Poetry anyone?

Thanks for bumping this up...Isn't poetry a wonderful means of expression?



I haven't been inspired to write a poem in the past few days...but my Dad's gal is a published travel writer, and she's been sharing my stuff with her friends. One of them publishes an annual anthology of erotic stories called HotFlashes. Diane wants me to turn my Ode to My Body into a story and submit it.

I've been working on that little gem for the past few days and have to say, I'm thinking it isn't too bad.

I incorportated the words of my husband into the story at the end...he wrote the most beautiful email response to my poem after I sent it to him, and they worked well in the story.

SIS Kimberly

Interesting you should mention artist...I included imagery of artists in my story. That is great about your college friend publishing her own poetry... Since I just shaved my head yesterday...or had it shaved is more like it...I'm thinking a poem about baldacious baldness might be in order. Hmmm...I'll have to think on that.



SIS KImberly

OK, so here's the Baldacious Babe poem.



Baldacious Babe With Balditude 1/29/08



You know, I didn’t really care

when I found out I would lose my hair

I knew it was only temporary and

no, there is not one reason to get upset.



I rather liked the novel notion

of only needing soothing lotion

on my newly baby bare legs, since

no shaving would be required.



The very thought of no hair was sublime

just thinking about how much time

I would save every morning with

no blow drying or styling.



The reality came in only eleven days

and in such unexpected ways,

for at first my hair leapt unannounced

no real traces to be found, but feeling thinner.



On day eight, my sore scalp threw off strands;

they came out right in my hands!

It wasn’t a lot, but Wow

no denying my hair was a changin’



The very next day, a wig would be found

to wear out on occasions when my bald mound

might be ‘out of place’, or I just wanted to look HOT!

No reason to limit my head covering potential.



On day eleven, hair now everywhere, we did the big shave.

What a blast we had; my Mohawk was all the rave!

The star of Hoshalls Salon for at least the day;

no way they’ll soon forget that crazy lady's new do.



I feel strangely empowered and wonderfully free

like I have broken a stereotype I had of me

I am not my breasts, nor my hair.

No, those things are not what matters!



It’s my confidence. My boldly looking Cancer in the eye

And saying with conviction, “I don’t even care why”

What I know is I am gonna kick your sorry behind,

NO mercy granted, ‘cause I’m one baldacious babe with baldtitude.



Yep, having a new Balditude is what matters!



SIS Kimberly

If you'ld like to share...please feel free to share those here. SIS Kimberly

Darya and Angie- Thank you so much for posting such beautiful poetry.  I love the message that Wild Geese offers about not needing to be more than who you are to be apart of the universe we all call home.  The poem in Spanish (thank you for translating) also a gift of the unexpected miracles like a rose in winter can be.

I have finally finished chemo as of a week ago (WhooHoo), and had been unable to really get the creative juices flowing as far as poetry. Through this journey, I've been doing a lot of self reflection, which I have always done, just not as intensely as now, with the time I've been given to do so.  It was so perfect that Oprah started promoting A New Earth at this time in my life, which inspired the following.

My Story

My Story had me believing all kinds of things about myself that weren’t true, things like I was nothing without it.

My Story had me believing that everything was fine, that I was comfortable, and made sure I knew when that comfort zone was being invaded.

My Story had me hold it up as my shield to defend myself against those, My Story told me were ‘picking on you’ or ‘trying to discount you’.

My Story had me convinced that I was in the right, and that everyone else was wrong if they didn’t agree with me, because ‘if they don’t agree with you, they are invalidating you,’ My Story insisted.

My Story had me hide deep inside a dark cave when I started to ask questions, ‘to keep you safe,’ My Story cooed softly. I would lay there feeling sorry for myself, feeling life had done me wrong, and My Story would stroke my hair and weave elaborate tales.

My Story pushed me to manipulate others with the details and to feel better than because ‘you have the right to do whatever it takes to meet your needs and get what you deserve,’ My Story encouraged.

My Story used me to keep it strong, while stifling me, and causing others pain if need be. My Story was thriving, and I was standing still.

My Story is no longer in control.  I AM!!!!

I have realized that My Story never was ‘me’ or who I was, even though I identified with it so strongly for so long. Not any more, for I have decided that I am worth more than My Story has led me to believe.

My Story, and I do give it total credit for this, brought me to this place of knowing, and for that I am grateful. My Story knows it is no longer in control and sometimes still cries out to be heard, but I am aware of it now and can easily hush it.

I am not My Story, but a Being that is of the one and the same Original Source, the collective universe… whole without My Story!


Here is my new philosophy:

“Right now, at this moment, is all that is known. The past has offered me lessons to learn, and if I didn’t learn them, I know I will be presented with them again, so there is no need to constantly look back to review what was. Looking back only manages to keep me stuck. The future, although alluring, wants to pull me into a void of unknown. Living there will only keep me entangled in the ‘what if’s’ and that is a waste of my precious life energy. There is only the now, where everything is as it should be.  “Now” resides within “known”, so right now, in this present moment, is where I choose to reside.”

SIS Kimberly 

Thanks to Olive, Footsprint, and Farida for adding to our poetry corner.

Written on the spot as I sit in my home office looking out the window on this first day of November, 2008.

It's raining outside,

and raindrops 

patter upon the roof,

and swoosh through the downspout,

then careen down into the storm drain

to be reclaimed for other uses. 

Can you hear them,

the raindrops,

screaming with delight,

like children on a roller coaster

eager to run, wait in line, and do it again? 

It reminds me that those curve balls

life is fond of throwing my way,

are mearly opportunities to reclaim experiences I may have ignored,

or let fly by because I was too afraid

or unprepared to catch them.

I may want to approach them with more delight

and a glove.

SIS KImberly 

Thank you 2NewBoobs (Teri), hollyann, footie, blessed, ria, bonny1963, and Gillkath (Laurie) for sharing your poems, art, supportive words, and yourselves so that others may know they are not alone and can find inspiration in your posts.

I haven't written anything since early November, and as I sit here, I wonder what needs to be expressed today.  Hmmm, let's see.

The Season

Thanksgiving has come and gone,

and I continue to be thankful each and every day.

Has it been over a year since diagnosis already?

Almost a year since my breasts were removed,

and replaced with foreign feeling 'foobies' ?

What a difference just one year makes.

Even through the lingering side effects

of surgeries and chemotherapy,

(radiation and hormone suppression?

"No, thank you,” )

I know how much I owe to cancer, for

I have learned that I'm not in control,

and that being in the now is all that matters.

I have been reminded that it isn't about how much you do,

but the enjoyment received by doing.

So, as the holiday season approaches,

I will take those lessons to heart.

I will be present in the moment with my friends and family,

showing them how much they mean to me

through my actions and my words, not store bought gifts

that will be long forgotten by this time next year.

The spirit of giving isn't about giving to those who have,

it is about giving to those in need.

This year as last year, I will again give the gift of charity

in the names of those I love,

so that others may benefit

from the joy of my doing.

 

Happy Holidays

SIS Kimberly

As 2008 fades, exhausted by the challenges of getting a nation to see how far off track it was and to finally remove the blindfold, America blinks and squints painfully as its eyes adjust to the light of reality, and the way has been paved for the Devine 2009.

Bette Midler is going to love her!

You didn't think I'd send you into the new year without a poem, did you?

The Devine 2009

Reminiscent of a 1940's pin-up,
her upswept silky chestnut brown hair,
makes her thick-lashed doe eyes stand out
against a back drop of pale porcelain skin,
lightly rouged cheeks, and a rosy full-lipped mouth.

Elegantly dressed in a black satin,
figure fitting sleeveless gown trimmed with
shimmering gold accents along the bodice and hemline,
she descends the twelve-step staircase, as if floating,
just as the clock strikes midnight.

Everyone looks to her as she gracefully glides
to the center of the staircase with a breathtaking smile that assures all who witness her that Devine 2009
will bring with her long awaited change
and the beginning of a new era.

Her striking features would ordinarily bring whispers
accusing her of being all beauty and no brains,
but not now, for we are more aware of the importance
of looking beyond the media glossed surface of things.
Something about her elicits our confidence.

Her message is simple for it is borne of universal truth... "Now is the time to work together for the betterment of all, rather than for the few. Our planet, our children, and our elderly need us to ensure they will be well cared for and loved now and far into the future.

We need to see our community as one global community rather than one nation trying to gain or to regain power. We must become a community of nations, siblings born of the same life energy, doing what's right for the family, so that all may benefit equally, no one more important than another."

As the clock concludes its inauguration ceremony,
Devine 2009 draws nearer to the last step, and
as she does, her visage begins to change before our eyes.
Her hair now lustrous silver, and her face
although still luminous, now shows signs of age.

"Ah", she says softly, "In my youth, your past, my beauty captivated you,but my words fell on deaf ears as you frolicked in your prosperity. A gift wrapped beautifully is more often easily received. I offer my wisdom and a gift,
a rare, pivotal-moment opportunity. Do not squander it."

Happy New Year
All my love, Kimberly

Hmmm, all the stanzas should be 5 lines as in the original I copied from my desktop. I tried to fix it here, but the site won't let me. Poopy. What's up?