i thought, then thought better

gurgle, gurgle
i thought most people who know me would like this much better than
myspace, which i have little time to frill and less to frill with
gurgle, gurgle
or something like that

will i tell you, have i told you yet? i'm not comfortable. one day, when i have, well...
gurgle, gurgle
something more....

than these damned mosquito bites. i can't believe they actually made it into the house and onto the bottom of my feet, the single solitary place that is not covered in (gasp, gurgle, gurgle) poison. for the buggers. i also have poison ivy or blister bug bites--what? gurgle, gurgle--or something more....

one day never comes
someday always does
if i could only post multiple audio clips here i think that most people who know me would find this all much more like me.
gurgle, gurgle.
ornot.

inthe junenight

it's a full moon

humid and hot

and i love how you look

in a greying mohawk

no one has to be perfect

for what is the one

but a place in my heart

left slightly undone

it's a fine fickle moon

hiding you and your kind

in demonstrative tones

rising up, not unkind

the voices come calling

come hither, come him

for how can you leap

before you can swim

l. epperson 2007

universal love song

when i think i can't go on
i feel your arms around me
lifting me up, lifting me up
and when i think i'm going down
i feel your love surround me
lifting me up, lifting me up

and i've been looking for a reason
where no reason exists
i've been looking for a reason
where no reason exists
i've been looking for a reason

where no reason exists

copyright 2007

when the rains come

after two years of little rain, it begins. it rains and rains and rains. the flowers are beautiful, the creeks are full, and the trees spread their wings over us all. is it the prayers of everyone who knows my mother? radiation is over and she can eat. she regains weight, and she looks better than she has in at least the past month, possibly better than she has in the past year when she was dealing with back pain. we relax, seeing her blossom, but we do not stop the vigilant watch. cancer tricks you into thinking it has given up its quest to take, only to return with renewed ambition. the prayers continue, and we live under a sacred tree that is spreading over us, as the rains continue to bless.

i feel i've been prepared for this, though the experience pales in comparison. a few years ago my dog was diagnosed with melanoma. it grew large in her mouth before i noticed, it was removed, it was malignant. she did not look sick for another two years. then life dealt me a double blow -- a love left for reasons left unsaid and her cancer returned. i found it early, had the tumor removed again. within a month, it was back, it was agressive, it had invaded the bones in her jaw. the last month of her life i spent with her, at home. you get used to new badness that comes after old badness subsides. she died 3 months later. on the day she died, my other dog -- all of two years -- licked the blood off of her paws, knowing it was the end. the tearful longing still comes at inconvenient times. like now.

this will not happen to my mother, i tell myself this, i tell others this, i believe this. but i know that it could. i am thankful for the sacred tree that covers us with blessed love.

is the cure worse...?

mom looks very sick, i don't think she knows. radiation on a tumor located on her spine, they are afraid it will damage the spinal cord, radiation daily for two weeks takes its toll. eating makes her feel like not eating any more. dad, in a daze, takes over organizing dr. notes, treatments, bills, medicine schedules. i see his concern, but he works hard to hide what he feels. we bring her books on nutrition, we bring her hugs, we bring her prayers. the chemo pill makes her even more nauseous, but how can she tell which is it? radiation, chemo, hormone blocker? she sees a new oncologist, closer to home. i'm afraid chemo would kill her, she doesn't look strong enough. he prescribes meds to help with radiation effects -- sore throat, nausea, fatigue. no more chemo pills. she will take the hormone blocker, perhaps for the rest of her life. we gather for a family portrait, we gather to bring her love, we gather because we are afraid we may not gather again.

one day in the sun

it is the day before dad's birthday, my last day to smoke, and mom is having a mammogram. suspicious, but likely nothing. it was quiet during lunch. a lump, there would be more tests before anyone left. breast cancer. it would be removed, the day is a blur, and i cry driving home. i quit smoking the next day, dad's birthday.

a visit with the surgeon. a blow to the stomach, life swings a bat and sometimes it hits you. the back pain is tumors. it won't be removed. breast cancer. stage IV.

poem for no one

Under a sacred tree sat I, warbling a silly sad song.
Under a cloistered sea swam I, riding the rip tyde home.
Dreaming of delicate days was I, encircled and held all close.
But I woke to a buzz in a brack, breaks inside my head,
Weaving this path alone.