“O what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive.”
—Walter Scott
“Ouch, dammit! Stupid freaking spider!”
—Me
“Spider Bait”
Spiders help or hurt
Depending on one’s point of view
Mine is somewhat jaundiced
Having suffered bites of every hue.
Apparently my bedclothes
Harbor an arachnid
A sneaky little bastard
Who preys upon my bare shins.
Thoroughly I search the sheets
Looking for this menace
If he be wise he’ll run away
Or serve a fatal sentence.
He walks a limb, unconcerned, undeterred, master of his own destiny.
Alone at the top of the world, competent, exuberant.
Dangling meters above the earth, unafraid, unhampered.
Innocence in motion, carefree; nonchalance as an art form.
My heart climbs with this fearless child, for my body no longer can.
May he know this joy for the entirety of his life.
Trumpty Dumpty so filled with gall
Trumpty Dumpty called for a wall
None of his minions
Or sycophants
Were able to discern Trumpty’s arrogance.
Married young
my high school love
nearly forty years ago
Romantic novels
formed expectations
of how our lives should go:
Every day a poem
written in honor of
my beauty and my style,
Long conversations
about my attributes
all to make me smile.
Instead I got
this grounded man
no poetry in his soul
Who works so hard
to care for me, my
well-being is his goal
And if that isn’t
poetry of a sort, I reckon
it should be
The poetry of keeping
one’s hands on the wheel for
his woman’s sake
The verse of tending
to her every physical need in
sickness and in health
Maybe this man is the
poet I longed for in days
long past
Or perhaps he’s the muse
who fills my pages with tales
enough to last.
Happy anniversary Studly!
I
need
love like
flowers need
rain.
I
seek
comfort as
babies seek
succor.
I
crave
peace in
a violent
world.
I
deserve
the respect
that every human
seeks.
I
believe
we are better
than our politics
portray.
turn the key
speak the words
play the patriot card
make America great? again?
terrorize our collective psyche
make us fear
make us dread
make us suspect
anyone who looks
anyone who worships
anyone who loves
differently.
fish do not ken
that they are wet.
easily led
easily fooled
easily angered.
let me tell you
you are drenched.
i sing
every hour
under my breath,
at the top of my lungs.
i think
every second
about injustice
and the power of love.
i cry
once a day
for lives lost
in needless ways.
an aura
of futility
permeates all,
threatens despair.
yet, i sing
because music
lightens my heart;
takes away the hurt.
No scholarly tomes grace the table beside her bed, instead Harlequin romances and Fabio-graced
Bodice rippers stacked three deep provide her nighttime reading inventory. Yet she argues
Politics on social media having watched Sarah Palin make nonsense of sense while appearing
Perfectly coiffed, but maybe a bit drunk. She feels that Hillary is untrustworthy, after all,
FOX news tells her in sly words and simpering phrases that this is so. Claims she’s
Heard Hillary say our second amendment rights will disappear and babies will be aborted
Even as they are born, healthy, but unwanted. Yet when pressed for proof, name
Calling ensues and ugly words are exchanged. I console myself with the thought
That she really is not very informed, but the cold reality is, she will be voting in November.
Will you?
within the hour, sun will slip
below trees’ ruffled edge
and froggy songs exuberant
hold court on center stage.
woods and lake commune in joy
as day’s light softly fades
through oaken leaves reflected there
in still water’s patient gaze.
paradise exacts a price
its beauty never owned
only borrowed for the briefest time
when evening light turns gold.
peace, people.
I shaved my legs this morning, just as I shaved them yesterday and the day before, as
Far back as fifth grade when an older boy looked at the soft brown hair highlighted against my pale
Skin and made a disparaging remark about my burgeoning femininity. His words inflicted
Shame on my body. Where before I’d felt they were a part of me, now my legs were alien
Enemies, beings that had sprouted unsightly fur seemingly overnight with no advance
Warning. As soon as school dismissed I hurried home and beseeched my mom for my own
Razor. Oh, you don’t want to start shaving, just yet, she said, Once started, you cannot stop.
Yet she gave in, instructing me in the depilatory arts. And damned if she wasn’t right.
Praying for Eyebrowz 