My Hope Pantry

[DeParkiePoet]

My hope pantry speaks too softly for me to hear, anymore

I am empty, uninspired

There is nothing left

I am void of positive words, good feelings

And I fight for normalcy every moment of every day.

But there is no relaxation or joy

as I twist and torque my way through this uncomfortable life

Optimism a distant memory, jealous I am of the people who can sleep

They say "but it is not life threatening"

Whose life is it anyway?

Yet I am courageous, I am? right?

You don't want to read my griping

I don't want to hear your sniping

I am a joy forever as your seperate life goes on

There are days when I stink at golf, there are days when I can't play guitar.

But never are there days when you bastard PD doesn't depress the me I am today

I cannot breathe, speak or sit still

I am frozen in a wet blanket. Shatter it you say...

Express yourself, as loud as possible

Scream, NO SCREAM!!!!!! louder....NO LOUDER

Give me my last straw of hope

to float into this future of running on empty,

please I need it now

Hope Junkie that I am

Don't give up

my loved ones plead

try to meet our need

for a hope pantry filled

once again.

[wordworks2001]

I'M MAD AS HELL AND I'M GONNA TAKE IT FOR A LITTLE WHILE MORE!!

[DeParkiePoet in reply to wordworks2001]

YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[tlongmire in reply to wordworks2001]

Me too!

[jillannf6]

hi

good on yer wordworks2001! nand plz parkie poet dont give up = your poetry is great!

ll JILL

;-0

[DeParkiePoet in reply to jillannf6]

Thank you Jillian, I won't. I express my frustrations with words. Sometimes, though I lose my thoughts, is it old age? PD? depression?

But I'll never give in...

OH good on yer too love!

[Court]

Don't give up, please. There is always a small something to egg you on. Easy to say, I know when I am not in your shoes. But life is precious and somehow we all cling on to it. I don't always know how or why, but we do.

[DeParkiePoet in reply to Court]

So true. I've had worse days and better. Thank you

[Johnsilk]

You have described my day Monday, 2 falls getting out of bunkers and topped it off with an air swing.

Didn't enjoy it at all and to top it off got a heat rash on one leg..

Came home opened my emails and all hell had broken out on a charity event that I am involved with.

I am not a poet but the following piece of rhyme was my best solution.

I went outside and recited the following at the top of my voice (not very loud as PD is limiting my volume as my meds wear off)

WHEN YOUR DOWN AND OUT LIFT UP YOUR HEAD AND SHOUT

'OH SHIT'

[DeParkiePoet in reply to Johnsilk]

John: At least you can shout quietly...and you did get out of those bunkers, no?

Keep on keeping on John...

Mr Smooth as Silk!

[Court in reply to Johnsilk]

Maybe we could get some extra publicity for Parkinsons. We should all go outside and shout this or something similar at the same time. Have to take into account different time zones, of course. I am going to give it a go myself.

[DeParkiePoet in reply to Court]

I'm up for that!!

11am to 2 pm eastern standard time on 11-11-12?

We should all go outside and yell something such as

"SCREW YOU Parkinsons, you don't own my life!!!! I DO!!!"

[Court in reply to DeParkiePoet]

Would be great. Sure a lot of people would be up for it. Have to all get our thinking caps on.

[DeParkiePoet]

Some days I scream

some days I dream

There are days when I want to live life as fully as possible

and days I die inside

when I can't find myself to hide myself

I still love you, I still work out I still sit still

Until tomorrow

who will I be?

[tlongmire in reply to DeParkiePoet]

Very nice.

[Johnsilk]

I will be in it if you will extend tim e to3pm that will be 7am on the 12th for me in Australia.

John