Category Archives: Poetry

Resting

Today’s a gentle morning in my home. I’m still off exercise and took a break from tasks. I’ve got the time to pen this poem although I’ve no declaratives to make, no narratives or theories to suggest. I’m feeling good … Continue reading →

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Self-Treatment

Self-doctoring, I’ve flexed and made a list of symptom frequency and pain extent. I’ve read my diaries and haven’t missed what history can offer, and I’ve meant each statement of infliction to be true. Self-medicating now, prescribing rest, I’ve interrupted … Continue reading →

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Repetitive Motions

Experiencing minor chronic pain I’d calibrate if asked at three point five, I won’t consult a doctor or complain, considering how long I’ve been alive – perhaps the symptom’s age-appropriate. For though I have a parent living yet, and even … Continue reading →

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Going to My Room

What I appreciate about alone is talking to myself where you can’t hear, where I can gorge on words without a bone to pick with anyone, for no one’s near. My parents used to send me to my room when … Continue reading →

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Soot

As soon as all the work was done, I booked the window washing and the maintenance my fireplace deserves. The unit looked as usual – I never had the sense of something off. The ceiling fan was on. Was that … Continue reading →

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The Damp Deck

I’m well aware the weather could be worse; we pay a lot to live around this bay. But atmospheric rivers are a curse for me – extreme humidity today will not allow my just-sealed deck to dry. Evaporation is on … Continue reading →

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Benvenue

An early riser now, I’m up by 6 all summer, and my day off exercise is Sunday, when I get my weekly fix of puzzles in the back of Datebook. Eyes on friendly letters, coffee freshly made, I want my … Continue reading →

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No Smoking

I didn’t smoke tobacco to look cool, exactly. I mean, I was not concerned with peer regards. I made it out of school and off to college; then my head got turned by admiration. There I met a guy who … Continue reading →

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Onion Scales

Perhaps it wasn’t alcohol to blame. It may be that addiction didn’t star in her dramatic history. The same “You’re not as funny as you think you are” describes her now she doesn’t drink at all. Our intervention didn’t do … Continue reading →

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Sateen

My 90 year-old mother said to me (she’s really 93, but that’s too much for meter), that she’d like her bed to be equipped with linens softer to the touch. “I have two sets of sheets. But I’m not keen … Continue reading →

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