February 7, 2014

What lies beneath the plight of those weaving their magic in the halls of Ivy League


The Plush ivy Petals on those Plighting the Palace of Penn
bring a special sort of Prose to my Puckered up Pout
Poets and Pioneers of impossible cures
Plough through the Pias with Pints and Pianos
"keep your day job, but don't give up the dream"says the Scott Scientist, with his Shiny Silken Kilt and his wee Lilt,
strumming his Strings of Savvy with Sincerity and Solace
full of heart, Song and Shining Sentiments brought Spirit to a Sit down with Serious faces, which yielded stories of Sorrow, but ended in Success



2/7/14 I'm marking this day, with my first identified prose in print, as a dedicated thanks to Andrew McGhie, who has invited me to the group at The Kelly Writer's House.
Upon my arrival to Philadelphia, this house called to me.
Perhaps being named Kelly at birth, by my late father, insighted the calling. (At age two I obnoxiously demanded, "no me Sarah," in order to change my name to Sarah Kelly.)

2/12/14
After attending the first meeting, I realize I've joined a group of legends in a house filled with glorious history.

How the invite came to be below:

2/7/14
Thank you Drew, for showing me the softer side of Laboratory Research, and the Structure of hard and soft Matter.
Reading from the poetry inspired by your train ride home, which could no doubt grace the pages of that where Shakespeare resides, empowered me to pass a hugely intensive clinical research study audit, with ACRIN, the leader in optical imaging.

Mary, the auditor, a love of a lady was reminiscent of Mrs. Doubtfire.
We hugged and kissed at the conclusion of the three day audit (as I envisioned you strumming your guitar and sipping pints at the local pub.)

We dug into every dot on every "i", and every cross on every "t."
We scowered the medical records language of those who continue to suffer with this greedy disease.
We contacted one of the breast cancer survivors, who had been in our study,
requesting further information, she had just left the hospital moments before,
still getting treatments years later, as the disease has spread.

Mary's eyes filled with tears while sharing stories of her sister who'd lost one of her children. Her other sister, she lost to breast cancer, it claimed her life at 45.
This was the sour grape, which brought her into breast cancer research and she continues to race for the cure.



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4 comments

  1. Prose poetry is best for those
    For whom a stream of consciousness flows
    It's clear that Sarah's such a one
    From the poem above which gave her fun
    To write and let her inner self
    Dictate the words from this running elf
    Alliteration seems to be
    Inspiration for such as she
    At least, in this, her daily blog
    That leave each and every one agog
    We trust that she will keep it up
    And never, ever, ever stop

    ReplyDelete
  2. So much agog!
    Makes relationships tough, let me tell you.
    I used the word plight far too many times,
    such as I might if I let the inner self win me with fight.
    I've changed one of those "plights" to piano considering you please many with the musical note.
    Thanks for the comment! I rarely get them. I didn't realize what I was doing was prose...

    ReplyDelete
  3. I'm going to work on rhyming
    Much more pleasing
    Opens the ears to be tantalizing

    ReplyDelete
  4. I'm rhyming, I wrote this by accident today, 'I'm convinced our light is bigger than the parasite. Meditation as a cure, is something I explore.'

    ReplyDelete

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