Author Archives: triciabertram

Limited Vision

He wrote about how the thought of
Being a burden
Pained
She wanted to reach out and hold him
As her energy diminishes
She knows the constancy of those thoughts
To be a burden to those she loves
Intolerable
Indiscernible fear of asking too much
Clarity of overwhelming gratitude
For all the loving help she’s been given
All she knows with certainty
Love must be preserved

Tricia 7/2014
(Thanks for the inspiration, Peter)

The Last Day

Tomorrow’s the day
For quietly honouring your dying
Today I’m cocooned
In the last day of your living
Oh it was a good day
A day of shared laughter – loving – nurturing
Five years ago and yet
It still plays perfectly
In the movie theatre of my mind
You were unwell
Had a doctor’s appointment for the following day
Nonetheless you were witty and playful
Me working in the study
You working in the bedroom
Less than a dozen steps apart
You’d not have needed to raise your voice
And yet you Skyped me
Held Big Ted in front of the screen
“We’re poorly and we’re thirsty”
Then that cheeky grin
The breath leaves my body as I remember
How your eyes sparkled
We had a cuppa
Watched an episode of Poirot
Then you had a sleep
I was concerned because
You who loved your food
Had eaten very little over the last few weeks
I asked if there was anything you fancied
I finally tempted you with a little grilled King George whiting
A couple of boiled chat potatoes
There was broccoli too but you said
“It’s mean to make a sick person eat vegetables”
You didn’t want wine so we had San Pellegrino water
In crystal wine glasses
You gave me a hug
Told me how much you’d enjoyed your dinner
Then wandered back to bed
I sat and read for a couple of hours
Before going to bed
I climbed in
Gave you a kiss and a cuddle
Then realised the overhead light was still on
Neither of us wanted to get up
Your suggestion cracked me up
“I could chuck Big Ted at the light switch
Maybe he can turn it off on his way past”
I ruffled your hair and said
“You’re a funny little fucker aren’t you”
I stumbled out of bed
Turned the light out
Crawled back in
Still laughing so much the bed was shaking
I fell asleep chuckling
The next thing I remember…
No
That’s tomorrow’s story
Today is for honouring
Our lovely last day

Tricia 13/7/2014

► 2:23► 2:23
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q3Kvu6Kgp88

Games I Play

Among the pleasures
Of living alone
Freedom to be me
In my sanctuary home
One can vent
To their hearts content
No feathers to unruffle
When the venting’s spent
If I get very cross
Do you know what I do
Throw empty plastic bottles
At the glass door – yes it’s true
I always keep a few
On the table by my chair
Ready for chucking when something pokes
My sleeping inner bear
I’ve this special grabber thingy
‘Coz my bending days are done
It enables me to pick things up
When I’ve had my venting fun
It’s empowering for me
As my body slowly wears out
To know I can still cut it
In the game of chuck and shout
Sometimes I’m amused
By the childlike thinks I do
Did I tell you I play basketball
With the rubbish bin – yes it’s true
I miss more than I sink
Tissues and papers litter the floor
But oh what fun it is
When I get to yell “She scores”
My wonderful grabber thingy
Helps me tidy up the mess
But some shapes are tricky
I can get frustrated I confess
That’s when I circle back to venting
I’m well versed in naughty words
Let’s pretend I just exclaim
“You annoying little turds”
Some might call it temper
I call it healthy release
If you’re bothered I know a few members
Of The Australian Venting Police

Tricia 6/2014

Simple Pleasure

To dance naked on a summer’s night
Splashing in the sea
My hearts delight
No one taught me this depth of pleasure
‘Tis an instinct
I’ll always treasure
To feel the sea’s soft caress
naked legs
Stomach and breast
I’ve shared this halcyon joy and lust
My love my life
The man I trust
Oh my hearts precious delight
Sharing nights ocean
Loves darkness light
Years have passed since thus I’ve played
But sweetest memories
Have forever stayed

Tricia 6/2014

In response to

http://pookypoetry.wordpress.com/2014/06/01/poetry-prompt-32-simple-pleasures/

Screensaver

Screensaver

Screensaver

Almost six years
Since she took the precious photo
Part of a series
Documenting
What was to be
Their final journey to Squeaky Beach
Where nine years earlier
They’d scattered the ashes
Of their only child
Squeaky Beach at Wilsons Prom
Was his favourite place
He loved the serenity
Sitting on the sand
Silently watching the waves roll in
The quirk of nature that caused
The sand to squeak
When walked on
His troubled mind soothed
By the sea he loved
The perfect place
For his life’s final ritual
Each year on the anniversary of his death
They’d return
Share stories champagne tears and laughter
Six weeks before the tenth anniversary
Her husband collapsed
Died in her arms
At first she couldn’t bear
To make the journey without him
By the time she was ready
Her declining health
Made the journey impossible
It was only a few weeks ago
She reached a place of acceptance
Her next journey to Squeaky Beach
Would be with her husband
When their ashes were scattered
Together
Until then
She’d gaze daily at her screensaver
Remembering

Tricia 5/2014

Written in response to Pooky’s Prompt

http://pookypoetry.wordpress.com/2014/05/30/poetry-prompt-30-screensaver/

And Yet

I don’t believe in any life but this one
And yet
As four strangers fought to revive you
I walked the circle weeping and shaking
Family room
Kitchen
Dining room
Lounge
Murmuring all the while
“Come back to me my love
Come back”
I don’t believe in any life but this one
And yet
As time passed and the battle continued
I walked the circle
Crying out to our dead child
“You can’t have him yet Ken
I’m not ready”
I stood in the family room
Watching them trying to pound life
Into your unresponsive body
Then walked the circle again
I don’t believe in any life but this one
And yet
I wrapped my arms around myself whispering
“I don’t want you to go but if you must
It’s ok my love – it’s ok”
I love you more than life
Would give anything for just 5 minutes more
Any yet
I don’t believe in any life but this one

Tricia 5/2014

(I woke to the news of Maya Angelou’s death
Spent the morning reading her poems
I don’t share all her beliefs
And yet
Her poetry speaks to me
This is where the aftermath
Of her words, her death, took me today)

Friendship Tree

Friendship Tree

First her son
Then her husband
Both died suddenly
At times
So lost and sad
She felt she’d cease to be
With each death
More fruit fell
From the fragile friendship tree
Blossom
Once luxurious
Almost nothing left to see
She wondered
Why the friendship fruit
Dropped on fallowed ground
Thought maybe with time
They’d blossom anew
Rotting fruit was all she found
Then her health deteriorated
Breathing more difficult
As her body slowed
More fruit
Fell from branches
Withered fruit was all that showed
Ah well she thought
That’s how it is
I’ve still a few fruit to treasure
With help
I’ll plant a new tree
Fresh blossom brings much pleasure
Replanted friendship tree
Much stronger
Nestled in nutrient filled soil
She was peaceful and content
Knowing her new
Friendship fruit wouldn’t spoil
She still doesn’t understand
Why so much fruit
Rotted on the ground
These days
She’s filled with gratitude
For the new friendship tree she has found

Tricia 5/2014

Written in response to the following prompt. Thanks Pooky and Peter for leading the way.

http://pookypoetry.wordpress.com/2014/05/24/poetry-prompt-24-fragile-friendships/

When All Else Fails

When All Else Fails

They’d not been married long
Already he was ignoring her
Every time the football was on the telly
It was as if he acquired sudden onset deafness
She tried standing in front of the telly
He just leant sideways and looked around her
She tried sitting on his lap
“Not now love, I’m watching the footy”
Never one to give up
She dressed in her finest neglige
Added high heels and long gloves
Plugged in her CD player
Put Shirley Bassey’s Hey Big Spender on
Turned up the volume
And sashayed into the TV room
By the time she began to remove the second glove
She had his undivided attention
It was the next day
Before he bothered to check
The football scores

Tricia 5/2014

► 2:04► 2:04
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k8FlmXla0Pw

(Written in response to Pooky’s Poetry Prompt – Striptease)

Memories

Memories

Life had taught her much about
Deciduousness
Regrowth
And yet
Wrapped in winter’s embrace
She ached for the fallen leaves

Vangelis understood
He composed
Memories of Green
The notes
That words
Can’t express

Tricia 5/2014

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hthBAnBDNw0

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