longer content
with inconsistencies, need to

confront the condition of my garage,
clean out the accumulation of stored

nonessentials – maybe hold a sale –
whitewash the interior and buy a car.

(Reena’s Exploration challenge this week is the long and short of it.  The above poem is the long.  The short follows.)

If life is defined by a garage,
then mine is single, attached,
empty and needing work.

(The original version of this poem was published in August 2016.  It has been reworked for this edition.)

disability · health · Humour · life · ME/ CFS · poetry · writing

Chronic Companion

She sits with me at breakfast,
follows me to the park,
hovers on the drive home,
celebrates when I lie down,
snuggles in with warming pad,
and moans…

Not a companion
I would have chosen,
preferred the active,
athletic life, and yet

She complains with me
in the afternoon, invites
excuses during dinner,
grounds me in the evenings
and tosses me at bedtime

Not a companion
I would have chosen,
but at least I’ll grant her this –
she’s chronically devoted.

 

 

blogging · creativity · Humour · poetry · writing

Utterly Redonculous

Looking for a rock at present,
preferably a boulder,
might dig myself a cave
and await resurrection

sacrilegious, I know,
but the tasks are overwhelming
and the words – just too much!

I mean, eleutheromania?
The mere utterance enough
to make me run for cover

and now I am to believe
that pulchritrudinous
equates with utter beauty –

oh my raspy voice
stumbles over the words
as brain loudly protests.

Too much, I say –
will have to save creativity
for another day

Meantime,
I’ll be under
that rock.

(Prompts today elicited irreverence:  Reena’s Exploration challenge – see for yourself; and Ragtag Community’s unusual word; slightly tamed by Fandango’s “raspy“. )