poet

1.14.21 - The Land of COVID and Insurrection 

Recalled fragments, thought by spider thread 
An anxious cursor blinks, retyped a dozen times 
NRP echoes unread love letters ‘tween tense 
Headlines that dim a frigid sky soon and sooner

The oven never heats, yet it spews sour flame 
Pizzas burned in minutes or never thawed. 
Woken from a cold dusk haze by bell tones 
From one masked, forced smile to another

Twelve more minutes on a cracked screen timer 
Fifty degrees higher, listen to the hollow hiss 
Who was within six feet for fifteen minutes 
Thirty six hours past. Fear, yet hope, for fire 

4.2.20 - #corona2020 VI

Points of light share their grace in the dead of night
A backyard porch and empty streets, lonely cries
Asking stars if they’ve witnessed this story before
Have wonderous other worlds survived these plights
Are they twinkling to bless us with rays of hope
Telling us to hold tight, everything will be alright

I’m exhausted. First one to admit that I haven’t been sleeping. I haven’t been writing the past few days. We’re all struggling on the inside in these long, silent days. Filling the time with the things we probably would have done anyway, but gravity seems heavier on our shoulders now. We’re lucky, so far. My income is still stable for now, but we’ve taken a hit. Every trip to the grocery store, I’m wondering if I should bring a mask. I don’t have a good one yet, and I keep my distance. The lines are long, the toiletries are gone.
J has had to sleep on the couch to keep the triggers from being bad, something we’re hoping the new scripts take care of. But the adjustment is awful. My own scripts… I don’t know how well they’re working. Still takes me forever to fall asleep, even in bed. I don’t know if it’s a comfort or a shared sadness that I know I’m not the only one.
So I turn on an app that plays the sounds of rain and storms. I miss her, it sucks sleeping alone.
A year ago, I took the bandages off the staples in my knee, after the blowout. I posted a recovery picture and thought maybe put it here, because why not. I’m still writing, I’ll get back to it. Between GR and Robyn (still need a better title), I’ve got plenty I can do.
Yoga, elastic bands, and the recumbent bike have helped, but I haven’t done it consistently.

Lookout, the picture is kind of brutal. I’ve probably got 60% of function back, but the strength is just… gone. 30 pounds of weight loss probably included a lot of atrophy. Hopefully this year is the year I get the strength back.

3.30.20 - #corona2020 V

Is there anyone sleeping well anymore?
Either the brain is rolling a thousand miles
An hour, in the haunted still of night
Or the walls are too tight and we’re desperate for daylight
I don’t remember the last time I laid my head down
And felt rested the next morning, renewed
We’re sitting on our hands, trying to pass the time
Reflecting on all our mistakes, all the lies

It’s been hard to be productive. I’ve gotten the job done, now thankful that I have a steady income when one out of five has filed for unemployment, including J. Trying to do yoga in the sunroom followed by elliptical bands and the recumbent bike lying in the garage, just to move a little during the week. Hoping I can find a bit of drive to really edit GR and work on the Robyn story. Need something to do, to feel useful.

J seems to have gotten L to a place where she’s a little more stable. We’re still a long way from out of the woods yet, but every day is a won day. Even when the world outside is falling into a recession unlike anything ever seen in modern history, due to a viral pandemic and a political narrative out of a Michael Chrichton novel. D is coughing less, thankfully we don’t think anyone has COVID but since there’s still not a real chance of us getting tested in our current condition, we’re just riding out the storm.

Thankful for little moments, like D winning at Cards Against Humanity. Chasing Janeway in the backyard. Playing Diablo with J at three in the morning, dancing in the living room during dinner.