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SAND GRAINS ON FLAT GROUND by Riveroflifelisajoy

 

The sun beats down

I can smell the sweat on 

my scalp and hair, the water trickles

down my back and I feel

like tearing my skin right off

Boils begin to fill with

clear fluid

as I look toward the

horizon my feet

tingle and burn

while I place one

foot in

front of the

other.  The back

of these cheap

sneakers is

rubbing against my

already

blistered ankles

but I must go toward

the tiny speck in the

distance.  It looks

like a bunch of trees and possibly

a resting place

So each step more painful

than the other.

I hope I find some of my

friends there

Sipping  Green Tea on

ice, and waving me

to continue to finsh my journey

home.

The grains of  sand on this

barren flat land are being

whipped up into dust and it

clouds my minds eye. 

I cannot look beyond the

obvious…yet the obvious is

too harsh to cope with.

“Come to us bid the tiny dots

in the distance.”  You just sit

right there and wait for me…

I keep repeating this to myself

as my feet start to bleed.

My big toe feels like a splinter is stuck

deep inside.

Why did I wear these deck shoes

anyway? 

I decide to keep

a weather eye on the horizon….

 

Fini

 

riveoflifelisajoy

COTTON MOUTH

Jay Jewels Cry FOR HUMANITYDry like the parchment of the

scroll of a writ

of so long ago

Thousands of years

hid away

Moments in the hands of

an anthropologist

crackling under his

sweaty palms

grasp

the dry old parchment

will melt away

if not put in sealed

archival containers

dry like the old linen dress

of yesteryear

like a ball of cottom in my mouth

the medical diagnosis

has come and gone

and now my sensations are

minimized

except for the diagnosis

pain that is ripping its’

way deep into my heart.

Trying to explain to my

child that he has to

take medication to save his

life.

Cotton mouth,

loss of taste for the

things you love.

Loss of sensation in my

feet and hands

Sitting I type not

feeling, not

wanting to feel the pain

deep searing a tunnel through

my stomach

I feel full,

gas overcomes my belly

cotton mouth

prevents me from

eating

like the fullness of

emptiness I hold

deep in my belly to

unfold until I scream from

pain and agony

Take the truth,

dealt the truth

no compassion

was the final blow

given

lost in a new

hell

fear of the unknown and

the diagonosis compells

the rickety fence of hell to

open and reveal the ominous

cavern that threatens to swallow

us whole

We must proceed my child

we must go in

Cotton mouth,

sweaty palms,

sweaty feet,

sudden compulsion to

release bodily fluids,

fight or flight sydrome

in full affect

compel me oh Lord

toward the light

Let taste return

Cotton Mouth–

I cannot swallow

for the diagnosis

itself is not paletable

The diagnosis was

given with such cold

precision like the blade

of the surgeons knife

Hold my hand my child

walk together we will

toward the tower of hell

but together we will

climb to heaven

despite the steely grasp of the  Cotton mouth!

Cross Over

Old Fabric by RiveroflifelisajoyCross Over and move out the way

Sometimes the river does not

sway,  the tide is high  and

my spirit is low

I do not want to look back

or let go

What do I say  to my child

to day

His love of life has

been challenged,

like a dry twig broken

and chips of it splinter

and fall away

His health is  limited

yet a picture of health

is he

So why this sad problem

that plagues me today

The doctor looks cool, and

medical team too serene

Your child has to take

xxxmiligrams and

that is all…

Have a nice day

Go forth, leave the

hospital and jump back

into the stream. river of life

and move on

after this limited 5 day

hospital stay

But wait,  I have more questions,

What about the side affects….

“OH, he just might be a bit sleepy…that is all

any way…have a good day!

No, NO!  I need to say this,  I have to ask

that….do not dismiss me so easily

For I must fight for my child

I must question, and stay longer if

I must

For though you are the doctor…I cannot

entirely trust

for each patient has

different needs, and questions…so let us reason,

let us rationalize before we say our goodbyes!

So again I say dear Doctor

today—crossover from your generalized sermon, and

medical doctrine

Crossover to a parent who is human, and alive..

Because the condition of which you speak

is not simple to me

not simple to my child

just simple medical diagnosis to you

So please….cross over from the cold

cruel world  of illness

disease

and  speak

Woman to Woman,  possibly Mother to Mother

please.

Fini

Riveroflifelisajoy

Wonderful!

nature-meets-construction-by-riveroflifelisajoy-number-two-scan.jpgWonderful I said. 

Yes,  Just Wonderful!

The weather is bright,

The moon is just right……

Wonderful!

But yet—I cry.

Why me I said,

the child of mine lays

flat on the bed.

The sun is shining brightly outside

his bedroom window.

We were just getting ready to go home

And he became ill.

Wonderful, I had said,

Marvelous, Great Fantastic

I thought and then

he was prone

attacked by a seizure.

“I Need Help!  I Need Help!  I NEED HELP!  I NEED HELP!

Was all I could say

I wanted to wail,

and scream and

drive that evil away!

I can’t watch, I can’t see

the Evil wretch which

threatened and attacked

my fifteen yearold baby!

So what?…that  he is fifteen….does it matter?

If your husband, or wife take ill….does it

matter that he or she is 50 years old?  or 35  years old?

Sickness, disease….NEVER come at the right time!

Death does not live in a life of reason

or ryhme….So please do not

ask me, or chide me and say….HOW OLD IS YOUR SON?

For when he lay prone against the hospital bed, and nothing left

to be said—-Look at him with love, look at him

with compassion…..for your family, your friends could be

sick tomorrow or the

day after…..just pray for me today

Don’t say, Well, he IS 15!

Well, a lady whose  husband passed away at the age of 45 from a massive

heart attack was older….and the loss is deep, and troubling nonetheless…..–Remember Jack Ritter who died from a Massive Heart tear?— from

Three’s Company Fame?—Everyone Cared…and Cried

all the same!

Just   offer a hand or a hug of compassion,

and  a  gentle breeze of concern….

Do not dismiss my challenge with

How Old is he?  Even if he were age 18—-he still would need MY help!

Yes, he is still my child….

So yes,  Wonderful!


It truly is Wonderful…when people can be responsive in a most

pleaseant way.

Why don’t you try that approach

today?

P.S.  

THANKYOU SYNDER CHILDREN’S HOSPITAL @ LongIsland Jewish for helping my son—No matter what his Age!

FINI!

—-Riveroflifelisajoy