A Poetic Prescription

Just in time for the cold and flu season, not to mention anything else that might slow a body down to a crawl when we feel we can ill afford it comes this little ditty.  It was actually written for someone I know from work who looked and felt like crap, yet still insisted on coming in.  Instead of yelling at or giving them the slap upside their head they so richly deserved, I made them my muse and wrote this.  It's not perfectly worded or metered and as poetry goes, it's not my most stellar stuff.  Yet, people have been asking for copies of it.  You know I don't get it.

Love it, hate it, copy it, give me credit for it, but above all, take it to heart.


A Poetic Prescription

Not at your best
And wanting to rest
You push through it because it’s expected

But try as you might
your body knows what is right
and does opposite what your brain has elected

It’s not malingering you show
It’s malaise, as you know
A symptom that something is wrong

Cells scream, “Take it easy!”
(Yes I know this is cheesy)
And if you listen it won’t be as long

Slower steps, shorter days
Do less, friend, just laze
The wiser person in your head knows this is true

For the world will go on
And soon this will be gone
And you’ll be back to being a good as new you

Lauren Swartzmiller
08/2011

The End is Not Nigh

Well, I realize there are a few hours to go before my time zone passes quietly into October 22, 2011 and that there are a few more times zones to go before the entire planet slips from 10/21 to 10/22 without apocalyptic incident.  But, hey, I'll be sleeping by then.


So many have predicted the end of the world unsuccessfully before, some more than once. The world is less than perfect and the Creator will now be coming in and taking the good little children to Heaven and the bad little children will be heading in the other direction. Sometimes, the date is vague and is supposed to land between certain days, or the date is declared as an absolute. Either way, the believers will be prepared and the non-believers, aka the rest of us, regardless of whether or not we've lived good and just lives, won't be setting foot in paradise simply because we didn't agree. The days come and the days go and we're all still here. Those who predicted otherwise may simply go silent or may take the "Cataclysm's Gonna Happen" stand again. And again. Thing is, there are just so many times you can cry wolf when there isn't one before the village ignores you.

The end-sayers are right, though. Eventually, there'll be an end of days for this little semi-solid ball of rock we call Earth. It might be long after we're gone and the cockroaches are taking their turn at running the place into the ground, or the planet and all its inhabitants may go together in one big unanticipated -- or perhaps anticipated, but unavoidable -- moment of our sun going nova. It seems to be the way the universe works sometimes.

It is true that many people will die today. It happens every day. We don't like it, especially when it's violent, possibly avoidable, and someone close to us (or even us), but it's the normal process of things. Circle of life, whatever you want to call it. Sometimes we can prepare for it, make peace with ourselves and those around us, and await whatever comes after this existence. Sometimes we can't. We generally don't know when that day will come and I for one don't really want to know. There's so much to do, to see, to experience, even if it's in the routine of this day and the next. Knowing might spoil some of the joy. I don't think we should live our lives in anticipation of a holy rapture, but instead should be enraptured in the beauty and challenges before us here and now. I have a feeling that's really how it's supposed to be.

With that thought, I end this entry and prepare for bed. I live in anticpation of waking up tomorrow morning, feeding cats, making coffee, exercising and just enjoying the two days off from work as I usually do. If I'm meant to bore you again with my words after today, don't worry, I will.

My Friend of Many Years

Simply drawn and simply named The Protestor.  I first started drawing him back in 1970.  He is my alter ego -- flower child, silent protestor, the perennial hippie creature.

You may not see much of him as he's been likened to a variation of Cousin Itt of "The Addams Family" fame, which he is not.  Any similarity to Charles Addams cartoon creation was and is unintentional.  However, I did promise a while ago that I would post his picture.

Enjoy.

Has it Really Been Ten Months?

At the beginning of the year, I sat down and wrote myself a set of goals for 2011.  Yes, I suppose they were resolutions and, as we all know, were meant to be broken.  Some were, some weren't.  Unfortunately, one of the ones that was broken was to goal to write more.  Online, offline, doesn't matter -- haven't done it, and yes, it has been just about 10 months since I've posted anything here. 

I can make the excuse that life got in the way, but I think everyone would agree it's a poor excuse.  At the most happy, sad or hectic times of my life, I'd always found time to write something. 

I can make the excuse that I had nothing to write about.  However -- and no offense to other other bloggers -- I've seen way too many blog posts that were made out of e-air, possibly hot air as well.  That excuse, too, doesn't fly.

Finally, I can make the excuse that I wasn't feeling like writing anything, that my intangible muse was on the world trek I should have taken and was presently in Venice without me, leaving me with a dirth of creative keyboard conversations.

Yeah, right.  I've said in the past that when I stop having the urge to write to bury me.  NOT YET - NOT READY!!!!

Excuse me now while I call said muse home and yank his passport.

Ah, Venice.