Sentence Without Reprieve
On days like this I wonder why, why I crawled put of the slime,
simply sleeping my life away seems such a waste of time,
such a pointless existence such a futile attempt.
There's no-one here to know or care whether the place is unkempt
whether I bother to dress myself, whether I eat or drink
if I have energy enough to rouse myself to think.
It wasn't always this way; once I had a life
those days were filled with doing, with laughter or with strife.
Now that energy is scarce life often seems too hard,
it's a rare and precious commodity, something I jealously guard
but on days like this when sleep is all, all that I can achieve
I wonder how I'll ever survive this sentence without reprieve.
© 2002
Brain Fog.
I forget to pay my bills, I forget to take my pills,
I forget to clean my teeth and brush my hair;
Most mornings I get changed into clothes however strange,
Though some days I'm too tired to even care.
I forget to clean or dust, though who's to say I must
When there's no-one here to notice anything?
And last month I forgot to arrange my bulbs in pots,
So I won't have any flowers in the spring.
I forget to make a drink, leave my dishes in the sink;
I forget about the toast under the grill;
And although it may seem crazy, my brain is just so hazy
I forget to ring the doctor when I'm ill!
I struggle through the days, my thoughts a misty haze,
Trying to make sense of why I'm here.
My children rarely call, one never does at all,
And yet I feel I ought to persevere.
I rarely leave the house, I'm as quiet as a mouse,
So people rarely notice me at all;
The postman calls of course; the aggravating source
Of piles and piles of junk mail in the hall.
No-one bothers me, so I read or watch TV,
I write to penfriends, paint; and stuff like that;
And sometimes when I'm sad, or the pain is really bad,
I go to bed and snuggle with my cat.
And now it's mid November, and I hope I can remember
To send a birthday card that's almost due.
It's for my grandson, Kain; I can't forget again,
He'll think I just don't care - and that's not true.
It's just that I forget. I wish that I could get
A brain that functions normally, you know.
And while I'm asking, please - some brand new batteries;
So I won't be such a sad old so-and-so.
© 2003
Climbing Everest With Shakespeare.
As I lie here on my bed I wonder what the future holds;
resting gets so boring when even reading wears you out.
I have a radio of course though interference ruins it.
When sorrows come they come not single spies but in battalions.
Just getting up to feed the cat is something of a challenge.
That it should come to this...
Imagine climbing Everest, that should give you some idea.
A horse! A horse! My Kingdom for a horse!
Then back upstairs to bed and back to boring nothingness;
to die, to sleep; to sleep, perchance to dream...
Later on I'll go online and chat or write a bit.
O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
This world wide web is such a boon.
I like this place and willingly could waste my time in it.
© 2003