Posted on April 30, 2019 by admin

I GOT THE GOUT

H. W. Bryce

I got the gout, I got the wheeze,
I got the – bless me, I gots tuh sneeze—
I get pneumonie quite with eaze
I’m gettin’ old, if you please.

Well I don’t please, don’t you see?
Cause I get the rheumatism, in my knee,
I get the ache in my “sacrophiliac.”
If I were me, I’d give me the sack.

My rhythm and my rhyme’s all gone,
Now when I dance my count’s all wrong
So when I waltz, I trip and fall
Lost it all sometime late last Fall.

Gee whiz almighty it ain’t no fun,
My days are cloudy, ain’t much sun,
My lips are chapped, no teeth, just gum,
Day to day, hour to hour, it’s all quite ho-hum.

I expected to live forever
Long live me
But this old body machinery
Is wearing out.
“It’s an old age thing,” they say to me
Apparently
The human body is designed for
Planned obsolescence.
Ah me!

Yeah, I got the gout, I got the wheeze,
Pardon me while I sneeze,
I gotta go, I gotta plan,
Got one last thing I gotta do,
Gotta buy me a box to lay me in,
Try it on for size,
Buy a plot to plant the lot.
Shine up my smile for when I meet
Old Saint Pete at the pearly gate
Gotta shed all the hate
Limber up my arthritic hand
To hold it out for St. Pete to shake.

Bye fer now, gonna brew a tea of mint
Rub my sore muscles with the linimint
Take a rest, I got the gout`112
But when I go, I’ll go with a mighty shout!

Image by Prawny from Pixabay

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Posted on April 22, 2019 by admin

 

Be Yourself picture

BE YOURSELF

H. W. Bryce

We all have several selves, we show a different face
In every situation. To our Mom we show
Respect and love; to our dad, admiration, pride;
But to the bully, we show either defiance
Or fear, our flight or fight face; to our boss, perhaps
Deference; perhaps behind his back, defiance, dislike.

But underneath these faces that we own, we own
Our own. Know who you are. It may seem obvious,
But it may also take some deep soul searching to find
The essential You, before you can say, “I know
Myself.” So be true to that in everything you do.

From whence you come, to where you go, like a great Oak
Tree, your life force is defined; you have control; be
A good gardener: fertilize your roots, branch out and
Guide your self along a path, through the maze of life.

Sometimes you’re blown away, and scattered to the winds,
Sometimes you find a shelter, somewhere, but are you
Growing up or dying out? Or are you at midpoint?
Are you You or someone else? Do you really know?

Well, my friend the truth floats with the wind. You read your
Compass point, you find your own true north, and all you
Have to do is follow that and you will find the
Way to be. Just make sure it’s the good you, not the
Evil one that lurks there always in the shadows.

To thyself be true,* the Bible says. Or so men say.
Truth before the easy way. Shakespeare said it too.
Peer Gynt echoed words, “Man, to thyself be true!” So
Find your Self and to thyself be true. That’s the way.

To thyself be true
It’s the only way

—
* To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man. William Shakespeare
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quot…/william_shakespeare_106104
Polonius to Laertes. Hamlet Act 1, scene 3, 78–82

The Bible expresses this in a different way:
Proverbs 18:2 ESV / 7 helpful votes Helpful Not Helpful
A fool takes no pleasure in understanding, but only in expressing his opinion.
– https://www.openbible.info/topics/knowing_yourself

* In the play “Peer Gynt” by Ibsen, there is an exchange between the Troll King and protagonist Peer Gynt:

Under the skies men have a common saying:
“Man, to thyself be true!” But here, ‘mongst Trolls,
“Troll, to thyself be – enough!” it runs.
https://forum.wordreference.com/…/to-thyself-be-enough.297…/

–IMAGE: https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/317785317435732163/

Posted in Alzheimer's, Being there, Caring, Faithful, Heart, Inner Travel, Lost, Poem, Rise up | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Poor Paris

Posted on April 22, 2019 by admin

 

Poor Paris - Notre Dame

pixay

POOR PARIS.

Goodbye Notre Dame.

What a tragedy.

I wrote this poem when Paris and France was under attack by terrorists, but perhaps it is apropos for today.

THE LAST TIME I SAW PARIS

H. W. Herb W Bryce

The last time I saw Paris, Paris was at peace,
People strolled the Champs-Élysées
And coffeed in cafes
Young people chatted animate
Young mothers strolled their babes in prams
People gathered everywhere
And the River Seine flowed free

The last time I saw Paris, the Eiffel Tower stood tall and proud
The young men soccered all the day
And the les filles they sang at work
Children spent the day at play
There where artists’ art could never tell a lie
Where the people nighted out, just to see a play
And the lights of Paris shone

Yes the last time I saw Paris, Paris was at peace
The sky was blue, Sacre-Coeur was white
And courage still was red
The last time I saw Paris, the flag flew there quite free

Oh the last time I saw Paris, they lived in liberty
They held equality and brotherhood
Closely to their hearts
They proudly sang La Marseillaise
Saluted their triumphal Arc
To protect their lands’ collective parts
And shared their gen’rous love

Yes the last time I saw Paris, Paris was at peace
The sky was blue, Sacre-Coeur was white
And courage still was red
The last time I saw Paris, the flag flew there quite free
— —

Image: https://pixabay.com/…/notre-dame-paris-france-europe-316694/

Posted in Alzheimer's, Blues, Caring, Dreams, Faithful, Friends, Grieving, Lost, Memories, Remembrance, Service | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

It Rained today

Posted on April 22, 2019 by admin

picture for It Rained today

IT RAINED TODAY

H. W. Bryce

It rained today. It rained yesterday.
And the day before that. Forecast:
It will rain tomorrow. Our version
Of the monsoon season? ’Fraid not,
Just our temperate climate, influenced
By the Gulf Stream up our coast.

It rained today inside my head.
Ideas struck by lightning-strike,
The thunder aching in my head,
The light rode away upon a bike
And everything was in a cloud
Muffled though screams escaped
And I could not even speak aloud,
And my poor psyche was sorely scraped.

Gulf Stream. Up our coast.
Wet source. Keeps us warm.
We could grow bananas here. But
Umbrellas shops thrive,
Bees stay in their hives,
And the rain makes the flowers grow.

But like the survival of the fittest,
We adapt, and we learn to brag
That our rain is the bestest rain
In all the world. And though the
Rain cloud seems to follow us
Around like the ever-lightning-
Ridden brain of him, the
Loaded rain cloud of cartoons,
We are not that Mr. Blkfx*

We are intrepid Wet Coasters
Always at the ready, brolly
Ever in hand, appropriate
Footwear on, rain slick, smile;
Yes, smile. We smile in the
Rain. After all, we are the Rain Coasters.

It rained today, inside my head,
A flood of worries I could not solve, but
Unnerving though it was, I carried on,
The best I could, with utmost resolve.
What else to do but see it through to dawn?
What else is a poor boy to do?

Image from
https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/468092955018719599/
Please note: Image maker – I could not find you. If it is not okay to use your picture, please contact me. Thank you.

*Mr. Blxfx – a reference to Al Capp’s Li’l Abner comic strip character.

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Goodbye Is Not

Posted on April 12, 2019 by admin

picture for Goodbye is not, a captu

Goodbye Is Not

Goodbye my friend, but
Always remember this:
Goodbye is not goodbye
Just because you leave me.
Our time together lives,
Lives on inside of me

I thank you for the time
That we had together.
Remember that goodbye
Is not ever a goodbye,
And is not forever
Between two who bond,
For it lives on inside of you.
It is only a good bye

Goodbye my friend,
The pleasure has been mine.
I’m gonna miss the love you gave me,
But you will live inside my heart, and
From there we will never part,
Just you wait and see.
Our love will ever be.
Goodbye is not goodbye,
We’re merely given a bye.

Goodbye is not goodbye
When it’s between good friends
Or lovers
It’s only a short parting
Our love is what friends lend
With open heart, no regret

Either way, we both have won the bet.

–H. W. Bryce

Bye – 1. (in a tournament) the preferential status of a player or team not paired with a competitor in an early round and thus automatically advanced to play in the next round.

— —
Goodbye is not goodbye not when it’s between good friends

Posted in Advocate, Alzheimer's, Care Giving, Caring, Dementia, Love, Poem | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Bad Trip

Posted on April 12, 2019 by admin

Bad Trip: Curse the pill

H. W. Bryce

Bad trip is as bad trip goes
Take a pill to cure an ill
Like everybody else knows…
Just don’t take that bad trip pill!

The doctor said my health was at high risk
And that pill would offer counter tweaks.
It’s not that I’m a sugar addict, mind,
It’s only that I love my sweets.

I took the pill to fight my high cholesterol;
Doc said I must reduce the fat.
I took the pill to control that sugar count,
And to know where my health was at.

Now my view is fuzzy, my mouth feels muzzy
And even sound is muffled now.
And to speak? I’ve quite forgotten how –
That doggone pill gave me a different view somehow.

So I read the small print on the label on the bottle,
And I was shocked to learn about the side effects:
Liver damage, diabetes, loss of eyesight,
Bleeding ulcers and other such dire defects.

I wish that I had never swallowed that pill
’Cause this is one hell of a really bad, bad trip!
Instead of fixing me up, it’s making me feel ill,
When all I wanted was my six-pack to rip.

Instead I get the scary warning notes
Of vision blurred and hunger in the extreme,
And worst of all, leading to Alzheimer’s –
It was so bad my skin broke out in ecxeme!

Never again blindly will I take them pills,
And I will try not to feel bilefully ill-willed
Toward the doctor who believed the sales guy
And forgot to ask about the pill, “Why?”

Now excuse me for a while, I am afraid
I really must now take me to my bed.

My wife complains I’ve lost my old mojo, Bad Trip …… 2
And that I look quite frightfully daid.

So if I do survive, I’ll swear me off those pills,
The cure is so much worse than is the darned disease.
The proof’s in the pudding: I’ve totally lost all my zip,
’Cause this has been one gawdawful bad, bad trip.

 

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The Winds of Change

Posted on April 2, 2019 by admin

pic for the winds of change

image from pixabay

The Winds of Change

H. W. Bryce

The winds of change are blowing

And I’m for blowing with it.

I can’t stand the status quo,

There’s no peace ahead for me.

You should blow away with me,

For those who do not heed the wind

Will be left behind and parched.

 

The Zeros are taking half the time,

The Ones are ruling half the place,

The speed of life is now on steroids,

And those who heed this not

Are bound to be left inside a void.

 

Jobs are melting, and so is faith,

Desperate times are lurking;

Who knows when lighting strikes,

With what wrath the grapes?

 

So I’m for moving on, I’ve set my sail

To catch the winds of change.

So much to learn, so much to rearrange,

Next thing you know it’ll be ESP as mail.

 

So I am gearing up to ride the wind

I’m seeking a brand new way to be,

I’m ratching up my brand new brave,

I’m going to ride the winds of change.

— —

Brought to you by Chasing a Butterfly,
available at Amazon:

 

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