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Wednesday, November 22, 2017

POETRY OF EMOTION: RIGINAL.

by riginal (writer), moe australia, May 03, 2016

What's important kids? Poetry of emotion. A no no? :>) Listen to your inner voice. Maturity may stir your conscience? Regret is so so regretful don't you think?

WHAT'S IMPORTANT KIDS? POETRY OF EMOTION A NO NO?

"Bloody silly old fart,second time he's nearly burned the kitchen severe." The fire chief spoke loudly, knowing the old chap though down on hearing-would hear his flippant aside. Wiped ash from his lip shook his head did the chief. At 50 he had seen it before. Muttered to OF's wife. "Keep hub away from the stove!" Eric the burnee sighed. His wife was a kids' pushover. Umbilical cords never to be cut. For some women who give birth to children; shelve their own wants and align themselves to throw caution to the children's whims regarding their ongoing sacrifice for their flesh and blood. Understandable. Some would call the 20-year-old boy,and his 18-year old sister- spoiled rotten beyond personal monetary parental fling -over the border selfish. But Eric's wife succumbed to the children's wants out of love? The need to be loved? A purpose? Eric had the onset of dementia following a hurried Doc's report,or so it seemed. Though the Doc was busy. Scant time to spend with old farts.

Actually young people can forget stuff, stuff all said. I mean their electronic lives,wants, desires, took precedence over Eric's attempt to discipline or explain on many upsetting occasions that their rampant education and overseas plethora of jaunts cost money they couldn't really afford. But modern upbringing demands top education, sacrifice. Eric loved poetry. Excellent writer of such. Won some small accolades from printed. Kids said "great dad." Grate? I mean they didn't like poetry even in small doses. Very much educated in the reality of what money can bring to a young person s life. A need. Opportunity. Dollar gateway to an end result? Poetry was a luxury for the whimsical of heart. Why not pray tell...though mum's 'kids' didn't actually, in actuality, believe in the whimsical of God's poetry or prayer either? Maybe when they were older. Maybe? Youth in essence needed not the burden of health issues or aged redemption save. A by- product confined; eagerly sought after by the aged of mind and body. Induced by fear of the upcoming unknown? God knows.

Eric 'slept.' The children raged with contorted self- concern implicent. Eric sleepily heard "Mum! dad is too far gone to know what he's doing, even the doc said..." Mum as usual listened to the onslaught of emotion. Screwed by youthful concerned unconcern. Mum took another feel good pill.. Her anti-depressant agreed wholeheartedly like an infused drunk dependent. Bottled-secure in unreality and dazed thankfulness immune. Mum would always do so. Some women are like that. They not only live for their children, they live their life, clearing any obstacles in their offspring's rampant straddling half -measured leaps. Some women deny their children their wants and stick with their partners' in a concerted effort to placate all. A 'middle ground.' "Eric i'll look after you, i will," she said out of misguided earshot away from the ongoing mental bile built up against the weary man's will. "It's okay my dear it's okay." But mum wasn't even in the ballpark of insistence. It was decided with Eric's 'permission' he would be cared for in a 'special home.' Terminology of 'special' depending on terms of reference for the terminated of mental disparity? His wife was torn, sick of listening to her ingrained unwanted fears. Another pill. After all- her own flesh and blood- she caved in. Eric was shifted with A4 and pencil to 'Gladlygo' retirement centre. Some residents wanted that to occur. They'd Gladly go! "You'll be all good here dad-looked after." Mum was devastated to a degree. Agreed reluctantly. The kid's sold up the property, goods and chattels... in their favor flavor. Took over the somewhat complicated process of sale etc, ably assisted by the beaming real estate agentia who made a great reap of faith. Not grim reapers of money...a happy smiling simile. An onlooker 'been there dumb that' would have deduced. Mum had a friend who was silent and tactful. Real friends have that propensity to accept without intrusion.The children went overseas to punt the money at their goal in life-to achieve. After all "dad is in the bestest place mother." Mum and her close friend started to live an alternative lifestyle. Life goes on...and ongoing forgives with the sandpaper rasp of time wrinkled smooth. Though the dose of anti D was upped as a precaution. Best to err on the side of numb and dazed- insistence incumbent.

The nurse assigned to Eric-Eric loved. Became attached to June. A bond beyond duty as oft happens in close encounters of the disturbed mind? He'd wink and nod in their pleasant conversations. She was surprised by his response to her gentle caring words. June-hopeful- somewhat confused as a newcomer, went to the head honcho. " He's remarkably cognitive. Should he be here?" Honcho shrugged. Didn't open Eric's file.What for? "This happens with dementia June, Eric will succumb. He'll have those moments of clarity." Eric died. June cleaned out his room-thoroughly. Tearfully.She lifted the mattress- astounded. Gobsmacked. Beautiful poetry,beautifully written, on neatly stacked though flattened- A4. A note to the children underneath. June handed the note to the head honcho with a demanding accusatory look. It read, "Dear still growing up children. Hope you are happy about the money; should suffice for pleasant travel with plenty over. Silly i know, but i planned this money to you earlier than a normal 'run of the parental dill' inheritance. :>) Set fire to the kitchen deliberately, twice in fact, so that it would give you the foundation for your arguments to install me here. My relationship with your mum was, i guess, second fiddled. Overwhelmed by your personal need. I wish you all the best, my wife too, in all jocularity i fooled you all and the Doc test. But remember this. You'll have your own kids one day...no hard feelings. Hope they understand and YOU understand and it will come with age. Money is okay, means to an end they say...just hope your kids won't be mean in the end. Goodbye...your loving poetic dad with dementia. :>) June wept. The head honcho crumpled the note placed it in the waste bin carefully. "June nothing to be gained by forwarding this on." "Can i keep the poetry Doctor?" June gathered it walked out the door before he could reply. Resigned.

Fanciful story? No. 80% true told to me by a lady i met. Except yes the guy did have problems, but his wife was brainwashed by the kids. They wanted their inheritance yesterday. And yes to her credit she could have looked after him before the inevitable. The kids rallying won through. The unbreakable sometimes selfish outcome of want before need. Result of "we want and want it now!" Bugger the consequence. Not bitching, but had the same fill pon giving my 45 year marriage wife partner a choice. Me or a spoiled rotten daughter with mental problems. Lost just about everything in an effort to remedy. No go. 'One flew over the cuckoo nest result' i'll write it up one day. My life. And leave it under a mattress.:>) I inserted the 'poetry' bit, not true, simply because i care for a remarkable poet who - to be honest- has won my heart. We'll see. Just think before you go selfish and demanding on parents, kids of all ages. You didn't ask to be born...neither did we! Cheers. Go give the parents a big hug. Sound old hat? Hats get passed on. Hope it fits in with your ambitions. Take care. Parents try. With various outcomes. :>)



About the Writer

Bio...bioio...daylight come an i wanna go home. Come missa tele man tele me banana. A banana tele? Seriously would like to hook up with other comedy writers to engage.
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2 comments on POETRY OF EMOTION: RIGINAL.

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By HomeRearedChef on May 03, 2016 at 05:51 pm

Oh, Riginald, how true, how true this rings. Unfortunately, I know a handful of people that have had to deal with greedy children, impatient to see what is left to them. The hatchery of a careless and insensitive heart won't let them wait. Sigh.

This brought tears to my eyes, but it also put a smile on my face, when I realize that hubby and I have nothing to leave our children except memories. Our children, actually, are taking care of us, and we are not retired yet. lol! I guess we've done something right. :)

Cheers, dear friend, and keep sharing your stories.

~Virginia

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By souschef on May 04, 2016 at 01:11 am

Wow! Very nice bit of writing!

A heart-breaking story.

So Eric made it easier for his wife to totally give in to the kids.

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