memories

All posts in the memories category

End of the Dream for d’Verse

Published April 7, 2018 by Nan Mykel

Can’t pick up rocks no more

’cause something’s under there

just a-waiting to suck your blood

and pull out all your hair.

 

Can’t trust nuttin’ any more

It’s all rotted through

The young’uns won’t never know

how wishes might come true.

 

 

Kinda Preachy?

Published April 3, 2018 by Nan Mykel

While continuing my discard trip through ages of hoarding the written word, I’m about to discard the following, but cheating and saving it here:

The majority of people are born with one head, two arms and two legs. They have two eyes, two ears, one nose and mouth.  But there across-the-board similarities appear to stop. (Of course they stopped with the first sentence in some who have had to struggle from birth with physical differences).

Inside, however, great differences can and do exist. Our nighttime dreams are unique to us, as are our combination of innate temperaments, our perceptions, intellectual potential, educational and family environments, and our genes. (Scientists have even identified a gene for “happiness.”)

It is natural to assume that most of us are as alike inside as outside. We begin to feel different soon after exposure to other children, however.  Temperamental differences are one example. With age, some children learn to hide their unique differences; differences which appear unique to themselves; differences which are viewed negatively by others.

Become aware of your feelings as you read the following: cross-eyed, epileptic, club-footed, hare-lipped, retarded, crippled, senile, pock-marked, abused, victim, bow-legged, leper, old nag, brain-damaged, psychotic, neurotic… I wonder if the feelings differ if you’re inside one of these categories or outside.  Probably not, because we soak up society’s perception of us. You think, therefore I am.

Eric Berne developed the concept of life scripting, in which people assume the scripts and characteristics that others expect from them, early in life. Some people start out physically and mentally healthy, but along the way are shamed into dis-ease.*

When we feel diminished, we are diminished. When we feel shame, we are shamed. The carpet of our life rolls out until the ragged end unless we can somehow intercept its path.

*Of course, our parents play a big role in this

 

 

ABODE OF MY DREAMS – A Poem

Published March 6, 2017 by Nan Mykel

ABODE OF MY DREAMS

The amphibian in me

climbed up the beach,                                                        

then turned around

and retraced her steps,

reluctant to abandon the

tears that provide the

ocean’s salt and the

underwater resting place

of dreams and memories.

Small conch shells provide

shelter for the likes of us

and their inhabitants

welcome well-fed housemates.

Some days warm currents,

colorful in their lacy ocean

finery, caress passersby with

armloads of sweet memories.

Since perfection cannot exist

without its opposite, the

idyllic setting also harbors

bedlam. Tsunamis dance on

the horizon, foreshadowing

disruption and chaos. Dreaded

also in both worlds is the

living nightmare which darts

in and out of murky shadows,

menacingly hovering hungrily,

waiting to strike; the barracuda.

Nan

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