Rushing back with my shout
drinks held aloft skew-whiff.
I was spun all around
like a wild water spout,
caught by brush
flush with haste
shame's a gush
blush disgraced
crowd's hush-hush
The pain increases every day
bit by bit, I have no say
I do what I can to ease it all
but it’s been a real long-haul
from cramping feet to head in a vice
swollen fingers, no paradise
aching hips, joints all stiff
inner workings gone skew-whiff
pins & needles, exhaustion too
I get no help, so I push through
muscles ache, it’s hard to heal
feel like perhaps I got a raw deal
Insomnia, brain fog, twitches & more
just some of the symptoms I endure
no two days are ever the same
Its wretched Fibro’s twisted game
The invisible illness no one sees
a chronic condition considered a disease
widespread pain & yet I smile
but some days wish I could turn down the dial.
When life has gone skew-whiff
And best laid plans have gone awry
When everything is topsy turvy
And you're winging it on the fly
There is something you can do
To rectify the situation
Don't waste another moment
Go and run off on vacation
It's a radical approach
Not to stay and tough it out
And instead hope problems disappear
When you are not about
Lying under a palm tree
Drinking pina coladas while you read
May not change your problems -
But its probably what you need
see the seesaw sea
send its waves to rock
the barrel stave wooden seahorse
to and fro, askew and slow
though I'm feeling
skew-whiff in the waddle
and iffy sickly not well
I think I'll stay
riding the bare-back bronco
to whittle the whiles away
letting the be, what's may
till the break of day
IT MAKES NO SENSE
It makes no sense,
For some to complain, oppose and voice anew,
When a situation remerges
And goes from bad to worse and all skew-whiff,
And you never know,
Where the buck will stop
Or reverse off course,
Or do we stop!
Re-evaluate,
Assess our worth and ability
To handle best - worst-case scenario,
And offer up
The tried,
The tested,
And what’s worked before,
In going with restoring powers of mind
That life will go on regardless;
Of the tragedy of season.
So it makes no sense to me
For some to vocalize anew, oppose, complain;
Then again I suppose
It’s their prerogative of choice.
Francis Cooper – Mac © 16-Jul-20
The jug spilt water, wetting the table
Now bent, twisted, buckled and warped skew-whiff
By flaw to twist coiled within the fibers
when timber dried, planed, sanded and dressed smooth.
How cruel for the carpenter who toiled
to make the table top lined-up and square
For the owner of the table so proud.
For the child who toppled the jug over.
Fatal flaw hidden within the fibers
coiled, primed and wound, waiting to be unleashed
By an event bound to happen one day.
For nothing here is insusceptible,
in a world ruled by entropy’s decay,
where order is a high energy state
and disorder is equilibrium.
---------------
23 June 2017
Are You Skew-Whiff?
Are you feeling rather skew-whiff?
Awkwardly placed and standing?
upside-down
back to front
inside out
topsy - turvy
Are your senses damp and unresponsive,
Beckoning confusion and despair?
Does your heart pound even when there’s nothing exciting there?
Forlorn, sorrowful, despondent,
You patronise your grief,
Focus on your problem,
To attain some relief;
You keep flitting to your pleasures,
Lack, for contemplation, a quiet place,
Force your troubles into the backroom,
You’re not to dignify your face.
Tomorrow is for thinking,
Will exist to accommodate,
The glumness and the wretchedness,
That seems to obliqueness and gloom proliferate.
Rhoda Monihan
13th October 2015
For the contest Creative Layouts, sponsor Broken Wings