Category Archives: Poetry

Falling…

stepping closer to the ledge
ever nearer freedoms edge
like a leaf pressed under glass
colors frozen you defined me
roses pressed tween paper pages
crumble tumble far too humble
now I spread my wings and leap
pray the future heart to keep
the clouds roll in and burst in sound
and thunder signifying little
round the thinking in my head
the sinking of the ship of prisons
prisms light reflected from the dreams
the streams of rain to wash me clean
I pledge to fall and in the falling
listen for the inner calling
torn the veil oh torn asunder
pulled the net right out from under
all the days stretch on to night
as I am poised for freedom’s flight

This Same Sunset

the evening sky was brilliant
rose and lavender and palest blue
gilded with the last rays
should have lifted my heart…

but as I looked I thought
under this same sky
a man goes home with
a cardboard box and a pink slip

someone searches rubble for
quake survivor
goes home with a hand full of
dust and tears

a father is shot in a protest
against a government
that cares nothing for his loss
while tv shows
bloodstained concrete

the remains of a child
lost sixteen years ago
are identified and a mother
goes to sleep with fresh grief

the weight of the sunset
was crushing
carrying this pain and worry
grief of a world all
breathing the same air
holding the same sky over
bowed heads and shoulders

I think to myself
we are all local
the clouds are golden over
all and the sun sets
to let each sleep or toss
waiting for dawn

I have nothing in my hands
to work or fight
except prayers and
love for my neighbor
who doesn’t know it’s there

I shrink to my tiny space
on a globe and feel the
smallness of my world
the smallness of my heart
marvel at God who
holds it all in His hands

including my tiny heart
and this sunset

Six Days

This was written in January for an All Poetry contest. The parameters were to write a five line piece for six days and that week ended with the shooting of congress woman Gabrielle Giffords.

i.
some days are
just so much sawdust
and splinters
hammers and nails
wasted sweat

ii.
Wednesdays fly by so fast
coffee barely cooled
as night slams down and
I slide into home scraping
cheeks on pillows

iii.
beaten over the head by
boredom – a huge marshmallow
that leaves no bruise
but regret that
there is nothing to feel

iv.
dawn unbroken
world dreams and I
want more cream in my coffee
but the bus is leaving
and I will be on it

v.
days and days upon more
they seem forever
yet are finite
I will live as though
the sand never runs out

vi.
in six days the world
was created
on the news today
one moment and for some
the world ended

Everyone Needs a Cat

All Poetry prompt: “Most people don’t pour a cup of bourbon on their milk and oatmeal in the morning. It’s just the way it is.” (Dan Fante)

Have no idea how or why I went here but here I am…

I went to visit a friend
and we sat
and talked
about nothing in
particular.
I enjoyed the warm
evening breeze
and sipped my drink,
laughed at a joke,
lulled by the sunset.
His cat jumped up on the
bench next to me.
Absent-mindedly
I reached down to stroke
the damn thing and
next thing I know
blood is dripping
down my arm.
There is a lesson
I’m sure, but
for now
I just want a gun
and a bandage.

My Words

my words
are tiny things
that once lived
in my heart
born in confusion
they became
complete surprise
grew in ways I
never thought of
and I pray they
will bear fruit
as they go on
to have lives of
their own

Not Home

like a shirt that doesn’t fit
too short sleeves
tight across the breasts
hitches up in the back
letting the cold chill me
letting cold fill me

my life is a question mark
an unfinished poem
stilted language and
forced rhyme
words written across
gooseflesh and scars

home is an idea
skin stretched across miles
tentative smiles
that don’t quite reach
brown eyes
I never quite get it
I never will

like the dream where
you’re running
with no hope of stopping
and wake upon falling
with a start and a shiver
I wonder forever
if I just don’t belong here

Unashamedly Unplugged

I hear the world
it knocked on
my heart today
music carried feet
breeze washed clean
hinting at spring to come
Slipping round the next cloud
wanting me to rock it out
speed it up give a shout
I hear em say I should
jump right in
down and dirty
focus on the win
moving and shaking
insides quaking with fear
of a fall rushing sound
rushing ground

but I am unashamedly
unplugged
writing my own music
singing my own songs
I will eat my own words
even when they are bitter
I will own my own screw ups
for I’ve been talking to birds
they say gravity is depravity
and all you have to do is leap
focus on the sky and try
the wind will take you
floating on currents
will be easy as breathing
easy as leaving
I will be on the edge of
your vision no derision
erases spirit; makes you crash
unabashed fly as high
as the atmosphere goes
to the ceiling of everything
sing for birds know
that you can go and wheel
in a sun dog spread wings
birds say down is
just another direction
you choose let your wings
be your compass be
your star you are
running and jumping
first ground then the sky

all the stillness of air
rushing by in the silence
you will find it
surrounds you it
abounds in the moments
between feathered ticking of
clocks doesn’t matter
just time if you fly
you can live for a thousand
miles on those minutes
you’re in it outside of it
around it as it courses through
arteries pumping with joy
years are nothing but
counting I’ve given up numbers
for music and color
a life that’s much fuller
for what is not in it
the baggage is dead weight
and miles upon miles piled
on years upon years
I’m leaving the tears
the fears and self hate
I’m talking to birds
wisdom lives in their words

Poetic Flight

poetry comes a butterfly
you cannot call her to you
and once she lights on your shoulder
you must be still for
you are being blessed
she is light as air and will disappear
from your fingers
delicate and easily frightened
you must handle her very gently
or her colors will fade
forever damaged
and instead of flight she was
born for
she will die

Birds of Winter

bird on my porch
puffed up in his parka
so small against the cold
he brings nothing
and takes nothing away
he and his friends
cover the yards
respite from ice
bearing winds
you are welcome
stay awhile give
hope of warmth
to come
you have something to
teach me right
on the tip of your wing
you carry yourself
through skies and
wait for me to learn
I would speak with
you but I am frail
I hide in my house
burning your trees
to keep me warm
while you stand
on cold concrete
staring into sleet

Sea of Dreams

photobucket

I spent so many moments
looking up and dreaming
that it hardly seemed worth noting
I got lost one day in clouds
the rainfall covered me
and all the land around
I was mesmerized by colors
of soft hue so water
rose and still I dreamed it
seemed to gently rock with waves
as hair spread tendrils floated
land became a myth the sky
was real tiny fish swam in
and out of seaweed tresses
ocean motion waves the tides
will come and go but sky
remains and I am lost
in dreams forever near the clouds
bright sun will warm me til the moon
takes on the job of lighting fires
on the sea a thousand diamonds
shattered glass to draw my eye
horizons distant my descent lies
deeper than the sky I close eyes
thinking drifting water
streaming all around the sound of
sea birds singing siren songs
sailors sextant readings measure
distances from star to star but
I know deepest night makes
star miles farther than the farthest
galaxy the nebulous hold of gravity
is not my law as I float softly
feather blown wave tossed tide lost
lines crossed but not erased the place
I seek is here inside the dreaming
I remain no pain no worry hurry is
a memory from time long ago so
ripples cover ocean mother
giving birth I am an island shore
breached sun bleached salt leeched
sand beneath me misty dusk set
of the sun the day dreams into night
as I am rocked to blessed sleep
I sink into the deep don’t weep
when I am gone for I am floating free

the image was the prompt and the only credit given was photobucket. If this is your picture please let me know and I will be glad to give credit or remove it.

All God’s Children

Word of the Day was Lollop and probably a little influence from reading Paschal…

joy the fat cheeked babes
all pinch and tickle
hear the giggles squirmy
rolly polly children run for cliffs
no fear of falling that comes later
but for now we lollop ‘cross
the bumpy backyard berry
picking dandylion wines are pining
for the firefly summer evening falling
softly all around the curly noodles
soupy doodles in the steam
you twist it left and twist it right
and still it slips off spoony
loony tunes and sugar babies
got a magic bag of tricks
all day suckers extra licks
maybe hugs and maybe running
off into the sunning motes of
sparkly shiny catches eyes and
last look back then off they fly

Invisible Stone

Sunday Scribbling #250: invisible

I feel
like two people.
One goes through the
day, doing the daily things,
all the things that make me
look like everyone else…
and how they have so
very little meaning,
trying to find one
moment each day,a purpose
to make sleep restful

The other me watches…
watches all and wonders
if this skin can hold me.
Is there something
curled deep inside
invisible that needs
to come out?
Am I the stone that the
sculptor works to uncover
what is waiting to be seen?
Or is it just cold marble
fearing the hammer blows
that could shatter into
millions of tiny jagged pieces.
Who wields the hammer?

Do I choose or is the choice
made for me?
I hear music but am I
a singer?
I want to dance but do
I understand the meaning
of the steps?
Will my grandchildren come
on Sundays to plait my white hair
or will I languish in drool
cared for by minimum waged
strangers who wonder
who I was (if they stop long
enough to care)?

Will you remember something
I said that time and wonder
what did she mean?
Do I know secrets that I hold
close and hint at because
the soul is a deep place
or will you shake your head
and say “what a waste”?
Will I rest under green grass
feeling sun warmth?
Will a bird light on the stone
and sing to me?
I wrap my chilled arms around
myself and look out into the dark.
I know I am here.  I see my
reflection in the glass.

Keeping Watch

walking through the cold morning
two blackbirds swoop down and
yell at me as they pass by
gliding on currents
that move silent over my head
wake up! wake up!
shiny ebony spots in
a gray sky reminding me
that spring will come on the
same currents blowing warm rain
to green the earth and melt
the goosebumps on my arms
sleeping winter dreams
sprout spider lilies around my feet
and shake out the blue sky
wake up!  wake up!
I’ll wrap my heart in blankets
and tend the fire
keeping watch with
blackbirds

Startime

mundane chores
pinch cheeks
I move through days
forgotten hours
clocks foreign language
but mirror hands
tell stories

I put out a finger
touch stars in
deep night
thinking to find
answers
but silence echos
I feel nothing but cold

Take Your Turn

every day in rooms
that are never black and white
decisions are made
people are moved like
pieces on a game board
no monopoly on pain
the red queen wants to
live on boardwalk
but now she is unemployed
the duke of hearts is selling
a lifestyle on the corner
and you will pass go and
pay your money down if you
go that way the deck shuffled
up the ladders and down the
chutes every decision changing
the score and the ones who
hold the rule book keep
changing their minds
foreclose on this property
raise that one’s taxes
spend the retirement fund for
those guys they won’t have a clue
they will gesture all they want but
book or movie rights won’t make a
difference to the one with the
gun in the library whose health
insurance was canceled when
his wife needed an operation
the game of life is multi-colored
and we place our bets but the
only sure thing is in the end
our castles all fall to the white king
checkmate

image credit: http://www.gallery4collectors.com/MLWalker-CastleKeep.htm

Uncontainable

You think you are clever?
Let me make you a promise!
My will trumps clever.
Concrete can’t choke roots
that burrow deep into soil.
Tall buildings can’t completely
block the sun and the rain,
the sweet rain, will still reach me
and I will grow.
Birds will nest in my limbs
in spring and hatch strong
babies that will remember.
My leaves will shade the old
woman and her shopping cart
in summer and she will
continue on her journey.
I will part traffic and slow
the hurried drivers to keep
them safe and I will grow.
The asphalt will lift
as my roots spread and weeds
will sprout in cracks for
I am life and I will
not be contained.

http://www.tonylawphoto.com/files/images/landscape/tree.jpg

From The Bus Window

east Texas morning
takes it’s time
leafless winter tree fingers
stroke the rosy dawn from
sleepy pastures
where lights
flicker in early riser windows
and coffee is starting to perk
I am alone in this crowd
contemplating the possibility
of a new day and the
serpentine path of geese
shifting lines that follow
an ancient wisdom
I try to listen but there is
nothing but a deep silence
that lives somewhere in their wings
as the world wakes below