Well said…coffee makes the world go round. 😀
Photo from
Keurig.com
coffee is my drug of choice
it stimulates my sleepy voice
propels me through the daily grind
and clears the cobwebs from my mind
the only downside I can see
is twice an hour I must pee
Sleeping is nice, when you can.
It helps you feel refreshed
For another day.
Drugs are good, if they work.
Some people need more,
Some people need less.
I like to sleep, if I can,
And I’ll take drugs, if they work.
Sedatives will do the trick,
If you use the right ones,
But you can take too much
Of that kind of stuff.
Addiction is worse
Than a little insomnia.
So I try to relax on those nights,
As best I can, without them.
Sometimes, though,
You just gotta do what you gotta do.
Tables are good, as tables go.
Tables can be used and abused.
You can eat, write, lean, negotiate, talk gossip, talk trash, talk in circles, if you want to.
Tables are good with chairs.
Chairs are good for sitting on.
Chairs can be comfy, or they can be hard.
Chairs help you relax, or sit up straight and pay attention.
Chairs can be made of leather, wood, metal or plastic.
I like chairs. Would you like a chair?
Please sit next to me in your chair at the table.
Let’s chat about life.
Let’s make plans.
Let’s eat breakfast, lunch or dinner.
Or maybe just a snack.
Or maybe dessert.
Maybe cake and ice cream!
Maybe tiramisu!
I like lots of desserts.
How about you?
Underneath a burning sky,
Wilted muscles,
Broken bones.
Thirsting for water.
Squirming so that I can’t sit still.
Shuddering from itchy skin.
Poison ivy, head to toe.
Laying in a bed of nails.
Calamine might do the trick,
For a few seconds, anyway.
Or perhaps it is the contact
From rubbing it all on.
Bed covered thrice,
Sheet, then corn starch,
Then another sheet,
And more cornstarch.
Get too hot, you sweat,
Then you itch,
Then you scratch,
Then you ooze,
Then you scratch,
Then it spreads,
And you itch some more.
A vicious, endless cycle.
Taking prednisone,
And Benadryl,
And Ativan,
And more calamine.
Catching sleep when I can.
Hoping for mercy,
More sooner than later.
Next time I decide
To pull up weeds
And pull down vines,
I’ll be wearing long sleeves,
Long pants, and gloves.
Will I ever learn?
Sometimes it seems
That I am doing penance
For the wicked demons
That rage inside my mind and heart.
Other times it is different.
Things just flow naturally.
I am strong where you are weak,
And you are strong where I am weak.
Our personalities
And physical impairments
Fit together
Like pieces in a jigsaw puzzle.
We work together,
Hand in hand,
To create a wonderful masterpiece
That we call marriage.
An angel, they say, I am,
For putting up with all
Your special needs,
And those of our friends.
So compassionate,
Such understanding,
To always be there
When you need me, they say.
But it is you who are the angel,
For putting up with me.
All my faults,
That come aplenty.
Being married
To a strong, independent
Woman, who happens to be
Visually impaired,
Is not a challenge,
When compared
To a husband with mental illness
And all that comes with it.
Your needs
Pale in comparison
To all my hang-ups.
So how can they say
That I am a saint,
When you have had
To put up with so much
For so long?
If it was up to me,
I would be alone and miserable.
But with you,
My life is complete.
With the grace of your
Forgiving, gentle heart,
You have spun a cocoon
In which both of us
Ugly worms
Have been transformed
Into beautiful butterflies,
Fluttering through the sky.
Breaking the ice
Is a tricky thing.
I ask you,
How are you?
I introduce myself.
I ask you
What you do and
Where you’re from.
But do I wonder
How you’ve been hurt,
Or what your dreams are?
Do I ask
What is most
Important to you?
Do I wonder
Who and what you love?
I do wonder these things,
But do I say so?
Not usually.
We tend to stick
To the superficial,
Not daring to ask
What really matters.
We play the game.
But I want to know
Who you really are.
I don’t care
What you do
For a living.
Not much, anyway,
Unless it is
Your dream job.
So let’s start over.
Reveal to me
Your heart.
Tell me your secrets.
Hell is being away from you,
Not hearing or seeing you,
Not knowing that you care.
Hell is being alone.
Hell is when you’re mad at me.
Hell is not being forgiven.
Hell is being hated.
Hell is being mistreated.
Hell is being betrayed
By someone you love.
Hell is being neglected,
Abandoned or abused.
Hell is something we encounter
Every day.
Hell can happen anywhere,
At any time.
Hell is real.
Hell is here.
Hell is you.
Hell is me.
I know you,
Yes, really know you.
And you know me,
The real me.
You accept me for who am,
As I am,
Inside and out.
We don’t keep secrets.
Tell me what you think,
Exactly what you think.
Be honest.
I value your opinion.
What have you experienced?
Where have you been hurt?
What works for you?
What have you discovered?
I want to hear your story,
Feel your pain,
And your joy.
I want to laugh with you.
So give it to me straight.
I can take it.
Don’t hold back.
Tell me the truth.
I appreciate that you
Feel free to be yourself
Around me.
We don’t have to hide.
We trust each other.
I know that you
Only want the best for me,
And I only want the best for you.
So, let’s go together
Into this big scary world,
Holding hands,
And holding hearts.
Hey, you are the one.
Come to me soon.
Go on the journey with me.
Remind me of your love.
Answer me, when I ask
How you are doing today.
Tell me how you feel.
Trust me.
Do you know
What makes me happy?
Do you care
How I feel?
Let us agree
To support one another.
Let us go together
To find our future.
Be the same
As you were yesterday.
I remember you
As you were.
Life changes things,
And occasionally
It changes us.
Be who you are.
Be yourself.
Stumbling along the sidewalk 