Posted in Poetry

Photographs

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Flipping through pictures,
I’ll find your car, the dog, and
sometimes the kids, but
where am I? You photograph
what you are afraid
to lose–our memories are
absent. As absent
as we are from your cellphone.
You make excuses–
“I’m a private person,” and
my memory is
“excellent.” Yet you
never considered what I
might like. For me, I
will need those chubby pictures,
the teenage eye-rolls,
the pictures of when
we loved, and hated each other–
to reassure my
failing memory .
I am not perfect like you
and I do not know it all.
I take pictures of
what I’m afraid of losing.
I smile when I’m sad.
Every picture has
a story to tell.

~~ Photographs

© 2018 LC

Image Credit to Greta Tuckute

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Posted in Writing

Six-Word Story- Year 12

Her sadness became her greatest triumph.

~~ Year 12, Cold War

Posted in Poetry

When I’m Grown-Up…

I want to sit on an old, wood porch swing with you
wrapped up in a coccon of your love listening to your
heart swelling in your chest as you breathe–
feeling the warm, summer breeze on our smiling faces
watching the sun slowly make her way up the horizon
the sky awake with color, the darkest blue clouds
against a wave of pastels- pink, purple, orange, yellow
the clouds fade to light puffy, cotton candy the
bright yellow sun makes her home in the sky
we make eyes at one another like two high school
sweethearts over our coffee as we talk about the
children and listen to the birds perched in the tall, Oak
trees as they sing their sweet songs. I want to grow old with you
in this old country house. You and me. This old, rusty swing.

~~ When I’m Grown-Up LC  ©2018

Posted in Poetry

Summer Mornings

The warm, summer sun peeks through the kitchen blinds
the delicious smell of coffee brewing hypnotizing my tired body
to wait impatiently for my vice I open the blinds and welcome
the sun like a long lost friend as I feel her salutation on my skin
I feel like a child ready to abandon my chores to play outside
I need to connect with nature to calm my restless soul to shake the
feelings of yesterday.  Keep dreaming! Always live for today.
I grab my favorite, cracked mug full of motivation, and walk outside at last.
~~ Summer Mornings. © 2018 LC

“A poet is an unhappy being whose heart is torn by secret sufferings, but whose lips are so strangely formed that when the sighs and the cries escape them, they sound like beautiful music… and then people crowd about the poet and say to him: “Sing for us soon again;” that is as much as to say, “May new sufferings torment your soul.” ~Søren Kierkegaard

Something about this quote I like. In this quote, I compare the poet to a caged song bird, who sings a sad, tortured melody, and everyone loves it because it is a melody they haven’t heard before. It is so beautiful it is eerie. They want the bird to keep singing no matter how sad and tormented he is knowing he may never be free. He sings for a crowd that may never understand him or his heart’s desires. Even if the bird was free, what would he do with his freedom? Hence, new sufferings.

 

Kierkegaard–

Posted in Blogging, Writing

Just Yuck.

So…

My poem yesterday stunk. I wasn’t satisfied with it. I need to get back to writing and making it a habit. I thought the prompt would be helpful, but it was frustrating!

It was frustrating because I’m out of sync. I am out of sync because I’m not writing.

My life has been a little overwhelming over the last year. Maybe a little more than a little.

It is part of my routine to help organize and facilitate home-school for the kids. They are doing awesome! It’s been a fun adventure.  However, we have also struggled with misfortune– some of our family members battled illness while others with more serious health problems. My father-in-law with Bladder Cancer and my sister with Intracranial Hypertension. (Sn: My father-in-law is now cancer-free, but my sister may have to have surgery.)

Mix in some familial and relational problems. It’s a rocky road. My life is never normal on this note. Nor will I ever expect it to be.

Then, the seasonal depression sunk in over winter. The cold and darkness doesn’t agree with me. Winter has a choke-hold on Spring, and he’s winning..

The wind is wicked. Messing with the power like a naughty kid flipping the light switch! Snow lazily falling from the sky.

Winter.

Not making time to write.

I am over it.

Time to find my motivation, again.

Posted in Poetry

The House She Lives In.

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The House She Lives In.

His love waned like the moon.
Actions don’t align with your words.
Words spoken can become your house.
Your house is key to happiness.

His love made her feel ugly.
Ugly becomes all she sees until..
Until the soul becomes depressed, weary.
Depressed from withholding love, suppressing love.

No touch. No kiss. Nothing. Loneliness.
Nothing but verbal sparring. False faces.
False words. I’m wrong. You’re wrong.
You don’t come to bed, anymore.

© 2017 LC

I experimented a little with this one. Tried to keep it to six words a sentence and recycled some of the words to the next sentence though not with the first and last sentence.

 

Posted in Life

Allergic to Coffee? Whaaat!

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This morning I was up before the birds to have labs done. I couldn’t eat and surely couldn’t have coffee, or water, but in my opinion coffee is equivalent to water. Coffee is water.

I cannot string actual sentences together too early without it. Not ones that make sense anyway because my brain doesn’t tell the thought producing parts to work as they are still asleep without coffee. So I work in short sentences and mumbles.

I don’t want to put a whole lot of thought into what I’m saying. Because I’m not at my best when I first wake up. My hair looks like how my brain feels. Not ready to think yet.

Give me coffee and twenty minutes….

My son and I had breakfast after at McDonald’s. Grateful to have coffee! He had coffee, too. Fifteen and a coffee- drinker already. Where did the sippy-cup go? (He will be driving next year!)

It makes me happy to see him grow up and sad in other ways. The hair on his face growing so rapidly shadowing parts of his baby face I’ve grown used to over the years. The biscuit stuck in the stubble on his chin, as he takes a sip of his large coffee loaded with sugar, and tells me it tastes like crap.

We laugh. I am glad we can chat over coffee. Nothing beats it.  It’s nice to have time together. We come home and he tells me McDonald’s coffee is “okay” only for waking him up, but he prefers ours. I totally agree.

Our coffee is Dunkin’ Doughnuts Chocolate-Glazed Doughnut. I’m a “chocoholic,” on the coffee. I have tried every brand of chocolate coffee I thought I could tolerate. It’s the “one” for me.

Talking with him about coffee made me start thinking about coffee. About three weeks ago, we ran out of coffee. I started drinking Maxwell House that I have here for my Mom. Compared to some of the original brands of coffee I have tried, it is the best.

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The week I drank the Maxwell House I noticed a rash on my chest. It was itchy. That week, I had a little trouble swallowing, catching my breath, and a small cough. I attributed it to allergies and dry mouth from medication.

I stopped drinking Maxwell House because my awesome chocolate coffee came for me. It’s cheaper to buy through the mail. I noticed after I stopped drinking it my symptoms went away.

Lately, my Fitbit tells me I cannot tolerate caffeine. I don’t drink a metric ton. I’ll have 10 oz. in the morning and occasionally in the afternoon– if I’m lagging like today. I will have pop if we are out. Or if my husband buys it. We try not to. He is more guilty of buying it than I am.

I won’t have coffee after 4 p.m. as I have heard it isn’t great for you. If I drink coffee then, I will toss and turn all night. Especially if “he who snores,” comes to bed. He can drink all the pop in the world and he sleeps like a baby. I don’t get it. Not fair! If I drink pop before bed along with coffee during the day, I will never sleep!

So based on the “Maxwell House incident” and piecing together how I feel when I drink coffee– possible symptoms–  and what my Fitbit tells me,  I may experiment when the coffee is gone to see if I feel better.

Today I googled– “Can a person be allergic to coffee?” I didn’t want to believe it. The one thing I totally love and depend on. How could I be allergic!? Turns out– Why yes, you can be allergic to coffee. Hopefully, it won’t be the case. I enjoy it!

Symptoms of Coffee/Caffeine allergy to name a few: rashes, acne, severe itching, migraine headaches, chest pain,

Some people can also be super-sensitive to caffeine. Some symptoms of hypersensitivity to name a few: irritability, anxiety, trouble sleeping, upset stomach, elevated heartbeat and blood pressure