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    Mikiesboy
  • Mikiesboy
  • Author
  • 05/09/2020
  • 130 Words
  • 2,877 Views
  • 19 Comments
The content presented here is for informational or educational purposes only. These are just the authors' personal opinions and knowledge.
Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are based on the authors' lives and experiences and may be changed to protect personal information. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

tim's Bits and Pieces - 59. Groundhog Day

Not a happy poem ... pandemic sadness and depression

It escapes me, the reasons for living

as does the joy in just being me

life is all questions, and I ponder

the reasons we are here at all

 

Live in the present, people like to tell me

I would, if I could figure out how

It’s the future that I consider

And the inevitable for which I wait

 

I am aware that time is passing

Understand what I’ve lost is my fault

But I can’t seem to change what I feel

Or believe in the lies about hope

 

My days are loops of depression and despair

Broken by lightness, here and there, then it's gone

They repeat and are bound to, again and again

I am trapped in my own Groundhog Day

                           ***

If you have hope... hang on to it. Take care.
Copyright © 2018 Mikiesboy; All Rights Reserved.
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The content presented here is for informational or educational purposes only. These are just the authors' personal opinions and knowledge.
Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are based on the authors' lives and experiences and may be changed to protect personal information. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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mayday

If there is one holiday that has always struck me as superstitious it is what we here call Maria Lichtmess (= the mass of Mary of the Light or whatever), on the second of February. even as a (very pious Catholic) child I could not get my head around that ritual at church: Crossed candles, lit, and what the hell did they have to do with fish bones in my throat? It is one thing I have never understood.

At the moment, so much is different, so much is in question.

Living in the present - how does that make sense?  As a piece of advice it seems to be useless: if you live in the present, ok, if you do not, how can you ever be forced/ convinced, lured, made to do it???? Either you do or you don't. And how can you live if not in the present???

Life to me in these uncertain times is in the swoop of the blue tits who have taken over one of our birdhouses for raising their young when they fly into the tiny opening.

It is the smell of new greens in the garden. The song of the nightingale at night. The sound of the cuckoo during the day from afar.

The future is in the blue tits' nest.  I have been hearing it for days now, more and more lively. At first I hardly dared believe that there is new life in there. It was. 

To me, the future is nowhere else. birds' nests. Definitely not anything to do with me...

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dughlas
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You speak to the age old quandry of humanity. We fear the dark. Always in time of darkness we yearn for light. Whether a frightened child cowering alone in a darkened room fearing unseen monsters, a family huddled together waiting out a raging storm or a wizened elder alone in an empty room. In the not so distant past we lit bonfires to drive away the dark and cold of deep winter begging for light to return to the world and always it has ... be of good heart little brother you are not alone. Take hold of Michael's hand and know that when you do you grasp the hand of each of us.

Now not to creep you out or anything but we all promise that when Mike uses that hand to lead you to your bedroom and closes the door we'll all just stay outside and mind our own business.

Love you little brother.

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Mikiesboy
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@MichaelS36 @Carlos Hazday @chris191070 @Parker Owens @mollyhousemouse @Bard Simpson @dughlas @Thorn Wilde @Brayon @rickproehl

i am sorry to reply this way. i appreciate all of your replies very much, thank you. this .. thing has been harder to cope with than i'd thought it would be.  i hope you and your families are safe and well.

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Mikiesboy
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15 hours ago, JeffreyL said:

I tend to enjoy being at home. I have days of feeling housebound and days of ennui since this whole Covid/ social distancing started. On the plus side my daughter and her fiance live with me. Knock on wood we are all well, and I have family to help me get back on track. Stay well Tim and hang in there. 😷❤

i'm glad you are doing okay and have family with you.  i don't think i'd have made through this on my own. i am so grateful Michael is here.  i am doing better than i was when i wrote this.  it's been somewhat better. you hang in there too!! 💖

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Mikiesboy
On 5/9/2020 at 5:39 PM, mayday said:

If there is one holiday that has always struck me as superstitious it is what we here call Maria Lichtmess (= the mass of Mary of the Light or whatever), on the second of February. even as a (very pious Catholic) child I could not get my head around that ritual at church: Crossed candles, lit, and what the hell did they have to do with fish bones in my throat? It is one thing I have never understood.

At the moment, so much is different, so much is in question.

Living in the present - how does that make sense?  As a piece of advice it seems to be useless: if you live in the present, ok, if you do not, how can you ever be forced/ convinced, lured, made to do it???? Either you do or you don't. And how can you live if not in the present???

Life to me in these uncertain times is in the swoop of the blue tits who have taken over one of our birdhouses for raising their young when they fly into the tiny opening.

It is the smell of new greens in the garden. The song of the nightingale at night. The sound of the cuckoo during the day from afar.

The future is in the blue tits' nest.  I have been hearing it for days now, more and more lively. At first I hardly dared believe that there is new life in there. It was. 

To me, the future is nowhere else. birds' nests. Definitely not anything to do with me...

For some reason... this is dated May 9, 2020... and today i received the notification of it .. very odd if you did post it today.. and odder still if you did on May 9, 2020 and i am just seeing it now.

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