Gray Matters 1 (Giving Thanks) Gray Matters 2 (Testing)

GRAY MATTERS 1 : GIVING THANKS

What is this gray, furrowed cranial lump
wrinkled into swisscheesy folds?
MY BRAIN?! (How dull!)
It no longer molds to my skull!
…What was once a tight fit,
now sloshes much too loosely ,
sized wrong from ear to ear.
I feel a squeeze in my chest ‘
when I confess,
I’ve grown a size smaller up there.
Each drop in height or width,
costs me more memories
causing despair.
Every thought or reminiscence is
somewhere burrowed between each furrow,
busy
pulling up the ladders that make the connections; thus I lose my directions.
I stop to mourn each time my meandering mind cannot make a self-correction.
I grope for that A-Ha! EUREKA!
A connection to open up those miles of files,
to find that bridge across the abyss.
I think I’ve GOT IT! I say it, (sigh*)
T’was but a miss.
Shock, polite looks avert from my pain…
so I try again…and again.
Those sleepy furrows shunt my thoughts, down odd chutes miswrought, untaught, caught
in the cabinet labeled”
“I thought you said…”
“It sounds like_____, starts with a …..K
?
(please, don’t look away)
“You know who I mean,……. he was married to whatshername, who once starred in, youknow, that TV show with….that British guy with hair gone gray…..?
?
….(I’m getting a rash, sweat pours down front and back) Youknow….that actor that reminds me a little of my 3rd grade teacher…….
Such garbage slips glib from my lips.
You notice my struggle so politely,
Both of us pretend it’s “normal” so tred lightly .
I’m here! It’s still ME! Licking my wounded ego,
hoping you won’t go.
I need you so.
You ‘ve helped me grow.
This I now know:
Perhaps that extra space now freed up
between ears,
behind smiling face….
Just perhaps there is some use
for this cranial abuse !
More room might allow
less gloom to seep through.
glorious vistas, friends and family ties
have spaces to be.
Hallelluja! Such graces to see.
Perhaps the gift of less memory in this newly elevated
real estate,
is the space
I can share love, new connections to all,
drown out that self –hate
and destructive pall.
Now I care, I share it with all in a similar boat.
Guess what guys? WE FLOAT!
My thinker’s still ticking, We’re still kicking,
and best of all:
New memories are now sticking!!
Our bain, OUR BRAIN, is now our blessing,
GIVE THANKS
AND PASS THE DRESSING.

AMEN.
(written while awaiting Thanksgiving guests’ arrival) 11/10

GRAY MATTERS 2 : TESTING 1,2,3,4

To testers of all matters gray…
I have just this to say:
You presume to know who I was, what I’ve lost., what it cost me. You try to “reconstruct” how it went, measure with numbers and try to make sense
of this by now humdrum
conundrum.
How can you see ME? We only just met yet already the chill wind was let
inside those new spaces, blowing away all traces of how it was. It makes me sad.
AH ha! How sad, you ask?
On a scale from 1 to 10, you’ve slipped in self-esteem and positive attitude, hmmmm. From a 9 to, let’s see, why………
we’ve found a new latitude!……
You say you cry more?
You’re now a 4!
That range is…..a tad poor, but see here, there’s a LOT more room to decrease for sure, before you slip out the proverbial door.
But wait! There’s MORE! Now you qualify for
drugs galore!
You have the proper score!

What an ass! Those numbers aren’t me. I speak up at last:
Let’s trade places for a day. See how YOU’d feel bare and bereft that way. Not taken seriously, left with pats on the back, you-look-greats , see- you- soons
though deliriously wishing they’d look and listen to what I want to say.
Be me for a day…..de-smirk that professional demeanor.
I know every score, feel each slip more and more……
watching me and my esteem melt into the
stonegray floor.

Irrelevant, that score.
Just tell me please, how I can salvage my ME ?
I loved who I was, who I used to be.
She’s not the one whom YOU now see.

Measure away, get it right. Watch me drain back into some crack in my brain, out of sight.
A score of scores won’t be able
to bring ME back to your table,
You see……

….Today is the best I’ll ever be

Fire away your questions and scores at me, but
Let me introduce you to who I am now, for…
next time I won’t remember you,
anyhow.

(Oct 2010)

Gray Matters 1 (Giving Thanks) Gray Matters 2 (Testing)

sandhill

Joined March 2008

  • Artist
    Notes

Artist's Description

2 poems about loss of memory, loss of self. They were triggered by upcoming neuro-psych evals. Scary stuff.

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