From Ruth

Thank you, Debbie, for reminding us about this.  I'm going to put a newer version on one I put one a while back and see if people (if anyone reads this) think it's less confusing.  I used present tense for action on clothesline, past tense for marriage stuff.  Tried to clean it up a little but it's still kind of odd.
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The Physicist on the Hill, a Non-Love Poem

I drape a sweet scented sheet
on the line, and a beetle,
the same gravid shape
as the car of my ex, flops at the top
of the percale, then descends
with a buzz down the edge,

     like Bill's air-cooled Bug, as it rolled
     from the lab's steep-streeted hill

     to our home. Smug with his knack
     for making particles interact,
     Bill treated himself to a splash
     of good country red from France
     to suit the earthy chicken chasseur 
     he taught me to prepare.

     I salted, stirred, and served,
     then dinner devoured,

     he dropped to my limbs,
     slid down my skin,
     his heart not firing sparks enough to kindle
     my body nor warm the cold linen.

As bedclothes flap in the breeze,

the scarab reaches the place where fabric ceases,

scarcely hesitates,
then hastens out of my domain,

     like Bill in his Beetle

     who left me with a recipe
     for fowl and a squeamishness
     about my sheets. 

Dear

Dear

Your eyes so blue that when they meet with mine
I feel a hunger for your lips divine
Your lips so red I can not wait to kiss
You bring my heart a deep and loving bliss

I long to feel your loving heart so near
Come closer I long to hold you dear
I yearn to feel your body next to mine
When we're together feel our stars align

My love for you has grown throughout the years
A love for you is all so strong and clear
Your eyes so blue and when they meet with mine
I feel a hunger for your lips divine   By Debbie Iambic pentameter

The Christmas Room

I live in a Victorian house built in 1885. As do most people, I have bedrooms, bathrooms, a kitchen, a dining room and a living room. In addition, there is an extra room, a huge room, one with no apparent use. This is the room entered from the front porch. It has several unique features. There is a fireplace appearing as old as the house. There are three windows, the center one is a curved glass window. The front door has an etched glass window. As you enter through the front door, there is a smell that is unique to old houses. The doorway to the dining room features an intricately carved wooden accent gracing the top of the doorway. Like the room, it has no apparent use but adds greatly to the beauty and uniqueness of the room. In days past, this was known as gingerbread. The floors are hardwood, as is the large majestic staircase leading to the upstairs. For ten months of the year, the room serves to connect the living room to the dining room, a place to set parcels when entering or leaving through the front door, and to be home to a few pieces of antique furniture adorned with a few decorations from the most recent holiday.

The day after Thanksgiving, the room is transformed to the Christmas Room. Garland graces the stairway, fireplace and doorway. Stockings are hung on the handrail. The curved glass window is outlined with white Christmas lights and becomes a frame for a lit and decorated six foot tree. The tree is carefully decorated with treasures from years past, ornaments that bring back memories of previous holidays. Colored lights illuminate the angel-topped tree. The antiques are covered with decorations of the season including a Christmas village complete with working streetlights. Christmas dolls grace the mantel of the fireplace while Santa and his sleigh adorn the hutch. A manger scene comes to life on an antique sewing machine cabinet. The usual blankets and pillows are replaced with those colored red and green. A small lighted tree overlooks the village with the lighted houses and church. Christmas tins lie under the majestic tree. And bears, bears of every Christmas color perch in every available space. The fireplace glows with the look and feel of warmth. Old fashioned Christmas music is playing more often than it isn't.

To me, the room is magical, perfect for Christmas. It has the look, the sound and the feel of and old fashioned Christmas. The room provides me with a feeling of joy lasting well past the time others have put their decorations away. Taking down the Christmas decorations lends itself to a feeling of sadness until I start looking forward to decorating for next year when I will again have the Christmas Room.

Child of Mine by Debbie

FanStory.com

Child of Mine A warm embrace The feel of your lips on my face The joy of seeing you Brings in the day anew After you have been away It is wonderful to see you today I want to see you play In that carefree, happy way Oh, beautiful child of mine You make my life divine Recognized Author Notes For parents who are separated from their children due to separation or divorce.

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Rose Bud by Debbie

Rose bud

Folded tight

Keeping out

Undesirable feelings

Rose bud

Signs of love

Caring, affection

Remains tightly folded

Rose bud

So precious

Vulnerable

Stays closed

Rose bud

Life here is good

It is safe to

Unlock your petals

Rose bud

Let the world in

Open your petals

To your fragile emotions

Rose bud

No reason not

To spread your petals

Enjoy life

Rose bud

You are valued

Unlock your petals

Reveal the beauty within

This is Ruth speaking

Okay, Rachael, I made a few changes, didn't follow too much of advice.  I know, kill your darlings; for Mel, make clear, but what can I say?   I'm too attached to old version?

I may use this for my once-a-month poetry group Wednesday and probably can't print it after that morning fairly early, so if anyone sees it before then, please don't put off commenting.

I rewrote last stanza more than once.  Have more versions, put in the most complicated and the simplest with a little "or" in between.  One better than the other?  I guess I like the sounds of the longer one but the rhythm probably stinks.  I should read out loud a couple of time.  Anyway, here is rewrite number one:

        RESEARCH 
 

She's plump and comfy as a German dumpling,

this issue of the West Rhine with fine flaxen

hair flying behind her like diaphanous

wings as she moves through the mosquito lab.

She pins a female under the microscope,

observes the scalloped abdomen swell until

the insect can't stand on its spindly legs;

it sinks into a satisfied stupor,

ending its whiny buzz and edgy urge to fly.                                       

Now it's time: The student grips her scalpel

and pulls apart the culex, probing tissue

for a mark of dark-stained strains of the West Nile.

Later, in her fevered bed, her lover's

limbs lay her flat.  After she feasts

and her abdomen fills with his fluids,

after glut and gratitude make her legs weak,

he rises and returns to his little family. Then the slump,

the dent in her soft mattress. Sinking in, she carves

stinging scrolls on her arm. In the erupting red,

will she find the radix of this toxic coupling?

or

he rises and returns to his little family. Then

she slumps into her soft mattress, carves

stinging scrolls on her arm. In the erupting red,

will she find the radix of this toxic coupling?

Mental Health

Are my thoughts spinning?

Am I up all night?

How do I know I'm doing well?

I've taken my medications every day for the last two weeks.

My mood has been stable.

I've gotten to my appointments and had to make bus arrangements for them.

I've stopped drinking coffee two weeks ago.

I drink tea as a caffeine substitute.

Despite having less caffeine I'm grateful for energy without a let down afterward.

I'm consistently having energy throughout the day.

Does my mind feel like it's going to explode?

Can I stay in bed throughout the night?

Do I have any symptoms ?