hard times ...

[Rían]

I've never written poetry (at least since I was forced to in school) but I was reading some poems on a medical discussion board that I'm on, and I wanted to try and get these thoughts into words. I'm sorry, but it's really a downer - I'm going thru some pretty awful times now as many of you know - my own very serious health issues where I have constant pain and debilitating fatigue, plus my son's severe physical handicap, plus this last year, my daughter contracting a very rare and very serious nerve illness.



The Undertaker


"Mom, I like when you wear make-up!"
I hear my daughter say, and groan
(inwardly; why give her more pain than
she already has? The other girls in her class
have moms that smile and move around lightly;
fleet, happy birds whose movements are thoughtless and carefree,
instead of greedily hoarded then carefully spent,
movement by precious movement,
as a miser hoards rare and costly things).

This means 5 less minutes of precious rest; but ...
it also means a little gift for my daughter,
who has fewer daily presents under her tree than those other girls;
but these presents are bought with more costly currency.

So I get up, moving past the pain
(or through the pain or with the pain,
for I can't move past it)
to my dressing-table, where I lay out the tools
of my outward beauty.

Soft, creamy foundation, that smooths out the blotches
and softens the lines of pain and fatigue;
Warm brown eyeshadows, and soft, dark liner
to give sparkle to eyes that are dulled;
Mascara to conceal the lashes that are gone
(along with other, more precious things);
Soft lipstick to brighten a smile
(God, help me to remember to smile!)
and my mother's perfume (this last is for me;
the scent envelops me like her arms;
a soft, warm, gentle embrace that doesn't hurt
because it isn't real).

I lay out the tools -
and start painting the corpse.

[Olmer]

I lay out the tools -
and start painting the corpse.

Very "cheerful" poem, Rian. Especially when you are talking about yourself.
I sympathize with your problems and pain, but seems to me you are going too hard on yourself.
Do you know why idiots never get sick, and if they happen to catch something, they would be back on their feet in no time?
Because they never feel bad about themselves.
They feel happy about their own body, no matter how imperfect it is , and the body responds to such attitude by tuning itself up.

Hope your next poem will be more hopeful and optimistic.
Don't give up!!

[Rían]

Originally Posted by Olmer

Very "cheerful" poem, Rian. Especially when you are talking about yourself.
I sympathize with your problems and pain, but seems to me you are going too hard on yourself.
Do you know why idiots never get sick, and if they happen to catch something, they would be back on their feet in no time?
Because they never feel bad about themselves.
They feel happy about their own body, no matter how imperfect it is , and the body responds to such attitude by tuning itself up.

Sure, in a small way, but denial of hard stuff is bad on the body, too. And thinking that a good attitude can cure major diseases is a load of crap.

Hope your next poem will be more hopeful and optimistic.
Don't give up!!

It might be, because there are many beautiful things in life, too, but I felt like writing about a difficult thing. I have no intention of giving up.

[Earniel]

Everybody deals with difficulties in different ways, Olmer. For some that means finding something cheerful and hanging on, for others it involves writing it off in bleak poems. One has to find the things that work for them and may help them cope.

I hope writing this helps you, RÃ*an. It's not a happy poem, that's for sure, but I think it's rather touching in describing the lengths mothers will go to see their children happy.

[Serenoli]

Hey Rian... I haven't been to entmoot in a long time, really sorry to hear you're going through such tough times Hope you and your children are doing better now.

it's also a really lovely poem..