poetry

Leave a comment Posted on me, multiple sclerosis, poetry

social media, faacebook & the great world connection

As the tittle reads; the internet has made it so everyone is connected. But is this a reality worth it? Recently I called all my old “close” friends; two answered. Some answered texts; on face book they often unfriend me. No ‘why’,No anything but with one click, I cease to exist in their world, On facebook I have hundreds of friends. If I post something they don’t like; they don’t explain; they start a facebook war.Opinions ranting, not fact based.I do not feel connected but hurt. I’ve been cyber bullied by a close old friend with no explanation except a “blocked” click of the computer mouse. And social media is so wonderful. Yes, it is in some ways. But is it worth all the pain, heart ache, paranoia, spying, fear it can create? I don’ t know anymore. However, being ‘unfriended’ this morning really hurt. So I took a Xanax. It’s kicking in. So I will ignore it and read a book. Books are safe. On the internet I am in a “little box”. Read my poem “little boxes” and you’ll understand and I bet you will go read a book too.

Leave a comment Posted on me, multiple sclerosis, poetry

Not for sale

Sneaky telemarketers keep calling me. To sponsor this site. Put higher on search engines. Or buy domain! I am not trying to make money. This site is simply for me to deal with life. Life is hard and painful. People need to vent,communicate, heal. My body, mind, domain, blogs, thoughts are not for sale. They are free

1 Comment Posted on multiple sclerosis, poetry

Who are you?

Passing law school; does not a lawyer make. You must pass the bar. Being an English teacher does not a scholar make. You ain’t got no grasp on grammar. Prescribing medications does not a doctor make. You forgot I have m.s. and anxiety; and I might carry a gun. (not such a good doctor now,huh?) Being kind; does not a friend make. You forgot my birthday and don’t answer the phone. Reading poetry; does not a poet make. You have never written one. Helping without a ‘thank you’; does a hero make. Grace before pride; does a spiritual man make. Thinking before you speak; does a wise man make. Breathing; does not a life make. You must LIVE.

1 Comment Posted on poetry

Today or Tomorrrow, Never yesterday

I humbly ask; to play this game fair.
I don’t know the rules, and who wins; I don’t care.
You can go first, or you can goo last.
It matters not. Already a thing of the past.
No one knows what the future holds.
Some players think so; if they are so bold.
They think it matters; status, money, or strife.
the harder they battle, they lose at life.
Whom invented this game? God, Devil, or man.
Creation? Evolution? Maybe aliens ran;
Away with our genes. Our hearts. Our souls.
Winning was never one of the goals.
For years they might have watched and listened.
Only to find they lost sight of the mission.
Always starts with good intentions.
The road to Hell is paved with such mentions.
If not God, aliens, man, Devil; than who?
Whom would conjure this mess, and leave us what to do?
Either beauty, destruction, a horrible mess.
What if the game is really a test?!
Will you go first? As I am scared to play.
Maybe tomorrow, but not today.
Take a deep breath; in and out.
Remember this game; you can do with out.

1 Comment Posted on poetry

The paradox

‘In the beginning there was darkness. And God separated the light from the darkness.’ Light must be the beginning of creation. Darkness, therefor; death. When we think of Heaven; we think of light. Pearly gates. Bright angles with bright halos. Why then is white snow often symbolic of death? Example; Robert Frost in ” Stopping by woods on a snowy evening.” I find this quite a paradox. Death, for me, is white. The great sleep. The great unknown. The answer to ‘”why are we here?” I think of death often and it comforts me. No more pain. The meaning of life. Quit, still, comfort. My husband hates that I’m constantly thinking of where I will be buried. I just want a good spot! Plus, I do not want to leave my child with burden. Everyone seems to fear death. THE END. I see it as the beginning! What an exciting adventure! Granted, I never pray for death, but I do pray for the physical pain to stop…would that not be death? Again; we are left with a paradox. Maybe the meaning of life is to understand this confusion. Perhaps it is different for everyone. Maybe the atheists had it right; and the religious are the fools. One day we all will know…or not. Maybe we just push up daisies. Either way, enjoy the now. Carpe diem. It’s gone in a flash! As Frost says, “Nothing Gold Can Stay.” My 35 years on Earth just leaves me more confused and in more pain every day. So many more are in worse pain than me! I want the answer. I can’t stand it! WHY so much pain to these specks of stardust called ‘humanity.’ We are a curious species. This self will thing is tough, Being AWARE is tougher. The bird doesn’t know it’s a bird. It’s just a bird. How lucky and cursed we are. To be human comes with a cost. The cost is being aware. Being curious. Never just being. The paradox continues. Today, try just being. It’s harder than you think. The paradox is always there, and it plaques this poet’s mind. When I find out the answer to these questions I will be long gone. “Nothing Gold Can Stay” even me. Though, I’m pretty sure I’m Purple not gold. So who knows? Have a great life and don’t think of the paradox. We’ll all find out (or not) eventually.

Leave a comment Posted on poetry

Why I stink at blogging

This is my first ‘written’ blog on poetry.I’ve been sitting here looking at the screen. All I keep thinking is; this is boring. Why would anyone care about what I think of poetry? Further more, why would I read any blog? No one is that interesting to me. I’d rather write a poem about anything; like penguins. Three of them having a conversation. What do penguins talk about? Why other penguins of course! Or maybe fish. This is too difficult. I’m going back to being a poet. I appreciate bloggers. No wonder they all talk of food or fashion.
I like the sea kale
I prefer the sea small fish
I think sea shrimp best
yeah,it’s a haiku about penguins. I so suck at blogging.-L. O’Brien