You were having a stroke - i
did not grasp what was going on you
standing almost half ways up half
ways down the colors what were they
i was frozen both us us staring
woman with parasol behind me
are you drunk she said facing
you and the deli behind you you
leaned shivered dropped your coat
parasol
......
Daybreak until nightfall,
he sat by his wife at the hospital
while chemotherapy dripped
through the catheter into her heart.
He drank coffee and read
the Globe. He paced; he worked
on poems; he rubbed her back
and read aloud. Overcome with dread,
they wept and affirmed
their love for each other, witlessly,
......
WAVING slowly before me, pushed into the dark,
Unseen my hands explore the silence, drawing the bark
Of my body slowly behind.
Nothing to meet my fingers but the fleece of night
Invisible blinding my face and my eyes! What if in their flight
My hands should touch the door!
What if I suddenly stumble, and push the door
Open, and a great grey dawn swirls over my feet, before
......
يومان قد مرا ولم
يدخل طعام في فمي
لا أستطيع أن اقوم
من شديد الألم
وليس من يسأل عما
حل بي من سقم
ولم يكن بين الجميع
من يُرى مكلّمي
وهكذا ظللت
بي ن سقم وسأم
......
WHEN WE MET
----Flowed like the creek which babbled alongside.
WORDS
----Ricocheted like shrapnel around the nauseous confines of the skull I locked myself inside.
WHEN I FELL
----Swirled in the daze of a hued cloud like embers coughed from a campfire.
MY DREAMS
......
WHEN WE MET
----Flowed like the creek which babbled alongside.
WORDS
----Ricocheted like shrapnel around the nauseous confines of the skull I locked myself inside.
WHEN I FELL
----Swirled in the daze of a hued cloud like embers coughed from a campfire.
MY DREAMS
......
At the age of four, I saw perfection. I saw it in the crystal-like tears that ran like a river through my mother's soul. Reality cracked, within a shiny glass, creating reflections of my weak body. At the age of four, I was finally told, "You’ll never be perfect." But then, I realized that perfection is broken. It's fragile, it's weak, it's flawed, and it's beautiful. Tears became my rain. They became my joy. I spent days in hospital rooms while my mother's tears caressed my heart with their perfectly warm hands. Those tears fought with me, fought for me, lived for me, and died for me. At the age of 15, I saw perfection, again. I saw it in tears that broke out of the confines of hazel brown eyes and ran like a heavenly river of honey through the maple-sweet soul of a broken honeycomb. I saw perfection in a cracked looking glass. At last, another portal to the land of rainbows and diamond-white tears. Another girl, my girl. You should see the way she holds me. You should see the way she kisses me. You should see the way she loves me. You should see her. Because then, You would finally understand... that perfection is not perfect... It's more like a cracked diamond, a messy apple-pie, a fading rainbow, a giant spoonful of Nutella, a mother's tears, red petals that roses wear, the smell of freshly shampooed hair. A girl who talks to herself. A girl who talks to my heart. A girl who made me feel like I was four-years-old again. Earth's lucky charm. My baby girl. Lexi. I love you
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Fibromyalgia
Fibromyalgia is an illness that often besets
Women and men who can not help themselves
It's a syndrome that causes great pain and distress
It even causes its victims to feel overwhelmed
And cold damp weather only increases the chance
That muscles will cramp and increase the stress
And though one looks the same at a glance
......
يومان قد مرا ولم
يدخل طعام في فمي
لا أستطيع أن اقوم
من شديد الألم
وليس من يسأل عما
حل بي من سقم
ولم يكن بين الجميع
من يُرى مكلّمي
وهكذا ظللت
بي ن سقم وسأم
......