Strange Bird Flying

Why did strange bird start flying? To free herself from the cage she has kept herself in.

The Weight of A Rock

The Weight of A Rock
Collage created from magazine pictures and fonts - my most important piece of art. I hope it inspires creativity and awareness of the damage that can be done to children. Not all survive.

I the Owner

All writing, photos, and artwork added to this blog belong to me, Judy Sayers. Do not copy or reuse in any form for any purpose without explicit permission from myself. Thank you



Thursday, July 8, 2010

"Get Up"


     "Get up!"

     "No" a voice said silently in my head.

     "GET UP!!"

      "No!" I whined outloud. "Go away."

      "You HAVE to get UP!" I told myself again. I didn't want to. I'd woken up in the middle of the night and had a hard time falling back asleep. I like to be up by 8:00 A.M. every morning. I know that. But this morning I just didn't want to and here I am not letting myself sleep a little longer knowing full well what a hard night I'd had.

      "I hate you." I said lowly.

      "Well, I don't particularly like you either," I silently replied back.

      "Well, are you getting up or not?"

      "Shi by my mah tuk oh may!!"

     "Shut up!" I stopped myself. I say gibberish at odd times.I don't like it. I don't mean to either, but its automatic. Sometimes it happens when I think about past events. As a result, I pretty much have to stay in the present because my brain has an override. The gibberish immediately brings me out of the past memory. Although I don't like that I do this, I try to see this insane action as positive simply because it protects me from my own past. I can't visit and stay there. And its better than the swear words, which I absolutely hate. In this instance, the gibberish occurred because I was making myself do something I didn't want to and I was very tired.

     So I get up because I am obviously not going to let myself stay in bed. How rude!!

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Strange Bird

Strange bird
Strange bird I am,
Or so Ed had called me.

"Strange bird," he'd laugh
I am, not always knowing
the cause of his gladness

Something said
In serious innocence
But taken ever lightly

I'de smile as if I knew
"You strange bird," he'd say
I am.

[Poem was made many years ago in memory of my late husband: Edward Ray Sayers, who found my naivete amusing. I thought it was a most fitting name for my blog.]



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