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death

Highs and lows

Hello everyone, I hope all is well with all you all. This week, ‘The Sick’ paid a visit to us at The Rusty Prose. Yuck, I had to use up some sick time for work and I didn’t get too much done on my little bloggy blog. I couldn’t let that get in the way of making something up for all to read.

It is interesting to go through the hell of Cancer and then the living nightmare that is Chemotherapy, only to get knocked down by a cold or a stomach bug. Yep, a big ol’ man cold stopped me in my tracks, turned me green, made me weak, and a little testy. Yes, I know, oh woe is me, boo hoo hoo, somebody call a whaambulance for me.

Not to get maudlin on everybody, but I think of all the unfortunate souls who lose their lives to one horrific illness or another. As a living member of the Cancer Club, I am all too aware of the frightful situations they go through, or, to change the subject, all the civilians who were knocked out of their beds at 4:AM in Syria to bombs, explosions, and missile strikes. And yet, right now, all I can think about is myself, my sore tummy, runny nose, and lack of energy, because it’s all about me.

Okay, I really am just kidding, I know it’s not all about me. While it is best to think globally, and to think of the well being of humans and animals, one can do well to focus on one’s own health and welfare.

I got dressed for a beautiful walk at sunrise along the lake. I live in a bucolic setting, it has it’s down sides, but it’s so pleasing to live here. I have the day off so I’m spending it reading, writing, and resting. Also, Twittering, blogging and staring out my window. My Pileated Woodpeckers came back today, this is the first time I’ve seen them this year, they’re so big and awesome, I love having them around my place. My Deer family had another set of twins; how many ways can you say cute? I have a large window in front of my writing desk and I get to see all this wild life parade in front of me while I pretend to write.

I’ve stated that I’m using this blog as a means to find my writing voice, grind the rust off my prose and to rediscover my missing wit. Well, today, I seem to be practising my Oxford Comma. Maybe next time I will practice my alliteration on you.

So, how did I do with my Oxford Comma?

Is anybody here abhorrent to alliteration, or find it abominable?

This is all have for today. Today’s post was brought to you by a yucky tummy, the Oxford Comma, some alliteration, and thoughts of peace for the people of Syria.

I wish strength, resilience, and peace for all the people of Syria today.

Death Was Not Pleased

I just found a poem that I wrote six months after my final Chemo treatment. I was still in quite the state, mentally shaken up and physically exhausted. I am proud to say I wrote this with my non-dominant hand. I’ve cleaned it up a bit but this is how I found it, I’ll leave it like this for now, maybe later I’ll do another rewrite but I kind of like it this way, raw.

Death Was Not Pleased

When Saturn devoured his child,
He was unapologetic.
It was out of self preservation.
Death was not pleased.
Death did not make a deal,
With Saturn.
Death left Saturn covered in corruption.

Death was not pleased;
Saturn had devoured his
Own children, each for
Self preservation.
Death witnessed Saturn
Covered in corruption
and did not make time for him.
Death allowed Saturn
To reap what he had sown;
and so now children
Dance on Saturnalia.