Written: March 5, 2012
Updated: March 11, 2012
Listen to nurse's report including the news
that Joe and Wilma like each other.
Check all rooms and find that Roger is out of his bed
and down on the floor again.
(Hip not broken yet.)
Answer Wanda's light to calm her justified paranoia
because she knows that she is somewhere other
than her home but just can't figure out where that is.
Answer Jeremy's light to help him sip his water
while he giggles at his favorite T.V. show.
Accept his thanks and feel your heart break again to see a
45 year old man who can no longer control his limbs be so
appreciative of such a small act of kindness...big act of kindness.
Check on Jack even though he doesn't turn on his light
because you hear suspicious noises coming from his room.
Help Jack to bed after you find him swatting an
imaginary fly with an imaginary fly swatter.
Try to re-position Emma so that she is comfortable
even though her limbs are fetal-position frozen.
Kindly lie to yourself about her comfort so that you can
control your guilt when leaving the room.
Go into Jackie's room when she starts her usual screaming
that "she doesn't want to be here, and her family hates her
and that's why she's here."
Kindly lie to her and control your shame because you know that
what she is saying probably is true.
Answer ex-model Mabel's light and listen to her story about
how she could have married Groucho Marx, but that she married
her true-love instead.
Feel a sense of sad pride when Anna proudly explains to you
how she keeps track of her day by tracking her activities as she
would have for patients when she was a nurse.
Keep taking care of and giving these people (not patients)
love every chance that you get.
Gail's notes: Portrait of Joe and Wanda is the sequel to this. To protect the privacy of those who have lived before us, the names have been fictionalized, and the events semi-fictionalized.
Written by Gail DeBole
When a turkey, who yearly escapes
From his owner's Thanksgiving plate,
Was asked to reveal
Why he's never a meal
He said, "That much of a turkey I ain't!"
Note: Thanksgiving is celebrated on the fourth Thursday of each November in the United States. President Abraham Lincoln proclaimed this as an official holiday in 1863.
Written by Gail DeBole
I dyed it.
The dye did not take.
So I pulled it out.
Then I climbed to the highest building and shoved it off.
It boomeranged when it hit the ground and came back to me.
Then I tried to bury it so deep within the ground that
I only succeeded in tunneling to the other side of the world.
And it was still with me.
I threw it off into the sunset.
The moon's shine threw it back at me.
I folded it umpteen times and paper clipped it to
Last week's newspaper for recycling.
It was recycled back to me.
I hung it in a facade of suicide.
It slipped through the noose.
I stamped on it.
Beat at it.
Did everything besides forget about it.
And hated it passionately.
And then one day, it had gone.
Of its own will, not mine.
And I could not find it though I searched high and low.
I surveyed the front of my scalp and back
And stared my victory down into the mirror...
A whole head of grey.
Written by Gail DeBole on March 5, 2014
Updated on March 6, 2014
Online had evolved and
Email was passe
People were E-talking
Without having to "say"
The device in their minds
Allowed them to discuss
By transmitting E-thoughts
To someone they trust
E-thoughts thoroughly recorded
By E-Thinking Police
Bad news for everyone
Who didn't hold proper beliefs
Good news for everyone
Who embraced the day
When safety became prevalent
In a techno-invasive way
Will complete loss of privacy
Be the price people have to pay
So that most can live
In a safe, comfortable way?
What do you think that life in Year 2095 will be like?
Written in 1997
There once was a toe that was big
and was helpful when dancing a jig.
At times it was stubbed,
and washed in a tub
and, when young, spent some time in a crib.
Note: Part of the Portrait Collection
Written on May 17, 2012
Mr. Phiburn, a man who had tried
To live not by the sword, but all lies
No surprise where he went
For him, eternity was spent
Wearing pants that were
Very well fried.
Inspired by: “Liar, liar pants on fire”
Gail's Note: To those who have commented on my poetry within the past few weeks. Thank you, and I apologize for my non-responsiveness. I haven't been able to be as involved with the soup recently. I hope to become more involved again within the next few weeks or so.
WHO was the dastard - Moriarty again?
WHAT was the reason for kidnapping Watson, my friend?
WHEN did Moriarty strike?
WHERE could Watson be?
WHY is Moriarty always instigating dastardly deeds?
For Harry Horseman's 5-W's contest
Written on August 13, 2012
Cluttering the blue -
A thick white line of a cloud.
The jet races away.
November 17 - Submitted in Your Best Haiku contest
Written by Gail DeBole
Pink polka-dotted skin stretching body-wide.
Bulges interrupting other-wise peaceful areas.
Spots of lotion and cherry-flavored tongue
Across the room, stacked in safety;
Precious dollies that will be played with another day.
With forever smiles.
One last sniffle for the night.
A hankie is tossed into the glass that serves as a hoop.
Nostrils attempt to function, and a sudden cough
Shocks the precious dollies.
Their smiles remain.
Written by Gail DeBole on January 26, 2013
Whiskers and wisdom all in one.
Generously and gently protecting us.
Every grandchild thought they were your favorite.
You in your long johns at night.
Joking during the day like Groucho Marx.
Sleeping in your favorite chair.
Smoking smelly cigars that callously killed you.
And yet I treasure one of the boxes left from those smelly cigars.
The farm was not the same without you.
We were not the same without you.
I was too young to know.