Damn, I am happy

I ran 3 miles,
while everyone slept,
watch the sun rise,
choosing each step.
50 more years,
I feel I've been given,
maybe even more,
since now I am driven.
So on with my day,
home finally alone,
hours to float,
new freedoms to roam.

la la la

la la la life continues
la la la this is fine
la la la verdict pending
la la la nine days time

City Poems

3rd day:

City, City,
what a pity,
I can not stay.
Gotta go,
brain tells me so,
my heart she knows the way.
To the hills,
clean air to fill,
my lungs of city dust.
Was fun to see,
street life of thee,
but hug a tree I must.

4th day, angst reflected:

Eyes of many,
space for few,
tongues aplenty,
chomp bits then poo,
lines soar up,
to crowd the sky,
hurried bees,
say: yours is mine.

upon return to the city:

Glowing fog,
or is it smog,
at night they look the same.
Web of lights,
obscure the sights,
no stars to show the way.
Traffic signs,
confusing lines,
my heart is sinking fast.
Desire to flee,
is grasping me,
tomorrow home at last.

tried to write a poem about the beloved Redwoods. Tried for days actually, but it kept turning out angry:

Little Redwood sapling,
how will you fare,
with such evil minded monkeys,
demanding their share....

or

Little Redwood sapling,
will you survive,
thousands of years,
past when I die....

Oh well.

More time

Bippity boppity, here then there, on again off again, smile and swear, life is so fancy now, eyes do shine, without the hep C, my life more time.

Fresh melon

A two mile run and fresh melon for breakfast, a near perfect bandaid for the self loathing of yesterday's engorgement. And I'm not just talking about the 5 cookies. There were at least three earlier with my Grandpa, plus the doughnuts (can't forget all those). Oh my gosh, the doughnuts... one after another, till whoosh! I was slipping down that old familiar slide where each swallow becomes something more, something elusive, something wonderful, just out of reach, something almost there, something way better than whatever it is I keep stuffing into my face. And I swallowed until my belly ache pulled me to my feet, still hallow, full only of disgust, disgust for my being, my body, my self-fulfilling prophecy. And just to be sure, last night, I stuffed five more highly processed 'treats' down my empty throat. Ugg.

So the running and the melon, just enough to stanch the bleeding really, to heave me back on track till next time. Unless I can figure it out first, break this familiar chain, so thoroughly passed down through generations, so wonderfully absent during 12 months of treatment. I really thought the slippy slide was gone. Nope. Ah well.

Must balance this trick
just a little bit longer
more conscious must go
till my will she gets stronger
the elusive the wonderful
all real to me now
food so inspiring
not mindlessly chowed
it's a gift it's a joy
to savor and taste
just stay off the slide
far away from the waste
And teach this new lesson
to the bean fresh and new
we feel how we eat
each day it is true.

Bitchings of a homemaker

24-7
that's how it goes
up with the sun
till sleep breathing blows
Always available
at the drop of a hat
if not things get tricky
how crappy is that
The line it is murky
independence the plan
on she grows upward
to stand in the clan
Then the house
and the hubby
plus the dog
always grubby
With my college degree
and a career in the past
you'd think I'd be sailing
not lashed to the mast
24-7
I think, plan, and run
must balance this act
or my health be undone

I'm getting

that way again:

like a scalp needing to be scrubbed
like a plant thirsty for rain
like a head pounding from hunger
like a pot boiling louder, higher

This happens periodically:

the waste builds
the sunglasses get lost
the third interruption yet again
the wait for the bathroom
the unending stream of dishes, laundry, dinners, dishes, laundry, dinner
the constant and consistent requests for more, can you do... can you do... can you do...

I'm close to blowing:

brow is furrowed
eyes averted
cabinets slammed
long breaths out over and over and over
low growling

One day:

I will catch this sooner
change course faster
take a break two days ago

Yearning

Unfinished poems
scratch lightly my head
bounce and flit hopefully
as I sit up in bed
But first laundry I hold
which later to fold
floors to be sweeping
more sand they keep keeping
and food to collect
prepare and inspect
for my bean is so hungry
hubby's belly's so grumbly
and the clutter is mounting
my steps I am counting
No time left to sit
for a moment to get
the words down
I do frown
yearn
my stomach churns
time
that is mine
lost
at such cost
to life

The Octopus*

The octopus,
secure,
warm
against my back,
purred,
a part of me,
pulsating,
happy
to be going home,
eternally grateful,
certain,
safe,
almost asleep.


*dream poem

At least it's not med induced

Going through a little low.
Natural though this feels.
One of those times,
when things slow,
lesser glow,
slower flow.
Alright.
Guessing source:
birthday backlash,
workday whiplash,
eaten excess.
Who could know,
maybe all of those.
Time to pull back my sight,
look around,
I know I'm right.
Why do I fight.
I know this drill,
just drop the frill,
release and chill.

Prime*

No more a mime,
I feel sublime,
saving some dime,
forgiven my grime,
not yet the slime,
quick pass the lime,
is that the chime,
so surprised it's time,
here comes my prime.


*changed again, and again, and again

On the run again

up with the sun
out for a run
1 and 1/2 miles
all full of smiles
and serious concentration....

following some great advice from a marathoner friend, reworking my running stride, shorter, more toe, back taller, full of flow..... big difference (ie: no pain hallelujah). Turns out my bod's weakened state just couldn't handle the inefficient, wonky running style I had developed by default over the years. ....ah, the good 'ol days of "just getting by", off you go by the way side, no time to loose, got new moves to groove, hold me back and I'll give you the sack, quick as that, it's a fact, I'm off to fly, on to hill sides, long stretches I'll glide, to find my new stride, more fun tomorrow, deep strength no need to borrow.

Jigging and jagging

Danced like my daughter,
out in the front yard,
moving and grooving,
flip flapping my arms.
hopped along gracefully,
soared with a twist,
jigging and jagging
it's all in the wrist.

My little bee

I have a little bee
that follows me
always you see
this little bee
day and night with me
no longer free
my quiet me
no stillness be
buzzing full of glee
at my knee
I nourish thee
comfort thee
love more than me
the forever tree
I'll learn to be
more patient see
but hear my plea
just one moment three
my little honey bee
can you be
quiet for me

ps: had a long day today

(of this mad woman)

The sufferings of a mad woman can be survived by wonder, the darkness a marvel, the pain a surprise.

3 1/2 mon free tag

*changed, added, altered 6/20

Tag in the front yard,
just me and the bean,
back and forth crazies,
the fastest ever seen.
Till dark we ran wild,
no chance to catch breath,
light rain kept on falling,
cool relief on our chests.
Sand was the rivers,
I couldn't dare cross,
with butt shaking antics,
my bean was the boss.
Still faster we ran,
till bent over gasping,
our legs burning hard,
true risk of collapsing.
We hobbled to the back door,
drenched full summer's sweat,
laughing sweet stories,
the best ever yet.
But her smile told the biggest tale,
with such brilliant brown eyes,
how happy she is,
there's no treatment inside.

Living

going out of town
for a couple of days
gonna see this
gonna see that
hoping for some living
with the colors of the day
strolling on the beaches of my heaven.

First hurtle fast approaching

Slow it down
hurry hurry hurry
Slow it down
hurry hurry hurry
Think good thoughts
worry worry worry
Think good thoughts
worry worry worry...

Well it's time for another fast. Time to cleanse. Time to recharge. Time to get grounded, surrounded by here, now, today, not tomorrow, no sorrow, just..... something, anything besides worrying about the damn viral test results.... which is only 5 days, 19 hours, and 7 minutes away. Iyeeiyeeiyeei...

Questions

Was it worth it
I'm wondering
Those 48 weeks
The broken
Keys jangling
My choices to keep
Each one tells
Of long tales
Empty of regret
Of journeys
And questions
I'll never forget
My smiles she's
Grown deeper
My view stretched by pain
My eyes they
Hold shadows
Protected from rain
I dream of
The right move
My virals all clear
Was it worth it
I don't know
But I'm happy I'm here

*written over a four day period

Testing poison waters

I'm so sorry my body
as I swerve to the sink
water
more water
flush out this horrid drink
Intoxicated for sure now
just a test
just to see
Did I want to go there
No more thanks not for me
A night on the town I had
let it rip
let it swing
But the means once familiar
Too much pain it did bring
I'm up in the night now
with a head full of lead
pounding in circles
more to come I do dread
I'm sorry so sorry
please let me survive
I'll harm you no more
I hear you inside
you're angry
disgusted
rightly so it is true
Our happiness and health
There is more I can do
so forgive that
I ask this
Last time I do pray
can you hold back my hair
then please look away.

*I didn't actually throw up, but I felt like it. My first after treatment beer was at about one month free. I've maybe had a small handful since, spread thinly, usually with a meal, once at a party. I think I'm cool with that. But this night was different, purposeful even. I actually wanted to see if I was "missing out" on anything... weird... but the answer came back loud and clear: "No! You are Not! What a stupid f*ing question! You can party and swing without that liver sting!!" OK. Got it. We're cool.