A cough walks down the block
A sneeze lands on my window pane
Laughter rises up to the bird’s nest where
Cooing joins in
Coo ha coo ha coo ha
Ah choo!

Breaking up the party
Is the sound of retching deep throated gagging
Rude crude dude over the bush
Under the tree with the bird’s nest
Next to my window pane
All on the block where I live
Trying to write.

Copyright 2009 A Different Light

Wheezy, a short story about the homeless is up

He called it a weird arm thing
It’s been called
Quadriplegia or
Paralysis or
Spasms

But this is a new one on me.

I look down at my curled hands
After a
Long
Hard
Day
In a world set up for
arms that move and
hands that hold and
fingers that grasp – straight fingers.

With that weird arm thing
Can we touch you he asks
No I say
Don’t.

Copyright 2009 A Different Light

-a poem dedicated to all those heroes and heroines who sally forth fearlessly

I.

In which our heroine is introduced

Our heroine wanders forth on her Wheeled Steed
Clasping only a clay tablet cracked after battle
On which to record her journeys
As she encounters creatures of the dark and light
On a mission to procure Vitamins,
An elixir designed to strengthen and preserve Health
Pills that are hidden in Round Containers
Located deep within the aisles
Of large vaulted places
Where fellow travelers wander aimlessly
Nay, passing by the elixir
Whilst our heroine,
Single Minded of Purpose
Strays neither left nor right
To the Bagged Crunchy Food or Dark Liquid called Cola
But first she must overcome the Obstacles
Both Physical and Otherwise
That block her way
As she ventures forth in her wheeled steed.

II

In which the heroine encounters the dreaded SUV monsters

Outside the Vaulted Building
Lies a criss cross of white lines on black steaming tar
On which the dreaded SUV monsters sit idly
Waiting, biding their time, their front grills cool and quiet
Whilst others of their kind roam, their metal grills
Higher than the heroine’s wheeled steed.
Their encounters are swift and deadly
As she approaches the front of the Vaulted Building
Some back into her, casting off red lights
As they emit terrible honking noises
And various types of cursing
Aimed at the heroine who dashes left and right
Only to arrive at the road surrounding the building
Where SUV’s travel with a speed so terrible
It makes her wheeled steed shake.
Yet she holds her ground, aiming to cross
No matter that her life is in mortal danger
Knowing that upon the appearance of a smaller
Black and white rolling apparition that has
A red dome on top the SUV’s stop all movement
Allowing her to cross.

III

In which our heroine is rendered Invisible by those of the High Countenance

Our heroine must first enter the Vaulted Building
Sometimes there is a Button one may push that magically opens the doors
Or she can rush in behind another who has set the doors ajar
Otherwise she must find a way to ram the entrance open
A piece of wood, nay, any object works with the weight of her wheeled steed behind it.
Once inside, surrounded by rows of Objects meant to distract her from the elixir
She follows a well studied path toward the Vitamins
Avoiding those who wander from Object to Object,
Stopping in front of her only to stare blankly
Their journeys sadly gone astray
But this is of no concern to our heroine who sallies forth
Toward the aisle of the Elixir and seizes the rounded container
Hiding it as she goes to barter
With those of the High Countenance
Who stand behind Counters so High and Frightening
That one may not glance upon their visage
Nay, they stand in a world apart, Unseeing and Unfeeling
As our heroine takes her place in a line of those purchasing other Objects.
Predictably, one of the High Countenance speaks to the man behind her in line
Intoning “May I help you?”
Our heroine bravely utters “I am next”, fearless and forthright
Unabashed by the casting of the Invisibility Spell.
“I did not see you,” is the expected and dreaded response
And thus the bartering commences.

IV

In which our heroine recounts her Deeds and Battles after safely returning Home

Do not imagine that our heroine’s battles are over
As she must once again escape the dreaded SUV’s outside the Vaulted Building
And endure their squealing sounds as they stop, left and right,
Their heated grills rising above her head
Their curses loud and frequent
These are the memories of battle that must be recorded on the clay tablet
Our heroine has now strapped to the back of her wheeled steed.
Once home, she finds it is dark
Her fellows greet her,
Offering her solace and companionship
By the light of an Object called Ever-Ready
Our heroine casts shadows on the walls to show the SUV’s dreaded attacks
From which she escaped unscathed
Showing her companions her journey through the Vaulted Building
And her safe passage home.
It is all good, they intone in one voice,
Whereupon our heroine passes around the elixir, the Vitamins
Before they all climb, crawl or are lifted into their bedding
The last one keeping watch and immortalizing our heroine’s tales
On the cracked clay tablet,
A Journey that Must be Told, passed down
Generation after generation
In defiance of the SUV’s and those of the High Countenance
And all others who would keep our heroine on her wheeled steed from her purpose-
To find Life’s elixir and bring it back to those in need.

Sleep well, our heroine, until you journey forth yet again!

Copyright 2009 A Different Light

The As Seen On TV commercials don’t show devices that will help me open a can or that hard plastic casing around store items. I call anyway. “I have a disability and I need a way to hold the device between my elbows or perhaps position it at my belly button with a strap, of course, so the sharp edge could be carefully guided,” I say to the woman on the phone who has a nasal voice. “We don’t offer that,” she says. I’m disappointed because the belly button idea would allow me to make the item height accessible which is a rare thing. I try to picture if a sledge hammer would work, but very loud music is distracting me because she put me on hold while she helps someone who she says is ready to buy. I am ready to buy a sledge hammer, I think. I’m sure the As Seen on TV people must have something to help me open cans and the hard plastic casing on most store items, including the batteries I need to run the can opener I already bought from them that I can’t use, partly because I can’t get the batteries out of the hard plastic casing. When I hear the woman’s familiar nasal voice back on the line again, I’m relieved. There is hope. I ask about the sledge hammer. She hangs up. I guess they are out of stock.

Copyright 2009 A Different Light

It is in the waiting that his heart dies
not the paralysis ,
not the itch he can’t reach,
not the hunger he can’t feed,
not the dirt he can’t remove
It is the arrogance of the staff,
who keep him waiting
while they play cards
their laughter sounding down the hall
then stand before him, demanding gratitude
that kills his spirit.
At times the ward is silent as he waits
to be fed,
to be washed,
to be turned,
to be scratched
He plays with numbers in his head
Recalling the day he won the math award
When his teacher gave him a pin with the symbol Pi
he wore it all day
until his father said only girls wore pins
so he buried Pi under his socks.
When he was put into the nursing home,
he asked his mother to bring Pi to him
and pin it on the corkboard at the bottom of his bed
so he could always see Pi, the irrational number
the transcendental number
never ending, never repeating

Knowing that no matter how long the wait was
it could have been longer.
Knowing the wait will never be the same.
Perspective, he learned, was the answer to all of life’s problems.

Copyright 2009 A Different Light

Cripple is fine as a word
When used crip to crip
But not as a taunt
Or a slam
Then cripple just ripples
Hate and disdain
Of me – as I am.

Copyright 2009 A Different Light

Your lovely hair
Curled around my fingers
Dark, wispy, wet
From my tears

It is all I recognize of you

Hair doesn’t grow on the dead
The skin retracts with time
As life subsides

Suddenly – yet not-

Death owns your body
Though not your soul
I carry that inside

As I release
Your lovely hair

Copyright 2009 A Different Light

Sally with a blue robe, silver hair, bright eyes
Frank with suspenders falling down the sleeves of a red shirt, bald, smiling
They meet in the dayroom of the nursing home
Hold hands
Tell stories of the world out there
The people who might visit, those free to comeandgo leaveorstay

They play chess
On a wooden board
Use two bottle caps, one clear, one blue
For the king and queen

One day Sally asks why the queen is always blue
Frank shrugs, making his suspenders fall further down and says
The king can be blue if you want
So they switch the bottle caps
Only to change them back
When she can’t remember
Who is blue

The staff walks by, laughing at the couple’s laughter
When I get that old, I won’t be thinking of sex , an aide says
You’ll always be thinking of sex , the housekeeper says
The aide brings their meds into the dayroom
Knocking into the board just as Frank gets checkmate
The pieces fly to their feet, the bottle caps spinning
No longer a king and queen on the floor.

No matter, Frank says after the aide leaves
We can play again.
Slowly he picks up each piece with arthritic fingers
Places pawns, bishops, and rooks on squares as Sally stares out the window
I saw a white car, she says, maybe that’s my daughter
He doesn’t answer. Sally’s daughter has never visited.
Your move, he says.
Is the queen blue? She asks
The queen is always blue, he says
Clasping her hand and kissing her forehead.

Copyright 2009 A Different Light

Some people use words like
Confined to a wheelchair
And mean them.
When they hear
Dis-abled, they dis-invite

Invent excuses
Don’t you know there are steps
That’s what dis-inviting is.

I’ve crawled up and down steps
Excuses (there is no excuse)
Teach me how to fly above them

Copyright 2009 A Different Light