Welcome to Spring!
Pandemic Series 11 - April, 2021
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Mission: To provide poetical and thoughtful comments on life
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Demographics: No states or countries were added this month. If your resident area is not listed, please let me know.
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This Page
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Hello Spring |
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Opening Comments from Bob
This Issue: Pictorially we welcome the arrival of Spring. The narrative portion is a very personal one. The poems and vignette focus on an issue I have been dealing with for over fifteen years. You will understand as you read further.
Subscriber Residences: PLEASE let me know if your state, providence, or country is not listed in the demographic section at the end. There currently are subscribers in 27 states, 3 provinces, and 13 countries. See complete list near at the newsletter.
Next Month: The next issue comes out on May 30, 2021.
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PLEASE! Supporting the efforts of the Poetical Journal is greatly appreciated! Any amount of donation is appreciated.
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.Spring and family picnics go well toghether |
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A few days later - Parley's Pass, a parking lot. Our son Craig said it was the worst driving conditions he has experienced in during his years in UT. |
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Enjoy a taste of Spring
Curiosity
An ocean of clouds
lie beneath.
What secrets
remain hidden
below this shroud?
Perhaps an affair
where passion blooms.
Or a couple
who have spent a lifetime
nourishing each other.
Many better
left unknown.
Comment: Pictured to the right inspired the poem. It was taken on my flight to Pittsburgh where I had major brain surgery on the last day of March. (Much more discussed in the Vignette Section.)
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Trepidation
Wipe, wipe, wipe
Sanitize, sanitize, sanitize
buckles, trays,
whatever one sees.
Travel has morphed.
Fear of moving
into the lion’s den
becomes your companion
Astounding how one
minuscule microbe
can bring the world
to a halt.
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Even though spring, the snow remains on the mountains and, as shown earlier, sometimes on the roads.
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Vignette: Trigeminal Neuralgia
This I hope is the last time I write on this topic. Suffering since 2006 with this condition, nicknamed the "suicide disease" I decided to take the risk, flew to Pittsburgh, and underwent a special brain surgery, cranial nerve decompression, which is the only known treatment that can provide a lasting cure. However, no guarantees. Over the years in my case, the flares lasted an average of 3 months, the longest 13 months.
What follows are some poems written during my recent flare which started two days before Christmas and ended on March 30 after the surgery. I had been on a total liquid diet. Even then, the pain was excruciating.
Trigeminal Neuralgia
With dread
the slight discomfort arrives,
wishing only it was imagination.
Perhaps this feared visitor
will stay a day and move on,
leaving me in peace.
Months have passed
and he remains,
making himself at home.
He is a constant companion
except for the few glorious moments
I am alone.
Drugs, acupuncture, and medications
will not dislodge
this searing fiend.
Though I have tried to befriend him,
we continue to clash–
no longer desiring his embrace.
I long for him to depart
never to see his face again.
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TN 2
Writing poetry
about pain
seems superfluous
for pain continues
despite the written word.
But what does one do
with pain so searing
that drives some to suicide?
The jabbing shocks
that bend one over
are said to be secondary to none.
On most days,
you attempt to embrace
the sensations
as the face turns red
from the invisible electrodes
held to the cheeks.
You relax and breathe
while the current travels
and branches outward–
some durations longer than others.
When it ceases,
you celebrate the departure
though aware the next visit
will soon arrive.
Then one blessed day
the heinous guest departs
for weeks or months.
You rejoice
but live in perpetual dread
of his inevitable return. |
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No Walk in the Park
My wife of fifty-two years
holds my hand
uncertainty on her face.
I too lie
in my specially designed gown
waiting for the dreamless sleep.
The surgery is no walk in the park.
Though the risks remain great
the rewards greater.
But isn’t all of life
from crossing the street
to visiting the grocery store.
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MRI Soliloquy
Every sound imaginable
pieces the ears.
Highs, lows, shrills, clangs,
and even a bit of table jar.
The earplugs struggle
to mute the sound.
For forty minutes
feeling alone
greets the depth of the soul.
The known world
ceases to exist.
The head encased
in an apparatus.
Do not move.
Am I allowed to swallow?
Thank God for Kacie
who comforts and assures.
She is gone
all too soon.
What does one do
in forty minutes of volunteered
thunderous isolation?
Writing a poem became
an objective
even though lack of quietness
disturbed the creative processes.
Finally, meditation
quieted the mind
as time passed
into blessed silence.
Conclusion: Though fatigued from the surgery along with flying across the country and back, I am doing much better. At least for now, I celebrate no pain. I am always fascinated the gifts life offers. However, there are some you never want to unwrap.
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Recommendation
Neurosurgeon: While highly unlikely, but if you suffer for trigeminal neuralgia a superb surgeon to consult further with is Dr. Raymond Sekula at the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center - Presbyterian.
Pittsburgh Taxi: I have traveled the world and discovered that knowing a reliable taxi driver in the city you are in can be invaluable. I used Tom's services three times. He has a fascinating personal history and is extremely knowledgeable regarding the city. He goes out of his way to assist. This was especially helpful following my hospital stay. Tom's contact phone: 724-309-7830. Tell him Bob sent you.
.........Please take a look at the gift page.
Quotable Quotes
"Springtime is at hand. When will you ever bloom, if not here and now?" - Angelus Silesius
"A man is known by the silence he keeps." - Oliver Herford
"If you miss the present moment, you miss your appointment with life. That is very serious." - Thich Nhat Hanh
"Our real journey in life is interior." - Thomas Merton
"Take time to celebrate the quiet miracles that seek no attention." - John O'Donohue
Bit of Humor
A bit of laughter is healthy for the soul
My three-year-old son, Jack, was as excited as he could be to visit his grandma and grandpa in Florida, especially since it meant taking his first trip on an airplane.
We'd just boarded and got buckled in when Jack looked around the plane and frowned. "What is it?" I asked, wondering if he was nervous.
He then asked me, a bit worried, "Are ALL these people going to Grandma's house too?"
Compliments of Joke a Day
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PJ Online
To read some of the back issues of the PJ, go to here.
The next issue will go out on Sunday, May 30, 2021.
Until next time - joy and peace,
Bob
Bob Casey
Poetical Journeys
P.O. Box 319
Midway, UT 84049
bob@poeticaljourneys.com
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