by the amusing Ms. Parker

 Razors pain you  rivers are damp  acid stains you  and drugs cause cramp  guns aren't lawful  nooses give  gas smells awful  you might as well live

Wordgirl,<br> &nbsp; &nbsp; And who said depressives have no sense of<br>humor!! &nbsp;I've always thought this Dorothy Parker<br>piece was clever.

Wordgirl,I love Dorothy Parker.  Despite her tragic life, she wrote such amusing (and sometimes sad) poetry.This is one of my favorites -- thanks for sharing it.

You have brains in your head.You have feet in your shoes.You can steer yourself any direction you choose.You're on your own. And you know what you know.And YOU are the one who'll decide where to go....

OH! THE PLACES YOU'LL GO!

You'll be on your way up!You'll be seeing great sights!You'll join the high flierswho soar to high heights.

You won't lag behind, because you'll have the speed. You'll pass the whole gang and you'll soon take the lead.Wherever you fly, you'll be best of the best.Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.

~~~ Dr Seuss AKA Theodor Seuss Geisel

Mary,<br> &nbsp; &nbsp; I love Dr. Seuss!!! &nbsp;You reminded me &nbsp;I<br>should check out the Dr. Seuss museum in <br>Springfield, Mass. &nbsp;I think I read my children most<br>of the Dr. Seuss books, because I enjoyed them so<br>much.

My mother in law wrote this poem years ago.  I love it and and today is certainly the day to share it!  It has been published in more than one local paper.  Happy Halloween!

   "Goblins Roam Tonight!"

Weird and fiery pumpkin facesAppear in strange and eerie placesAnd every house turns on porch lightFor goblins roam the streets tonight.

Monsters, Pirates, stark white bonesOf Skeletons, tonight will roamEach with a sack clutched tight in handTo scare me with a fierce command.

The doorbell rings, I feel a chillThe knees they shake, and won't be stillI open door to take a peekAs each one threatens "Trick or Treat".

Each Halloween that I recallI've made a hundred popcorn ballsThen rushed through dinner, stuck with gooTo pass out treats and hear "Thank you".

It's late and dark, they disappearNot to return until next yearBack to their homes from whence they've comeTo gorge and count the bubble gum.

Transformed, they all get into bedTo place on pillows, sleepy headsAnd in each Monster's fearful placeThere sleeps a smiling Angel face.

Mildred R. Taylor, Copyright

I love this part of the poem, and it makes me realize how we can take our environment and the simple gifts for granted.

e. e. cummings

i thank You God most for this amazingday: for the leaping greenly spirits of treesand a blue true dream of sky: and for everythingwhich is natural which is infinite which is yes

SLOW DANCE

Have you ever watched kids

On a merry-go-round?

Or listened to the rainSlapping on the ground?Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight?Or gazed at the sun into the fading night?

You better slow down.Don't dance so fast.Time is short.The music won't last.

Do you run through each dayOn the fly?When you ask How are you?Do you hear the reply?

When the day is doneDo you lie in your bedWith the next hundred choresRunning through your head?

You'd better slow downDon't dance so fast.Time is short.The music won't last.

Ever told your child,We'll do it tomorrow?And in your haste,Not see his sorrow?

Ever lost touch,Let a good friendship dieCause you never had timeTo call and say, "Hi"

You'd better slow down.Don't dance so fast.Time is short.The music won't last.

When you run so fast to get somewhereYou miss half the fun of getting there.When you worry and hurry through your day,It is like an unopened gift....Thrown away.

Life is not a race.Do take it slowerHear the musicBefore the song is over.

--TomO

Just wanted to share this one that I got from a friend.

Below is a wonderful poem. Audrey Hepburn wrote it when she was asked to share her "beauty tips." It was read at her funeral years later.

For attractive lips, speak words of kindness. For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people. For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry. For beautiful hair, let a child run his/her fingers through it once a day. For poise, walk with the knowledge that you never walk alone. People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed; never throw out anyone. Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you will find one at the end of each of your arms. As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands; one for helping yourself, and the other for helping others.

That is lovely Nita I like this one, which a friend sent me when my friend Lynne died last year

Do not stand at our grave's and weep.> We are not there, We do not sleep.> We are a thousand winds that blow,> We are the diamond glints on snow.> We are the sunlight on ripened grain,> We are the gentle autumn's rain.> When you awaken in the morning's hush,> We are the swift uplifting rush> of quiet birds in circled flight.> We are the stars that shine at night.> Do not stand at our grave's and cry,> We are not there, We did not die.

I wrote this poem for my oldest son when he was very small..he's 24 in March and getting married...I just dont' know where the time has gone..I can't read this poem now without tearing up everytime...I hope you enjoy it...

             MY SON

cuddly and softwarm and sweetlove at first sightthe moment we meet

tousled dark headcute dimpled smileindigo eyesthat capture, beguile

Wiggling, gigglingrunning at playangel when sleepingdevil by day

growing so biggoing to schoolhanging out with the guystrying to act cool

becoming a mantaking a wifebut he'll be my little boyall of his life

by carol sands

That's really nice, Carol, I understand those sentiments

Thanks Beth...my mother just passed away last May so I was hesitant to read the poem you had posted prior to mine...but I just did and I'm glad I did...it kind of gives comfort you know.  I hope you have a meno symptom free day...

By the way, my niece is a Gemini..Jun 17...what's yours?  I'm Cancer....Jul 17...

Hi Carol Ann. Yes, I understand, it makes me cry when I read it also, but it is kind of comforting. I am sorry you lost your Mom, that must be a really big loss in your life.I am Gemini yes, June 10th, and one of my daughters is Cancer like you, July 10th!Have a good day

2tfruity, Having three boys I can so relate. I feel like I blinked my eyes and my eldest is 16. I just don't know where the time went. Your words are so lovely. If I could write I would have loved to say what you did in poem. You should be proud,I'm sure your son is a good man. Good luck to him and you and Peace Cabo .

I have three young boys, and sometimes I just look at them in wonderment, how I can come to shape these three young beings into full grown men one day! I thought I'd share this with you, it is really beautiful.

"CHILDREN"And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said,Speak to us of Children.And he said:Your children are not your children.They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.They come through you but not from you. And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.You may give them your love but not your thoughts.For they have their own thoughts.You may house their bodies but not their souls,For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.The Archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,And He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.Let your bending in the Archer's hand be for gladness;For even as He loves the arrow that flies,so He loves also the bow that is stable.

From " The Prophet" By Kahlil Gibran (1183 -1931)

Gemini, Cabo and Premie,

Thanks for your kind words...lovely poem too Premie....I never had daughters, but lots of nieces, but I wouldn't trade my boys for anything.  They are such good kids and have always been very loving to me.  I am close to them both...my youngest til last year would pratically sit on top of me and he is now 15.   My oldest started having panic attacks this past summer and as I suffer from them too, it has made us even closer.  It breaks my heart that he is going through that now, but he was very close to my mom, he was just graduated college in December and he is getting married. Too many important things all at once...mental illness is so strong on my mothers side of the family.  It's just so hard for a man though as they are suppose to be strong.

Well I'm rambling...I wish you all meno free days...hugs...

These are collected from various forwarded emails, so, as far as I can tell, they're anonymous.  I posted the first two on another board, and Helen suggested I post them here, too.

~~~~~~~~~~

Internet Friends

Nobody else has ever touched my life the way you have.Even though our friendship exists through a complicated mesh of wires, It means the world to me. Hearing from you brightens up my day And your kindness never fails to bring a smile to my face. I love you for all that you are, And all that yet remains a mystery to meAlthough I "speak" through the computer, My words come from the heart.True friendship is hard to find But I believe that I've found it in you.

~~~~~~~~~~

Friends Without Faces

We sit and we type and we stare at our screens We all have to wonder, what this possibly means. We chat with each other, we share all our woes,Small groups we do form and gang up on our foes. We wait for somebody to type out our name, We want recognition and offer the same. We give kisses and hugs and sometimes we flirt, In rooms we chat deeply and reveal why we hurt. We form friendships but why is a thing we don't know, Though most of them flounder some flourish and grow. Why is it that on a screen, we can all be so bold, Telling our secrets that have never been told? Why is it we share those deep thoughts in our mind With those we can't see, as though we were blind? The answer is simple, it's as clear as a bell. We all have our problems and need someone to tell. We can't tell "real" people, but tell someone we must So we turn to the 'puter, and those we can trust, Even though it is crazy, the truth still remains, They are friends without faces and with odd little names.

~~~~~~~~~~

Online Friend

I have a little group of friends, As dear as they can be. I love them all, but sad to say, Most I'll never get to see. The only claim I have is that When I feel sad, alone or blue, I get on line, Play wav's and chat. And maybe find someone who feels it too. They give love And support, Opinions and such, Which I can take or ponder much, But...sometimes I round a bend And Lo!! I'll make a brand new friend. Feel bad, or sad? Just plain sick? Got an attitude or habit You want to kick? "Its ok", your friends will say, "We've all been there before, A time or two, just like you. We know the ups, the downs, The highs, the lows, The "I-could-kill-that-so-n-so's". The pain and strain, Of getting through The leave-takings without adieu. We've seen it all, the been-theres done-thats, We've worn all the different hats, That makes us each uniquely "us", And when we want to make a fuss, We come online and find The equalizers, The friends, who become our sympathizers, Who know, And feel, And wish, And pray, When you both know there is nothing more to say-- But an online friend Will say it anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~

Unseen Friend

Although you are a friend of mine and letters we exchange, I wouldn't know you on the street, and doesn't that seem strange. You hold a place within my life unusual and unique; We share ideals and special dreams, and still, we do not speak. I picture what I think you are, perhaps you picture me. An intriguing game for both of us for someone we can't see. So for this friendship we possess, we owe this mail a debt, Perhaps the charm lies in the fact that we have never met.

Richard Cory<p>Whenever Richard Cory went down town,<br>We people on the pavement looked at him:<br>He was a gentleman from sole to crown,<br>Clean favored, and imperially slim.<p>And he was always quietly arrayed.<br>And he was always human when he talked,<br>But still he fluttered pulses when he said.<br>&quot;Good morning,&quot; and he glittered when he walked.<p>And he was rich---yes, richer than a king--<br>And admirably schooled in every grace:<br>In fine we thought that he was everything<br>To make us wish that we were in his place.<p>So on we worked, and waited for the light,<br>And went without the meat, and cursed the bread:<br>And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,<br>Went home and put a bullet through his head.<p>Edwin Arlington Robinson

ChrisCarol,

Thanks for posting one of my favorite poems! It so aptly illustrates how deceiving outward appearances can be. We so often think that everyone else seems to be so "together," when, in reality, "The mass of men lead lives of quietdesperation."

One day last February, looking out on a dreary, gray day, I was feeling particularly depressed and wrote this blank verse poem.

PROMISED BLOSSOMS

Weeping winds pelt sleet on naked dogwoods,wrapping icy fingers over branches.Buoyant once, limbs droop in resignation,eyes cast downward, dripping frozen teardrops.

Through her veins, the living sap lies dormant;burdened heart is locked, its laughter absent.Fear swells quickly from her core and trembles,trapped beneath unyielding crystal layers.

Strings of hope loop warmth along her pathways,slowly thaws the grip despair possesses.Sparrows' lyric sweetness melts the stratum,sows her boughs with seeds that promise blossom.

(copyright T. Freeman, 2/03)  

Oops, I think I posted this in the wrong topic.  Should I have posted it in "Poetry and Other Self-Expression"?  If so, perhaps a moderator could do their magic thing and move it?  Thanks much!  :)

RedFox

For Alissa

You came into this world in a moment of excruciating physical pain coupled with indescribable joy. I couldn't push you out, my entire body was numb, except for my heart, which I thought would explode with the beauty of you. I held my breath while I waited for your first cry, proof that you weren't a figment of my imagination.

They held you up for a moment as you wriggled with the shock of being pulled into a world so different from the warm, safe haven you were used to. You were wet with my blood, your hair slick with it, and you were the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen. Your first cries touched my soul, and tears filled my eyes  so that I could barely see you.

As they took you away I felt the first pain of loss, you had been in my womb for 37 weeks, nurtured and nourished from within. I would never again feel your kicks and punches against my ribs as you practiced and strengthened your body inside of mine.

You were separate from me for the first time, vulnerable to the world and it's dangers, no longer blinded to the outside. I struggled to sit up and watch them clean the remnants of me from you,mourning and rejoicing simultaneously from the delivery table.

I could see you flailing in protest, I wonder if you knew these people were strangers? Were your cries prompted by the cold, or did you miss me with your newborn mind? Were you experiencing your first feelings of loneliness, or did you sense my own sadness? Did you miss me as I missed you?

Oh, how I loved you as they gave you to  me to hold, wrapped up in a blanket, with your eyes swollen from the trauma of your birth. Precious was the first word that popped into my joy befuddled mind, followed by...mine.

My daughter. My blood. My heart. My soul.

I marveled over the ten little toes that would someday carry you away from me. I counted your fingers on the hand that I would hold in mine on your first day of school, the hands that would someday hold my grandchildren. Your mouth, so tiny and innocent, would nurse from my breast, from the rosebud lips you would utter your first words, your first no.

Your face, etched in perfection was solemn as you studied me studying you. I wonder if you felt my joy. We made a connection, my precious gift from God, when you were but minutes old, a bond that would outlast my life on this earth.

My influence on you would be profound, unlike any other in your life, my responsibility to you immense. I felt this much wanted burden as I watched you close your eyes, tired from the arduous journey from my womb. Little did you know that you were on the first road of many that you would travel in your lifetime.

I watched them take you to NECU to poke and prod, to your first physical pain. My heart squeezed in grief as they took you from my arms, the physical separation complete.

For the second time in as many minutes you were not within a casual pat on my extended belly, you were your own person.

I said a silent prayer for your safety, one of many to be uttered from my being on your behalf... and mine.

©Vicki Gladden October 23 1996

Sweet Summer Breezes

With a mixture of pride and sadness I'm watching my son warm up for his baseball game.

It's cooler now, the sun is down and the humidity is tamed somewhat by a cool breeze.

The only sounds are of the night, a distant train and the sounds of bats connecting with baseballs.

The crowd is silent. Perhaps my mood is one shared by the people around me.

Regardless of the reasons, the quiet is both comforting and isolating.

This column is intensely personal for one specific reason--I have no right to privacy or pride, for if I hide I help nobody.

I have always found myself able to express myself with words, regardless of topic. I believe I was given this gift to provide humor and provoke thought.  Words allow me to be very honest and down to Earth and this is no different.

I have cancer.

Cervical cancer to be exact.

There is no evidence that it has spread; therefore I have no true reason to worry.

But I do.

I will have my  (as my youngest son has named them) "Mommy parts" taken out on June 11, 2002.  

Those parts will be cut apart to be examined by people trained to do so with no emotional fanfare.

I hope they will at least hum Stairway to Heaven as they dispose of my "Mommy parts" in whatever way they will. Led Zeppelin blasting it out of a boom box would be even better.

I mourn them already.  I carried five children in this womb and it seems it deserves more of a send off.

The point of this column is to remind you all of the importance of annual pap smears. It's only been 5 years since my last one and it's too late.

While a hysterectomy is not the end of the world and will hopefully save my life, it's inexcusable that I could have prevented the need for one.

Don't wait until it's too late.  Don't assume you are fine until you are not.

If you do you might find yourself sitting by a baseball field isolated by cancer and the fear that comes with the very word while asking yourself, "Is this the last baseball game I'll see?"

As I sit here, breathing in the sweet night air I feel an ache that I'm unable to describe.

Maybe it's gratitude. Or fear. Or a mixture of both.

I have been so blessed. Life has not been easy but it's been fruitful.

I don't want to leave this life with my babies not raised.  I want to wear the flowers they give me in my hair.

I want to see them graduate.

I don't want to miss their nasty Cheerio burps their stinky shoes and the bickering that drives me crazy.

Because they are what I brought to this Earth.  They are my best contribution. The best I'll ever accomplish or could ever wish to.

I want to argue with my husband and call him names when he sweats all over my pillows at night. I want to feel the unconditional love we have grown and nurtured in our fifteen years together.

I'm afraid.

While I know I'll be fine, my heart hurts.

Because I want to prevent this for other women, I'm willing to endure the glances from strangers--for them to know my secret.

I also want to add that what my son calls my "Mommy parts" are in fact just organs that allowed me the honor to conceive and carry my children.

My true "Mommy parts" are my heart, mind and soul.

And the above is what will follow through generations.

Get your pap smears. Get your mammograms.

Never forget.

And with each clean test may you have the privilege of a sweet summer breeze.

© Vicki Gladden 6/4/02

Wow, those posts from Vickie are awesome. Bless you Vickie where-ever you are... Now on to my problems... which suddenly seem a lot smaller. I've been feeling sick and strange lately. I don't know where to turn. I guess I'll figure that out. Here's a poem (song) about adversity. It Ain't Easy - David Bowie When you climb to the top of the mountain Look out over the sea Think about the places perhaps, where a young man could be Then you jump back down to the rooftops Look out over the town Think about all of the strange things circulating round It ain't easy, it ain't easy It ain't easy to get to heaven when you're going down Well all the people have got their problems That ain't nothing new With the help of the good Lord We can all pull on through We can all pull on through Get there in the end Sometimes it'll take you right up and sometimes down again It ain't easy, it ain't easy It ain't easy to get to heaven when you're going down Satisfaction, satisfaction Keep me satisfied I've got the love of a Hoochie Koochie woman She calling from inside She's a-calling from inside Trying to get to you All the woman really wants you can give her something too It ain't easy, it ain't easy It ain't easy to get to heaven when you're going down It ain't easy, it ain't easy It ain't easy to get to heaven when you're going down

As I was walking I came across someone I knew and of course I asked him how he was.....well, he proceeded to tell me that he had all these problems and told me he wished he had no problems and in hearing this I told him.....You know,there's a place not far from here and all the residents havn't got a problem between them.....he got noticably excited and insisted I tell him where this problem free place was as he would like to go there.....I pointed to the cemetery just up the street and said...over there my friend....everyone in there is problem free....and therefore, I would say that having problems is a sure sign of life.........or somthin to that effect ~ Dr Norman Vincent Peele 1940's -50's

"It is raining still. Maybe it is not one of those showers that is here
one minute and gone the next, as I had so boldly assumed. Maybe none of
them are. After all, life in itself is a chain of rainy days. But there
are times when not all of us have umbrellas to walk under. Those are the
times when we need people who are willing to lend their umbrellas to a
wet stranger on a rainy day. I think I'll go for a walk with my
umbrella."
~Sun Yun Park~