the damn thing
about tears of joy is
when you have
tired eyes
those unexpected
happy tears
sting and burn
just like when
your heart
was hurting
as they fall
ouch
© Turquoise Tangles
Month: December 2011
Listening for footsteps
The house is quiet,
Except for the noises normally gone unheard,
And your muted footsteps from below.Separated momentarily by a dream,
I strain to determine your path.From the pace and intensity
I hear your determination.A determination to strike out in a new direction.
A direction forty years in the making.And while my heart stands by you,
In encouragement,
In love,
In hope,I long to hear the sound of your footsteps
Making their way back to my side…
I love you. ~ Me
A Clarity of Conscious: Mixed emotions
in the waiting room now,
Among the sick and diseased,
A group I would have never felt so close to
Even six months ago.Now waiting patiently, on hold so to speak,
Until the surgeon clears me.
Clears me for a continuation of chemo.Poison, not enough to kill the body (hopefully),
But enough…
In his own words, as he calls the chemotherapy poison, and talks about our HOPE for the future. Together. ~ Janean
today is the day
today is the day
that chemo starts again
not for me
for him
I am writing about burnt toast
and brightly colored socks
because it’s easier
to be chatty
about breakfast
and strands of cotton
than the unknown force
that six months of chemo
will be in my husband’s body
we all feel the apprehension
inside this house
we go together
at 12:30 p.m.
today is the day
Ugh.
© Turquoise Tangles
If we’re going to solve the problems of the world, we have to learn how to talk to one another. Poetry is the language at its essence. It’s the bones and the skeleton of the language. It teaches you, if nothing else, how to choose your words.
Rita Dove (via pavorst)
Staying up late, making art for a one day show on Wednesday. As in, The Day After Tomorrow, on December 14, 2011. My silly striped socks make me grin every time I catch a glimpse of them. ~ Janean
Dreams are just stars we hang in our skies only so we have something to look up at.
(via autumndragonfly)
Dear Old Reliable,
We are so glad you are once again in charge of turning our buttercrust wheat bread into toast of a morning.
There will be a lot less cussing, growling and stomping about with you back on the counter.
Where you belong.
Yes, I got the message.
Loud and clear.
You may be going’ on fifteen, but you still “got it”.
Even if you aren’t as curvaceous and chromey as my attempt at replacement.
Please forgive me.
I was an idiot.
You are a charming wedding gift and I won’t banish you again…or loan you to my mother.
Please keep up the good work.
Today’s toast was lovely.
Sincerely,
The Lady of the House
I banished the new(er) toaster today.
It’s been a long time in coming.
You saw the charred black toast from Saturday.
On Sunday, this temperamental toaster burned all four slices of bread placed within the glowing coils.
Grrrrrrrrrrrr
Time is up.
That was your last chance…for now.
You are awesome at bagels.
We’ll get you down from the cabinet above the refrigerator, never never land, for toasting them.
Goodbye for now.
Consider yourself banished.
A Clarity of Conscious: Still the same, and yet…
In late spring I was just as you are,
Carefree,
Optimistic,
Joyful,
Normal,
Unremarkable.And then, in less time than it takes to speak four little words,
I changed.“I think it’s cancer”.
Such a simple statement,
And yet one that continues to reverberate in my mind.Obviously there’s…
I found him…or rather, he found me. When I checked my followers just now there was one more. Number 53. He’d given me the clue that, “of” and “a” were in his Tumblr name. Really helpful, hmmmm? So, when I saw, “A Clarity of Conscious” I knew he was The One. Hello, Honey. I’ll look forward to seeing more of what you write come across my dashboard. Isn’t Tumblr more fun than watchin’ television in your recovery? Love, Me
Turquoise Tangles 