Home

It was
a simple door

Her hand shook
as she reached for the knob
and slowly turned

It was just a door

On the other side
she was a stranger
unknown
unseen
in a sea
of clinking glasses
and a cacophony
of voices
sounding
like an unkindness
of ravens
calling insistently
to nonexistent heavens
and then a soft murmur
of dawning acquiescence

She went
unnoticed
ordered a gin
from a bartender
who never quite
met her eye

And yet
she found
she was home
again

***

door from Stratford-upon-Avon just across the road from the Royal Shakespeare Company

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Chemo Blues

Today has been a gruesome one. Day 3 after my third cycle of chemo.

I had to cancel my therapy appointment again:(

Too sick to get out of bed. Even with a reduced chemo dose I’m existing on anti-sickness meds but no mysterious fevers. So there’s that.

What do you do when you’re too sick to get out of bed? You take pics of your loyal and very beautiful Springer Spaniel.

The Spaniel spreading her love like a fever (apologies to BRMC):

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the night moves: Chemo Poetry

the night moves
in endless liquid
in pools of sweat
and suppressed vomit

and repressed dreams
and not quite forgotten
nightmares
and lucky escapes
and disastrous
adventures
and miraculous
rescues

and death
knocking at my door
and love waiting
at my back

and never ending
vistas
of sublime beauty
that take
my breath away
and take up
too much space
in my fevered brow

the night moves
and never stops
with harsh breaths
and soft
almost silent
heartbeats

and dream
after dream
after dream
baptised
in cold sweat

and living
always
more living

11 May 2018

Women of Flash

Ooh. Cool post with cool links to cool flash fiction. I highly recommend this blogger.

Zouxzoux

Now that Napowrimo is over, I’m settling back into my routine of morning online reading. This is my time to look for wonder-full flash and poetry and get lost in other places and other lives. There are many good writers out there but there are also some exceptional ones. Here’s a few of those writers and the stories that graced my recent mornings. I hope you enjoy – no, I know you will!

39C010CF-F2FE-4FEE-85C8-45A0FDF910AF.jpegThe Origin of Silk by Lori Sambol Brody in Gulf Stream Journal. I was completely absorbed in this story – the richness of words and images, the exotic locale, the foreign culture. The subject of kidnapped brides is one I’ve read about in a non-fiction, documentary genre but this little fiction story made it seem more immediate and scarily possible. I just love this story, clearly a favorite for 2018. I’ll be watching and hoping for a…

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More thoughts on blackbirds: Chemo ramblings

I think
but I could be wrong

It’s a hard choice to make

but I think
my favourite thing
about summer
is the sound
of blackbirds
singing
just outside
my bedroom window
early in the morning

They’re nesting
in the plum trees
just across
the road

and in my heart.

10 May 2018

Dance and Fall: Chemo poetry

They gather around
ghosts
and loves
and stars
and Moon

I try
to dance
with them all
stumble
and fall

They falter
and wait
until I can dance
again

and I do

9 May 2018

Chemo Yesterday

Cycle 3 of 6 Chemo treatments happened yesterday morning, although, at a reduced dose.

I don’t know but I’m guessing I won’t feel like making words for awhile.

I don’t feel like making words now.

I don’t know if it’s silly and futile to try to maintain a blog while going through cancer treatment but for the moment I’m trying to persist.

On Tuesday I was in the hospital for pre-chemo blood work.

I’ve recently discovered the poet, Alice Oswald.

While I was waiting I read her poem:

DUNT: A POEM FOR A DRIED-UP RIVER

I like this first verse:

Very small and damaged and quite dry,
a Roman water nymph made of bone
tries to summon a river out of limestone

I like the idea of summoning rivers.

Blessings,

8 May 2018

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