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News about Angeline

UnderYourSpell

UnderYourSpell

Gerund Whore
Joined
May 20, 2007
Posts
15,794
You may have wondered why Angeline is missing, well it's because she has been in hospital but now is in rehab for physical and pulmonary therapy. It looks like a lovely place way up in the mountains and she has a fabulous view from her window!
I'm sure you will join me in wishing her well and a speedy recovery :heart::rose:
 
Angeline is never far from my thoughts. If anyone deserves peace and happiness, surely it is she.
 
Thank you dear poets. I just played dodge ball (well a modified form of it) in physical therapy and I am proud to say that against all odds I can still kick. Just not as well as the teeny little old lady I was matched against. Talk about being humbled. Hey we all gotta start somewhere!

And thank you Jib for the jazz, always welcome. :rose:

Love you all. I'm working on my game. ♥️♥️♥️
 
Angeline, I apologize for my late message but it is grat to know your recovery is going well. There is always that little old tron lady who can whomp you at kickball but I'm sure you could best her at haiku.
 
Write a poem that includes the phrase "that's what jazz means to me".


back when words were nothing
but tools to pry the undergarments
from a woman that didn’t understand
poetry..... scratch that
I think women have poetry scribed
into their bones
and coursing through their veins
as if tundras
star filled skies
and grass spun daydreams
are in their DNA

Back when I didn’t understand
poetry
back when words were harsh
a dialect of cunt and fuck
and the rhyme
oh the incessant repeat
of monotone beats
and metre was a measure

she poured effort
and encouragement into a driftless
rhymer of sad prose
pump and dump erotica
and shitty grammar

as if there were
cordant notes of beauty
amid the discord
as if between the untuned strings
and fumbling fingers
that beneath it all
was a music
a voice
that deserved to be heard

and so she with magic
in her words
guided a lost boy
into art
hack and slash words
into a semblance of place
time
order

into words that spoke

yeah
She is something
with the bluesy tunes
the scent of old books
and knowledge that flowed
that’s what Jazz means to me

And so I say thank you
in my own clumsy way
more coherent than I used to be
 
Be well and get better, Ms. Poet Chick. Rather than link another (underwhelming or obvious, since you know jazz) track, let me post this, which is kind of jazzy (or something) in its own way.

In any case, heal. :rose::rose:
 
Tzara said:
Be well and get better, Ms. Poet Chick. Rather than link another (underwhelming or obvious, since you know jazz) track, let me post this, which is kind of jazzy (or something) in its own way.

In any case, heal. :rose::rose:
Click to expand...


Indeed, what Tzara and everyone else has said - be well, Angeline!
 
get well soooon Angie!!!---from far off Mumbai : wish you piping hot samosas and dosas during/after rehab!!!----ash
 
Helloooooooo Poets. :heart::kiss::heart:

I am home. I was discharged today because according to my insurers I am cured. Everything but my mind is feeling weak and slow, but I have exercises and stuff to do to strengthen the old lungs so I'll be working on that. I'm creeping around like a baby and blowing bubbles (really) as one exercise. I feel kinda like this

Thank you all for the well wishes. I hope you'll all stick around and write something. Some of you fine poets have been away so long and I know your poeting is missed. I think we should all write something about our respective dads as our (USA) Fathers Day is this weekend. I shall start a mini-challenge thread. Please write. :rose::rose::rose:





D'maas some of those old ladies kick a mean dodge ball!
 
a poem:

Bubbles For Rehab

1. I hear the therapist

Ok, deep breath in - that's ok! Cough it up!
Ok, this time slowly so that your airway
has a chance to open without exciting your cillia
way down deep in those bronchioles
(his voice got deeper as he said those last syllables)

2. I hear my crepitus

The wheeze and rattle reassures in some absurd view
flip of the anxiety I feel when I don't have enough
air, when I gulp and try to drink my oxygen as if I
am in the desert and this is the last oasis on the road.

3. I hear the spirometer

Spinning as I try to squeeze out a blow strong
enough to lift that ping pong ball up to the blue
line. I just want to go home! And again!
They call it the "INSPIRE - ometer". Not likely.
I just keep getting discouraged and slowly
let the little bastard drop to the bottom of the tube.

4. I hear my bubbles

Breaking as every sip of water, milk, juice,
comes through a straw only after I have blown
little burbles up through it for 3 minutes.
Blow
Cough
Inhale
Wheeze
(repeat)
(repeat)
(repeat)
 
Last edited:
Ange: :heart: I am sorry you were in the hospital, that really blows (and quite literally now with PT)! Being in the health profession, I can't say illness is something I get used to, especially for those who I care about. :rose:
 
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