Welcome to Poet’s Corner (& Artists too) ~ Issue #20
From Our Editor:
Our special guest for this issue, hails from the UK. Micky Cocker, has just had a book of poems published: Crying to be free from fibro and M.E. (Myalgic Encephalopathy).
I had the pleasure of reading this wonderful book, and here is my personal review:
I found Micky’s book of poetry to be poignant in the words expressed, and enduring with honesty as to what the author goes through on a daily basis.
Micky is not only a wonderful poet; she has a big heart for others and I am honored to call her my friend. She exposes her emotions in ways that will help many others out there living with chronic diseases.
I recommend this book to anyone, who is dealing with a chronic illness.
Congratulations to Micky on a job well done.
Micky was kind enough to share a couple of her poems with us.
As it is Juvenile Arthritis Awareness Month in the United States, we will also be featuring a two-part poem, condensed from a book series, currently in process.
I hope you enjoy what we have in store for you.
Happy JA Awareness Month to all of the kids, teenagers, and their families, who are on this very special journey.
In this Issue:
We The Disabled (1st selection of poetry by Micky Cocker)
When I Was Two Hundred and Fifty-Three (Part 1 of poetry by Maria Ordish)
This disease (2nd selection of poetry by Micky Cocker)
Trevor’s Barks of Gold (Message and photograph by Brenda Kleinsasser)
Editor’s Note: Micky Cocker
As mentioned in my editor’s note, our special guest will be featuring 2 of her poems. Before I share Micky’s bio, I would like to share links for where you can go and purchase her book. It is available both on Kindle and paperback: Crying to be free from fibro and M.E.
Micky also hosts a wonderful page on Facebook, where you are welcome to share your poetry as well. It called, chronic illness poems and rhymes by micky.
Micky Cocker, in her own words:
My names micky I’m 42 happily married to a very supportive man.
Have 6 children between us, 3 grandchildren and twin granddaughters due in sept.
I have a number of illnesses including fowlers syndrome (rare bladder disorder) fibromyalgia, M.E, C.F.S and arthritis. And I write chronic illness poems to help others.
Here is Micky’s, first poetry selection:
We The Disabled
By micky cocker
There’s a bunch of people just like me
I now find them real easy to see
But they lay low like lepers and hide
In fact they should stand united with pride
We may all not be in a wheelchair
Thats discrimination and not fair
Some of us don’t shout it out loud
Well why not? Shout it and be proud!!
There are sooo many disabilities
Lupus, fibromyalgia, CFS and even M.E
What ? You never heard of any of these
Well its because they are an invisible disease
So many sufferers are not ever seen
If they’re not in a wheelchair then you aint going to believe
Well wash your mouth out and open your ears
These people lives life with pain and tears
Told we are fakes and doin it for the dough
Well trust me there’s more on the dole
Just cos you can’t see what goes on inside
It doesn’t mean that we have anything to hide
We the disabled are not gonna hide
We are gonna stand together with pride
We the disabled are gonna shout out loud
And united together we are gonna stand proud
For our illnesses may be invisible thats true
But that doesn’t mean we should be too
So all the people all worldwide
Watch as we disabled stand united with pride
Editor’s Note: Maria Ordish
Maria Ordish, in her own words:
I have had RA for 10 years now (I’m 41). I used to have a full time job, but then between the pain and the doctor visits…well, people see you as a weak employee. So then I took up my old passion…writing and oil painting. Not long after, I decided to go off meds to have a baby. I stopped painting and writing when I got pregnant with my three year old. The RA attacked my tendons in addition to all my joints. So, I have been battling life with unmanageable pain and a toddler! Which has its ups and downs, as you can well imagine.
Two years ago I began writing a story for my son. It was truly a delight to be creative again and explore a new genre. Since then it has morphed into a series, which I have been sending out to agents for publishing. I know it takes a long time, and while I have had rejections, they have all said my writing was terrific and I should keep sending it out.
Writing seems to be the only thing I can really do anymore for myself. It’s great to be a stay at home mom, but I am also in need of a career.
Here is Part 1 of Maria’s poem.
When I Was Two Hundred and Fifty-Three
By Maria Ordish
When I was Two Hundred and Fifty Three,
I skipped two bees across the sea.
Riding waves from shore to shore,
Until I was Two Hundred and Fifty-Four.
When I was Two Hundred and Fifty Four,
I dropped through a hole in the ocean floor.
For six months or so, or maybe far more…
I explored my new world …Every nook, crook and door.
There were wondrous oddities and delights to behold…
Like black and blue chickens with purple moon spots,
Blowing brass horns through their beaks, tied in knots!
And bright orange trees with Super-Sized feet,
Sporting a game of hide-and-go-seek!
(Now don’t you dare peek, playing hide-and-go-seek!)
In the Korner Kaf-A, where I eat night and day,
The Birdieland Jazz Band zoot-toots away…
While saucy young sea urchins cut up a rug,
Jimming and jamming the Jitterbug’s-Hug.
Across the square and down the block,
There sits on a bench, a troubled town clock.
The villagers say, he’s lost his tick-tock.
That’s what I said!
No tick and no tock!
No tock and no tick…..No tickety-mickety-mockety-mick!
I said to the clock, “I so wish I knew,
What I could do, to spruce-up your mood!
I say, how about a nice crunchy lunch?
Or a brick-a-brack sandwich….maybe something for brunch?”
The clock shook his head, so I got up to go…
I had only to walk four steps or so…
When a sea monkey grabbed me and pushed me inside
Of a Cakery Bakery, fit for a bride.
BANANAFRED BREAD was the sweet of the day!!!
I bought the whole lot. (I got carried away!)
Then ran back to the clock,
Who ate it all up,
Spitting and sputtering …..“Tick-tock! Tick-tock!”
The clock danced a jig, then said with a grin,
“This is just how my every day shall begin!”
I smiled and merrily got on my way…
There was much to explore in the span of a day!
So many strange sights and delightful delights!
I started off slowly by browsing…carousing…
While walking and talking and gawking and stalking…
Through scores and scores of stores and stores…
Selling posh potions on all of their floors!
They’d hover and bob on ribbons of bubbles,
Guaranteed to erase all of your troubles!
Up a hill down, and down a hill up,
I came to a forest of Seaweed-Seed Cups.
And here I did spy, with my little eye…
The oddest of odd of all creatures gone by…
“Water-Ups” racing from sand to the sky!
Tripping and falling, but not knowing why…
I said to a Water-Up, “Perhaps you should know,
In the land I come from, the water does flow,
From high atop a spot in the sky…
And down to the ground, in a blink of an eye!”
“But what would be the sense in that?”
Asked a green spikey hedgehog with a shell for a hat.
“You can talk?!” I exclaimed.
“But of course, so can you….
Although, I’m unsure about what we should do,
Or how we should do it….
Or what must be done…..Concerning the Water-Ups sensible fun?!”
“I have an idea for a fun game to play…”
“A game, did you say?
I cannot imagine…
The Water-Ups playing in an organized fashion!”
Said the green spikey hedgehog with a shell for a hat.
(Regardless, I went and I did…just…that!)
One by one, I rounded them up,
Those Water-Ups up,
And two Seaweed-Seed Cups.
I gave them a pole to hold between them, you see,
And explained the game’s rules…easy as one, two and three!
“Limbo’s the game!” And what do you know?
They picked it right up and gave it a go…..
The Seaweed-Seed Cups held the poles without fail,
As the Water-Ups slinkered and slankered that rail.
Lower and lower, we watched the bar fall,
Until the last notch in the stick came to call
The end of the game with a yell of “LIMBO!”
…And over and over…one Water-Up at a time…
Crashed to the ground…
With a splish-sploshity sound!
I hadn’t quite realized…
No I hadn’t quite thought…
Of what would now happen….of how we’d be caught
Sploshing and splashing and smashing and crashing…
In a monsoon…of a typhoon lagoon!!!!
Higher and higher the level did rise,
Causing the village a shock and surprise!
The stores and the houses….of all shapes and sizes…
The Korner Kaf-A…
The Cakery Bakery…
The tick-tockety mickety mockety clock…
Sea monkeys floating on Bananafred Bread…
Blue and black chickens with purple moon spots…
Bright orange trees with Super-Size feet…
And sea urchins….lost…without their jazz-beat!
All of them floating and bobbing along freely,
When along came a wave and sank them all….nearly!
“Help us! Oh help us!” they cried out in vain.
But all I could do was weep from the shame…
And swim to some rubble….cling for dear life…
Wondering how I had caused so much strife.
Be sure and come back next month, for the conclusion of Maria’s poem.
Editor’s Note: Micky Cocker
Our special guest is back with another poetry selection. But first, Micky has something light to share with you:
Fun fact :- many years ago as a waitress/barmaid for my mums agency business I met quite a lot of famous people and sports personalities.
Here is Micky’s 2nd poetry selection:
Get it out of me this animal, this vile beast
On my bones, flesh and brains it feasts
Torturing me with its many needs
No matter how I cry, scream, beg or plead
Surely you can help find a release
From this vile thing, this evil disease
It’s tearing at my muscles and bones
Not a damn minute will it leave me alone
It’s clawing at my poor demented brain
Making me forget things and spelling again
Once an intelligent and bright scholar
Now I should be held by a leash and collar
It’s knawing on every muscle deep inside
Please help, there’s nowhere I can hide
My speech it’s now done a bunk
I forget my words and slur as though I’m drunk
My legs so painful , I stumble and fall
So many symptoms why must I have them all
My arms, hands, elbow they ache
Then I drop things and they will break
Fingers swell, I can’t wash my own hair
Who ever said that this illness is fair
Why can’t they find a cure for us all
or at least help the symptoms become small
It’s inside me now, laughing at me
Ha ha, as if you are going to sleep
It doesn’t care that I have had a long day
It will just stay and taunt me anyway
My eyes are so heavy, my hands throb like hell
I’m laid in bed but still my ankles will swell
I just need maybe a few hours reprieve
Please, please why can’t it just leave
But each day it burrows further in
Into my brain, muscles, bones and my skin
Soon I will no longer talk text or type
If I’m lucky I might mumble through Skype
Because this disease that ravages me, it will not give up or give in
Not until it destroys me from deep within !!
I want to thank Micky, for sharing her talents with us and being our special guest for this issue.
Brenda on Brenda:
We are back with a very special edition of Trevor’s Barks of Gold. Trevor is not only my storyteller for my blog, but he is also the official mascot, for “Christine’s Kids.” He has a special message to share with all the kids, teens, and their families, as we celebrate JA Awareness Month in the United States.