Losing herself in an adventure
Fantastical in every sense
Getting lost in the story
Focused on another’s life
Role playing Japan’s way
Characters with predetermined tales
A rush of adrenaline
With every lesson learned
While all aware of the passing time
Enjoying the successes, the failures
Games imported from the Rising Sun
Entertain her when no one’s around.
Snapshots taken without a means
To forever treasure them
A clear jar adorned in colorful stones
Black stenciling proclaiming show placement
The air space just above our heads
Filled with many of nature’s greatest pilots
Hanging from a cabinet door
Ribbons displaying the results of great breeding
A challenge she desired
Something to get the juices flowing
Channel ideas otherwise stagnant.
Sameness breeds boredom:
Inside the box
Outside the box;
New outlooks arise
With an abandonment
Of the status quo.
Uncertainty reaches out to
Discomfort with new formats;
Change is always constant.
She now yearns to kayak
Those rapids of trepidation
In effort to see
Art in a new light,
Craft with new clarity;
Will you join her?
Patches of whit fluff
Over steel gray sky barges
Dot the vast ocean sky.
From down on the surface
These slow moving giants
Breed distant thoughts
Hopeful for a little rain.
No metamorphic drops
To fall on this patch of earth
Only clear focus
Allows that wish
To vocalize desires
Not yet to be.
Maybe another day
Maybe another week
But until the time arrives
That blue gray atmosphere
Is merely a snapshot
Amongst many from that moment then.
exhaustion is a funny feeling
the way it creeps in
and makes the body home
a burglar without a face
add in some suffering
to feel the full effects
swamping the body
stealing away the mind
sleep feels just fine
pulsating
moving to the groove
bass line hitting
the spot
head wobbling;
a bobble head
moving with
the beat
head banger,
thrasher,
metal head;
call this girl what you will
comfort’s
always there
never judging
a shoulder to lean upon
heavy music
wraps around the psyche
an embrace which lets go
only after turned off
catharsis
blooms from the ashes
of rage’s bloody path;
a phoenix rises
judgments
thrown the hardest
bounce harmlessly
with this vest
here to say
don’t judge
music is what you
make of it
hard rock
heavy metal
just two brands
from the available selection.
To drive down your winding path
And leave all cares on the driveway
Gives me such exhilaration.
Rubber grips asphalt
As I guide down your byway,
Feeling as my many horses
Go through their paces.
Man made landscapes fly by:
Walls to keep lives private,
Roofs and four walls
Designed to keep secrets in,
Sectioned off courts
Where structured games play out.
Along your winding spine
Nature takes the helm
Grand oaks and pines dominate
This new skyline
Serenity embraces these surroundings
Before my natural habitat
Makes his return
To the scene
And snaps me
Back to reality.
pin head irritants
swatting instead of being
soaked sneakers squeak
their greeting
dew drops caressing
droopy Nubian ears
peaking morning sun
too shy to greet us two
bleating calls turned wailing cries
with the start of this new day
I know this is not my usual type of post, but I wanted to elaborate on my previous poem. The poem I posted was about childhood and infantile stroke. I would like to provide you here with several links which will provide the statistics (I didn’t want to mention myself) for childhood and infantile stroke.
CHASA: http://www.chasa.org/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/chasa_pediatric_stroke_fact_sheet_2012.pdf
American Stroke Association: http://www.strokeassociation.org/idc/groups/heart-public/@wcm/@adv/documents/downloadable/ucm_302255.pdf
In the case of adults, here is a link from the American Stroke Association:
Warning signs of stroke: http://www.strokeassociation.org/idc/groups/heart-public/@wcm/@hcm/documents/downloadable/ucm_434181.pdf
The month of May is stroke month as well as pediatric stroke month so spread the word and pass these along to everyone you know as stroke can be a killer when the warning symptoms are not recognized or passed off as “nothing”.
This girl wasn’t a fluke;
Wolves in sheep’s skin
Of various species
Attack children often.
From this end there’s
No interest in throwing stats;
Only some awareness
To enlighten the normal masses.
Mine was a red wolf
Spreading death across
The pasture
Of intelligence.
Others, a gray wolf
Silently hunting
Blocking escape routes
In their massacre.
A chicken stealing fox
Picking off through the wire;
A coyote attacking
The heart needed to exist.
There are many others
Whose damage no one sees
Delayed development
Recognized as time trucks along.
Causes point to understanding
Except when none step forward
Spread the news this month:
Fetuses, infants, kids and teens
All can have strokes!
