Back On-Line…#349

I am back on-line and out of the hospital once again.  I want to let you know about my latest episode with “Multi Myeloma”, bone cancer.  I went into the Oncology center for my “Chemo” treatment Friday, August 20, 2021; the ride was uneventful as was the blood draw.  I was taken to Dr. O, office for a consult before treatment.  It was there that she informed me that my oxygen was low and that she was sending me via ambulance to the ER.  The ride to the ER was the last thing that I rationally remembered.

I remembered one of the ER Doctors saying that I had, a fever, lungs filling up, Pneumonia, for many my age this is a death sentence!  They begin treating the infection immediately, I explained that I needed to go home, that I had been in the hospital for two-half weeks, Rehab for two-weeks, and I had been gone from home for over one-month.  Home only one day and was in Oncology for Chemo, I needed to go home.  I remember IV’s and confusion!   

I opened my eyes and it was still dark outside, a nurse told me it was August 21, 2021, I told her that I thought it was December 21, that my room was decorated for Christmas.  She was very kind explaining that I had entered the hospital on August 20, 2021, it was early morning and there were no decorations in my room.  Thank goodness she stayed with me continuing to explain that I was taking “mega” medications and that may be the reason for the delirium. I “thought” that I got up out of bed making my way outside where there was snow on the ground, a scene out of a movie “Four Season” that I had watched recently.  I tried to remember the names of the other couple go no avail, not even the stage names or the man I was with, Alan Alda.  My thoughts, I was dying and my children had decorated the room making it Christmas for me. 

When morning light began to creep into the room my mind took another turn into the fantasy world of delirium.  Christmas had disappeared, staff came in and out, I believed it was time to “shut up” and take in my surroundings, the only real thing was my son, Chuck.  

With Chuck being there and a telephone call from Carl make me realize that they too had experienced this type of delusion, and Mia a wonderful nurse that stayed with me until he shift had ended.  I continued to weigh in on my surroundings, I was suspicious of many things, and I tried to keep up with the staff, their names, and their positions in the hospital.  I read each IV that hung over my head, the contents and did I know what they were giving me.  My little knowledge of medicine gave me no help, but some of them I understood.  The hospital was not trying to poison me!  Chuck and Mia talk to me, he seem to have a great deal of understanding of what she was telling him, she had hugged me earlier, which was nice.  I did begin to come out of it and by Saturday afternoon, once again had control of my senses.

My delirium is now gone…  I had to spend several days in the hospital.  The combo of medications placed me in that position, which I did not care for and hope to never experience again.  I am back at the computer and tomorrow plan to work on my book.

My plan is to take all of the experiences that I have endured to put in the book that I had started before all of the health problems begin, Severe Anemia, Vitamin D Deficiency, No White Blood Cells, Cancerous Red Blood Cells, Bone Cancer and the latest a Broke Back and a Right Fracture of the Ankle, and on top of all of that Pneumonia.  Yet, here I sit pounding out my latest story for all of you on the old keys.  I and down but do not count me out!

I love each and every one of you and hope to work on a poem to post over the weekend, along with writing as much as possible on the book.  The days are getting shorter and the deadline may be at hand.  I hope that you will find my poetry books interesting and the book about my daughter compelling.

Take care of yourselves and each other.

EAJM

*What are your thoughts on Sirhan Sirhan getting paroled? 

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A Life Unrepressed…#345

Today, I feel blessed…

I have spent the last three weeks in the hospital and one in a rehab/nursing facility, four weeks..  I fell! I was transported to the hospital.  Within the one week that I was there I was diagnosed with bone cancer, severe anemia and the fall broke my back and right foot.  I am on the mend; cancer will never go away, a rare one with no cure.  The anemia will hopefully at one point change and the broke back will mend.  I have a back brace that has to be ultra tight on me, and I must wear a brace for the rest of my life.  Oh well, I still have my sense of humor!

That’s the bad news; the good is that I have mega writing time. I feel stripped of both worlds.  Only my computer gives light to my days and nights, creating reality and chalets the world of imagination.

I want to share the meaning of creating poetry.  What I see in a poem, it is an image in my mind that must have all the words come together to creates a story.  When creating a poem it becomes the center of my existence.   A writer, actually lives in two worlds, one of reality and one of make believe.  There are times when they meld together; I fear one day the latter will become my only world.  This may come with senility?  At my age, I doubt I will ever see that stage of life.

Currently the world of make believe, fiction, blogging and imagination serves me well.  It masks the pain!  My site, gives me an outlet to create in my poetry how I feel emotionally too.  The realm of imagination is one of quiet periods of reality and fiction join together to give the strength to find a reason for existence.

Peace and Love to each of you.

E.

A Life Unrepressed

Lighting surges through a war of disrespectful words, tears descending, wet.  In times of uncertainty, an unknown sadness is out of control, a smile, a gesture; or fear clings to a receptive body.  Words may not bring rest or smiles, the soul deep within knows.

There is no one that can unlock the heart, nothing that can be said or felt.  Thoughts, do not reveal or conceal, disguise the lack of sympathy, place blame and criticize.  Alienate the voice, if only for one moment feel free.  Fate, possession, strife, and life.

The genuine self, forced to obey, despite and un-regarded life blind to the hurt of others will embed hate eternally.  The knowledge of life fire and force, walking down a rough path; deep pain.  No spirit, hate has the power to control, nameless feelings that have conceded to a life unrepressed.  Speak and act so no one will know hidden damage floating down to the soul.

The hidden self, inward strife and following demands; in return, a thousand nothings, all-miraculously give power.   Hide in the depths of the soul; echo speaks of pain.  Lackluster eyes stare, glare, and the words unspoken deafening creating fear.  A bolt of tones, frightening, is piercing ears.

No feeling stirs, the heart laid plain, unaware of a life winding down, no meadows of flowers, no sun, no breeze, and the madness is elusive to all.  No feeling, no respite.  In quietness, the war of mocking words; the tears, the sadness. The thoughts of the sea, the crashing waves; soul and spirit sinking within its wet madness and always stay, stay, and stay.

Too late, love revealed itself in death, and the heart has nothing to say.  Living and moving in disguises, alien, until the end.  Life had nothing to possess, strife, identity.  Blind, uncertainty, life no fire or restlessness, a thirst for the mystery of it all, nameless feelings lived in vain.  The loss, the heart lay open for all to see, the hurt hidden twisted among the rubble of pain.  Yet, after all that, there is tomorrow.  

©2021.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

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The Whole Day Through…#344

The Whole Day Through…

I lay down in a field of poppies, red

Dotted among the green, I watched

The clouds moving lazy above me.

They touched the mountain peaks,

They touched my soul, it’s far away,

But someday there I will go.

If I lay long enough it will be night

The stars will come out to greet

Me, among them may be the

Milky Way.  It is then that I shall

Rise, the Poppy field will not want

Me to stay.

As a Poet I live in a meditative mood,

And live in the delight of solitude.  I

Am met in the morning by the dew

Dropped roses through an open window

Their scent last the whole day through.

I live my life to experience these

Pleasures.  There was a time when

I let them pass me by, so many years

I have wasted trying to live with lies.

A human soul lives within me, I fear

 That the years have crushed the flowers

Of my life.  With the time I have left

On earth, I want to spread the love

Within me, remove myself of toxic things

Or people, in my life that bring nothing

But hatred and strife.

This new belief I know was sent from the

Heavens above, a new path for me to

Follow was written in my life’s plan.  I

Have a new lease on life, my goal to live

It the way I have always planed, no stopping

Me now, I have been shown the way, a

Second chance to live in peace and in

Truth.  The guilty I will be free from the

Debris of their truths, they will hurt me

No more.

Flying with Broken Wings

©2021.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

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#autobiography #Death of daughter #Poetry

Madness…#343

Madness…#343

Hatred –

An unwanted Soul –

At birth cast away –

Scared and burdened with emotional wounds throughout its journey on earth.  Never knowing the touch of a mother’s hand, no words of I love you, one child was showered with love, the other the mother could not stand. All of the tomorrows’ the path long and steep; it searched a lifetime to asking why did the mothers’ anger run so deep.  A lifetime of sadness, the hate clear; the mother was spiteful. 

 The moment the mother was laid in the ground.  Truth in its abandonment never found, this abused Soul tries to remember that understanding and unhappiness are closely bound.  Band from seeing her mother in those last precious days, lies told many things stole.  The soul now grown did not want her possessions, she hoped to hear her say the words, I love you, but it was too late.  To the end the mother held on to her hate.

When anger and depression fuse together, they give birth to madness.  Loathing emotions born out of the pits of darkness holds an emptiness and void that can never find contentment.  Madness thinks of death, is in harmony with Stillness.  It feels pain, lives in blackness,  hopes for nothing; survives as its opponent living life be aware-its toxic and filled with madness.

©2021.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

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I have waited all of my life, where are you?…#341

I have waited all of my life, where are you?

I have watched many moons go by, seen the

Seasons change outside my window.  I have

seen the Tulips bloom in spring, the wild flowers

scatter themselves among the tall grasses and

the young bushes trying to live. 

I watched the sparkle of campfires and fireplaces,

watched my body go from firm youthful skin to

wrinkles that I do not recognize, still I wait for you. 

Time does exist, lingers in light, darkness, the glow

of a fire in fall, I picture the boats bringing you to

me from the other side of the world, from the island

that is yours alone, I wait for you.

Now, it is time for me to stop my watch and wait,

time for me to turn the page away from dreaming

to reality, you will not come and rescue me from

the life that I have lived.  I have stop searching the

horizon, do not look for me, for I shall already be

dead. 

The winds of time passes through life, my heart has

taken roots on many shores.  It was not destined

for me to have love, it is too late, I have no more

tomorrows.  I am the flower whose petals have

blown away in the winds of spring, but, I do hope

that I am remembered when the snow falls.       

©2021.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

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A Passage into Madness: A State of Frenzied Activity: Johnson-Murphree, Elizabeth Ann: 9781688948990: Amazon.com: Books

The Empty Pine Box…#337

[Fighting with Words, Poetry or Prose are My Weapons.]  EAJM

The Empty Pine Box…#337

Horror haunted- trying to lay out one’s days – schedules

Keeping relentless. Isolated yet fearless, in this desert land

Called Cancer -"Oh God!" I say, "Object of evil – the devil!

I tell this soul with sorrow laden if, with the angels of healing

Protect me in this desert land called Cancer –

I walk on the black sands of time, unbroken in mind but sound

 In spirit.  Take this loneliness from my heart, keep evil from my

Soul.  Protect me in this desert land called Cancer –

I dream of demons, shadows surround me, am I protected?

It is in the night that I feel weak and weary.  It is the waking

That I find myself drenched with sweat.  Was there someone

Rhythmically shaking me awake.  Protect me in this desert land

Called Cancer –

The box in the corner, a pine box, empty.  Without fear, I face

My terror; my heart pounds in my chest.  I pray many times a

Day, my soul grows stronger.  The shadows are gone, only the

Drenching of my cloths give way to the nightmare.  I whisper,

“Please, no more”.  Protect me in this desert land

Called Cancer –

I believe that I hear the Black Crows calling outside my window.

It is a myth that they bring death, I close my ears to the sounds

Of the Ravens.  Birds or Beast, they break the confines of my soul

And I know they too will be gone soon.  I have wheeled myself

In front of my terror, depressing, frightening, evil. 

Protect me in this desert land called Cancer –

Author’s Books…

©2021.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

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Fear and Pain, a Gift…#336

 
It is through what I call a “brain fog” that I create “Fear and Pain, a Gift”.  I try to gather and put upon paper my thoughts.  I have stopped thinking of a day, one, two etc.; they run together and get in the way of what I want to say.  I send immense love to all of you, so many have kept me in their thoughts, as I have you.  You will never know how precious your prayers are to me.  EAJM

Fear and Pain, a Gift  


What is growing old all about?

It is not a new question for me,

I have given thought to the

Subject since I was young. 

Unloved by my mother, though

I always loved her dearly; she

Was emotionally absent in my

Life; as was my daddy in many

Ways.  So, at the start of this

Flight into the Imagination, the

Answer was Simple.  I would die

Very young!

II.

I did not want to be alone and

Unloved, dying young would

Prevent my fears from coming

Into the light of day; where I

Must face them.  Afraid to face

The truth, afraid to face reality. 

I provided the shell that would

Protect me.  I would not give into

My fears, and never have been

Afraid to die.

III.

Then at a very young age, I was

Married and gave birth to my

First daughter.  I was about to

Take a journey that would give

Me joy, unconditional love.  As

Each day passed I felt the strength

Of a “Warrior”, I was given the

Responsibility to take care of my

Child.  Strength, not decay. Each

Nerve in my body strung with a

Fierce message that it was not in

My youth that I dreamed it would

Be!  The golden days lay within

The realm of being a good mother,

As good as it could be, from day

Break to sunsets glow.

IV.

I soon looked at the world in a

Different light, my heart both wept

And shoved the fullness of the past,

Those years would lay dormant.  If

Not but for awhile!  I was never

Young, I lived in the hot prison of the

Present with a bruised mind and

Body.  What I felt deep within my

Heart would fester and grow, but it

Would never be a part of my being

A mother.  Masked emotion would

Be my past, present, and future.

V.

To suffer was the plan, not one from

Me but from as higher power.  I am

But a hollow ghost, a phantom of one

Who was given the greatest duty? 

The last stage is not one in pain and

Agony, but that of one that has been lifted

Toward the Heavens and on Earth has been

Given the greatest gift of them all, five

Wonderful souls, my children and being

Their mother.  Five brilliant children who

Love me unconditionally. I and my love

For them keeps me moving forward.

Day 2…#335

The first cancer treatment is a day behind me.  Today is worse than yesterday.  Weak, shaky, slight headache.  “Bad” blood cells have increased within one week from 70% to 80%, that window of 20% looks increasingly that it is going in the wrong direction.  Chemo is aggressive; I have 4 days to get to feeling better before the next round.  I have a wonderful physician, best in Wisconsin.  No, I have not given up…my body is at war at the moment.  Short note, but it’s about all I can manage today.  This brain fog I am in leaves no room for creating; however, I may try to post some older works.  The book has been set aside for now as well.  Have a great week, peace and praise to all of you.

EAJM   

The Birth of Madness…#333

Cotton, Southern Gold

The oppressed give birth to madness.  Loathing emotions

Born out of the pits of darkness holds an

When anger and depression fuse together,

Emptiness and void that can never find

Contentment.

Madness thinks of death, is in harmony with

Stillness.  It feels pain, lives in blackness,

Hopes for nothing; survives as a opponent

Living life.

Be aware…

Its name is madness; a spawn created of

Anger and depressions fusion.

©2021.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

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Life…#332

Life

With each mornings shaft of light 

I begin my conflict of words, sometimes 

I let the tears fall and sadness engulfs 

me.  Sometimes I smile!  I tell myself to 

“hush”; it is too late my soul dies further 

toward the end as time goes on.

Sometimes I am weak, my heart locked 

away too long?  Thoughts are concealed, 

feared, live and move forward out of blame.  

The heart beats on as the voices in my head 

feed from the heart with each beat.  My words 

continue quarreling with my mind.

Has life been no more that random destiny’s?  

How lighthearted my life has been, lies, 

lies to keep the outside world in dumbness.  

Daily I drink from the cup of dissension, 

and erratic thoughts, words, look into my soul, 

despite pending doom I float thoughtless in 

the river of my life with my words clinging 

to my throat like gnarled fingers.     

Buried in the cesspools gathering on the 

shore the river flows with ambiguity.  Life is 

eternally blind!  My words flow from within, 

buried in knowledge, found by fire.  The 

mystery of my heart beats, words line by line. 

 Am   I  worthless.  Hour after hour the 

words demand power, read what pulses 

through my veins.

Life flows, arrives and moves on, from 

morning glow to evening sunset; it winds 

through the valley’s filling with expression.  

The words, a story from the hours past, they 

rise from within to the page swirling in the 

cesspool at the river’s edge.  They cannot move

 on into the river of life, they must remain as 

the past.  I wait for the morning shaft of light

 and life.      

©2021.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

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