DellaMetcalf
Hi! My name is Della, I'm a nurse who loves to write. People, nature and life as it is inspires.
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We are a literary agency seeking fresh talent. In 200 words or more, demonstrate your writing talent. We will be in touch with any and all promising participants throughout the rest of this quarter.
Written by DellaMetcalf in portal Publishing

Chocolate and Troy

My hand is still a little sore from cutting the bed sheet in half as Jeffrey hung from the door hinge in the hall yesterday. I hope the boss doesn't bitch about any of the paperwork. It's been said Jeffrey has "sugar in his tank." He is one of the many manipulative narcissistic, borderline, passive aggressive types we deal with every day. 

Reviewing the tape gave the security guys a good laugh. Stealing a laugh from tragedy helps us stay sane at the forensic locked unit full of half witted inmates hoping to avoid real jail time. They've been deemed incompetent to stand trial, so we get them for a month or three.

Some of the staff are just like Jeffrey simply wearing different clothes as they sit inside the nurses' station with its locked doors and curved impenetrable glass windows.

Me, I like to be out of the nurses' station around the inmates. I hope their lives aren't doomed. I know their charges aren't heinous, hell I've done most everything they got caught doing. It could be true the thought, "only the stupid ones get caught." Being bipolar and/or psychotic can't help either. They're young and still have a chance. I love to bring out their talents and motivate them.

I'm off today after three twelve hour shifts and I'm exhausted. I slept through a tornado last night. Tree trunks and limbs are all over the yard. I feel guilty I didn't hear moms calls for me. Her bedroom is downstairs cluttered with elderly support paraphernalia. She is short of breath holding her walker, headed for the lift recliner. Her pajamas hanging as she has lost weight, her brows bent under mussed up grey hair. She is angry at the sitters, the "necklace," the bad foot and the oxygen tubing. She is angry about her fading balance, the itching skin rash and her fleeting mind.

"You call them and have them pick that box up!" It yelled 'power off' all night long!" She sits in the recliner, frustrated the buttons don't work while the power is out.

I light the kerosene heater. I agree with her. I apologize for not hearing her call for me. I light the lantern and prepare her pills.

"Mom, let me rub lotion on your skin."

"My nurse is back." Her voice has softened. She emanates gratefulness.

"Yup!"

She falls asleep. 

Tears roll down my cheeks. I wipe my face and neck in lonely silence.

It's time to eat some chocolate and text my brother, Troy.

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We are a literary agency seeking fresh talent. In 200 words or more, demonstrate your writing talent. We will be in touch with any and all promising participants throughout the rest of this quarter.
Written by DellaMetcalf in portal Publishing
Chocolate and Troy
My hand is still a little sore from cutting the bed sheet in half as Jeffrey hung from the door hinge in the hall yesterday. I hope the boss doesn't bitch about any of the paperwork. It's been said Jeffrey has "sugar in his tank." He is one of the many manipulative narcissistic, borderline, passive aggressive types we deal with every day. 

Reviewing the tape gave the security guys a good laugh. Stealing a laugh from tragedy helps us stay sane at the forensic locked unit full of half witted inmates hoping to avoid real jail time. They've been deemed incompetent to stand trial, so we get them for a month or three.
Some of the staff are just like Jeffrey simply wearing different clothes as they sit inside the nurses' station with its locked doors and curved impenetrable glass windows.

Me, I like to be out of the nurses' station around the inmates. I hope their lives aren't doomed. I know their charges aren't heinous, hell I've done most everything they got caught doing. It could be true the thought, "only the stupid ones get caught." Being bipolar and/or psychotic can't help either. They're young and still have a chance. I love to bring out their talents and motivate them.

I'm off today after three twelve hour shifts and I'm exhausted. I slept through a tornado last night. Tree trunks and limbs are all over the yard. I feel guilty I didn't hear moms calls for me. Her bedroom is downstairs cluttered with elderly support paraphernalia. She is short of breath holding her walker, headed for the lift recliner. Her pajamas hanging as she has lost weight, her brows bent under mussed up grey hair. She is angry at the sitters, the "necklace," the bad foot and the oxygen tubing. She is angry about her fading balance, the itching skin rash and her fleeting mind.
"You call them and have them pick that box up!" It yelled 'power off' all night long!" She sits in the recliner, frustrated the buttons don't work while the power is out.
I light the kerosene heater. I agree with her. I apologize for not hearing her call for me. I light the lantern and prepare her pills.
"Mom, let me rub lotion on your skin."
"My nurse is back." Her voice has softened. She emanates gratefulness.
"Yup!"
She falls asleep. 
Tears roll down my cheeks. I wipe my face and neck in lonely silence.
It's time to eat some chocolate and text my brother, Troy.
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Written by DellaMetcalf

Symptom of Love

He couldn't talk he was reserved

His past taught him no say a word

So shy and scared to talk to me

A pimple, he was fat you see

But I sat on that bench outside

And my big mouth was open wide

I told him of the fun to swim

In waters where even he had been

He cracked a smile, I was a jester

So shy he wondered why I'd pester

Him to talk about a swim

Why was I concerned with him

He opened up and shyly said

Thank you for talking to my head

Take note of those who are so scared

To talk, they thought that no one cared

Go ahead and break the ice

God loves the people who are nice

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Written by DellaMetcalf
Symptom of Love
He couldn't talk he was reserved
His past taught him no say a word
So shy and scared to talk to me
A pimple, he was fat you see
But I sat on that bench outside
And my big mouth was open wide
I told him of the fun to swim
In waters where even he had been
He cracked a smile, I was a jester
So shy he wondered why I'd pester
Him to talk about a swim
Why was I concerned with him
He opened up and shyly said
Thank you for talking to my head
Take note of those who are so scared
To talk, they thought that no one cared
Go ahead and break the ice
God loves the people who are nice
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Written by DellaMetcalf

Garbage Man

The  garbage man comes by today

Making little noise

He'll take out the junk of life

Your heart has broken toys

I really love the garbage truck

The huge machine of steel

Two strong arms to lift the stuff

The Man sits at the wheel

There comes a time to throw it out

The garbage in our can

Shit that doesn't need to stay

Removed by Garbage Man

You will feel much better

As the big truck rolls away

He takes a hopeless letter

The stuff that cannot stay

It sounds to me the trash can's full

It cannot take more strife

His two arms strong as a bull

Take your trash and give you life

Give yourself a chance to live

No garbage up your nose

Happy you, your prose to give!

Now you can smell the rose.

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Written by DellaMetcalf
Garbage Man
The  garbage man comes by today
Making little noise
He'll take out the junk of life
Your heart has broken toys

I really love the garbage truck
The huge machine of steel
Two strong arms to lift the stuff
The Man sits at the wheel

There comes a time to throw it out
The garbage in our can
Shit that doesn't need to stay
Removed by Garbage Man

You will feel much better
As the big truck rolls away
He takes a hopeless letter
The stuff that cannot stay

It sounds to me the trash can's full
It cannot take more strife
His two arms strong as a bull
Take your trash and give you life

Give yourself a chance to live
No garbage up your nose
Happy you, your prose to give!
Now you can smell the rose.



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I'm enamored of short-form writing - micropoetry, flash fiction, etc. For this challenge, write an ultrashort story (150 words or fewer). It must have a beginning, a middle, and an end. I will do one, too. Tag me @ruffmiriam
Written by DellaMetcalf in portal Flash Fiction

Code Blue

"Code Blue ER, Code Blue ER" the overhead wailed Monday morning. I had the top drawer of the crash cart passing medications and I'd better get it right. The tiny girl of eight had been ran over by a driver near the school. This one was especially tough because of her age and trauma as we adjusted lung capacity, IV fluids and the depth of CPR. We tried our best to be cool and save this child's life as we shook inside. She was so white, unconscious and limp as her pupils began to dilate. Tearful cries and shear panic could be heard outside "trauma one" all the way to the waiting area. Tears and prayers flowed.

Forty minutes passed.

 "OK, get her to ICU"

She sits up in bed finishing off a Snickers bar brought by her loving visitors. She's allergic to peanuts. "Code Blue! Pediatrics! Code Blue!"

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I'm enamored of short-form writing - micropoetry, flash fiction, etc. For this challenge, write an ultrashort story (150 words or fewer). It must have a beginning, a middle, and an end. I will do one, too. Tag me @ruffmiriam
Written by DellaMetcalf in portal Flash Fiction
Code Blue
"Code Blue ER, Code Blue ER" the overhead wailed Monday morning. I had the top drawer of the crash cart passing medications and I'd better get it right. The tiny girl of eight had been ran over by a driver near the school. This one was especially tough because of her age and trauma as we adjusted lung capacity, IV fluids and the depth of CPR. We tried our best to be cool and save this child's life as we shook inside. She was so white, unconscious and limp as her pupils began to dilate. Tearful cries and shear panic could be heard outside "trauma one" all the way to the waiting area. Tears and prayers flowed.
Forty minutes passed.
 "OK, get her to ICU"
She sits up in bed finishing off a Snickers bar brought by her loving visitors. She's allergic to peanuts. "Code Blue! Pediatrics! Code Blue!"
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Written by DellaMetcalf

MM,MM,MM..

I love the sparkle in his eyes

When he tells us of the skies

His hair is neat, a touch of grey

While he describes the cloudy day

He talks so clear and bright

As he reports the day and night

I don't want to see him go

Monitor the tornado!

He is hot like summers' day

He's never cold a smile away

To the nines he dresses tight

Telling when to fly a kite

I have a crush on weatherman

I see him any chance I can

I wish he'd blow my weather horn

Ooh I'd show him a thunderstorm!

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Written by DellaMetcalf
MM,MM,MM..
I love the sparkle in his eyes
When he tells us of the skies
His hair is neat, a touch of grey
While he describes the cloudy day

He talks so clear and bright
As he reports the day and night
I don't want to see him go
Monitor the tornado!

He is hot like summers' day
He's never cold a smile away
To the nines he dresses tight
Telling when to fly a kite

I have a crush on weatherman
I see him any chance I can
I wish he'd blow my weather horn
Ooh I'd show him a thunderstorm!
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Written by DellaMetcalf

Empty Nest

It was about the end of May. I destroyed the beginnings of a nest the local birds were trying to build, mostly because of the bird debris. Those birds immediately began rebuilding it. I tore the twigs and mud down a second time. In less than a week, a bird's nest was established nestled in the corner ceiling raft of my second floor balcony at my apartment. I gave up trying to eliminate it. About a month later I heard the calls of baby birds. They would scream tiny screechy yells every time I would slide the glass doors open. I loved to sit out there, watch the clouds and clear my mind. I watched the mother and father birds come and go with food for the baby birds' open mouths. There were four babies. A week later there were only three and I wondered how that affected their family. The parents consistently arrived to feed, and I even found myself cleaning up the poo and regurgitated slop they all produced. I enjoyed them. I made a video of the babies' skinny necks and triangular beaks popping up and yelling. In July I realized they'd soon be ready to fly.

Tonight it's late July. I step out through the sliding glass door. I find the parent birds standing in the nest alone. They are still and quiet. Father bird covered the mother whose face was tucked in his wing.

I realized their life was not unlike my own. I had even played a role in creating difficulties for them. My children had gone their way and I too had an "empty nest".

I

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Written by DellaMetcalf
Empty Nest
It was about the end of May. I destroyed the beginnings of a nest the local birds were trying to build, mostly because of the bird debris. Those birds immediately began rebuilding it. I tore the twigs and mud down a second time. In less than a week, a bird's nest was established nestled in the corner ceiling raft of my second floor balcony at my apartment. I gave up trying to eliminate it. About a month later I heard the calls of baby birds. They would scream tiny screechy yells every time I would slide the glass doors open. I loved to sit out there, watch the clouds and clear my mind. I watched the mother and father birds come and go with food for the baby birds' open mouths. There were four babies. A week later there were only three and I wondered how that affected their family. The parents consistently arrived to feed, and I even found myself cleaning up the poo and regurgitated slop they all produced. I enjoyed them. I made a video of the babies' skinny necks and triangular beaks popping up and yelling. In July I realized they'd soon be ready to fly.
Tonight it's late July. I step out through the sliding glass door. I find the parent birds standing in the nest alone. They are still and quiet. Father bird covered the mother whose face was tucked in his wing.
I realized their life was not unlike my own. I had even played a role in creating difficulties for them. My children had gone their way and I too had an "empty nest".

I
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Written by DellaMetcalf

I Knew You Were Coming

Back in the day, I knew you were coming so, I created the heavens and the earth. I particularly used the terms, "back in the day," so that you can better understand the sense of time a "day"really is. I mean there was so much to do, it took longer than six twenty-four hour periods of time, but mind you, I could have done it like that! I do miracles. 

DAY ONE:  I had to see what I was doing. As it were, the recipe for earth was always around, but it was dark and void. The ingredients needed to be put together. I was quite proud of my creation, earth. I put a spin on it so it could propel itself closer to a warm bright sun. For thousands of years it traveled to get there. At the perfect time I installed gravity into the earth's core (so it could stay attracted to the sun and not run into it) and it began to circle the sun, rendering seasons. The first time the sun's light reached the earth was the first "day" and as it spun away, that was the first "night." I knew you were coming so I gave a moon to ensure a bit of the sun was reflected bringing the reassurance of a night light.

DAY TWO:  I knew you were coming so I prepared for you this clear, reflective, refreshing, flowing, conducting, beautiful water. It is a major component of the blood you would truly hear about later. Water follows gravity. It travels to the lowest places as it appears to be the least, it is the greatest. My beloved man would proportionately be made up of it. I separated it yet it is everywhere. Water is massive volumes of my oceans and microscopic in the air of an exhaled breath. I was joyfully pleased in the goodness of rain, my water in the sky, as it too follows gravity.

DAY THREE:  Any artist is a creator. I created artists. That being said, can you imagine how much fun it was to engineer the creation of land and plants? Part of it was just by moving some water. I saw that it was good! The plant form of life must have water. In a most unique way they illustrate beginnings and endings. The endings are catalysts to the beginnings of new life replicating and propagating each in their own time. I knew you were coming and would need to eat. You would need shelter, tools, medicine,  and to take little insightful "trips" to help you get to know me. You would also need oxygen (I plan ahead).

DAY FOUR:  Let's just say the moon helps you understand months. The sun helps you understand years. It gets even more detailed but let's not blow your mind.

DAY FIVE:  I knew you were coming. You would need the living souls around you in the air, under the sea and on the land nearest you. You would need companionship, bewilderment, similarity and amazement. You would need diverse food source and to learn from simply observing them.

DAY SIX:  As some of you know, I love you. So I gifted you with the most pleasing, remarkable surprise. Now how can you loose if I love you? I gave you dominion over all the stuff I made (except the weather). I prepared because I knew you were coming. I am God. I am beautiful. I thought it would be grand if you looked like me.

DAY SEVEN:  I took a nap because I could. I woke up feeling very well and rested. I felt so good I blessed the seventh day. A golden era! It is sanctified, say I.

This is too late for challenge "You are god.." But I wanted to share it! Luv!

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Written by DellaMetcalf
I Knew You Were Coming
Back in the day, I knew you were coming so, I created the heavens and the earth. I particularly used the terms, "back in the day," so that you can better understand the sense of time a "day"really is. I mean there was so much to do, it took longer than six twenty-four hour periods of time, but mind you, I could have done it like that! I do miracles. 

DAY ONE:  I had to see what I was doing. As it were, the recipe for earth was always around, but it was dark and void. The ingredients needed to be put together. I was quite proud of my creation, earth. I put a spin on it so it could propel itself closer to a warm bright sun. For thousands of years it traveled to get there. At the perfect time I installed gravity into the earth's core (so it could stay attracted to the sun and not run into it) and it began to circle the sun, rendering seasons. The first time the sun's light reached the earth was the first "day" and as it spun away, that was the first "night." I knew you were coming so I gave a moon to ensure a bit of the sun was reflected bringing the reassurance of a night light.

DAY TWO:  I knew you were coming so I prepared for you this clear, reflective, refreshing, flowing, conducting, beautiful water. It is a major component of the blood you would truly hear about later. Water follows gravity. It travels to the lowest places as it appears to be the least, it is the greatest. My beloved man would proportionately be made up of it. I separated it yet it is everywhere. Water is massive volumes of my oceans and microscopic in the air of an exhaled breath. I was joyfully pleased in the goodness of rain, my water in the sky, as it too follows gravity.

DAY THREE:  Any artist is a creator. I created artists. That being said, can you imagine how much fun it was to engineer the creation of land and plants? Part of it was just by moving some water. I saw that it was good! The plant form of life must have water. In a most unique way they illustrate beginnings and endings. The endings are catalysts to the beginnings of new life replicating and propagating each in their own time. I knew you were coming and would need to eat. You would need shelter, tools, medicine,  and to take little insightful "trips" to help you get to know me. You would also need oxygen (I plan ahead).

DAY FOUR:  Let's just say the moon helps you understand months. The sun helps you understand years. It gets even more detailed but let's not blow your mind.

DAY FIVE:  I knew you were coming. You would need the living souls around you in the air, under the sea and on the land nearest you. You would need companionship, bewilderment, similarity and amazement. You would need diverse food source and to learn from simply observing them.

DAY SIX:  As some of you know, I love you. So I gifted you with the most pleasing, remarkable surprise. Now how can you loose if I love you? I gave you dominion over all the stuff I made (except the weather). I prepared because I knew you were coming. I am God. I am beautiful. I thought it would be grand if you looked like me.

DAY SEVEN:  I took a nap because I could. I woke up feeling very well and rested. I felt so good I blessed the seventh day. A golden era! It is sanctified, say I.

This is too late for challenge "You are god.." But I wanted to share it! Luv!
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Written by DellaMetcalf

To You!

I hope you get a teddy bear

I hope your lover takes you there

I hope your chocolates have a guide

So you can figure what's inside

A card of pink and white

Gives your heart delight

"Will you be mine?

Be my Valentine!"

For those of us who are alone

May our friends throw us a bone

A text of 'Happy Valentine'

An imogi of heart and wine

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Written by DellaMetcalf
To You!
I hope you get a teddy bear
I hope your lover takes you there
I hope your chocolates have a guide
So you can figure what's inside
A card of pink and white
Gives your heart delight
"Will you be mine?
Be my Valentine!"
For those of us who are alone
May our friends throw us a bone
A text of 'Happy Valentine'
An imogi of heart and wine
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Written by DellaMetcalf

When Shit Hits the Fan

When you think you can't, you can

A fish survives great time on land

Sometimes we're superhuman

When motivation's bloomin'

The times we do the things unreal

Are evidence of how we feel

I'll throw the dresser to the wall

To keep my child from deadly fall

I'll stay awake in case you wake

With something you must say

Your confession you must make

I'll tell you it's ok

Superhuman strength of man

We hope it will kick in

When shit is hitting our life fan

A natural helping hand

It's epinephrine kidney made

Our fight or flight in blood

Pumping heart with natures aidMy superhuman bud

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Written by DellaMetcalf
When Shit Hits the Fan


When you think you can't, you can
A fish survives great time on land
Sometimes we're superhuman


When motivation's bloomin'


The times we do the things unreal

Are evidence of how we feel
I'll throw the dresser to the wall

To keep my child from deadly fall


I'll stay awake in case you wake
With something you must say
Your confession you must make

I'll tell you it's ok

Superhuman strength of man

We hope it will kick in
When shit is hitting our life fan
A natural helping hand

It's epinephrine kidney made
Our fight or flight in blood
Pumping heart with natures aidMy superhuman bud

























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Written by DellaMetcalf

Conservative Jargon

To  Donald,

I Think you have had some fun

Like 007 pointing his gun

You've had to make quick leaders' choices

Disregarding others' voices

You are not alone in fact

Many of  us have your back

You are our President today

I see you slowing down your play

I see that your sacrifice

Might involve the liquors vice

I tell you of these things that seem

To be a Presidential dream

Are just real as the you and me

Go do it Trump, do things unseen!!

A

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Written by DellaMetcalf
Conservative Jargon
To  Donald,
I Think you have had some fun
Like 007 pointing his gun
You've had to make quick leaders' choices
Disregarding others' voices
You are not alone in fact
Many of  us have your back
You are our President today
I see you slowing down your play
I see that your sacrifice
Might involve the liquors vice
I tell you of these things that seem
To be a Presidential dream
Are just real as the you and me
Go do it Trump, do things unseen!!


A



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