Wednesday, May 13, 2009

a poem I wrote in February- 10 more minutes

I just stumbled across this on my desk, as I'm cleaning, and I don't think I ever posted it before.

Ten more minutes

10 more minutes until it's time to go home
What do you do?
Find one last project to finish?
Clean your desk?
Grab a quick snack?
Check email
Surf the web
make your grocery list
call a friend just to say "Hello"
10 more minutes until it's time to go home
Do you pay a bill?
Send someone a birthday card?
Talk to a coworker
Stare at your child's artwork hanging on the wall?

10 more minutes until the little one is here
The nurse said just 10 more minutes and then
you and your loved one will have a baby in your arms
IF only it was that easy!
10 more minutes until it's time to go home

10 more minutes until your guests arrive
everything is done but what's left?
do you sit quietly and wait
or call to make sure they are on their way
do you give the bathroom one last scrub?
or eat some celery off the plate?
10 more minutes until your guests arrive

10 more minutes in the emergency room
you sit and wait
do you hold hands or hug
or call a friend
or nibble on a candy bar
or sip from a coffee cup
10 more minutes in the emergency room waiting

10 more minutes is what the doctors said
10 more minutes until they pull the plug
10 more minutes feels like an eternity
do you cry, laugh, or just sit and shrug?
do you hold hands, kiss, or look away?
10 more minutes before this life slips away.

------Draft, Feb. 11, 2009

Writing exercise- from a photo

Here's what I wrote for one of the exercises we did in our last writing class yesterday--

writing exercise- Photo- May 12, 2009

They are a gray-haired couple. He wears his grayness on is face with a full beard that is more white than gray. She is heavier than he is, wearing a floral shirt of some sort. His eyes are shining brightly, glasses aimed at his granddaughter on this happy occasion. A hearing aide glimpses out from behind his ear, aging him too quickly. Daughter and granddaughter smile for the camera but the true joy is his. He wears a university sweatshirt, a gift from the daughter probably, and he really is a happy man, in the midst of the women who love him dearly. If you could see the cake, hidden in the cardboard box on the table, then you might guess the occasion to be Spring, Easter, or a little girl's birthday. All are good answers for an April afternoon.

The lighting isn't quite right. You know this wasn't a professional with a camera, just a cheap disposable used for quick picture taking to capture memories, not for creating family heirloom displays.

The young child is happy. Happy for the camera, for the party, for grandpa, and for friends. She is hoping this day will never end. She is tall and muscular, looking older than her 3 years maybe, but I could be wrong.

The mother or daughter.. the woman in blue... who is that? Who is that overweight woman with the long messy hair? Why is she wearing such ugly, cheap clothes? What's wrong with her face? She's too frumpy for this picture. She can't possibly be related to the cute little girl with purple pants, or the smiling old man in the gray shirt. Is she the cleaning lady or something? She doesn't belong! But the man, unseen, holding the camera, refuses to be in the picture, so someone must hold the child and there she is.

The gray haired man, wearing the gray sweatshirt, he is the star of this photo.

(time is up)

Some writing about class, life, and being me

Well the writing class that I was taking finally finished yesterday. It was supposed to be a 12-week class, but I think we stretched it to 13. I only missed class once, and that was because I was at the doctor's office getting diagnosed with pneumonia. Anyway, I'm going to miss class. It gave me an excuse, and time to write. Today I feel very disorganized, lethargic, and just generally out of it. It has been difficult to get any work done. I am trying to get organized though. I'm going through my writing papers, and seeing what I can assemble for my boss, for work, to say "this is what I did, and this is what I learned, and this is what is useful to my job". It's a slow process. Maybe a cup of coffee will help.

In the meantime, is anyone giving out free makeovers? I could use one. One overweight woman, who does not believe in painting her face with cosmetics, has no budget for a wardrobe of nice clothes, is in desperate need of some assistance. Every time I see myself in the mirror or see a picture of myself, I cringe. Where did that double-chin come from? I know the extra 40 pounds isn't going to disappear tomorrow. I just wish I could look better today, this week, now. You know?