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    #16
    So, my confession is that poetry is very difficult for me to write. My poems always have complicated rhyme schemes, because it's the only way I feel like I can put together anything of true poetic quality. Also, I'm long-winded. I love complex sentences and multi-adjective descriptions. Poems don't exactly work like that. Or at least not good ones when I try it.

    I'm a writer through and through. A verbose writer. And so I bring you an excerpt from a novella I've been working on. It is a piece I'm proud of, simply because I like the potency of emotion. [Warning: this is from the end of the story. It's sad, but I do sad better than anything else. Also - it has not yet been edited by my grammar fiend and I'm horrible at comma placement.]

    Thank you for letting me share this with you.

    EPIDEMIC

    Ethan appeared in the doorway looking impossibly paler than normal. His prominent cheekbones were particularly ashen, though his entire face was tinged with an unhealthy shade of grey. His lips pressed into a thin, weak smile and his eyelids drooped, heavy with fatigue. I could tell by the way his body slouched ungracefully and his knuckles blanched that he was gripping the doorframe to support his weight.

    I knew what was about to happen only a split second before it did, though that infinitesimal segment of time felt stretched out like the body of an accordion. Ethan's knees buckled, but I was already lunging towards him with my feeble arms extended out. Even when my limbs found their way around his torso, there was nothing for me to do but sink down to the floor with him.

    His eyes were apologetic as he clung to me, both of us sitting on the cool kitchen linoleum, his upper body resting across my lap. I pulled him closer, crushing him into my chest. I could feel my lungs constricting as panic threatened to overtake me and I forced myself to gulp in air while I gently rocked Ethan forwards and backwards.

    I was only able to overcome my own sense of impending grief when I felt my thin tee-shirt press against my skin, cool and wet. I leaned back to get a better view of the man in my arms and was horror-stricken to see him staring back up at me through moist lashes, his bottom lip quivering ever so slightly.

    “No,” I hissed, shaking my head vehemently from side to side. “Don’t you do this. Don’t do this to me.”

    I wished I could stop the selfish pleas from springing free, but my mouth was moving on its own accord. I knew I wasn’t making things any easier for either of us and I hated myself for it.

    Everything he had ever done from the very moment I’d met him had been for me. Every word and every action had been for my benefit and well-being. He had made the ultimate sacrifice, and, guilty as it made me feel, I couldn’t stop begging him for more.

    His body shuddered against mine and as I studied his pained face, two tiny water droplets dripped down onto his forehead. I brought a hand absently to my cheek and brushed away tears I didn’t realize I was crying.

    “It’s okay,” I whispered, leaning my head down against his. “It’s okay.”

    It wasn’t. The entire situation epitomized the very farthest thing from ‘okay’. This was unfair and cruel and heartbreaking and I was pretty damn sure if Ethan left me, here and now like this, I would never be ‘okay’ again; not even close.

    Life, however, was fickle and it sought to test this theory, yet again.

    The last words he spoke were not profound or particularly poetic. The simple three parting words he chose were not the traditional ones that spring to mind. There were no promises or declarations of love. There didn’t need to be. Our love and our promises and the poetry of our circumstance were palpable without words. Syllables could do nothing but cheapen the things we felt and the things we’d done.

    Adrenaline coursed through my veins, heightening my senses in such a profound way that I could physically feel the weakening of his heart with each labored beat. His breathing was getting shallow and his chest was rising and falling less frequently. He swallowed slowly and closed his eyes, forever hiding those striking moss-green irises I’d lost myself in so many times before. I felt my fingers instinctively fist his soft bronze hair, praying that the tighter I held on, the tighter he could.

    His lips parted:

    “You’re My Girl.”

    And as my body and my life split wide open the single thin string of consolation keeping me tied to consciousness was the fact that I was his girl. And he had always known it.

    xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

    Heartfail. Sorry. Perhaps I'll post a fun happy excerpt if I find one I'm confident in. (:

    "ιn ѕoмe wayѕ ι love everyтнιng. ιт’ѕ leѕѕ oғ a тнιng тнan 'lιĸe'…leѕѕ dιѕтιncт. leѕѕ…parтιcυlar. ι lιĸe тнιngѕ тнaт ι lιĸe вυт ι love everyтнιng. тнere’ѕ мore cнoιce ιn ‘lιĸe’. вecaυѕe even тнe worѕт тнιngѕ нave тнιngѕ тo love ιn тнeм. ι love тнιngѕ ѕo мυcн ι ғeel lιĸe ι coυld ғloaт away."

    Comment


      #17
      Infinity, you're right. I use the dragon as a symbol of the Hep C virus which entered into my life some time back which we believe was through a transfusion. I think it can also be used as a symbol for SCI, Cancer, or other illnesses which change so much in our lives. Thank you for your words in reference to it. It does say what is felt from deep inside of me.

      Also, I want to thank you for sharing your sadly poignant story. Too bad it was too short. Would love to read more of it. You have stirred my curiosity as to what more is in it. Beautiful and romanticaly sad. I loved it. Hope one day it gets published so I can get to read it in its entirety.

      While again going through my past writings, found this poem and wanted to share.



      Renewing Life


      Silence lay in front of me
      As life only appeared to flee
      Youth and passion had ceased to be
      Until a vision I beheld before me

      Love and passion once more revived
      The wonder of finding of being alive
      Erasing all the darkness deep inside
      Savoring the beauty of love and life

      With each touch felt alight
      Ecstatic light again so bright
      Touching the stars of the night
      The spirit once more takes flight

      Hope of life again reaffirmed
      Agony past no longer of concern
      Sorrow vanished never to return
      Your ardent presence is all now yearned

      Fervid fruit tasted and shared secretly
      Heartfelt moments forever impressed in me
      Throes of forbidden passion so heavenly
      Forbidden, yes, but desired for eternity

      © 2008 - 2009 Raven Lenore

      ********************

      Btw, do you cry or feel a lump in your throat whenever you watch sad movies/scenes/people? I do.

      Raven
      Have courage for the great sorrows of life and patience for the small ones; and when you have laboriously accomplished your daily task, go to sleep in peace. ~Victor Hugo~

      A warrior is not one who always wins,
      but one who keeps on fighting to the end ~ Unknown ~

      Comment


        #18
        i got one......
        sniff my ass
        smoke some grass
        dill me hard
        play that card
        "With my lightnin' bolts a glowin'
        I can see where I am goin' to be
        when the reaper he reaches and touches my hand."

        Comment


          #19
          Originally posted by Raven View Post
          Btw, do you cry or feel a lump in your throat whenever you watch sad movies/scenes/people? I do.

          Raven
          Yes. And often it's the smallest things that get me - a commercial, a morning news story.

          "ιn ѕoмe wayѕ ι love everyтнιng. ιт’ѕ leѕѕ oғ a тнιng тнan 'lιĸe'…leѕѕ dιѕтιncт. leѕѕ…parтιcυlar. ι lιĸe тнιngѕ тнaт ι lιĸe вυт ι love everyтнιng. тнere’ѕ мore cнoιce ιn ‘lιĸe’. вecaυѕe even тнe worѕт тнιngѕ нave тнιngѕ тo love ιn тнeм. ι love тнιngѕ ѕo мυcн ι ғeel lιĸe ι coυld ғloaт away."

          Comment


            #20
            Very well written. I hope you have better luck with your poetry than my son had on this site. About 5 yrs ago I coaxed him to come on CC, he did and wrote a poem, a few on this site made jokes about the poem and my son has never been back. Sad because he is a great writer/poet. You just never know .....

            Comment


              #21
              Originally posted by Mombo View Post
              Very well written. I hope you have better luck with your poetry than my son had on this site. About 5 yrs ago I coaxed him to come on CC, he did and wrote a poem, a few on this site made jokes about the poem and my son has never been back. Sad because he is a great writer/poet. You just never know .....
              Mombo, thank you and I am sorry to hear about what your son went through. I don't think many find what some of us find in poetry. To me is an expression of emotions, feelings .. good or bad and it can be beautiful. In my case, I loved to write since I was in high school. My English teacher encouraged me to write after she read my writings. For awhile there, life became too busy for me to completely follow this path. Then I re-discovered it and began writing again. I have started my own website and have put my work there too. I love sharing what I write and listening to what others have to say about what I write, good or bad.

              In your son's case, I would encourage him to not give up and to keep on writing, no matter what. I would like to ask you to keep encouraging him to write and possibly come back here. How old is your son? Maybe he would at least like to read others writings and it might re-awaken his desire to keep on writing. I would love to have him write some of his work on this thread. Like you said, "You just never know", he might stay this time.

              Raven
              Have courage for the great sorrows of life and patience for the small ones; and when you have laboriously accomplished your daily task, go to sleep in peace. ~Victor Hugo~

              A warrior is not one who always wins,
              but one who keeps on fighting to the end ~ Unknown ~

              Comment


                #22
                love this thread. heres one of mine. it is really a song.

                little ones come and give a great sigh
                nothing to do no money to buy
                what they want to own
                no money to buy what they want to own


                I gave em a jar with holey lid
                a little spoon to scratch and dig
                like mama did
                just like my mama did

                and send the out but not too far
                for heaven and earth in a mason jar
                bring me heaven and earth in a mason jar

                out they run out under the sun
                I drop a tear for my preciouse ones
                as they run back in
                all wearing a grin
                with their mason jars and treasure whithin

                got a rolly bug
                got a slimey slug
                got a rock from the medow
                got a lightning bug

                got a dragon fly
                a twisty twig
                I got a pretty feather
                got a leaf real big

                got a lady beatle with spots of black
                my eyes well up im looking back
                im seeing my mama like Im seeing me
                as they lookem all over
                set them all free
                look em over let em all be

                Shouts and giggles rise above
                shouts and giggles rise above

                little ones come and give a great sigh
                nothing to do no money to buy
                what they want to own
                no money to buy what they want to own

                give a jar with a holey lid
                a little spoon to scratch and dig
                like mama did
                just like my mama did
                and send em out
                not too far
                for heaven and earth in a mason jar

                Comment


                  #23
                  Some have known me briefly
                  Some have known me long
                  All of you who know me
                  know the lyrics of my song

                  It's a song that praises kindness
                  It's a song that honors strength
                  of a kind that bends for children
                  and fights in their defence

                  A strength admitting mistakes
                  A strength which shuns excuse
                  A strength to be a better man
                  each day with love infuse

                  So I beg my new friends
                  and friends with history
                  listen to the song again
                  and sing it in your key
                  Foolish

                  "We have met the enemy and he is us."-POGO.

                  "I have great faith in fools; self-confidence my friends call it."~Edgar Allan Poe

                  "Dream big, you might never wake up!"- Snoop Dogg

                  Comment


                    #24
                    (I'll edit in more, maybe)

                    You stay here and I'll go there.
                    I'm much more in love with your memory.
                    Misconstrued feelings, misunderstood sighs,
                    There's a need for the distance between us.
                    And the truth shall set you free.

                    Comment


                      #25
                      to dara

                      The long lost battle of life for you
                      was it worth the wanting,
                      the waiting,
                      the watching,
                      as you slowly died, bit by bit,
                      loosing one small battle
                      again and again and again
                      Your voice suddenly went quiet
                      No word, no voice, no communication,
                      Did the daily dying do it in?
                      did death find you withered,
                      weathered by waiting,
                      What does death a fraction a day
                      do to a voice so clear, so strong
                      Did death come for you to late,
                      like me.
                      was death an answer to prayers made
                      to mortality Waiting in the wings?
                      as you on centre stage took your pose
                      a poet shouldn't die by degrees
                      voiceless

                      Comment


                        #26
                        Pain

                        Wow! I haven't been here in some time and do attempt poetry. There is some good poetry here, love 'um!

                        Now I will dare post one of my own.

                        PAIN
                        (Begs to be edited)


                        It keeps me up at night
                        the lower back gripped like a claw
                        the undersides buttocks legs feet
                        burning stinging like boiling oil in the veins
                        the muscles crying helplessly
                        no let up for the past six months
                        all hours of day and night it persists
                        weasels ripping my flesh
                        overcomes normal thinking
                        it convincingly tells the mind to give it up
                        let it all go body mind leave relief
                        the mind inventories my meds
                        hum, got enough, but this Pacemaker
                        is going to keep my heart from stopping
                        put me in a coma no way
                        take one toke or two
                        deep exhale of breath reprieve


                        deep exhale of breath reprieve
                        only temporarily of course out of mind
                        the pain though is merciless no quarter
                        how even I questions where this power
                        to stay the course keep still Be in the Light
                        comes from and holds me true to who I Am
                        I know somewhere but this is only a poem and
                        word play is necessary to convey my inner life
                        without being a bore or seeking sympathy


                        life is an undisguised blessing open for all to see
                        I am alive all of me and am blessed to be so
                        even with Dybbuk being on my case for years
                        being his angriest meanest cleaving mother fucker
                        of all time persistently seeking my weak spot
                        but hey dream on my man my weak spot
                        is my strength
                        never venturing anywhere near that spot
                        staying close to the power source has allowed me
                        entry into the inner world the empty mind world
                        I am the only one to handle this situation in all
                        its complexities uncertainties and surprises
                        and I will
                        I will


                        -gary
                        Last edited by Garyis; 18 Oct 2014, 6:18 PM.
                        Gary Is = L-1 Para for 34 years.....................
                        ~~~~~~~~~~

                        Comment


                          #27
                          A friend just sent this to me. Thought I'd share it.
                          A Rainy Morning



                          A Rainy Morning

                          A young woman in a wheelchair,
                          wearing a black nylon poncho spattered with rain,
                          is pushing herself through the morning.
                          You have seen how pianists
                          sometimes bend forward to strike the keys,
                          then lift their hands, draw back to rest,
                          then lean again to strike just as the chord fades.
                          Such is the way this woman
                          strikes at the wheels, then lifts her long white fingers,
                          letting them float, then bends again to strike
                          just as the chair slows, as if into a silence.
                          So expertly she plays the chords
                          of this difficult music she has mastered,
                          her wet face beautiful in its concentration,
                          while the wind turns the pages of rain.

                          ~ Ted Kooser ~

                          (Delights & Shadows)

                          Attached Files
                          Gary Is = L-1 Para for 34 years.....................
                          ~~~~~~~~~~

                          Comment


                            #28
                            Thanks for posting this Gary! I wish Raven was still here to see this poetry!

                            (KLD)
                            The SCI-Nurses are advanced practice nurses specializing in SCI/D care. They are available to answer questions, provide education, and make suggestions which you should always discuss with your physician/primary health care provider before implementing. Medical diagnosis is not provided, nor do the SCI-Nurses provide nursing or medical care through their responses on the CareCure forums.

                            Comment


                              #29
                              Originally posted by SCI-Nurse View Post
                              Thanks for posting this Gary! I wish Raven was still here to see this poetry!

                              (KLD)
                              Where did raven go?
                              Gary Is = L-1 Para for 34 years.....................
                              ~~~~~~~~~~

                              Comment


                                #30
                                Unfortunately Raven died several years ago.

                                (KLD)
                                The SCI-Nurses are advanced practice nurses specializing in SCI/D care. They are available to answer questions, provide education, and make suggestions which you should always discuss with your physician/primary health care provider before implementing. Medical diagnosis is not provided, nor do the SCI-Nurses provide nursing or medical care through their responses on the CareCure forums.

                                Comment

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