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 Jul 2019
will19008
Name the feeling
but first you must recognize it
for what it is, and
realize what it is

Do it fairly specifically

Even when you use
a concrete term to describe
your feeling (ex. anger)
there is a gamut, or range:
annoyed
or raging mad?

This should be identified
clearly
My notes for an assignment given in EDE352, Self/Group Processes, Spring 1980, by my mentor, Dr Charlotte King.  I learned so much from her...
 Jul 2019
Nadia
Huggles and snuggles
To get through the struggles
Spooning and mooning
When the heart needs fine-tuning

Moaning and *******
To relieve the worst itching
Dreaming and hoping
For balancing the moping

Running and jumping
When plasma needs pumping
Wishes and kisses
To ease the near misses

Singing and dancing
When life needs enhancing
Making and creating
For the soul’s validating


NCL July 2019
 Jul 2019
Jonna
To an outsider this looks easy. You don’t understand the importance of accuracy.

You’ve never seen the terrors of lows in the night. You don’t understand that my blood-curdling screams aren’t a fight.

When the hallucinations come you won’t know it’s DKA, you’ll just laugh at whatever goofy things I say.

You can’t relate to the pain on my fingers tips, or the hurt in my heart from ignorant others in relationships.

You can’t fathom the literal pain in my skin, from an unstable A1C I’d been living in.

You’ll never know the fear of dying in your sleep, or the night terrors when your low slumber is deep.

Or how about the shame of my body scars from years of injections? It makes it hard to accept words of affection.

I’m mad at this world that says they’re here to assist. They say they’ll put my concerns on their list.

Their “acts of kindness” only apply to those with money. Content with their charity they live on in harmony.
 Jul 2019
Don Bouchard
35
I remember 35
Like it was 25 years ago.

I had hair then.
Was in my eighth year of teaching.
Had four children at home,
A dog.
A cat.

Unbounded energy,
Exuberance,
Passion,
Conviction

Stress fed my bones,
Canceled my fears,
"Work harder
Before the night falls!"

Night is falling.
Sixty is nearly here.
I am nearly gone,
And yet you linger,
A soul standing in periphery.

35.
What is the point of living
If the past cannot be left,
And the present stand still
To let us dress each other's wounds,
Forgive our others' sins,
Let us, limping as we are,
Move toward the center,
Again to begin?
Seven years upon us....
Where have the daily poems gone?  
That’s how I start my day, and I miss them.
June 27 was the last date one showed on my Mac.  
Was nothing worthy in the ensuing week?  
Is Eliot unwell?  Who chooses the Dailies?
Is that person also unwell.
Does anybody know anything.
Somebody tell me something.
                        ljm
For those who can't tell the difference, this is not a poem.  It's a query.  § :-D
 Jul 2019
Sharon Flynn
thief
you rummage
through the hours
****** away today
abduct memories
of sons and daughters
pull drawers open
throwing relationships
on the floor
memories scattered
everywhere
you take light
from the eyes
leave vacant stares
you rob family
of the person
you steal away spirit
and you take your time
snatching one piece
after another
even the ability to eat
before you're through
what's left is a skeleton
with dry bones
eroding in the Sun.
This poem is about Alzheimer's disease and the effects it has on family and friends. As well as how the disease robs the person of memories, of children,  spouses and can even take away the ability to eat.
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