Anger, so much anger
Blast of a new world.

Cheated, we were cheated
Dangerously torn.

Evil, this is evil
Frozen there we stood
Ground fading under our feet
Having heard what it was.

I cried and cried my eyes out
Jolly folks we were, not
Knowing what it was
Later we were told.

Manage, try your best
Now you cannot cure.

Our lives are now so different
Pretending all is good.

Quakes is our souls
Restlessy adjusting
Sugars, shots and finger pricks.

Try and try and try.

Ups and downs
Vary the therapy
What does it feel? He's only two.
X, cross, bad.

Yes, we know...three...two...one...
Zero...go!

Now I know my ABC's
Next time won't you sing with me.

A Reminder

Lurking in the back of my mind are numbers, letters,
Type 1, MDI, Count those Carbs,
one more PWD.
Why do we work so hard to live?

My golden Cici came nose to nose with death.
She has survived.
Once again she smiles a golden smile.
So many human friends, dog friends, cared.

Thank you, Cici, for the reminder.
We test, inject, keep on counting,
because others care for us,
because there is joy in caring for ourselves.

~Trudy
MDI = multiple daily injections
PWD = person with diabetes

Little Diabetic
I’m not diabetic. I just have a little sugar.
Give me a little sugar. (kiss)
I’m not diabetic. I’m only borderline.
And I don’t look at the borderline.
Just a little diabetic.
I’m a little diabetic.
"You’re a short diabetic."
A little diabetic.
Is that like a little pregnant?
Is that like slightly dead?
I’m not diabetic.
I control my sugar by running several miles a day.
If I eat, I run.
As long as I stay away from food and keep running, I can say: I am not a diabetic.
I’m not diabetic. I was told I no longer have to test.
Chronic means forever.
Chronic means every day.
Chronic means it never goes away.
We manage.
We control.
We hide.
See I’m doing fine.
No worries.
Just the highs, but I shut my eyes.
No one needs to know.

This is adapted from scene 6 of The Sweet Lowdown, premiering at Broom Street Theater Madison, WI October 25 and running through November 16, 2013. The Sweet Lowdown is made possible in part with funding from DHF Seeds.

Haiku for the Invisible

My unseen disease.
Displays no outward signs – yet.
Inside, though, it hurts.

TIME:

So. How’s it going? How was your day?
Honey, I’m home.
Busy. Busy. Busybusybusy. Oh Yah.
No time. Borrowed time. Time to go.
Time passed.
Yet the time has come.
Prime time.
And what a time!
Time to eat.
Time to sleep.
Time to pray.
Time to clean that gun…..
Time out
Time heals
But time’s up.

So. What did you do today?
Had yourself a busy day?
Had yourself a fast day.
Oooh!
No time, gotta run.
Gotta runrunrun.

Run for the border. Run to the store.
Run into friends and run til you’re sore.
Run round and round. Run to and fro.
Run out of breath and run til you glow.
Run about run about run about and shout.
Careful not to notice time’s running out.
Oh yaah.

Night's Haiku

Sleep is elusive
while D.P. hovers, threatens.
May our nights be safe.

Trudy

What I am or what I was

After 45 years bipolar is
Like a stranger in my mind now
I used to know and I used to love
It used to be me, mine
And made me what I am or.... was

With drugs I am different
Without drugs I would surely be lost
And yet still think about suicide
Which is not supposed to happen
Because of what I am or.... was

The pitiful me that is left
Must be loved like a stray kitten
Fed and cared for with all my will
And is the key to feeling good
In spite of what I am or.... was
Don

I have been type one for 53 years but also bipolar for nearly the same number of years.

Lithium

Limits depression
Limits mania
These things are me
My true and natural self

The ultimate sacrifice
To give up my soul
For family and friends
Yesterday always looks better

I want, everyday
To be somewhere where
I can be myself
To cry and fly to my heart's content

Instead I sit here
wait to cry and be sad, somewhat
wait to fly, and be manic, somewhat
I want extreme because

That's who I am

Don

To care

Forever fades away
So sad is forever
forever is forever
being sad is forever
When it is life it's forever

I am incorporeal
I am not really here
I can't be here
this can't be real
Why.......

Because I care
Because I feel
I have to feel sad
My lot in life
My reason for being

I could have been anything
But that never happened
Instead I became compassionate
And then I began to suffer
Because I care

Don

Doctors

How do you feel today
Any aches any pains
When I am done, you’ll be OK
I’m very good, with all but brains

“Your soul looks fine”, pulling that thing from my ear.

Must be my soul, lodger of my brain
Thorn lies twixt the anarchical twins
Must be my brain, that mush with vein
Serpent, yes perfect, the grey just grins

“Your soul just complicates the tissue”

Brain just loves to shake the cage
From the bad side of a gene
Soul just spirals into a rage
Brain don’t like the word serene
Don (Miss Kitka)

April Haiku

Twenty years, pricking,
stabbing fingers and belly.
April, bring me hope!

Trudy

Can I be someone else?

Can I be like some one else
who doesn't have this curse?
with keys and cell phone chargers
instead of glucose in my purse?

Can i be like someone else
with less anxiety?
instead of eating all i want
i have to prick and see.

Can i be like someone else
who sleep all through the night?
instead of waking up at dawn
with hypo as a fright.

Can i be like someone else
whose arms and legs are clear?
instead of me, whose arms and legs
are black and blue all year.

I cannot be like someone else
whose struggles differ drastically,
although my lifes not easy
i have learned to just be me.

i would like to know if the second edition of the " no sugar added poetry" is now on sale.

how do i enter a poem???

It's just not fair! All the good stuff happens in March and April! I miss Easter and St. Patrick and even The Ides of March plus the best buds of spring, but this is the last straw. Because I have to process Canadian income tax returns for the top third of every year, I don't get to play at tuD when they have their poetry contest. Even "Poetry Day" is in March.

Now I'm no Shakespeare or Poe, no Nashing or Frosting either, but I do have what is generally described as a 'bizarre' sense of humour and I presume that is ok with tuD folks since I was so honoured with the Class Clown title again this year. But I can only hope that this "seal of approval" will bear with me for this desperate and still tardy attempts at poesy... no, not the bold and beautiful rhymes of my fellow diabetics here - those stirring words I've been reading all morning, but still me... irreverent bikette - surprised that nobody entered that age-old, long revered, ever untimely and dubious wisdom of The Limerick.

1. In the first unnamed effort of three unnamed efforts, let us quickly butter up the boss:

There once was a leader named Manny
His way with tuD folk was uncanny.
He could win all our hearts
With his genuine smarts.
One can never have too many Manny’s.
*************************************

2. Along the lines of Romeo and Juliet - Here's a Shakespearean effort (with all due deference to our American friends):

Hark! What number through yonder display breaks?
Be it 2 (mmol/L) or 50 (mg/dL) and I be low -
Needing sweets to make a go;
Yet 10 (mmol/L) to 200 (mg/dL) makes me high
And I must run to break the tide.

Hypo! Hyper! Wherefore art thou sweet balance?
Deny thy lows and refuse thy shots -
Or, if thou wilt not be balanced, dear blood
Then I shall no longer be needing insulin.
********************************************

Deep huh? Romeo will never be the same. And those Capulets always reminded me of medication anyway. "What? You have a nasty case of Montague! You should take two Capulets and call me in the morning." but I digress (often).

3. Last ditch pitch at another Limerick...

There once was a medic named Banting
His patients were sick and demanding
He felt the allure
To fashion a cure
Without which we’d all be fermenting.
*************************************

That's it. Way too little and way too late. I know, but at least I can Rest in Pieces knowing that I didn't miss out on BOTH books of poetry from this group of fine talents.
Thanks for your patience and as always... for your friendships. Even when I'm busy taxing, I feel better just knowing that there are people here now who will also be here on May 1, when the Gates to Tax Hell are finally pushed aside.

And congratulations to the deserving winners of the 2012 Poetry Contest. I bet you feel soooo lucky that I was otherwise occupied at the time of the judging! Not! :-)
~b

Hi Rarejewel,

You can read all the poems submitted in this page, just click the like bellow that says "View All Comments" that will display all the content since we started the program.

To order our breathtaking book you can go to theDHF Store; but keep in mind that this book does not include all the poems, is a compilation from the first contest we run on 2010. It is a great-beautiful book and I highly recommended, but you can read most poems online.

I have a question? How do you orde a copy of the poetry book and will all submissions be included in the book? How can I read all poems by everyone that submitted to the contest?

I Don’t Want to Miss it…

I have two angels in my life
And a love too
And I DON’T want to miss it
I want to see this story through

I want to be there for the science fairs, spring concerts
The boo boos, the flu, to catch them when they fall
The birthdays, graduations, weddings, grandchildren
And not miss a thing, see it all

I want to grow old with him
To be his gray-haired old friend
All wrinkly and prune-like
When we reach our eternal end

I want to be there just in case
My greatest fear becomes real
To carry some of the burden
To understand how it feels

I’m too stubborn to give in
And committed to endure
So I take my daily steps
In hopes WE find a cure

I am a mother
I am a wife
I am a diabetic
And I don’t want to miss any of it.

I don't typically write poetry, but I was so excited to have my lost lancing device replaced earlier this month - that I was moved to write a love poem to the new device.

******
Ode to a lancing device

Last week in LA, I left something behind.
Didn’t know what to do, thought I’d lose my mind.
Hiding under the bed on the hotel room floor,
Sat the lancing device I’d do just about anything for.

I read about this tool years ago on the internet
Looking for an alternative to the blood sucking bayonet.
All lancing devices are not created the same,
Some are designed to poke while others just maim.

With lancets preloaded in the shape of a drum
It won’t cause me pain, or make my fingers feel numb.
Eleven depth setting are offered for skin of all type
Personalized comfort, one less reason to gripe.

The design of the drum reduces side-to-side motion
Which reduces skin tearing, a beautiful notion.
A beveled edge on the lancet cap lines up on my skin.
Testing with anything else, may as well use a pin.

I complained last week on Twitter about my poor finger.
The pain from other lancing devices was starting to linger.
A DM brought me quickly to customer support,
Where I found out my pain would soon be cut short.

Late Friday afternoon a package was delivered to my door.
Seeing the return address on the box, my heart started to soar.
I love my MultiClix, which by now everyone knows.
And with that this beautiful poem now comes to a close.