Saturday, July 18, 2015

Tears For My Best Friend

I was trying to find you a home
My home became yours
I loved you before I even met you
Little wild one
 
 
I had to help you learn not to be afraid
You had been in the kennel for most of your life
When I brought you home you hid under the printer table
You only came out to leap on my hand and arm when I slept
I had to help you learn to play with soft paws instead of claws out
 
 
You didn't understand bathtubs
You jumped in with me--twice
I laughed at you, I admit
You gave me a dirty look and went to clean yourself
 
 
You trusted me more than anyone in the world
And I trusted you too
I let myself love you very much
You were my best friend
 
 
You and I were supposed to be together for many years
But you died yesterday, on your sixth birthday
Your kidneys had completely shut down
I made the decision to release you
Rather than to let you suffer for a few more days
 
 
I will always miss you, Lafayette
My best friend
You were sick for much longer than I realized
You were stronger than I knew
Because you wanted to make me happy
 
 
Just before the end
You raised your head to give a soft goodbye meow
I don't want to live without you
I told you that you were always my best friend
And that I'd see you again
 
Please wait for me
 
~Cie~
 
Lafayette
July 17 2009 - July 17 2015
 
 
 

Welley: If the Land Could Speak

Saturday, June 27, 2015

A Child Called Butterfly

Image by Cath Hodsman
 
A Child Called Butterfly
 
Soaring on flights of fancy
They called her Butterfly
Her dreams have since flown away
 
~Cie~
 
Notes:
The American 767 is:
a tristich, a poem in 3 lines. (Cool thing to know!)
syllabic, 7-6-7 syllables per line.
unrhymed.
written with the name of a “bug” in it.

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2015/06/27/bps-shadorma-beyond-june-27-2015/


Sunday, May 17, 2015

Hello Angel

 
Hello Angel
It is such an unhappy thing
That the world will never again know
Your beautiful smile
 
 
It is an unfathomable tragedy
That you no longer recognize
The best friend that you knew from the time of his birth
Your brother
 
 
I have to believe
That when your suffering is at an end
The light will shine in your eyes again
That you will be able to remember
And to smile
 
On the day that the Heavens finally say to you
Hello Angel
 
Love,
Cie
 
Prompt Used:
 
Notes:
Re: the top picture
The prompt provides a perfect picture, which may seem incongruous for me to use, given the heavy nature of the poem itself.
My poem's subject seems the sort of person who would have enjoyed the whimsy provided by alphabet soup.
He grew up poor. Foods like alphabet soup tend to be cheap, and kids enjoy them.
He once said that he and his siblings really never considered themselves poor. They just thought that everyone lived like they did.
He ended up becoming extremely wealthy, but I'm quite sure that he would trade it all just to know what was happening once again.
I don't care if people get tired of seeing the following graphic or hearing about this person. I'm going to keep sharing and talking about it, because it is so very necessary to understand how much we need to research the diseases that cause dementia so that we can stop them--reverse them--eradicate them. So that no more bright, good people will have their lives destroyed in this way.
 
 
My friend Dolly believes that the suffering he is enduring has the capacity to teach people who are willing to open their minds and hearts. His compassionate nature was always a lesson for others. Simply by being who he was, he was a teacher. So I can see this being true, although I'm still deeply saddened and angered that one who always tried to be kind ended up suffering so greatly.
Dolly wrote a poem about why she considers Malcolm Young to be a Bodhisattva. It is worth reading.
 
If anyone has some sort of asshat comment about his unfortunate addiction to tobacco, keep that shit to yourself. He successfully rehabilitated from alcohol addiction in 1988 and never again touched a drop of the hard stuff. That's damn commendable.
Cigarettes are a notoriously hard habit to break free from. People who have quit using heroin have said that quitting smoking cigarettes is even harder. Often it is impossible.
Commercial cigarettes have chemicals above and beyond nicotine added to the tobacco. They are made to hook smokers and keep them hooked.
I smoked for 20 years, so I'm not about to get on my high horse. Truth is, I'd still love a smoke. I quit in 2006. I still think about it often and wish I could fire one up. It's hard not to go back. However, I wasn't as addicted as some people become.
Everyone's body is different. Everyone's brain chemistry is different. No one has the right to harshly judge another's weaknesses.

Thursday, May 14, 2015

Photoshop Creation: The Beginning of the End

The Beginning of the End
version 6
by
Cie

My Hero Looks Like This



You say this isn't what a hero looks like
You say he's too small and skinny
You say his face is too haggard

I say you have no idea what a hero actually is
When you are only judging
The book by its cover

His bravery in the face of unfathomable horror astounds me
He never complained when he discovered that he would lose himself
He only seemed to think of how others would be affected

I never realized how weary he looked until recently
How exhausting it must have been to try and remember
More and more each day, as more of himself was lost

It was said that he never knew where he was during his last tour
And now he remembers none of that at all
He is now weak and frail and all but lost, but he is still a hero to me

I have never seen anyone face such a terrible diagnosis
With such courage and dignity
Heroes don't always come in the form of a chiseled Adonis with flowing golden locks and perfect teeth

Sometimes heroes are fragile, elfin creatures
Who boldly face any challenger
Including the one they know will destroy them utterly
Without complaint or thought for themselves

This tiny, haggard man is my hero
And always will be
I hope I will meet him on the other side
So I can thank him for being just what he was

Love,
Cie

Prompt used: