oldsunbird

"I have been more outrageous and more alone and more courageous than the world has known. Passerby, my heart is like your own."

Archive for the category “My Poetry”

Progress

I walked forty steps with my walker today.  Breathless afterwards and had to rest, but it’s a beginning.

The past few weeks have been brutal, physically.  Today was more of the same but I decided I can’t go on like this.  I have to do something!  So I pushed through discomfort and fear, clenched my teeth and just DID it!  Jenny walking beside me.  The sun is shining, the weather is mild.  I’m alive again!

 

 

 

 

Dear Scott

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday! (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Yesterday was your birthday, Scott.  You would have been 50.  Thinking today was the 10th, I’ve thought of you all day, trying to picture what you would have looked like and what you would be doing.

I can’t believe you’ve been gone 14 years!  It doesn’t seem nearly that long.

You once told me that if you killed yourself, I’d get over it and go on and live a happy life.  You were wrong, Scott.  I haven’t been happy since you did that unthinkable act.  Yes, I’ve gone on with my life.  What else could I do?  And there have been some moments of joy, not in living, but in nature.

I have not felt happiness in a long time.

Last Thursday, Beulah, one of my closest friends died unexpectedly.  I’m still in shock.  Then Connie, another close friend, was admitted to the hospital with clots in her lungs.  Wednesday, your brother, Ken, found out he has a hole in his heart.  And that’s just the tip of the iceberg of what’s wrong with him.

I’m not so well myself.

All this makes me wonder about life, it’s purpose, and what happiness really means.  And what difference any of it makes since it all ends and is repeated and ends again.

I resent it that we have to die, that we go through life with ambitions, dreams, desires, failures, accomplishments and then have to go and leave it all behind.  We take it with us, as if we had not  walked on this earth, breathed in the air, watched the grackle with the broken wing, read Mary Oliver or Thomas Merton, seen “Stop the World, I Want to Get Off” three times or eaten that piece of cherry pie.   Two hundred years from now, none of it will have mattered.  Sometimes I think of those who lived hundreds of years ago and I honor them in my heart.

This day is almost over.  I’m relieved.  Next month, we have to get through the anniversary of John’s death.  And so on.  It seems that every month, there’s a hurdle to get over.

I’m trying very hard to find pleasure in something.   To experience faith, and hope, and love.   To enjoy giving while losing so much.  To find a reason for it all.

I’ve been a giver all my life.  What happened?  The well has run dry.

Too Much Bad News

Beulah, one of my closest friends, died unexpectedly Thursday.  I’m still in shock.  Skip, her husband, has been ill for several years and everyone thought he would go before Beulah.  As a matter of fact, he’s been in ICU for over a week.

I don’t have details.  Don’t know if she had a stroke or died of a heart attack or what.  She was home alone.  Her daughter found her.

Beulah was such a lovely, caring, upbeat person.  When she walked into a room, the sun came with her.  She worried about her husband so much and I think she must have neglected herself.  She seemed well and always said she felt fine when I asked how she was.  She was taking meds for hypertension, but all my friends do that, as do I.  We talked about two weeks ago and I’ve been thinking about calling her.  Procrastinating, as usual.  I’ve done that so much, you’d think I’d learn.  I feel such a void in my life.

I talked to Connie, another friend, today.  She’s just been discharged from the hospital where she was being treated for a cluster of clots in her left lung.  She’s on coumadin now.

And Ken, my son, is going tomorrow for a test to determine if he has an aortic anuerysm.

Beulah, bless her heart; I can just imagine, with Skip in the hospital, how she went back and forth to be with him, probably not eating right, getting too much salt, being stressed out because of his illness.  I feel so bad for her.  The world is not the same without her in it.

I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed.  I wish I had a strong faith to get me through.  I’ll work it out.  I always do, but I do have issues with death and loss and being alone.  At my age, loss is inescapable.  Always knocking at my door.

Thank You and Best Wishes

Just want to wish everyone a healthy and happy new year.  May 2013 bring peace and safety to all parts of the world.  Thank you, my blogging friends, for your interest and support in me and my imperfect blog.  I’m amazed by the warmth and caring I’ve found here.  I can’t tell you how I’ve benefited from knowing you.  I hope to have more to give to you in 2013. Love and hugs. XO  Mary

A New Adventure

 

 

 

 

 

 

English: Title page of the first volume of the...

English: Title page of the first volume of the Yale Literary Magazine, published in New Haven, Conn., in 1836, and printed by Herrick & Noyes of New Haven. Image courtesy of the Yale University Manuscripts & Archives Digital Database. Retouched by MarmadukePercy. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

This morning I ordered the 2013 Poet’s Market from Amazon.  I’ve made a promise to myself to send out at least one poem a month.  I haven’t tried to publish in literary magazines or small presses in years.  I hate the business end of it and would rather spend the time creating but it IS nice, once in awhile, to see my poems in print along with other poets.  Also, at this time in my life, sending out the poems gives me a purpose, something to look forward to, whether the poems are published or not.   My life has become so humdrum, so void of freshness or excitement.  This will be an adventure.

 

 

 

 

Greetings

English: Live Christmas Music at the Americana...

English: Live Christmas Music at the Americana in Glendale, California (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Happy holidays to my fellow bloggers and other friends who stop by.  I wish you peace and many blessings now and always.

Thanksgiving, 2012

 

I celebrate the maple tree

its late fiery brilliance

crimson leaves

birds who stayed

when others followed

the sun and stars

gray squirrels snuggling

in winter nests

spotted rabbits sleeping

in burrows,

mercurial sky

grass damp   recent rains

leaves torn by the wind

scattering earth

dogs   walkers   drivers

dashing down Luster

this bright sun room

where I sit

wrapped in velvet

eating toast and

drinking tea

my dog curled up

next to me

the thick richness

of this day

lifted from the bones

of a dewy night

just beginning

(c) Mary Harrison, 11/22/2012

 

Happy Thanksgiving to my followers and friends!

Post Navigation

%d bloggers like this: