Have those lips been kissed?

Twice recently, I have received a bag or a box of memorabilia, mostly related to my father.  It has been wonderful either seeing pictures that I have never seen before or reliving old memories.

But it has also made me sad.  When my mom remarried and sold the house in which my sister and I grew up, I was in the midst of a depression.  We were cleaning out our childhood rooms and going through 25 years of accumulated detritus.  Since I was depressed, I had no sense of sentimentality, at all.  I threw away most of the keepsakes of my youth — pictures, yearbooks, awards.  I wish that I had kept all that stuff.

One thing that I DID keep was a poem.  It was written by Jim Maloney.  We went to school together from elementary school through high school graduation.

Jim may have written this to be satirical (I was often the butt of teasing because of my goody-two-shoes mentality, but my mother had me convinced that anything beyond chaste kissing would result in the total ruin of the rest of my life — no job, no husband, no family, no income — life in the street, living for handouts), but I have hung on to it, choosing instead to think of it as my own personal ode.

Jim–I thank you.  This poem brings a smile to my face, 25 years later.

Have Those Lips Been Kissed

Have Those Lips Been Kissed

Have Those Lips Yet Been Kissed?

Cristy, of extreme beauty and grace,

even more than the goddess of beauty in face,

And the body fair, as a swan in flight.

The subject of many a dream at night.

Upon thinking, one most wonder.

When dreaming, one must ponder.

Have those lips yet been kissed?

Have young men in their velvet prime missed?

One could fight for thee with sword or fist.

For have those lips yet been kissed?

Cristy, of wonderful beauty and charm,

Could any one dare to do thee harm?

The vilest evil, the coldest heart,

Not one could damage, not even start.

When thinking, one most wonder.

Upon dreaming, one must ponder.

Young men would kill for just one kiss.

And when you’re gone the world will miss.

And one would fight with sword or fist.

And kill one another for just one kiss.

–Jim Maloney

2012 — In limerick form

Happy New Year!  One year down and another one to come.  Just like clockwork.  Or the seasons.  Or the calendar.

I have reviewed mine and Matt’s year and I have written a limerick about it.  And presented it in a pictorial (click on the first picture to start the slide show).

There once was a couple from Statesville
Whose 2012 was a year full of thrills
From Dublin to torn rotator cuffs
And dog bites to camping in the rough
The goal for ’13 is no emergency room bills

Happy New Year to you and yours!

Headache Central

I have had a headache for the past four days.  When I have one that lasts more than a day, I am exhausted when it finally goes away, and (dare I say) a bit fearful of it coming back again.  Eventually, I begin to feel like myself again, even though I know that another one is inevitably around the corner.

This is what I feel I look like when I have a headache.  I think that we can all agree that it is a good thing that this isn’t reality.

Feels like my head is twisting itself

Several months ago, I was inspired by my headache to write this poem.  It’s not much, but I thought I would save it rather than trash it.


Lights are flashing
Hands are shaking
Who lives in my head?
Please stop partying!
Turn down the music and quit jumping on the floor!
Don’t you have to work?
I can’t believe my mind tenant is so lazy
Here’s the deal:  I’ve sent your resume to some employers
You have to move
I’m evicting you
I’m THE landlord of my head and I want you gone
And I’m keeping the security deposit for punching holes in my walls