Snot goblins! UNITE!

A prayer for healing.

I wrote this while I was on sick leave from work.

🙏🏻

Attention snot goblins,

Your fellow sufferers need prayer. We are sinking in our Kleenex – toilet paper boats as we are hurdled down mucus river.

Sinusitis Sanatorium is still under construction. But we all know God is the great physician. Heal your snot goblins Lord. Dry up the mucus river. Heal our wounded lungs, sore ribs, and explosive noses. Mt. Vesuvius ain’t got nothin’ on us. Heal our watering eyes and stopped up ears.

A couple of your Little Boogers have been going about their days. Plodding along at a snails pace to get things done. But one booger just wouldn’t turn green. Stuck in a sinus cavity, unable to participate in the Sinusitis Prom. No one wants to feel left out.

Help us. Heal us Lord. Time for this party to be over.

Amen!

Clickety clack

Tired. I’m so tired.

Here in the muck and mire.

<

I want to feel –

peel –

<

back to a time when there were no words.

Back to a moment when nothing was absurd.

~

My body shivers from the late spring night air.

Coupled with the dew clinging to my skin makes quite the pair.

~

I close my tear filled eyes.

Nature has fallen asleep. Nothing to wish me goodbye.

~

What sound to my ears?

The low distant warning, telling all to fear.

~

Fear? No, sadness. Lonesome – maybe.

Haunting, absolutely. Beautiful, agree.

~

I remove my shoes. The earth is cold and damp between my toes.

Feelings that have nothing to do with my built environment grow.

~

That sound fills my ears.

Beautiful, haunting. Please come near.

~

Anticipation with each passing minute.

I feel (through my body) your vibration. My emotions pivot.

~

There you are. Tears stream down my face.

I have no desire to keep with your pace.

~

Thrill me.

Fill me.

~

With something other than this.

Something I will not miss.

~

Your sound drowns out all thought.

Screams to my lungs you brought.

~

I scream, cry, and shout into the night.

Clickety clack. You match my screams with your mechanical might.

~

I feel the strength of your raging vibration through the ground.

Come on! No one is around.

~

Drown me out to a point of none existence.

Clickety clack. In an instant.

~

Faster and faster you shrill into the night.

Faster and faster your haunting cry makes me right.

<

Exhausted from my trials.

There is nothing left of me but a pile.

~

I cling to this tree for stability.

Having expressed all my inabilities.

~

You are pulling me down with you.

I’m not ready yet. I’m not through.

~

This tree will be my life line.

I need it to bine,

~

my soul to my frame.

Me, you will not claim.

~

My emotions are yours.

My heart I did pour.

~

Clickety clack; 30 minutes, your length is impressive.

30 minutes, not one bit excessive.

~

All of my emotions I have laid out on your tracks.

Clickety clack, I don’t want them back.

~

But this will happen again, you and I.

For this world is destined to make me cry.

~

You don’t care.

You mask my sorrow, so I can share.

~

With the night, your wind, your haunting desire.

I think I’ll just lay here, there is no fire.

~

I’m empty, tired, sleep I require.

In the distance I hear your lonesome cry. I smile. Soon my friend, you are singing to the choir.

Oh Deer

One day, on a shopping trip to IKEA, I saw this print.

I don’t know if it was the geometric shapes or the simplicity of it but it struck a cord with me.

So I decided I can do that. Boredom does strange things to me. As you can most like tell from my blog posts. Filling this time with something that won’t get me fired or cause me to gain 40 pounds can be …… challenging in and of itself.

Recreating this print to look the way I wanted it to look filled many of those hours. Scissors, art paper, paint, and a very fine utility knife did just that.

Sorry for the glare.

Purple is my favorite color. It just seemed to make the gold pop.

Once there was Darkness

Chapter 29

Kol stood on Kessa’s balcony looking over his great city. It was a beautiful sight.

Beth interrupted his thoughts; “she is asleep my king. Would you like for me to wake her?”

“No. Thank you.”

She bowed her head and left.

Kol found her asleep. She was his angel. How she looked the part at this very moment. He was lost in thought and didn’t notice that she was awake.

“What brings you my way?” Her eyes were sparkling with a mischievous twinkle.

“Will I ever be able to surprise you?”

“You surprise me all the time.” She sat up in bed; “but I’m guessing not in the ways you wish to.”

He sat at her feet on the bed. Those feet that jumped, climbed, and ran looked so sweet. “I should have done this a long time ago.” He caressed her foot.

Did he have any idea just how good that felt? Kessa could have bit a hole in her lip. She really wanted to know what he ‘should have done a long time ago’ but was enjoying this moment to much to ask. He produced a gold chain from his pocket and put it on her ankle. He took her breath away when he leaned down and kissed the top of her foot. “Kessa, will you be my queen?” He kissed her. Did he kiss her? And she kissed him back. It felt amazing. She was amazing.

He woke screaming. His hands were shaking. Frego ran into the room, “dad are you okay?”

He gasped for breath, “no.”

“Dad,” he asked softly.

Night Sky

Sky so dark; full of star light.

If I pour out my heart, will you hear me tonight?

Should I whisper? Should I scream?

Will your answer come in a dream?

I’ve been praying in ernest. God hears my call.

Do I need a new court? Try a different ball?

I shall keep praying.

To the moon and stars, I will keep braying.

Screaming into the night; should the moon loose it’s light?

I always wanted – thought I always needed.

Almost to a point- pleaded.

Maybe that is the wrong band?

Maybe God has another plan?

Last day of poetry month

What makes a poet?

I once read a story where the author said, “if you want to be a writer, write.”

If you are like me, you can come up with a million and one reasons why you are not a writer. My grammar is deplorable. My command of the English language is second rate. Things make sense to me but other people have said, ‘I just don’t understand you.’ Or ‘they broke the mold when they made you.’ Whoever ‘they’ might be?

Poetry is for losers. Poetry makes my head hurt. Spoken word crap. But not one of these people that say these things live a life devoid of music. I did a search for music that started out as poetry and I got ‘10 most powerful songs with poetic lyrics’: Killing Me Softly, A Change is Gonna Come, I’ll Stand By You, The Power of Love for example. readpoetry.com.

The Bible is filled with poems and songs. Especially the Old Testament: Job, Psalms, Proverbs, and Song of Solomon. The most noted poet in the Bible is King David.

Not all poetry is ‘coupled rhyme’. Which seems to be my preferred style.

There will always be people telling you that you are not good enough. Talented enough. Your dreams are stupid, selfish, or unreachable. Should you listen?

I just have two pieces of advice; pray and try. Don’t break the bank or quit your day job. Writing has always been an outlet for me. I can say things on paper that I could never say face to face. And yes, I got wrapped up in the ‘you’re not good enough’ for years. I’m so glad I listened to that still small voice that said ‘try’.

Birthday Signs

As promised, here is the diy for my birthday signs as referenced in my continuing work: Waste not. Want not. https://byjolenerice.wordpress.com/2023/04/26/waste-not-want-not-birthday/

https://youtube.com/shorts/z5DTtm-HSOQ?feature=share Happy Birthday Tom

Happy Birthday Sammy

My bestie came up with the idea of trying. So I tried. Granted they are not as big or professional as the ones I could have ordered; they were great fun to make. And, I was able to personalize them to each persons likes.
My work place gets cases of 8 1/2 by 17 inch paper. Each case has at least 4 of these cardboard dividers in it. I used these for my letters. You will also need: a fat marker, scissors, hot glue gun, lots and lots and lots of craft paint. And I found bamboo skewers on sale, that’s what I used to poke the letters in the ground.
Happy Birthday Rach

All of my letters are free-hand. You can try to use a box cutter/utility knife to cut the letters out but scissors worked best for me.
Happy Birthday Jerm

Yes, that cute little car sitting in the background is mine. Photo-bomb!

It took (on average) two coats of paint for each letter.
Happy B-Day Sheryl

Sticking the letters in the ground wasn’t always an option. It was 6 degrees on her birthday and the wind was blowing like crazy. Hence the abbreviation of birthday to B-Day.
Happy Birthday Eden

Because I mailed this one, I wrote on the back where to glue the skewers.
Happy Birthday Jameson

It was raining and windy on this day and I forgot my twine at home. These were not difficult to make. It just took time so the paint could dry.
In typical me fashion, this trash bag was used as my drop cloth. After my projects were over, it was used as a trash bag, for real.
Trashy

Old friend

Stick by me old friend,

until the end.

My companion until this is over.

My one true soldier.

By my side day and night.

You are not the fright.

You will not catch me when I fall.

You will not comfort me at all.

You will not carry me when I can’t walk.

You will not speak for me when I can’t talk.

You will not laugh with me.

Nor will you cry when I cry. You will let me be.

Beside me always. Watching – waiting;

anticipating.

An end will come. When, how? Only the creator knows.

Until then, I will continue to grow.

Live my life the best that I can.

In this world, I will stand.

I don’t have to look over my shoulder to know where you are.

Though you never speak, I know you are not far.

I am never truly alone. You are always by my side.

You are always along for the ride.

Am I afraid of you? Not really.

It’s the cause that will be a dilly.

But I know you will be holding one hand.

When it’s all over; into your arms, I will command.

My soul you will carry home.

My body; upon this earth, will no more roam.

Once there was Darkness

Chapter 28

Court days were always grueling. At this moment, he would rather be going over military accounts. Since the kingdom was growing, he now had two court days every 30 days. Two! He was working with Frego to take on the second day.

People bickering all the time, usually over petty issues. Kol said a silent prayer thanking God that every day wasn’t a court day. However; this event wasn’t petty or normal. Two women; the biological mother and another woman that Kol was having a difficult time connecting the two of them together, were fighting over a baby. They were screaming. The baby was screaming. Kol’s head was busting. Then like an angel, she walked across the floor. She made not a sound as she seemed to glide toward the bickering women. Normally court was never this unruly. Kol let it go on trying to get to the root of the issue.

His attention was pulled back to his angel. The gown that she wore was glowing a bright white. He knew it was all in his head but she was an angel. His angel. The most beautiful creature in the room. In Mecca, for sure. Perhaps on the planet. She bent over and picked the bundle up that was the screaming child. The women bemoaned its removal. It didn’t take long for the child to stop crying.

Kol was finally able to speak, “the greatest gift God gives us is the ability to be parents. Why are you fighting over this child?”

“It’s mine.” One lady hissed.

“You are?”

“Carol, sire.”

“Your relationship to this child?”

“He is the son of my heart.”

“And you?” His question was directed at the other woman.

“Benthal, sire. I am the child’s mother. I gave birth to him.” She sobbed.

“How do you know Carol?”

“We are neighbors, sire. Nothing more.”

“The child is mine.” Carol screamed. “God gave him to me in a dream.”

Kol’s attention was pulled back to his glowing angel. She giggled as a stream of pee escaped the child. Max rushed over to her, offering his cloak to wrap the baby with. Kol just noticed the coverings the baby had been wrapped in were laying in the floor. Another Bejhar (Kol hadn’t learned his name yet) cleaned up the pee. Max took the bundle the baby had been wrapped in away. Court was silent as he watched her pace by the window humming softly to a cooing baby. After several minutes, the silence was broken by a bone breaking explosion. The two women began wrestling on the floor. Luke, a third Bejhar, ran into the room. His angel nodded her head at him.

“Arrest these two.” Luke instructed the guards.

The two women were dragged out of the court room kicking and screaming.

Kol walked over to the window. “Ever thought about being a mother?” He stroked the babies cheek with his thumb. His voice was soft and full of compassion.

“No my king,” came a sweet reply. “God has never placed that on my heart.”

A few days later, Kessa found Kol in the garden. “My king.” She bowed her head.

“Kes,” he smiled.

“Dad is still working on trying to figure out what kind of explosives were in the babies bundle. Whatever it was, as soon as the baby peed wetting the substance, it would explode.”

The look on Kol’s face was of shock and disgust. “Someone was willing to sacrifice a child for what?”

“The only thing I can think of is to scare or hurt you.”

He sat on a bench and motioned for her to join him. “What made you suspicious?”

“He never stopped screaming. From the time they entered the court room, that child never stopped screaming. It was killing my head. And I knew it was killing yours. My original purpose for picking the child up off the floor was an attempt to calm him down. He was too heavy.”

“What we are dealing with is heavy and reacts to getting wet?”

“Yes.”

“What of the women?”

“Pai was their guard. He was unable to learn anything from their behavior. The birth mother has the child now. Pai goes once a month for a visit to check. The baby is growing well. And the neighbor hasn’t been bothering them.”

Kol rubbed his face with his hands. “First Mordecai now this. Am I the target?”

“You’re always a target because of your position.”

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome as always, my king.”

“Kes.” His voice was a little stern.

“Sorry, Kol.” she blushed.