Carpe Diem 7 Days before Christmas: Peace Within: A Senryu

Image by Maciej Szewczyk from Pixabay

to have peace within

heart and mind beneath the skin

the greatest of gifts

Friday Flashback + Fat Friday: Dreaming of a Mythos Xmahanukwanzyule

This post was originally published on 20 December 2011 on the Miskatonic University Netherworld Annex blog, which is currently in use as one of my private cataloging blogs. I am updating the post to include reactions to this lovely Xmahanukwanzyule tree, which is currently set up in President Cthulhu's office at the Miskatonic University Netherworld Annex main branch in Nightmare Heights, Netherworld.

Beavis: Hey, Butthead, that tree touched my butt!

Butthead: Beavis, that tree would kick your butt, you bumhug.

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Cactus Clem: Grover, I feel a kinship with this here tree. It speaks to me!

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Ghost Town Grover: When Cactus Clem says this here tree speaks to him, I'm purty sure he means that literal-like. It ain't said nary a word to me, but I kinda feel like it's watching me.

Sketch of Cthulhu by H.P. Lovecraft

So, why are we making this a Fat Friday post?

Because EVERY BODY deserves to have a Happy Xmahanukwanzyule free of body-shaming bullshit. That includes everyone from the mighty Cthulhu to YOU!

Happy Xmahanukwanzyule to All

And to all a good XHAGRALLLGHHHNZZZZ!

IÄ, IÄ!

Special thanks to the handy Alt Codes page.

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 2019: Day 28: Grateful

Image by Matthias Cooper from Pixabay

grateful for what's here

a town far from everything

life in an old house

impossible dreams fade out

bittersweet acceptance in

~Cie~

Notes:

Today's November PAD Chapbook Challenge prompt asked for a Gratitude poem.

People, you know me. I am not the sort to write heartwarming, Chicken Soup for the Soul, grateful for God and family and Better Homes and Gardens type poetry. I am an agnostic curmudgeon, and the only miracle here is that I'm still alive. They ain't found a way to kill me yet, and neither have I. I believe there is something that survives the death of the corporeal body, and I believe there are advanced spiritual forces which could be termed higher powers. I don't like the Church God, and although I'm willing to judge his followers on a case by case basis, I tend to be mightily skeptical of them.

I was raised Catholic and am the black sheep of a family that tried way too hard to keep up appearances. Today is the ninth anniversary of my father's passing. Although we had a sometimes contentious relationship and he passed his own insecurities down to me, he was a devoted father and I love him. I am glad he isn't suffering anymore. The last five years of his life were increasingly difficult. In the end, he really wasn't himself anymore.

I want to call my mother today. My mother is a loyal person who is too wrapped up in keeping up appearances to see the damage that mindset does. She has no idea who I actually am or what I'm really doing because anytime I have tried to tell her, she shuts me down and criticizes me, so I just let her think what she wants.

My brother and I were once the greatest of friends but now have a civil but distant relationship. 

I love my son with all my heart and soul. There are some hurts from the past from when my mental illness was as yet undiagnosed and my behavior was chaotic.

Leonard Cohen wrote the line "It's Father's Day and everybody's wounded."

I think the same could be said for most holidays.

If you're having a Better Homes and Gardens Thanksgiving, that's great, and I hope you enjoy it. I would just ask that you realize that this is not the case for everyone, and those of us who are unable to have Shiny Happy Holidays are not bad people or just feeling sorry for ourselves for attention. The hurt is real.

Just to lighten the load a bit, here's one of my favorites:

Carpe Diem #1773: Tanka: Bury Me on the Lone Prairie

Image Copyright Aubrey Danielle

when my time is done

I want my last breaths to be

on the lone prairie

not in a hospital room

I leave with the whistling wind

~Cie~

Notes:

You happier chappies are probably saying "ugh, there goes that gloomy old Cie with another gloomy poem." But I don't think this poem is gloomy. I think it's real.

I worked in long-term care for most of the 25 years that I was in the medical field. I think that people who work in this setting tend to become very adamant that we do not want to end up dying in a medicalized setting.

My father died in a hospice center. It was a peaceful place with a spacious, comfortable room. He was in constant pain and losing his capacity to think and remember things. It was much better than being in a hospital or nursing home. But for myself, I don't want my end to be even that medicalized. I want to look out the window and see my Lone Prairie before I rise up and walk away on the wind that constantly blows in these parts.

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Ghost Town Grover Sez:

"Dagnabit, Ornery, ya morbid ole cuss! Ya done went and made Cactus Clem gloomy with all yer chatter about croakin'. Now, I know I'm a ghost, but I've been a ghost fer near to 110 years. We ghosts like to whoop it up on Halloween night, but I ain't gonna be doin' much whoopin' it up if I've gotta be tryin' to cheer Cactus Clem up. So, what the heck are you gonna do about it?"

Image by nancy sticke from Pixabay

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Cactus Clem Sez:

"Aw, thanks Ornery! Them ghost puppies is jest the thing to cheer a feller!"

Happy Halloween from the Grover Hotel Gang

The Cheese Grates It: The Cheesy One's (Gloomy, Sorry) Holiday Message for 2017

Happy holidays, People, however you may celebrate them.

Apologies in advance for being a killjoy with a somber PSA. Please keep in mind that the holidays aren't happy for everybody. This doesn't make the unhappy person "bad" or "a Scrooge." It just means the holidays are hard for them.

I am having an extremely blue Christmas, partially for reasons that I'm sure most people could understand at least a bit. The majority of the big losses I've had have come in the Winter months, particularly in November. I jokingly said that I have re-named November Butt Month because nothing good has ever come of it, and people got mad at me. For fuck's sake, I'm not saying that if you have a birthday in November you're worthless. I'm just saying that I've had a lot of losses in November and this was my hyperbolic, snarky, and ultimately worthless and impotent way of striking back.

It was like an extra twist of the knife to have my Star Shower projector stolen. I don't put up a tree because the cats just destroy it. I didn't want to get another cheap string of lights because the instant one burns out, you might as well throw the whole string away. What a waste. So I got the Star Shower for something a little different. Then it got stolen, and I didn't end up getting any other decorations. 

I know it's a small thing, not like that guy whose son is getting a kidney transplant and some lousy porch pirate pilfered $5000 of very important medication that was left on his porch. I know I'm overreacting. Not on the outside, I appear calm and rational. It's all on the inside. I have bipolar disorder. My brain loves to do that shit. 

He once said that the only place he found peace was when he was playing.

I hope he is finding peace now that he is free of his very ill body.

I know people also think I'm stupid for grieving a person whom I didn't know in life. I can't really explain how or why this affected me so strongly, but it has. There is a certain magic gone from the world and the realization has come hard that I had a lot of useless and futile dreams for myself when I was younger. I was a foolish and unrealistic person.

The truth is, I would commit suicide, but I worry greatly about what would happen to my son if I were gone, so I hang on. Aside from my son and his well-being, I have nothing to live for.

Do me a favor and don't whip out the old "but, counseling and meds!" chestnut. I'll be 53 years old in less than two months. I've lived with a mood disorder at least since I hit puberty. I was nine years old when the hormones kicked in and I started growing boobs which I didn't want because I knew the gross way in which men reacted to breasts, and I started to get hair on my bits and pits. I didn't want that either. That bit of WTMI gives you the idea of how long I've lived with this shit. There's nothing new under the sun.

Just believe me that I already know what the options are and they haven't worked. I'm being honest about how I feel. Let's leave it at that.

I once learned a song called "What If A Day." It was written by Thomas Campion in the Elizabethan era. I have a horrible voice not fit to be heard by anything with ears, but I often sing this to myself. For me, it embodies the truth.

What if a day, or a month, or a yeare

Crown thy delights with a thousand sweet contentings?

Cannot a chance of a night or an howre

Crosse thy desires with as many sad tormentings?

          Fortune, honor, beauty, youth

          Are but blossoms dying;

          Wanton pleasure, doating love,

          Are but shadowes flying.

          All our joyes are but toyes,

          Idle thoughts deceiving;

          None have power of an howre

          In their lives bereaving.

Earthes but a point to the world, and a man

Is but a point to the worlds compared centure:

Shall then a point of a point be so vaine

As to triumph in a seely points adventure?

          All is hassard that we have,

          There is nothing biding;

          Dayes of pleasure are like streames

          Through faire meadowes gliding.

          Weale and woe, time doth goe,

          Time is ever turning:

          Secret fates guide our states,

          Both in mirth and mourning.

And there you have it. 

I hope you have a happy holiday. Forgive me if I don't.

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~

Friendly Fill-Ins November 18 2016

 1. One Thanksgiving tradition I have is stuffing my face. Although I don't stuff it with nearly the gusto that I used to in the days of my youth.

2. Black Friday is to be avoided like a deadly plague.

3. The best part about Thanksgiving Day is the food. Yeah, I said it.

4. One Thanksgiving six years ago my mother helped my father eat what would be his last meal in this world. He passed away in the hospice center approximately 2 days later, at around 5:30 A.M. on November 28 2010.

Happy Independence Day If You Celebrate Such

The above flag is the Gadsden Flag, designed by American general Christopher Gadsden in 1775. 

This was my late father's favorite American flag. He flew it every Independence Day.

My father was a great fan of Independence Day. He was a great believer in what it stood for.

He also liked fireworks.

Make that loved fireworks.

My father would be horrified at the mess that is this year's election.

You can stop reading here if you don't want political opinion with your hot dogs and fireworks.

My father was a Libertarian rather than a Republican. He and I didn't agree on a lot of things in the political spectrum. However, we did agree that protecting the environment was an imperative. I tended to sway things towards talking about the environment, and then the conversation went well.

My father probably would have voted for a third party candidate rather than putting in a vote for either Donald T. Rump or Hillary Clinton.

I am of the opinion that Hillary Clinton is the lesser of two evils and will thus vote for her, regardless of the fact that I really don't care for her. I don't think she will do as much damage as The Donald.

Any way you look at it, we're screwed. So I'll take the "screwed" that at least has the decency to bring along lube.

Crass jokes aside, my reasoning will follow.

I identify as a liberal politically, but I am not fond of neoliberalism Neoliberalism believes in such things as legalizing prostitution, which I do not. Neoliberalism believes in such things as a cafe where a man can get a blow job with his coffee. I do not. 

As a woman, I feel that neoliberalism sees me as just as much of an object as reactionary conservatism, it just sees me as a piece of ass whereas reactionary conservatism sees me as an indentured servant.

I am a liberal. I am not a neoliberal.

I believe in equal treatment for all people: people of all races, men, women, intersexed people, transgender people, people of all sexual orientations. I believe in the separation of church and state. I believe that we must socialize our medical system because the current mess we're in is killing people.

I also believe that we're in one hell of a fix right now.

The fellow who was my school's class president the year that I graduated is a very conservative Mormon. He is also a very kind and considerate person, and although he and I are on opposite ends of the political spectrum, we respect one another. He is not fond of Hillary Clinton, but he is appalled by Donald Trump and found himself wondering how the Republican party could ever have ended up nominating this monster.

The great documentary filmmaker Ken Burns wonders how Christians could vote for Trump. He points out that Trump lusts after his own daughter and makes crass and hateful statements about women's breasts and bodies.

"How is that in any way Christ-like?" Mr. Burns asks.

Thus, I will be voting for Hillary Clinton, although I'm far from fond of her.

Hillary Clinton reminds me a bit of Margaret Thatcher. 

People in Britain sang "Ding Dong the Witch Is Dead" when Thatcher died.

I really do not want Hillary Clinton in the White House. 

However, I would far rather have Margaret Thatcher in the White House than Josef Stalin without the class, which is what I feel Donald Trump is.

We lose either way, but where Mitt Romney would have set back the clock on treatment of women and minorities to the 1950's, Trump will set it back to the time of the Civil War. 

Trump is so bad that I would choose Romney over Trump.

Trump is a racist who sees women as pieces of ass. Never mind how badly people with disabilities, including mental illness, would fare in a Trump regime.

Trump mocking a disabled reporter. You can't make this shit up.

Even if Trump is mostly ineffective during his time in office, having someone like him with attitudes like his in the highest office in the land sets the tone for treating those in lesser social positions like shit. The gains that have been made in securing protection for non-whites, for women, for those who do not identify as heterosexual, for intersexed and transgender people, for people with disabilities, either physical or mental, will be either eradicated or set back. 

A Hillary Clinton presidency might be a nightmare, but a Trump presidency is an express elevator to hell.

Please, let's at least preserve the mess we've got. 

We really can't allow things to get worse.

 Happy Fireworks, Barbecue, and Don't Tread On Me Flag Day.

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~

 

Crafty Artwork not mine