
(Haiku)
pommetier
bourgeonne dans la nuit
fleurira.

(haiku)
crabapple tree
budding promise,
in the night.
© Cheryl-Lynn 2014/05/12
Poetry ~ Waka
Since last December I have had many class interviews on the phone students about the work I do, working on a youth help line. One question that came out often, just warmed my heart. The fact that these youths were concerned about me! So when I saw this prompt to write a poem and start it with a question, this came to mind.

Don’t you feel sad when you go home at night
listening to unhappy stories about this or that?
Why I guess sometimes I do feel sad alright!
That is really sweet of you to ask me that.
Do you cry sometimes?
Why yes, I may feel a tear
run down my cheek
from time to time.
So how do you feel better?
I think you are wondering
how I practice self-care.
I am very much aware
I need to be mindful
of my feelings as well
or else I would not be capable
working here as long as I’ve been able.
I talk to my supervisor
some of the time
or a counsellor friend,
they always will lend
a good listening ear
so I can continue working
day after day right here.
I walk a lot, write a lot too
I read for distraction
and love comedy shows
like The Big Bank Theory
gets me laughing quite loudly.
There is always a counsellor
or manager available
to allow me to debrief
which is a great relief!
Thank you so very much
for asking and caring such!
© Cheryl-Lynn 2014/05/10
Submittted for: PookyDailyPoetryPrompt # 9 Open with a Question
la sénescence ne pardonne pas
La mémoire
est une faculté
qui oublie.
Senility is unforgiving.
Memory
is a faculty
that forgets.
*********
What if I don’t remember?
Every time
I don’t remember
a name, a street even a number
I do get queasy
inside my tummy.
what are my fears?
have my fair share.
driving about … anywhere
what if I lose my way out there?
I do get frightened
I’ll not come back
get lost in thought
take two wrong turns
and then I fear
I’ll lose my way…
but what about
my thoughts, my words
your face, your voice,
and all my memories?
that blasted
evil enemy
may visit me
some day …
and stay!
That shameful senility
may rob me of my dignity.
© Cheryl-Lynn, 2014/05/02
Submitted for: PookyPoetry Daily Prompts – What scares you?

Who am I? If I tell you who I truly am, what is left for me? I always thought this for a long time. How much we are guarded at times. How close to my chest must I hold my cards? If I tell a person a secret, well, something no one knows but me, will he/she still accept me? The answer is a) probably not b) no way c) maybe with time d) all of the above Well, I know, you, Emily, will accept me…you have no choice, you stuck, glued at the hip…poor you!!! {chuckles}
In the past 2 weeks I am reading some Daily Quips from ButterflySand and they are getting under my skin, not quite like those ghastly giant hives I get off and on but still they are making me think. Shoot! For a person who tends to overthink things to the point of insomnia, I’ve tried with all my might this past week to shove it under the carpet in that walk in closet of my soul. But darnit! it is persistent, consistent and pervasive like dust in our homes (Oh, how I love my home at night when dust is veiled with twilight!)
I reblogged a post by Dave Kester on Stop the Stigma and I invite you to check that as well because that post truly impacted on me and I think people may truly appreciate his humble candor in this piece on secrets we hold about our personal self.
My ruminating all started with a post on Rage also by Butter Sand and made me see how we all have our weaknesses or failings when we may just explode, be upset, get frustrated, become impatient and then there are explosions…yikes! One would have to wonder what brought that on, right? If we do it in the privacy of our own homes, we dismiss it after a few moments of feeling shame. But when it happens in front of a close friend, a child (even worse!) or in public (work, store, etc.) then we know we need to do something about it OR withdraw for fear it happens again…and not get too close for fear someone gets to know us TOO well. What if it is another type of flaw we harbour and don’t want anyone to know about us? How do we hide it? How is it nurtured to stay within us for so long? How does it settle like a comfy couch and yet…is it really that comfy?
Well, this writer/blogger/artist/poet made me think a lot. I am thinking that perhaps there is a reason I am noticing more posts of similar nature. Fate? Serendipity? …maybe I am at a place in my life where I AM supposed to be just about now.
DungeonPrompts are weekly prompts that allow bloggers to do some introspection, if they want, and write from a personal account OR a fiction, poem, story. This week it’s about Writing in the Flow. Well, that surely rings a bell. I read Julia Cameron’s book, The Artist’s Way years ago and did all the exercises in the book. I took a journaling class at U of T at St Michael’s College years ago as well, partly to unleash my creativity so I could write more but what happened was it opened my eyes to a lot of pent up stuff I was holding back. I suppose that too will hold back our creativity. Well, if you look at this week’s prompt you will see some quotes that Sreejit posted that allude to that fact as well.
So I read this prompt and another light goes on. The instructions are so similar to what I tell youths on the phone and yesterday in particular I repeated and did a relaxation/imagery meditation with several youths who phoned our service. I may do it once or twice a week but rarely so often in one shift. Nonetheless, I do find it fascinating that so many pieces are falling into place…feel like being visiting by old friends and family. Like anyone, we have people in our past we don’t care to revisit but some boomerang back because we have things to settle within ourselves…still.
And so some of my past readings are forcing me to do some serious introspection…thank goodness for poetry for some thoughts are articulated with a bit more grace…the good, the bad and the ugly. I tell you, Emily, I am so busy on overdrive with this pondering!
Today is May 1st and it does feel like a beginning as we enter, finally, in our neck of the woods. Pam at Butterfly Sands posts yet another lovely thought to ponder on her Daily Quip which I reblogged earlier this morning. This is how I want to end this reflection, Emily, on a positive note as she described that people don’t just love you despite your flaws but that our flaws are what make us…make ME and I’m wonderful…YOU are wonderful as you are!
Happy May!!!
Cheryl-Lynn 2014/05/01
Now how come I didn`t think of that?
How come I don’t think of listening to my favourite on-line radio station? I am on-line so much with work, with blogging and today I realized when I am home weekends, I often write in silence. Granted, sometimes I do prefer to shut out any distractions for my thoughts are enough and if I add lyrics and melody, I get overwhelmed and cannot concentrate. It`s different at work, however. If I am writing a “story to share” or on-line counselling, I may put in my ear buds and listen to music to block out the business and voices heard on crisis call centres.
Today I was chatting with a cyber friend/writer/poet extraordinaire/blogger and sharing how I also love music and how it can impact on my mood. No surprise there, right? Look at folks who listen to music on the street, on the bus, train and Métro. You see some bobbing their heads, swaying, lip singing, moving their shoulders and walking is sort of cool too. Oh, Oh, That reminds me! Have you ever noticed when you are driving in the car especially in the city during a busy time and you are listening to funky music or rock and roll (whatever is your pleasure)? Observing the pace of some pedestrians seem to match just perfectly the beat of a song you are listening to. That is so cool! Haha, it is funny when it is a fast upbeat tune and you see some people pick up their pace to beat the light or of course if you are a Montrealer, well, we just jaywalk…sometimes quickly sometimes not so quickly. If you`re the driver being cut off by a warm body, well, you have to stop…so that may interrupt your music mood for a few seconds. Just crank up the volume and let it go and enjoy the harmony and not your inner frustration…It`s Montreal! deal with it (smiles) it is part of our culture.
I think that is something I may want to work on a bit now…patience and driving. The cyclists especially are out and in the city they usually do not think of motorists, so I need to be mindful of that and pretend I have a twin that is on her bike just as I am leaving for work in my car. Oh, yeah, and leaving a bit earlier may help to avoid that “road rage”. {Gotta work on that one!}
Back to my original question, why didn`t I think of that? Since I am so often on-line, I must remember to log on to Jango.com a free radio station that you can add ONLY your music delights, favs and no commercials. I guess I stopped a few years ago when our agency put in a firewall that blocked that site…but still, I can use it at home…and that is exactly what I am doing now as I write this post. I am listening to Phoebe Snow right now crooning Poetry Man. Now how appropriate is that, that I am ending this with this song playing? Serendipity? Coincidence? Nah, I’ll leave those questions for another question for Linda Hill`s Stream of consciousness prompts {wink wink}.
© Cheryl-Lynn 2014/04/26
“This post is part of SoCS: http://lindaghill.wordpress.com/2014/04/25/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-april-2614/ ”
Reading on public transit again
Lately I have gone back to reading a book on the bus and subway on my way to work. My son scolded me last week for being such an easy target to some people reading on my smart phone. He took my Samsung Note, waved it in the air saying, “Yoo hoo, come and pick me! It’s worth $700” and it sounded more like “No need to pick pocket, it is yours for the taking.” We then had a discussion about that. I mentioned I rarely took my phone out on the subway because I had seen three teens grab a man’s phone and run out the doors just before they were closing. Well, he scolded me even more as if I were his child or student (he’s a high school teacher).
“Yeah but,” I started. Gee, come to think of it 25 years ago when he was 10, he was the one who always said, “Yeah but, Dad” arguing a point with his dad. I had nicknamed him Yabut instead of Abbot! I tried to assure him that people riding the bus off the island of Montreal to the suburbs all read on their phones, i-pads etc. He kept shaking his head, lifted his hands in the air, “Do what you want. This is why women are such easy targets. Rarely will a woman run after someone who grabs her phone or tablet. And people who mean to steal know that.” Well, I guess he is right there and it was not the time to say it was actually a young man who got robbed on the subway the other day and it was “taken by surprise” that wins usually. And I was touched that he was concerned about his mom.
So this week I started going back to my old habits which is nice because I also missed reading. I am very expressive wherever I may be, such as a doctor’s waiting room, the license bureau or a bus. When I get to a passage that moves me, I will smile, chuckle and yes, cry too. The first three chapters of The Hunger Games, I wore my sunglasses on the subway because I could NOT stop the tears, the violence (physically and emotionally) was just so intense. I only read this book last year because so many youths who call read it and wanted to be a bit more in touch with some characters. If the kids are anything like me, we tend to relate and get some characters under our own skin. I was Nancy Drew and Cathy Ames for years as a child, then as a teen became Marie Curie. Oh, I was Sainte Thérese for many years too and would be washing those floors for Mother Superior day after day after day. “I never promised you a Rose Garden” was one book Sister Dufferin gave me when I was 15 and I could not finish the book as I became Sylvia…I could literally hear all the voices dragging me into their consciousness, I thought I was losing my mind. I eventually read the book in my early thirties. Later I tried to read the diaries of Virginia Wolfe and managed two and a half but had to stop, as there too, I became that scared, frightened child who grew up so misunderstood by her “expert” doctors.
That said, {I digress. Yes, I know…I am getting there, Emily but you know me. I get sidetracked sometimes}, I like to read some books my callers read to see what is “affecting or infecting” their minds. Violence does not seem to affect youths as it did me as a youth. I suppose you could blame it on violent video games but let’s face it. Really! Let’s be honest. When I was growing up I found Bugs Bunny and Road Runner quite funny and they are sooo violent! It is just the scenery that has changed but perhaps we are not that much different. I really don’t know the answser to that one.
I remember going to a movie with a friend/volunteer from a distress centre, years ago in Toronto. He had made dinner at his condo and we ate and chatted a bit too long. Well, I AM a woman and a chatterbox, and he is Italian…so meals tend to drag on a long time. We arrived at the cinema just in time but most of the good seats were taken. We had to sit in the front. I still do not remember the movie except it was terribly violent and Vince and I would hide our eyes so often. I recall turning around to look at the teens and young adults sitting around us and they did not “appear” to be troubled by this. It dawned on me then, how many “seem” desensitized to violence. If that is the case, how can we stop the violence and wars that exist today? Most youths will tell me scoffing, “We know it’s not real!” But I wonder if the mind can be exposed to all that blood and gore and still…
Now, Emily, how the heck did I get on reading to violence again? Oh yeah, my emotional reaction wherever I read…yeah, that’s it. Maybe I am old enough to not care if I am reading Erma Bombeck and chuckling alone at the back of the bus, or weeping at a tragic passage or part that makes me reflect on my life. When a book, story, article or poem does that to me, it means the writer touched my soul.
© Cheryl-Lynn 2014/04/25