Guilt

After errands through the
milling throng around our
shopping plaza I need lunch
to re energise myself. The
nurse and diabetes classes
give strict instructions for
healthy diabetics’ food.

Last time here I ate a little
seafood cocktail with a
healthy wholemeal sandwich.

Today I crave a Macdonald’s
burger with double meat patties
and fries to bolster up my tea
with milk and equal.
I could walk down the road
to the healthy sandwich bar
but Macdonalds is right here.

The health professional relatives
frown on Macdonalds – so very
unnutritional. The haute cuisine
connoisseur relatives say
Macdonalds is just not food.

But I enjoy a Big Mac and fries
occasionally as a change from
my favourite plaza cafe’s
toasted ham and cheese sammies.

I give in to myself, eat burger
and fries with milky tea

and am most relieved several
weeks later when my glucose
count has still gone down.


Previously posted June 2017.

Chicken Nuggets, Big Macs, Fries, Kumara

A diet decreed by health
professionals has been deemed
essential for my functional
quality of life. Approved
healthy foods are urged on
me at family gatherings.

I am trying to comply but
I refuse to interact with the
favourite super food of
familial health professionals
…… kumara* No, I can not
eat it. they are puzzled.

I deeply miss chicken nuggets
Big Macs and fries. I did not
eat them often but the choice
was always mine !

“No nutritional value !” exclaim
the health professionals, surprised.

No indeed ! Instead they have
delicious savoury flavour,
juicy burger patty, hot crisp
crustiness of fries, all so sensual
to the taste buds, such glorious
lingering taste and texture.

We have agreed to differ on
this matter of food sensuality.

Kumara is off my menu.

*Kumara – New Zealand sweet potato.


Previously posted June 2017.

Golden Moons

Thin wavy red lines wander
across a large golden moon
ambling away from a blue
white nucleus at one side
of that luminous sphere.

Around it, behind it, the
pitch black of space highlights
this red lined golden orb.

Three more moons appear on
the computer screen as the
optometrist brings up his
other photos of my eyes,
focused on the centre of
each eye, then from the sides.

For now there are no tiny
tears in the veins of my eyes,
from the glucose gravel in
my bloodstream, flowing through
every part of me, even my eyes.


Previously posted June 2017.

Ripple Effect

One November a violent powerful
earthquake rocked our shaky
isles in the middle of the night.
Usually I sleep through them
but my sliding doors banged
so long that at last I woke up.

The sliding door into my kitchen
was knocked off its little guide
rail, the repairman said the carpet
underneath was loose, The carpet
man said the carpet’s anchoring
square edging was wet and all
puffed up. With water coming
under the wall from the shower
I would have to call the plumber.

The plumber said the shower box
would need to be dismantled
by the builder so the shower
could be repaired. The n the
builder would re line the
shower box. No more leaks.

And so it finally ended, this
saga from the quake. My kitchen
door and living room carpet
were functioning, well repaired.
the builder tore out the shower
box lining, the plumber repaired
the shower tray and mixer, the
builder relined the shower box.

All with related large bills.

After six months that earthquake
was fixed …… for the time being.


Previously posted June 2017.

Fogbound

To fly from her provincial
home city to the folk music
holiday weekend in the country

She chose the very cheap air fares
of the budget airline so she
had to fly to the vast mega city
then out again. This lengthy
trip gave the cheapest fares.

A thick dark fog monster
choked the mega city’s airport
with clogging swirling vapour.

The budget air line with its budget
skeleton staff slogged to rebook
its passengers around the country
on its budget skeleton air fleet.

She arrived one day late for
her folk music holiday weekend.


Previously posted June 2017.

Goggle Box

Serious brains tell me
television is frothy lightweight
air brained frivolous. they stare
at me blankly as I enthuse
about documentaries, drama,
current affairs programmes,
reality and games shows, and
in between funny moments.

During the day I cook meals,
garden, clean house, read
books, newspapers, magazines.
I even write posts for a blog.

Yet I remain unweighted by
serious subscription magazines.
Come night time I choose to
relax, have a good laugh, watch
ancient history documentaries,
enjoy a different world.


Previously posted June 2017.

House Cleaning

Sitting on my couch leafing
through my book of jotted
words, scribbled ideas, thinking
thoughts for my next poem
for my blog, pondering one
then another. Nothing strikes
a chord, starts me writing.

Ceiling corners’ cobwebs taunt
me, wisps of carpet fluff float
up, point at me. A layer of dust
covers sideboard, living room
surfaces, dulls then greyly.
The kitchen floor needs sweeping,
wet mopping. All sights that
annoy me as I sit. The tiles
around the bathroom vanity, the
large bathroom mirror all need
smudges, soapy smears wiped off.

So many distractions from writing.

When I sweep floors, work
the vacuum cleaner, ply wet
mop and bucket, clean bathroom
tiles and mirror, move dusters
over living room and bedroom …

… ideas flow, ready to write,
sharp words, keen phrases come
to mind. So I jot them down,
continue cleaning write down
more …… Most confusing !


Previously posted June 2017.

Knots And Kinks

Working for a living my spine
twisted into kinks, my muscles
crunched bones out of place.
…… Pain ! …… Immobility !

On the massage table the
therapeutic masseuse fully trained
in human anatomy would unknot
the knots, unkink the kinks with
thumbs, knuckles, heel of hand
all precisely and agonisingly
placed ……. Aaaaaaarghh !

I would carefully focus on
relaxing to allow this additional
pain to release the knots
and kinks, release me to move.

Next day I would feel tender
through neck, arms, shoulders,
back, thighs, calves even after
hot showers and baths.
Soon I would move easily
… until I eventually seized
up in new knots, new kinks.

After retirement I expected
to move freely, continuously
without further painful massage.

Not so. Age has replaced
workday stresses, knots still
return to grip my back.
Those expert hands must
still work their painful magic.

Previously posted June 2017.

Little Gardens

Alongside our little row of flats
runs our smooth concrete driveway
widely absorbing sunny heat, opening
us up to the blue sky, leading along
the neighbours’ fence, round to our
carports, on a to a narrow path
passing our back doors, our clotheslines.

Under each flat’s front windows sits
a little garden with multi sized
shaped and coloured shrubs softening
doors, windows brick walls, concrete.

River stones and pebble mulch lie
under the plants in the other gardens
keeping them tidy for tenant
without tools or gardening skills.

My garden’s soil is open to the
sky, breathing freely amidst
brick, stone and concrete.

I interact with this soil feeding
it compost as it drinks in air and rain.
In return the soil shares its bounty
with all comers, windblown seeds as
well as my chosen plants and flowers.

Removing these uninvited scrambling
sprawling invaders I stand my ground
………………… More writing time goes by.



Previously posted June 2017.