© 2-28-03
Tired, tired, always tired.
The days of no energy cloud my brain.
The nights, so many hours in bed,
Asleep but not, no rem comes to me.
Dreams escape me, please come to me.
I fall asleep before I hit the pillow.
It doesn’t matter, fifty seven seconds later
I awake, start to breathe, fall back to sleep,
Repeated all night, every night,
Six hundred thirteen times a night, I
Stop breathing. How could I sleep if I die?
Breathe, breathe, and tell my brain to tell
My body to breathe. Sleep escapes me.
Dreams have left me, tired am I when I
Wake, so why bother to go to sleepland.
A mask I now wear over my face,
It may not be sexy but now I can breathe
When I go to visit sleep land, and
Morpheus can come and let me dream.
Sleep apnea is not easy to live with,
But a machine and mask keeps me open,
Air can get back into my lungs when I sleep.
© 2-25-03
Born May 9, 1950
It was a special day,
A spring day, a warm day,
Early morning I came
But the news was it would
Be my death day as well.
It was a special day,
For I survived, beat the odds,
Surprised all and stayed alive.
As I grew up, I felt a presence
Always around me, ever present.
I lived protected, kept from harm.
The sixties brought the dirty dances
And my bout with innocence taken.
A time to be myself without a care,
A time to worship my dad, and his
Friends were like uncles to me. My
Smile forever on my face. A time of
Pure happiness, pure innocence. No
One was there to give me harm.
It was a time I grew up skirting the Biz.
The seventies held many things,
A time of pleasures, and a time of growth.
I still had a shroud of innocence about me.
I met a six-foot tall blonde who came to be
My partner, lover, and father to my kids.
Married in ‘80, Off to Italy we went.
It was a dream come true, a chance to visit
What to me was a classic mythological period.
I was fascinated with ancient history, its art
And its culture, Greek, Roman, Assyrian, or
Hebrew- a fascination that speaks of knowledge
Hidden, knowledge found, knowledge present
Without the soul. These were the years of
Stretching of loving yet not being loved except
By the munchkins G-d gave to me to protect.
His children He has given me custody to teach.
A boy and a girl dedicated to the L-rd.
The nineties brought a goal to fruition.
Told when I was ten I would not be able to
Graduate high school let alone college, I
Again beat the odds. I did get through High School.
In “96 graduated university with an Professional
Writing major and Ancient history minor.
Don’t ever tell me that I can’t. No matter the
Odds, I will fight them and I will always win.
Now it’s a new century, and I am still living.
So many times, people said I couldn’t and now
It is my song—don’t get me wrong—I don’t
Think I can’t but that I can, like that little train
Chugging along, never giving up, and I will
Continue on and on. Did I tell you, I love crafts too.