Poetry from Monique - When Hindsight Hurts

For a change of pace, here's a poem from one of our newer members, Monique.

When Hindsight Hurts

Hindsight offers me a gleaming glimpse of what may have been my future

Shimmering in the realms of possibilities lost – vanished – never to return

The path I rejected was so attractive to me, it sparkled with the promise of happiness

Yet fear of circumstances that had not yet appeared frightened me away

I didn’t feel strong enough to accept what could happen; the failure that may ensue

Unequipped on many levels to face what might have happened

So I veered down an alternative route, a gravelly road

 A less appealing route, alas one the ignorance of youth perceived a safer option

One that would keep my ego intact, protecting it from the unpleasantness of failure

Upon reflection I wince at the cowardly actions of that person that called herself me many years before

Life has turned 360 degrees since then and she is alien to the me I know now.

Sometimes I feel bewildered with disbelief that the same person can make decisions so foreign.

However bitter the pill of yesteryear is to swallow, swallow it I did

And when I wonder why I was too feeble to advocate for the path that sparkled with so much promise

I remind myself that I chose the path that allowed me to become the wise woman that I am today

The enlightenment is cold but true, that simmering beneath the surface of my choices

The nature of life acts subliminally to secure growth, wisdom and wonder

Succeed I did to become somebody I want to be – I only wish there had been a less stony path.

Monique Constable

Jean Allen's alias has a Bad Day!

 Chapter 7,846 of Caffeine Kate’s Bad Day book.

Caffeine Kate woke up this morning after a bad night’s sleep.
I shouldn’t have read so late. I shouldn’t have read at 2am or 4.30am either.  
She wandered out into the kitchen to drown her grotty self in a glass of water.   Three gulps later her charming husband, Bad Dan, said, “What happened to your hair? It looks like a dog’s breakfast.”
I shouldn’t have come into the kitchen before I went to the bathroom.
The phone rang. Their Accountant’s cheerful voice chirped down the phone, “How are you coming along with that book number count?”
Caffeine Kate grabbed a cup of three-spoon-sugared coffee and waited for the ‘busy-busy’ rush to kick in.
I shouldn’t have had coffee so early. I’m trying to keep it down to two a day. The sun shone. The birds sang. The bees buzzed. Bad Dan retreated to the garage while Kate madly re-counted her unsold books over a cup of coffee.
I shouldn’t be drinking this coffee with the bench still covered in dirty dishes.
Kate put the plug and the detergent in the sink, turned on the taps and hurried down to the bedroom to get her empty, middle of the night, teacup by her bed. There she found her scribbled list of book numbers, lying on the floor. She picked them up and decided she had better check her midnight work. Seconds later she drifted through the kitchen door … stopped; and screamed for Bad Dan. Sudsy water streamed out of the overflowing sink, over the bench, down the cupboard doors, into the cupboards and all over the kitchen floor. 
I shouldn’t have left the taps on! Pull the plug, Kate! Grab towels! Big towels!  An hour and a half later, cupboards bare and contents washed, Caffeine Kate and Bad Dan sat in the lounge drinking another cup of coffee while they wondered why everything had turned so bad.
“Think I’ll go fishing!” Bad Dan muttered.
I shouldn’t have kept reading that old Dick Francis ‘Rat Race’ mystery until three in the morning. I shouldn’t have got out of bed today! I shouldn’t have drunk so much coffee! I shouldn’t be talking to myself …

This is Jean ‘Angel’ Allen hoping you enjoyed that book you read too late last night.  

With apologies from Officer in Charge who forgot to post this on Friday. Must need more sleep myself!

Barbara Algie definitely has "IT"!

Are you sitting waiting for ‘it’ now – like me? Will ‘it’ eventually arrive? What are you going to do if ‘it’ never turns up? ‘It’s is such an ephemeral thing ‘it’ sometimes comes out of the blue but quickly turns to despondency if ‘it’ never eventuates.

All of us spend a lot of our time, maybe even years, waiting for ‘it’ to strike. If and when ‘it’ does you’re usually away laughing. So try to be ready for ‘it’. Make sure you have pad and pencil in your bag, or pocket, when you go shopping for ‘it’ is everywhere. Frazzled mothers are coping with even more frazzled children whilst at the other end of the scale elderly couples are coping with what they have left of their twilight years. Rita Hayworth of the Silver Screen was once known as the ‘IT GIRL’ along with Betty Grable and Clara Bow, but because not everyone is blessed with their sexy vital statistics all this proves is there are a number of very different kinds of ‘it’.

Acquiring ‘it’ is easy – using ‘it’ is the hard part. Keep a pad and pencil beside your bed, for I’ve known people wake from a deep sleep and shout ‘That’s ‘it!’ in the middle of the night.

Mostly they decide it’s not worth risking chilblains by padding round the house in bare feet so by morning ‘it’s’ gone.

‘It’ could be any number of fanciful things, from the lyrics of a song that will top the charts, to that close friend whose name you couldn’t remember a week ago.

According to the English Encyclopedic Dictionary ‘it’ may be a range of things from ‘communication of ideas’ to ‘breathing/rapture/enthusiasm/genius’ and, finally, ‘poetical conceptions of a supernatural source’ - now that’s more like it. What is ‘it?’ INSPIRATION!!!

Being a lark I rise early and sit hoping, hoping whilst the owls of this world burn the midnight oil searching, ever searching. So sit down in front of your computer and type the first thing that comes into your mind – you never know ‘it’ could be the first chapter of the rest of your life. They do say ‘Use it or lose it’ – your choice.’

Cheers
Barbara Algie