Summer Day

Source:  ME

It's a good book, cool breeze, warm sun

chirping birds, grassy toes,

diet cherry coke drinkin'

kind of summer day

My Epitaph

                                                                             Source

I follow a writing blog with exercises on increasing your writing ability.  It offers challenges and writing prompts,  and although I never participate by linking up my writing this assignment caught my attention.  A few months ago the assignment was to write your epitaph.  I had to look that up!  Crazy, I guess, but I did not know what an epitaph was.  After looking it up, this is what I came up with, but really how morbid, right?  And since today is my birthday, shhh don't tell anyone that I am now 43, it felt fitting to share today.  Cuz, yeah, I'm old.  ;)  

Etched in his heart

Memories

A chasm...A canyon

Because the loving was so deep

Darkness plagues his soul

He wrestles with the night

and my name...

an echo on the wind
~Lisa~

But really, you could just play this song at my funeral, and I'll be smiling from heaven.  

Elusive Sleep

Source

"Waiting, for the elusive sleep

 almost there, just out of reach 

don't let me drown

 everything is not the same

 I, the grouch, without you 

 miss the days where I am completely refreshed 

I am not myself 

someone help 

sleep, elusive sleep

yonder there across the way

over the sleepy breath

under, under I go..."

What do you do when you can't sleep?  

I suppose I should have had some 

hot chocolate or something

 instead of writing nonsensical poetry
 in my head.  

 

I Will Not Go Gentle

Source

Today I celebrate another birthday. At some point, I don't remember when, but birthdays were and are no longer fun. I'd prefer to spend the day in bed with the covers pulled up high and wait out the dreaded day. This poem by Dylan Thomas speaks to me. I will NOT go gently into that good night....

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
by Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Marine Wife #3

 Source

KT was one of the first to return home.  When he had reenlisted it was because he opted for a specific training.  It was in the contract....When things were wrapping up quickly over there, the Marine Corps sent him home in March 1991 with some of the first soldiers coming home.  He had a contract...I was allowed to meet him then even though it was again, the middle of the night.  Like 2 am to be exact.  Do you think I slept, nope...I had a friend come with me to take pictures of our reunion.  Guess what...Her camera didn't work and the pictures didn't come out.  I'll have to settle for one like the above.  

Reunion

My heart

a paradox

of emotions:

Fear, excitement.

My mind 

a labyrinth 

of confusion.

Our moment 

is not so far.

Though many months 

our separation,

only moments

to our reunion...

You, there,

all else a blur.

Focused only on you, 

and I am in your arms.

Those encircling, protective arms.

The great chasm 

in my heart

already it has healed.

~Lisa~

If you liked this one, you can read more here and here

Marine Wife #2

Source

I wasn't allowed to see KT off...not the Marine Corps' rules, but his.  They were leaving in the middle of the night, and he didn't want me losing it in Honolulu with no one to take me home.  He thought a lot of himself, didn't he?  So he had a friend pick him up, and I was left standing in the kitchen listening to them drive away.

Parting

In the arms of my lover,

I do relish the moment.

Spinning, spinning

around me the room doth spin.

The clock ticks; you must go.

My tortured heart

laments.

I listen

as you drive away...

and the engine moans.

~Lisa~

If you enjoyed this one, you might want to check out the first Marine Wife

Marine Wife #1

KT re-enlisted in the Marine Corps in December of 1990.  It was a really cool experience.  Since we were stationed in Hawaii at the time, he got to reenlist on the Arizona Memorial in Pearl Harbor.  We both got to fly a flag over the memorial and still have it today.  Later that night when he was at work, he called to tell me that he received his orders to go to the Middle East...

Patriotic Duty

As if planted

in a block of ice

dumbfounded, I stood there.

You, whisked away

into a whirlwind of the

past months events.

Your foreboding destination

looms ahead.

A war without end?

Unsure of the future,

incessantly shaking,

I put the phone back

on the hook.

~Lisa~

Persian Gulf

Source

Twenty years ago, KT was in the first gulf war. Don't let him fool you, though, he was on the island of Bahrain which is considered by the Arabs to be a resort. He might have had to dodge a few scud missiles, but he learned to play snooker... I was left home to work, hold down the apartment and be my friend's designated driver. What is it with military wives? So many just want to play when the hubby is gone. Not me, I was the dd and faithful to the core. I was not without some offers, though, I'm just sayin'...

I used to write poetry. I haven't in a long time, and I wasn't very good. My poetry was tied to emotions and experiences. It's how I used to express myself. Now I just yell...I have several poems that I wrote that seem to characterize what I went through when he was gone. In honor of twenty years ago, I will be sharing them in a three part series called "Marine Wife". Aren't you excited?

The Fairest of Angels

Twas the night of a Christmas party

and all through the house,

not one soul was thinking,

not one in the house.

Away to the Church house

we flew like a flash,

And forgot a camera with,

well, a really good flash.

Little Ladybug was an angel,so quiet and dear.

Unfortunately, our pictures truly suck, I fear.

The iPhone while handy and really quite cool,

  the quality of the pictures can be truly "Old School".

Midnight Waltz

View of the Seine
by by Georges Seurat


Moving together 

like victims to ocean tides

round and round 

we glide back and forth

across the floor.

The iridescent moonlight 

illuminates the way.

Drunk with the evening.

Like a princess in your arms.

Dizzy with happiness,

You spin me faster,

faster as if I

were a child's toy

Spinning across the floor.

I catch a glimpse of us;

reflections across the Seine.

Slowly, the bands 16th century music

begins to unwind.

Short of breath, you, 

my lover, embrace me.

As fairy tales end, 

so does our midnight waltz.

~Lisa~

Rain

 Source

As I stood there

in the cold rain,

it sunk in.

Penetrating

Soaking me

cold to the heart.

You left me there.

Cold, cold rain

Like harsh words spoken

finally sinking in.

As you turned and left

running

from your innermost fears.

Hanging in mid-air,

my words yet unspoken.

I thought you would return.

Though frozen through,

I waited

in the cold, cold rain.

~Lisa~

Elusive Words

Photo Source

Sometimes I sit with my fingers poised on the keys and nothing comes.

 I wait,

 patiently staring at the monitor hoping that my brain fog will lift. 

I want to share and think and feel with you,

my sisterhood of bloggers. 

But, alas,

the elusive thoughts flit around just out of grasp and disappear

 leaving me longing for that which I cannot obtain. 

Something has happened,

something that even my afternoon diet cherry coke can't cure.

 Chasing, reaching, grasping.

Mysterious words...

~Lisa Hamer~

WOWW

Photo Source

"Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful

that which is distorted. "

~Percy Shelley, A Defence of Poetry, 1821~

A poet I am not!

Digging through a box of memories recently, I came across a notebook where recorded within its pages were my long lost bits of poetry. It is interesting to me how the world of writing mutates and changes through the years. Like the phases of the moon, different interests grow, wane and then disappear. Throughout high school and my early 20's, my writing interest lay in poetry. Some are pretty sappy, you know how high schoolers can be. Everything is about true love and romance, and looking through the world with rose tinted glasses. But, coming across this piece, it seems more timeless. A piece so versatile, I could have written it today or tomorrow, not yesterday. A poet I am not, but even still it evokes emotion and longing. Doesn't a poet pull from the depths of emotion to move a reader? Perhaps I will have one good bit of poetry in my life. Then again, perhaps I am biased because it is mine. This is my favorite:

Dreaming

~by Lisa Hamer~

When the sky a

soft black ebony and

the moon casts her eerie glow,

as my eyes flutter closed

in acceptance of the night,

it is then that he visits me.

Eyes blue, alive, sparkling

his mouth turned up

in a laughing wide grin.

He beckons to me,

and we walk together,

like browsing

through the tome

of my memories.
Even as a picture captures a moment

the details are, yet,

so vivid.

I turn reaching,

grasping for him,

and, in that moment,

he eludes me, and is

gone.

The night.

The mysterious, haunting night.

I lay there,

covers pulled up to my chin.

Christmas Letter's of the Past #1

Photo Source

A bit of corny creativity from my past.  I could send this out this year and just change the ages and dates.  Everything would be pretty much the same.

"T'was the year 2001 and all through the house

Not a person was resting, not ONE in the house.

We've all been so busy with activities galore

It's got us going right out that front door.

Ballet, Cub Scouts, Young Men's, and sports.

TJ is nine and thinks he's pretty fine

Miguel is eight and was baptized.

That's great!

Ladybug is three and what's there to say,

She's pretty happy, it just makes our day.

KT is good, he still has a job...

Micron's not hiring, they may start the firing.

We're praying and crossing our fingers, this day

They'll keep him around so we'll get some pay.  

We got a new car.  It's big and posh.

Our pay was cut...Oh my gosh!

I still have my job:  Home Management Specialist.

The pay really stinks!  But, oh what great benefits!

We're really quite happy and grateful to say

We're all feeling well on this fine Holiday.

Please remember to pray for our brave servicemen

And for their families who sacrifice them.

We are grateful for freedom they help to ensure.

"God Bless America" we hope will endure.

As we turn to Christ this Christmas Season,

We pray for your families and here is the reason.

You are our friends and family, we say,

Health, wealth and happiness for you we do pray.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

We hope this season is filled with good cheer!" 

~Lisa Hamer~