A Day in My Life

The other night, at an open mic, we were trying to remember the words to the Beatle’s song “A Day in the Life.”  So, the thought stayed with me since, and today I had one of those days of having lots on my “to do” list.   Dan started listing all the stuff I’d done by the end of the day, and it sounded like a poem to me, so add writing a poem (free verse, no rhymes) about it to the end of the list.

Busy.

“Got up.

Got outta bed.

Dragged a comb across my head”

Made coffee.

Ate some fruit.

(Took my meds…..)

Cleaned the kitchen

Cleaned the living room

Vacuumed.

Cleaned the toilet.

(Yuck…..)

Got dressed and washed my face.

Brushed my teeth and combed my hair.

(Again.)

Ran to the drugstore

To get a gift card for Amazon

To send to my sister

For her birthday next week.

(Today is my mother’s birthday.

She would have been 98.)

Drove 10 miles to Trader Joes.

I needed ciabatta bread

For my friend who was coming over

For our regularly scheduled gab session.

As I walked into the house

I kissed my man goodbye,

As he left to go play Texas Hold ‘Em.

While I gabbed.

I sat down in front of the gong

And played for a bit.

I’m learning how to get different sounds out of it.

It’s really cool.

My BFF down here came over

She brought Josh Cabernet Sauvignon

It’s my favorite cab.

Heated up the ciabatta bread

Made dipping oil.

We gabbed for 2 hours.

It was lovely.

We solved the worlds problems

And our own.

She left after a couple hours.

I made blueberry muffins

From scratch,

Jordan Marsh recipe.

They came out so good.

We made dinner

Pork cutlet pounded very thin

covered with sauce

and mozzarella cheese

and 3 cheese tortellinis.

Mmmmmm…….

Cleaned the kitchen

After we both tried a blueberry muffin

(They came out good!!)

and sat down.

Oh, and did a couple loads of laundry sometime too,

That was a busy day for me. Phew!!!

We all have days like this, where we are somehow energized by each thing we accomplish. It was fun, all day. Maybe I’ll be tired tomorrow, but maybe not. Life is good!

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To Be Willing

The sound of singing bowls
Circle the room
The low rumble of a lone gong
Fills souls longings
Waves of vibrations flow
Up and down the room
Through each person
Peace and joy fill the space
Where moments ago
Pain had lived.
Let go the fear
Let go the pain
Be willing to be free.

 

By Deborah E. Dayen

 

 

Rising

Sometimes pain just lays in on you.
You don’t even know it’s there.
It can hide real well.
You feel a tweak
You deny.
You deny again.
And again.
And once more.

Then all of a sudden.|
It just lays on you.
Smothering.
Out of hiding
It covers your heart,
Your mind
And it just

Hurts.

There’s a truth in pain.
An honesty.
It would be refreshing
If it wasn’t so disconcerting.
But it is.
Disconcerting.
Upsetting.Ri
Spinning you dizzy
When the world you created
To deny that pain

Cracks

The light comes in the cracks
The glaring bright light
The kind you shield your eyes from
Yet you still see it, behind your eyelids

Like looking at the sun
It blinds you
You have to sit with it
For an hour
Or a day
Or a week
But not forever.

You try to catch your breath.
You try to throw it off of you.
But it’s heavy
It’s weighted
Its origin is deep
Deeper than you knew

Finally,
With every last ounce of your energy
You throw it off
It’s left you bruised and broken
And hurting.

But you still have your breath.
You can begin again.
Breathe.
Dig down.
Deep.
Breathe.

Rise.

 

By Deborah E. Dayen

The Weight of Shame

shame

Shoulders slumped
Under the weight
Of guilt

Hurting him was not
In the plan
There was no plan

Just words
Spoken in anger
Where was the love?

Shoulders slumping more
The weight sending
Her head into her hands

Shame is heavy
Weighing her down
Who is she, now?

 

By Deborah E. Dayen

Picture from Reach 10 via Google Images

Dawn Breaks

In the early morning darkness
The first rays of sunlight
Transform the world
From the shadowy closeness of darkness
To the promise of another shimmering day

I sit in quiet here
In the kitchen
The songs of the birds the only sound
Watching puffy clouds
Begin to take shape
In the cool early dusk.

You are sleeping, still.
Since sleep doesn’t come easily to you
I am thankful that I didn’t wake you.
I ventured into this morning alone
But never lonely.

I sip my coffee
Dunking my biscotti
Watching the sky go from indigo|
to powder blue
And then in a heartbeat
The puffy clouds glow pink
As the sun rises.

The glow changes to rose-gold to white
And I am humbled
To be the witness to such handiwork
The universe paints the sky
In magnificent hues for a few minutes
As we continue our journeys
To places yet unknown.

When you awaken
I will share this morning with you
Just as we share most everything
Maybe this evening we will watch
As the sun sets on a picture perfect day
Loving and knowing
How many blessings are ours.

By Deborah E. Dayen

Pictures taken by me, this morning.