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Posts Tagged ‘poetry’

Mom loves the sound of words and putting words together to rhyme. Me, I love the flow of words and how they can touch your soul.  Mom never forces her words to rhyme.  She is a very good rhyming poet,Padairvanvleck’s Weblog in my humble and unbiased opinion.  But, frankly,  I think that words rhyming is a bit unnatural.

So, this morning I go online and check my Master Daughter’s blog, Braindebris’s Weblog as I do each morning dear, “Where are you?”, and through my head runs, repeatedly:

Well, it was three really good rhyming lines about checking your blog in the morning.  You know, blog-log-sog, I know they were probably award-winning, since I cannot remember a word of them.  But, like a broken record, they were in my brain for way too long.

 Then, I’m looking for my password book (yes, I know, you are not supposed to write them down) and I’m going—

My password book is always lost

 One day it’s here
 The next it’s there
 And some days it’s not anywhere?

And, now I say–

Dr. Seuss, I am not.
If this keeps up
My brain will rot.

P.S.  Maybe it is too late and my brain rotted during the night and all day everything I say will rhyme that way.    HELPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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After a frustrating morning trying to be intelligent serious on my new writing blog,   THOUGHTS IN YELLOWWOOD FOREST , I decided to return to my comfort zone and check out my WordPress Blog for the morning, where I found a comment from Lyda on Pollyanna, linking me to her poem “Shakespeare Rainbow”  Pollyanna’s Blog Poetry Corner « Pollyanna Rainbow Sunshine and the Needles of Doom.   Whew! Take a breath here.

Polyanna dug through the garbage can of search terms, at her Blog, to create artwork. (See link above for full poem) I am particularly taken with the following lines in her poem:

plying hand dye,
dead brain cells

I feel like someone, be it the searcher or Lyda, has seen the inside of my brain. Not a pleasant feat! As I read these lines, I picture all these little threads of hand dyed yarn tangled in the recesses of my dead brain cells. Gosh, is this what happens to a knitter as she ages? Her attic becomes nothing but a tangle of yarn.

Now,  I stand and pronounce to the world. “I have a brain disorder. I see things that no one else sees and I enjoy it.” Yup! That’s right. I enjoy my little visions. My family has puzzled over them for years. They used to be in color. I saw a purple door floating in the air once. Now, they are in black and white.

The other night I turned off my laptop, and before shutting the screen, I was able to watch a cartoon in black and white on the actually blank screen. Usually, this happens at night and I’m wondering if it is a medication causing it. Or, perhaps a flashback from a “medication.”

I wake often during the night and sometimes see little black floating triagles floating through the air. Other times I can lay there and watch a moving cartoon in black and white. Now, if I can just get them to play a cartoon of my book, I’d be all set. At least I don’t hear voices.

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