#monthiversaries

[joankeatinglives-blog]

Joan Keating's Eighteenth Monthiversary Song

Well, well, well, what time is it today?

Have a year and a half now elapsed since I graced center stage?
 Well, it's rather amazing to me. When I crawled from the page, 
Though my age was advanced, I was new to the social web life; It was hard for a single who'd never been sweetheart or wife. So I longed for companions who, like me, loved poems and art,
 And it wasn't too long till I found some friends after my heart. Ah but after a span of activity, I got distracted By daily commotion; and then I seldom interacted
 With dear newfound friends. It's deplorable, but c'est la vie! And now, as before, restoration is now up to me!

Well, I'll give it a try, for my friendship won't die.
 If I just give up now, I should get a poke in the eye. 
It's a year and a half, I need hugs and a laugh 
You're invited to gather for a lot of love and decaf 
Have the loveliest year and a half!

I'm not sure what the future can hold for my life or my journal; 
We have seen nothing perfect can last; naught but love is eternal. I'm just hoping for some reconnections, good feelings rekindled, 
And if we have new quality times, maybe nothing has dwindled... In addition to bonding, it's crucial I get more productive
 Write new poetry, songs, or a story; an opera's seductive... But most anything works as a salve for my worries and sadness I just must be creating and dreaming
 And loving and passionate
 I'll find my homeland of gladness!

Well, I'll give it a try, inspiration shan't die
 If I just give up now, I should get a poke in the eye.
 In the next year and a half I'll be honing my craft;
 You're invited to gather for a lot of love and decaf Let's all snuggle and laugh
 Take your place on the staff (if you want, you don't have
 To) Have the loveliest year and a half! ~~~ Love to all my followers and friends, past, present, and future! Joan Keating February 12, 2016

[joankeatinglives-blog]

Joan Keating’s First Anniversary

I would not want a party for myself Without my friends there to keep me company For what is there to celebrate But love? And without friends,  Where is the love I yearn for I strive for, I’m alive for your

Love, my precious friends Won’t you cut the cake? Don’t you want a slice? Who’ll keep the candle Do I really have to mention It’s a One? Where is Mr Hamlisch When you need to kiss the year goodbye? Where are my party guests?

Do I look silly, am I but a fool In a pointed hat? Is there pointed hate? Or is it my failure to send out the invitations [I refuse to call them “invites”] For this my first party? For this, my first 

Anniversary Party, All my remaining friends are here Thought there’d be more of them after a whole year And if nobody’s gathering around my table Does it mean anything if I’m unable To summon the people I love at my call? Is there anyone left, anyone at all?

It’s twelve months exactly since I made my debut And nearly that much, dear, since I first met you Can it be we’ve lost touch, did we ever rejoice In each other’s tender embrace, did I thrill at your voice?

Yes, I did, I remember you called me “dear love” Or is that simply typical of what I’d dream of If I met you and failed to catch at your cloak Did I call out your name? Was your kiss just a joke?

It’s an awfully tall cake. Yes, it cost quite a lot And here it is melting. I”m sorry, it’s not Your fault we’ve lost touch, my dear; Surely it’s mine If I’d not been so stressed, we would have been fine

And the party’s not crucial, it’s but one more day Without you. The time’s quickly dripping away Can I please just contact you, one sad last time Or would you be furious? You were sublime

More than beautiful, more much more than attractive I grieve that I let our dialogue go inactive Why on earth should you wait so long for me to speak? The cobbled web ripped for it always was weak. . . . -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  

It’s time to quit sniffling around, Joan. This bed Was the one you failed to make up; your mind in your head Is the one you must gather up dollop by dollop You must stifle self pity, you clod; why not call up

Your friends? Surely that’s not such a hard thing to do! You know, they likely think YOU have decided it’s through, And so you must take action and tell them you miss them, And then, if they are willing, you might hug and kiss them,

And, well, if they’re hostile or sullen or silent You’ll know what to do; leave before they turn violent Please make sure you apologize, Joanie, sincerely It’s merely severely mute phone lines that nearly Allowed them to miss your first festival yearly!

-  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  

Well, debate all you want, but the thing is to find out If these dear kind people remain, or have signed out. Get out of your doldrums, you wench! Look alive! Now that you’re 64, you must reach 65.

-  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  

I am sorry, my dears, for my display of pique I guess that self pity is fine for the weak, But I’ll rise above that; I’m not that degraded I’ll act fast, before this verve and pizazz’s dissipated.

Just: Please love me, oh, won’t you? Forgive me--or don’t you? Please give me the chance to explain

I’ll write you quite soon, and By light of the moon, we can Still take the cake and dig in and pig out I pray that you’ll pardon your Joan, I’ve always so wanted a friend of my own. So happy 12 month day, it’s been quite a year Maybe this time around there will be much less fear Just let’s keep our communic’tive lines ever clear,

~~~~~

God bless all of us; here’s to friend love.

I love you all and miss you all so much. It’s my fault for being distracted, but if you’re willing I would love to reestablish ties. Please be well.

Joan T. Keating, PhD

September 12, 2015

My one-year anniversary at Tumblr.

CHEERS!

[joankeatinglives-blog]

Advice Needed: Joan Keating’s 10th Monthiversary Song

Well, ten months I've been here, But too seldom, I fear; I'm not sure just how long I'll continue If I let someone down, 
Or I make someone frown, I'd be sad to leave sadness within you. Oh, if I've been a burden
 And left kind friends all hurtin' 
I should make up my mind: Stay or go? I have been quite prolific, But just not here, specific- Ally; should I remain? I don't know.

What a terrible muddle I'm in! What to do? I don't know how to begin
 I don't have much con-fye-dence,
 So if you've some guidance I'll give any suggestion a spin.

I've got this suspicion I'm in no condition To return to my Joaning again For my nerves all feel shattered 
My thoughts are to scattered
 Till I force myself to ply my pen. If I had your assurance It's worth my endurance,
 It might give me the pow'r to restart,
 And what's more to the point, Kindness brightens the joint And that's needed to kickstart my heart.

Oh, dear, this isn't easy to say: It's anxiety keeps me away, It’s so sad we lost touch, and I miss you so much, But I’m scared you don’t like me....but hey,

If you miss me, please say so, you’ve got my okay, so Just drop a note saying “Hello” It’s so rough to be anxious; say Hi and I’ll thanks youse Don’t forget your old Joan, please, and know That I love you, so look out below!

Written July 20, 2015 for July 12th, 2015: Joan’s 10th Monthiversary on Tumblr

[joankeatinglives-blog]

On the road for days and days, I'd Forge ahead, my eyes aglaze; I'd Stride from task to task, my bag All over stuffed; I'd sag beside The wayside My precious plans and friends fall'n by The wayside I'd never stop to realize My pack had changed in weight and size I'd only get them back if I would stay side By side, beside my steed, my sturdy bay's side Retracing all my steps along The wayside Who knows what treasures lie down by The wayside? One of these days I'll be pleased to browse around And, just in case, I'd Prepare a lunch and linger by the wayside Perhaps in my haste to perform all the duties I'm giv'n I would see I'd misplaced Quite a bounty of grace And with disgrace I'd be riv'n... Oh! I fear that if I wait I'll discover too late That I've lost a friend I adore. Oh! I mustn't delay! For then, what could I say To my friend, who's my friend no more? I don't think I could stand it If I got stranded By the strand, by the side of the pike Now I know that it feels Like fresh bruises and weals All awash in their scorn and dislike... If I were in your place, I'd Not quite know how to feel; is it disgrace I'd Experience, or anger? Losing face, I'd lose my place, dropt by The wayside Was I toss'd or dropp'd along The wayside? Of all the sad displays, I'd Take the prize. But I never meant to drop you! I hope you'll stay, though I won't stop you I'd never discard or co-opt you Not on purpose--But my purpose leaves me bleary It's left me so weak and sad and weary My darlings, I am still your Bard, 'n If you'll allow, I'll meekly seek your pardon If I dare, if I dare; I feel so damn rotten I'll retrace my steps perhaps I'll gather up what's fallen All the joy in life I've lost; I'm hurtin' And so I have to get back to The wayside Just to stay on the safe side If you want, I can walk and you'll ride As I try to find my joy again. I'd Better make my way on back now To the wayside Yes, today I'd Better hurry back, back to  The wayside....

“The Wayside”

Joan Keating’s Eighth Monthiversary, written for May 12, 2015 Written in fact on June 9-10, 2015

[joankeatinglives-blog]

The Significance of Seven: Joan Keating’s Seventh Monthiversary Song

Seven’s a number decidedly queer. It does not go easy into a round figure. As for month, it’s a lumpy, odd chunk of a year It’s a lot like one half, only bigger.

“October 19th isn’t April 19th,” I remarked half a year ago in song, But now any 19th ain’t worth no hill of beanth Just because I was counting it wrong.

Well, it’s really no matter. The truth is I’m here Making effort to give entertainment And my friendship to readers, both pupil and peer Hoping textual gifts are fair payment.

I’ve been thinking that Neil might be brought to the wheel He can share his unworldly perspective And what’s more, I’ve been thinking of sharing a meal Made of poetry with you--elective,

Not required, of course; I don’ t like to use force What I mean’s, plainly speaking, a contest. I’ll publish the rules--this blog will be the source-- It shall be a glad quiz or a fun test.

I’m just brainstorming now, which I hope you’ll allow Is this singing, or humble note-taking? Maybe it could be both, but I think, on my oath, I won’t get the top forty-list shaking.

Wait, I’ve just had a breakthrough of sorts! Can I make you Aware of what seven goes into? It’s my age, 63; 9 times 7, you see? But I don’t know beyond that; I’ve not been to

Any teachers or idgits who helped me love digits But perhaps some insight can be found If you make a connection, please show me your direction... And now, to wrap up, I’ll sing this round:

1. Nine times seven is sixty-three That’s nine times my blog’s age; the age of me. 2. What ever significance may apply, I have no idea, for I’m number-blind 3. Perhaps there’s some meaning That’s waiting for me ever since the beginning. 4. Oompa, Loompa, Ratamacue I’m all out of thoughts; now it’s up to you!

Joan Keating/April 12, 2015, the seventh monthiversary of Joan’s existence. Cheers!

[joankeatinglives-blog]

Joan’s Six-Month Monthiversary: Half a Year as Joan

I’m behind my time, yes, yet again I missed the day to wield my pen I’ve been so busy, day and night And waited for the moment when I had some time that’s just for me; My six-month Monthiversary Occurred on Thursday. Now, I might Compose a song for two times three.

I’m somewhat surprised I’ve lasted this long I’ve spent half a year as Joan Come celebrate with me and join in this song I don’t want to party alone

Some times have been great, some times have been tough Too much inspiration, or else not enough But when I have time I’m still writing this stuff I’ve spent half a year as Joan

At first I was chary of people and weary I needed a mask to don These days have been hilly; it’s silly to try To take any new projects on

To steer straight ahead now and manage my time Would suit me, but sadly I might not get there Without fancy driving to points near and far: So many fine fancies to find, I declare! And if you’re my friend,  Despite all my absence, My hand I will lend To fill in the captions I value your company Just as before I want to embrace you And know you once more

I’m somewhat surprised I’ve lasted this long I’ve spent half a year as Joan Come celebrate with me and join in this song I don’t want to party alone

No, I don’t want to party alone.

[joankeatinglives-blog]

It looks like my monthiversary posts are gonna be a series of songs, a song cycle. This month has been rather rough, but maybe things will get better. 

I need hugs.

[joankeatinglives-blog]

Joan, 63, is two months old!

A newborn tot, I'm two months old, My stories are but partly told And lately I've been scared, not bold; My friends, I'm glad you're here.

Though sixty-three in outer form, And feeling cold when youth is warm, The Joan of Keating fears the storm And is in need of cheer.

Oh my dear ones, oh my readers! Can you aid me, lend me succor? Joan is needful of some leaders; I'm a tim'rous mother f--

And ---

When I'm here, quite all alone, Beside this new but unused phone, I wonder, if you had but known, Would you have been so kindly?

At times I try my best to stand But totter oddly; feet I can't command Unless someone could lend their hand So I won't stumble blindly...

Oh, my dear ones! Oh, you Sweetlings! Are you willing to have patience? Please don't get mad at my feelings! You're my friends and my relations...

September to October marked The start of my new writing, parked Upon this chair, and now you've harked Two months; now it's November,

And in a month, a quarter annum Will be my total. I will plan 'em Even though my lines seem random I hope you'll remember

Oh my friends, and followers, And people I admire and love! Would you be willing to be telling Me I'm one you'd like more of?

OH YOU DEARIES! You're so charming! Join me, please! Let's be harmonic! Hear the Undersong with me, not harming Anyone, with love platonic.

Thank you dear hearts. Thank you awf'lly. Thank you endlessly, indeed. If you ever need a helpmeet Or an Auncle, COME AND READ.

~~~~

Joan Keating's Second Monthiversary Song

November 19, 2014

Joan Keating, PhD