Tuesday, September 7, 2021

Shared Moments

not-quite Journaling, 19

the poetry:

Comfort is playing hooky (again): my left arm is swollen, my right shoulder blade is throbbing, too many nerves in my back are pinching, and the constellation of itchy blotches that is my skin suggests my immune system is finding foes where there are none and insisting on fighting them all.

Nature is feeling stormy (again): my car drowned, fluid filth pressured my garage door until it popped, and the whole place smells like some swamp creature’s soiled socks.

Joy is a tiny seed: it can be planted in soul and soil, it grows in my lover’s arms, it spreads through shared moments and random laughter and caring hearts (like yours).

the delight hearts feel
when love smiles

and the inspiration:

8/15/2021: Yesterday was my Piano Man’s 52nd birthday. We (and more importantly he, being the birthday boy and all) had a perfect day. Today, when I was going through my phone in search of pictures of his birthday menu (Mexican omelet and Turkish coffee for breakfast, baby back ribs and tostones for dinner), I realized that I hadn’t taken any pictures of the food. But I did remember to capture his first-day-as-a-52-year-old smile (right after he told me how much he enjoyed his birthday fun). Like I said, we had a perfect day.

: I grew four sunflower plants this year. They came in the same bag and from the same grower. All the blooms look slightly different (and totally stunning).

9/2/2021: Our garage flooded. Our car drowned. But we’re well. And the sun is shining bright. So, life is good.

9/7/2021: We went on a lovely walk… We saw wild life doing necessarily wild things. And all that talk about me ogling my Piano Man’s rear is pure calumny *cough* 👀 

-  for Poets and Storytellers United--Weekly Scribblings #86: Mining the Journals,
where we are asked to “create a poem or story from a journal entry (or several).”


  1. You do realise you are doing a great service for others? We read of your trials and instead of complaining about our own, we suddenly feel like counting our blessings. (Whaddya ya mean, that's no great consolation to you?)

    Seriously, I'm glad you can find that tiny seed of joy, and nourish it, and remind the rest of us about it too. Long live you and your Piano Man, and may we all find reason to smile!

  2. Happy Birthday Piano Man. Magaly is a very lucky lady scoring looks as well as talent.Magaly, you will probably now be inondated with requests for duets with your piano man by pianistes. Take my advice...don't accept any under the age of 80...Lovely poem. Glad you are both OK

  3. WHAT FLOOD????? We haven't heard about this? Was it to do with Ida? We were told it hit Louisiana but after that nada. But oh the stories it must have fed your wicked mind as you watched for old ladies on bicycles pedalling frantically...if you had time with that cute guy smiling at you daily XXX

  4. Enjoyable visit, MG; I esp liked the opening haibun, Haibunilicious!

  5. You amaze me. Three words, a simple declaration. Sending you warm, healing, loving energy for today ~~ and every day thereafter.


  6. Only you, Magaly, could serve up a litany of flood and smelly garage and yet end your post with tales of seeds and sunshine, happy birthday for your handsome Piano Man, and a walk enjoying nature! You are so special!

  7. Happy Birthday to your PianoMan.
    Continue to cultivate tiny seeds of hope and joy in your life Magaly.


  8. That's a bummer about the flooded garage! Is your car salvageable? And Happy Birthday to your Piano Man!

  9. Playing alongside the one you love makes for the most joyful seeds, especially when there's fertilizer as far as the eye can see. Sorry about your car. I'll hold a moment of silence in his honor.

  10. Birthday wishes to your Piano Man! Love the celebratory tone of your post, despite health and flooding woes. May life continue to be good!

  11. Your Piano Man has a special place in the journal writer's heart, yours. I loved reading about "the shoulder blade (is) throbbing", that must be very worrisome. Happy birthday late, P.M.
    I guess if my wife would write about my BDays, most years she would be telling of me talking of running away. Some years I do but she always comes with me. In 1970 we came to NYC, our daughter was running the NYC Marathon. We rode the subways from Times Square to five different locations, each time we were waiting to wave her on. The 5th stop was in Harlem, I will never forget the ladies standing on the church steps singing to cheer the runners on. Then we walked over to Central Park where the finish line was.
    The day before we rode the fairy to the Statue of Liberty, then walked back from Battery Park to Grand Central Station for my birthday dinner underground. The day when we were back was a stress test for me. The para med monitoring the test stopped it before I was to finish and said that I should see her cardiologist. And the doctor called me the next morning waking me up, saying that he had an appointment for me later in the day. That likely was the beginning of my end, like my SIL who died today of a heart attack. But the next day was Halloween and we walked then also, over to Greenwich Village to watch the evening parade.
    Sorry for the TMI, but that should be in my journal also.


I love your insightful remarks. So, go ahead, let them fly…