Cookala's In Just Under the Wire

[PClem]

Really enjoyed Back Bay and Beach Walk. Lots of wisdom in these.

[kristalynn]

These last three are wonderful poems. Love the opening of The Future, and the closings of the first two. Really strong.

[Janet]

Hi Cookie- you are a kaleidoscope swath. How fortunate that you're a poet and you can make art of your longing and grief. Connected with the N's voice, the deep contemplation, the sense of being let in on a life review. Beach Walk and The Future especially stood out.

[cookala]

*sigh* I am just having such a tough go this year - my concentration is just not there, nor is my memory -(I think maybe the chemo did that, even though I haven't had a treatment for almost a year now, but who knows...) which make it hard for me to read anything at length, hence my lack of fluffing y'all this year. I'll try to read some poems and by the third one I'm wiped out, which really sucks because I know I'm missing a lot of good poems! for everyone whom I've not yet visited, my apologies - and also to those of you who have been kind enough to fluff me, my apologies and appreciation. means a lot.

thanks to 5th, PClem, kristalynn and Janet - thanks you guys, really appreciate you stopping by again!

[cookala]

April 24

Decisions

sometimes
it just
comes
down
to which pair
of socks
to pick

and

does it really matter
if
your undies
are not
color coordinated
with your
pants?

*sigh*

life
is just
too cluttered
with decisions
waiting
to be
made



.

[5th column]

Decisions! A poem that made me laugh out loud I liked the structure, the short lines making it feel as though I was listening in to a real internal dialogue

[Arlene]

The walks by the beach, the melancholia, the pallette you are painting is inspiring, how you struggle on, and yes, this last, the shorter phrasing, honest and just as heartfelt and no it doesn't matter if your socks match xo

[Dunc]

Cookie

Parting Thoughts — as we redefine our lives and ourselves / and move on — yup, that happens to us all, and more than once, and not only with love. Thoughtful evocation.

Spent — a desolate poem, especially the last verse.

Beach Walk — That's nice change from the word 'gray' in your poems, some attractive and positive images. Nice to read.

Off the Ledge — Ah, me bold Cookie, leave jumping off ledges to the stockbrokers and stick to fine dining! I speak as a friend.

Spent (II) — while terror tinged thoughts / bode an uncertain doom Why, Edgar Allen himself couldn't have put it plainer! I like the last three lines best.

The Future — too stubborn to succumb —, yeah, go, girl!

Decisions — Yah got a laugh out of me there. I can only speak for myself but I suspect not many other blokes spend a lot of time colour-coordinating their undies.

Regards / Dunc

[kristalynn]

So true about decisions!! I crave simplicity.

[cookala]

5th - thank you! I was hoping it had that effect - glad you enjoyed!

[cookala]

Arlene - thank you somuch - I really appreciate all your visits and thoughts - means a lot!

[cookala]

Dunc - you are the best! thank you!!!! so much for all the reading and comments and visits - means so much!

[cookala]

kristalynn! thank you so much, for all you visits and comments and support - means a lot!

[cookala]

April 25

The Woman Who Loved Things

She learned to love things while still a child;
the pretty glitter of a crystal gem, splotches
of lavender heath spotting the moor in spring,
the pet dog sprawled faithfully at her feet
warming itself by the hearth; but not people,
as people were full of empty words and deeds.

She learned how to live in the absence of love,
forsook all feelings as she rose above
her needs, utterly condemned, bleeding blood
from tears as the years crawled past in her barren life.
She was alone like no other, a wasted wretch
who prayed for an early death as a blessed relief.



.

[cookala]

ok, now for yet more durm and strang and darkness - seems like all I can write lately. thank God it's all conjecture!

April 26



Internal

Darkest are the hours before the dawn
when buried memories unearth
and you realize where you belong
if you harken to what’s unsaid;

the things that are hard to admit
creep quietly along the ledge
and threaten to careen over it
and cascade into your tidy world,
upturn the pegs
in your round and square life
before you’ve a chance to accept
the facade of who you are;
and when you dare to look
at your naked self in the mirror
it reflects only the scars.

Disappointment settles in
like an old friend come to squat
so you pretend
as you close your eyes, once again,
that all is as it all should be
and try to enter the aether of sleep

and pray that the glaring light of a new sun
will finally strike you blind.



.