Category Archives: Poems

When Positivity Goes Kerplunk

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by Christie Perkins

So I’m living in some crazy warped time zone. It comes with the territory of “cancer news” I suppose. In the easy-load-mode I’m scheduling my daily “to do’s” and suddenly I’m thrust into the cancer twilight zone.

It’s eerie.

When PositivityIt’s eerie because the days are long. In my normal world I’ve found myself wishing to squeeze more hours out of the day. Cancer news becomes that wish granter. It’s very generous at stretching out the days. Nice little guy.

So, suddenly I find myself saying, “Wow! Was that just yesterday? It seems so long ago.” Time is no longer my own. Oh boy, is it not at all. Faceless strangers begin writing their little memos on my to do list: doctors, phone calls, return calls, surgeries, temporary kid shifting (thank you all), check ups, check outs, checkbook hocking procedures followed by twisted facial locking procedures. Continue reading →

Twitterpation

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Finding and Keeping Love

by Christie Perkins

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Spring’s coming. It’s time to find a man. Classifieds or are you in the comics? No. My lifelong love is in the obituaries. Next place for ideas is slave dungeons.

So.  I created this sign in high school.  And I am happy to admit I did not find my guy in the slave dungeon (although he may have found himself in the slave dungeon when he married me… sorry guy.)

I found my guy in the Human Interest section.  Oh yes I did.

He was checking off the list for me: good with kids, treats me well, always talks me up, most forgiving person I’ve ever met, and showcases a perfect bald head (which I discovered later in marriage… he fashioned the parking lot hairstyle for quite some time).

These are just a few of his perks.  Everyone has their unique set of perks and most likely no two are exactly the same.  Everyone is awesome is some way. Everyone.

And we all have our quirks.

I wrote this poem in high school… I think it can apply well to any relationship.

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Self Investment

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What Steals Your Time?

By Christie perkins

003Do you wake up tired? Heavy with the tasks ahead of you?  Do you have one of those beds that wrestles you at night and latches onto you in the morning? Seriously.  It’s got its days and nights flip flopped.

After a long restless night your hairstyle is fine (you didn’t sleep long enough to mess it up).  But let’s face it you’ve earned a major frazzled bedhead brain.

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Angels Among Us

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4 year old Angel

by Christie Perkins

 

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAMy 4 year old boy has a sweet little friend going through chemo.  He has not missed one little prayer in his behalf.  I thought that after a few days he would move on with life and forget- getting wrapped up in dump trucks, crazy kid moments, writing on walls, and mutilating boxes with pens (don’t ask…I don’t even know what draws him into that.)

And if we forget to mention his little friend in prayer (which we have) he is grumpy with us.  He scowls and shoots out, “Hey, you forgot my friend.”  We tip our ears down, tuck in our tails, and repent.

Oh, we repent!

But, he is persistent and perfect in prayer.  He’s a four year old angel on a mission.

His prayers are always the same, “Please help my friend (calling him by name) to feel better. And I’m gonna ‘axe’ (AKA “ask”) my mom if he’s better when I’m done saying my prayer… Amen.”

And as always the same question jumps from his lips when he is done, “Mom, is he better?”

Perfect faith.

I wish it was that quick.

But, then I think.  You know what?  Yes.  It does work that way.  I’m certain a tiny stardust of hope floats his way.  It may only be a brief moment: a hopeful thought, a sweet dream, a moment of relief from aches and pains and losses and gains, or even Mom’s lips on his cheek.  All these little prayers- they are doing something.

And for a moment he feels better.

So, I’ve been thinking about my 4 year old boy and how much we need each others prayers.  How, at times, we are in need of angels and other times we are the angel.  And, really, it is the tiniest of things- like prayer- that are the big things.

He inspired this poem.

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