My Chapbook

Of poetry and art related to Migraines, Seizures, & my whole crab trap of symptoms.

If interested, message me & I’ll give you my address. Only accepting cash or checks at this time. Migraines, y’know. They rip the cords out of normal.

All works copyrighted
All works copyrighted

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Alone, Isolated…

I feel so alone, too isolated. These few family members here are too different than me. None read besides my old dad. ALL voted differently than me – I’m not getting into politics. None are creative. Most are cops, so different minded. There are none of my friends living local. My other brother is planning on taking his dog, which really has become mine, but there is no way I can stop this. The dog, Rocky, is one of the few things keeping me sane & afloat. I took a walk today, a short one, & was exhausted from it. I exercise every day, but it doesn’t really help besides being a routine. How does one live w/o physically social interaction? Even when I have pal visits from elsewhere, I can only do things for a day. The 2nd day is always exhaustion & sleeping. Then I can do something for dinner.

M25795-1 002
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Lost in Gray Matter

Earlier, when calling my ear doctor, I had to give my phone number for a call back due to no one answering. I couldn’t remember the present landline I’m at, stuck back in Louisiana, with that phone number that I had for almost 2 decades. I couldn’t imagine any other set of numbers. Oddly, this is the same phone number my folks have had since halfway through my 8th grade, so far longer. Not surprising, I had to call them back once I found this number. How bizarre is that? This time warp again…

Artist Sarah Anne Johnson’s new performance piece Hospital Hallway 12

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Time machine creativity

Often, when writing swiftly and vividly in prose, I detach from reality, and am back at my desk in Pigeon Roost Creek (Southern Louisiana, across the lake from New Orleans). Then I realize the difference and whirl back to here, along the Oregon coast, becoming temporarily dazed, briefly nauseated, while remaining dizzy for several seconds. To be honest, this happens most times I write. And sometimes when I work on poetry or on a play. I am living in a time machine.

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Down to the reeds

The whistling comes smoothly across the plateau, finding us barefoot, finding us under a window that won’t quite close, allowing the rice & doubts to sneak in & have their ways with our brain cells. Twirling and whirling, churning and flapping, giving us nosebleeds as we roll down the grassy steeps, down to the garden around the river. Down to an orchards of ripe Jonagold apples. Stopping in the reeds, bring wrapped up in them, we want to be a frogs, want to be the woodpecker, looking north to Idaho as we unweave the reeds from our bodies.

Looking up to the spreading of our fingers held high above us, hiding the sun from our burning eyes, we are happy to know we have rolled here.

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Bad gazes

And the world has become fire. The fire is hungry, eating the cities, feeding on my fragile clarity until it has holes and becomes Swiss Cheese. Give me mercy as the world is on fire, as my brain is malfunctioning in pools of acid, as reality is disappearing in molten lava.

I am not able, although willing. I am incapable, but desiring. Put on the tight, red dress and go out into traffic. Out there at rush hour, when there is no way I cannot not be run over. Red is for blood. A burgundy hued dress. A dress predicting a failure of biology.

Alone, the fire feeds, I must accept. There is nothing except misery.

Suffering unbuttons my dress while I lie in the street – weeping.

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Record of my recent Attack: “Rising Blurry”

July 25: under horrible assault…

eyes go blurry after i focus them then rise

i can’t get them to stop either.

it is a “rising blurry”
eyes are terribly pained
started about 45 minutes ago…
help me know…
July 26:07.25.20 Rising Blurry Jpeg
More crud. No rising, lifting sight symptom BUT utter blurry & off balance. The worst of the blurriness lasted about an hour. Now I’m still off balance & my ears remain static sounding, eyes burning. When I got up maybe an hour earlier to use the toilet, this was NOT happening. Ugh.
I started writing & that gave/gives me footing enough. Am being careful. Have different puddles I step into & am more off balanced in those, then I step out & it’s better, thus there is something persisting.
So off balanced, so confused, head won’t cease squishing… all is scary.
July27:
So far, only one short attack but am really out of it & hurting. Seizure?? I don’t know nuthin’
July 28:
People were encouraging me, so DID called my Neuro yester & she’s out ’til NEXT Monday. & there’s NO backup. Oh, well…
July 30:
Is there anything else than drowning in a lake of acid?
Symptoms rolling me down an alley of misplaced invention…

 

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I feel as if I am the planet Mercury & am crashing into the sun…

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Un-Staying…

07.05.02 Un-Staying Jpeg

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Things to Think about

Where are you?
What are you doing for a crust?
Who do you love?
How is your health?
How’s the COVID-19 in your realm?
How are the Protests?
Can you work from home?
Do you go outside if that is the case?
I am training mice to build
a rocket for us to get out of
this chaos & zoom into the
heart of the sun. Maybe
our star has an answer.
Instead, maybe I should put
on a smiley face mask
to confront our times…
maybe.
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