love isn’t holding hands everywhere you go
or roses every February 14th
it’s not kisses that last for hours
or making love every single night
love is not – never disagreeing
or having a fight
love isn’t a fairytale in real life
or else there would never be such a thing
as…
Uncategorized
I traded last night’s mug of herbal decaf tea for a mug o’ coffee this morning. Still waiting for The Jolt Of It to hit my sleepy system. I’m just on the second mug now…maybe third mug is the charm. I even made it A Little Strong (on accident). Morning, All! ~ Janean
tears of joy
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
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
Turquoise Tangles 