Who's Kidding Who? by Christine Stromberg - HTML preview

Sentence Without Reprieve

On days like this I wonder why, why I crawled put of the slime,

simply sleeping my life away seems such a waste of time,

such a pointless existence such a futile attempt.

There's no-one here to know or care whether the place is unkempt

whether I bother to dress myself, whether I eat or drink

if I have energy enough to rouse myself to think.

It wasn't always this way; once I had a life

those days were filled with doing, with laughter or with strife.

Now that energy is scarce life often seems too hard,

it's a rare and precious commodity, something I jealously guard

but on days like this when sleep is all, all that I can achieve

I wonder how I'll ever survive this sentence without reprieve.

© 2002

Brain Fog.

I forget to pay my bills, I forget to take my pills,

I forget to clean my teeth and brush my hair;

Most mornings I get changed into clothes however strange,

Though some days I'm too tired to even care.

I forget to clean or dust, though who's to say I must

When there's no-one here to notice anything?

And last month I forgot to arrange my bulbs in pots,

So I won't have any flowers in the spring.

I forget to make a drink, leave my dishes in the sink;

I forget about the toast under the grill;

And although it may seem crazy, my brain is just so hazy

I forget to ring the doctor when I'm ill!

I struggle through the days, my thoughts a misty haze,

Trying to make sense of why I'm here.

My children rarely call, one never does at all,

And yet I feel I ought to persevere.

I rarely leave the house, I'm as quiet as a mouse,

So people rarely notice me at all;

The postman calls of course; the aggravating source

Of piles and piles of junk mail in the hall.

No-one bothers me, so I read or watch TV,

I write to penfriends, paint; and stuff like that;

And sometimes when I'm sad, or the pain is really bad,

I go to bed and snuggle with my cat.

And now it's mid November, and I hope I can remember

To send a birthday card that's almost due.

It's for my grandson, Kain; I can't forget again,

He'll think I just don't care - and that's not true.

It's just that I forget. I wish that I could get

A brain that functions normally, you know.

And while I'm asking, please - some brand new batteries;

So I won't be such a sad old so-and-so.

© 2003

Climbing Everest With Shakespeare.

As I lie here on my bed I wonder what the future holds;

resting gets so boring when even reading wears you out.

I have a radio of course though interference ruins it.

When sorrows come they come not single spies but in battalions.

Just getting up to feed the cat is something of a challenge.

That it should come to this...

Imagine climbing Everest, that should give you some idea.

A horse! A horse! My Kingdom for a horse!

Then back upstairs to bed and back to boring nothingness;

to die, to sleep; to sleep, perchance to dream...

Later on I'll go online and chat or write a bit.

O Romeo, Romeo!  wherefore art thou Romeo?

This world wide web is such a boon.

I like this place and willingly could waste my time in it.

© 2003