Monthly Archives: January 2013


Lapsing has been a theme in my life
Lapsed catholic in the religion box
Eventually accepted as life choice
Several lapses
Before I stopped polluting lungs and life with nicotine
Then came lapses beyond my control
These days memory lapses plague me
Thoughts there one minute
Gone the next
And the words
I know these wonderful luscious vibrant words
Yet they dance just out of reach
Mocked and tantalized by circumstance
No longer searching for the meaning of life
Just the answer to one question
Are my memory lapses menopausal meanderings
Or the first rung
On the diving board into dementia?
Tricia 5/07

My favourite new bookends.


The Pangaea Prize

The Pangaea Prize.

thepoet’sbillow is a wordpress site that some of you may be interested in. You have until May 2013 if you want to enter The Pangaea Prize. If you click on the blue highlited title of the competition you’ll find the details.

Work previously published on a blog, or any other medium is ineligible. I’m a bit sad about this because I would have liked to enter some of my health related poems. Guess I’ll just have to ‘push the boat out’ a bit further.

They actually ‘liked’ my latest poem Then and Now. For some reason I’m getting some new traffic stopping by my site. I’m not complaining, just intrigued.

As one of my mentors Bob Neimeyer says “Good words to you.”

Then and Now

Then and Now
Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the house
Memories danced
Slow waltz by Strauss
Parents quietly giggling
Frantic wrapping of gifts
Kissing and cuddling
Christmas Eve tryst
At a tinsel covered tree
Sat a 3 year old boy
Gazing not touching
Blue eyes sparkling with joy
His mother and father
Watched in delight
Worth every moment
Of their sleepless night
Awed by the gifts
Crowded under the tree
When the wrapping came off
Awe turned to glee
As the years rolled by
It became tradition to read
Twas The Night Before Christmas
Adult child – loving screed
Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the house
Memories were flooding
Absent child absent spouse
Tricia 12/2012

I Care

I Care

“I pray your hope returns

and your depression lifts”

she wrote.
Yes I’d written the word depression
it wasn’t my depression.
The poem was titled
Night Vision
even wrote the word dream
and yet…
I wonder if others
read my words thinking
‘Poor soul
without hope’.
Why  do I care?
I care so much
my fingers barely kept pace
as my response clamoured
onto the screen.
My words of sorrow
are often woven
with nature’s beauty.
As I write the roads of grief
I discover culs-de-sac
carpeted  with fallen petals,
vibrant dawns,
precious memories.
These things are an intricate
integral part of my journey.
Somedays my words are sorrowful,
must there be a moratorium on mentioning
life’s sad truths?
Then there’s
Many poems resonate
with these precious gifts.
Why do I care?
I care because too often
Sorrow is misdiagnosed as depression,
I care because depression is an illness
and sorrow is a sometimes thing
a  natural state of being.
I care because both sorrow and depression
need to be discussed but not confused
I care because
hopelessness and depression killed my son.
We all have a story
mine’s pretty much out there
I’m more than any one poem,
I’m a compilation
variations on a theme.
You read my words
through your personal filter,
I respond through mine.
I write because I must
I write because I care.
Tricia 01/2013

Night Vision

Night Vision 
Dark shadows
Flash of steel
Your man-child face
One eye sparkling
The other streaming tears
Cleaved by depression’s Damoclean sword
One hand reaching 
The other pushing away
Terror grips my guts
As I realise
It’s not my chasm to cross 
Long gone 
Days of encompassing womb love
And yet….

In my dreams

Fighting still to save you
Even though
You are 13 years dead
Tricia 01/2013