Lines in the sand,
arbitrarily drawn;
you are here.
Lines in a face,
describing a life;
worried etchings.
Lines for bread,
necessity’s calling;
separate, not equal
Lines of poetry,
quiet reflection;
heart on my sleeve.
Tag: free verse
Sanity Box
She’d chosen her own box,
Crystal clear lucite walls;
Sturdy and impermeable.
Easy, she found, to watch
A world come undone from
The confines of the enclosure.
Breathing became difficult,
But over time she found that
Didn’t matter much anymore.
The world irrevocably changed
Safe places now menacing
The monsters made normal.
Thank heaven for the box
Her only wish was that
She’d made it smaller.
Who Did You Become?
On 11/9/2016
Who did you become?
A boaster, bragger
instant tagger
c’mon can’t we get
along?
Or a nervous wreck
jumping at shadows
bad dreams of
four long
years to come?
a silenced nightmare
holding back
salty tears of
frustrated
rage,
or an anointer,
bring it on,
free the monster
from his
cage.
The Rake or the Leaf
I’ve been a rake
Forcing fallen leaves into crisp piles
Mounds of gold and rust
Scooped into brown bags and left beside autumn’s curbs.
No amount of diligence
Insures the capitulation of every frond
Some will take flight
In frantic whorls, escaping thus from gravity’s laws.
As an implement of control
My sense of failure knows no limits
In my future guise
I will cling to the oak tree immune to
season’s demands.
Plan-It
Saturn scheduled a shindig, inviting eight of her closest friends. Even Pluto
Who technically wasn’t in the same social circle received an embossed envelope
Worthy of a royal wedding reception and signed in gold script with a grand flourish.
Mercury responded in a flash, while Neptune tried to come up with a worthy excuse.
Earth and Mars forgot to r.s.v.p., while Jupiter sent a hand-written affirmation.
Venus began planning her outfit while Uranus graciously declined, having already
Made plans to visit the arboretum on the same day. The event was a huge success
Stars waited outside the venue, waiting to catch a glimpse of their favorite celebrities
All dressed up in velvet and ice, flashing their concentric rings to the universe.
Twenty-four Hours
Days aren’t as long as they used to be. Back when our two children were feisty toddlers and my
Husband worked revolving shifts, twenty-four hours lasted twenty-four years and nobody
Cared that I was drowning in every single second. Nurturing was a foreign concept peddled
By well-meaning matrons and judgemental church ladies. What in hell was wrong with me
That I didn’t gush over every milestone, each budding tooth, too exhausted to care that my babies
Wouldn’t be babies forever and that someday twenty-four hours would feel like twenty-four
Minutes, and a year reduced to a week and my babies grown and out on their own. Too soon.
My daughter celebrates her 36th birthday today. Even though I love her fiercely I wasn’t a patient mommy. The days of her infancy passed as slowly as liquid concrete, and I wish with all my heart we could have a do-over.
But she’s grown into an amazing, beautiful woman, and I’m so very proud of my Ashley. I love her, like her, care about her. Every day.
Peace, people.
Mourning Fictional Characters
Caution: The Walking Dead and Outlander spoilers!
Have you ever mourned a fictional character? A couple of nights ago I buried four of my most beloved fictional characters: Rollo, the wolf/dog from the Outlander books along with Henri-Christian, the youngest grandson of Jamie and Claire Fraser. Then on the Walking Dead the villain Neegan killed Abraham and Glenn. And still I reported for work this morning. Talk about stamina!
Rollo has died and I’m bereft. Old age took this faithful canine and now only Ian is left.
Buried near him is the sweet dwarf, grandson to Claire and Jamie. I couldn’t believe they
Took him from us, he was still a baby. And what about Glenn on the Walking Dead, his
Head bashed in by Negan? Along with Abraham who felt the weight of the vampire bat,
Lucille. Fictional characters are people, too, and mourning their deaths is redemption
For all the time we’ve spent with them and the pleasure they’ve given without exception.
Self Reflection
Introspective
Uninspired
Moody
Sad
Lost
Unwound
Confounded
Disenfranchised
Devoid of conscience,
Willing to go there
Even knowing regrets
Will flow like wine.
Exonerate
Justify
Alarm
Cry
Soul
Testify
Elaborate
Thoughts While Picking Up a Marble With My Toes
Deep Thoughts Entertained Whilst Picking Up a Marble With My Toes
My middle metatarsal has dropped. Easy for me to say, you think, but my chiropractor has instructed
Me in a way to strengthen this muscle in my foot that pleases and relaxes me, especially when done
In conjunction with the drinking of a glass of full bodied Merlot. Oddly enough, this stability
Enhancing exercise when combined with alcohol yields mixed results, particularly when said
Glass is repeatedly refilled over the course of an evening. Seems steady walking is purely relative.
Garden
Tend your garden
Weed the rows
Deadhead the roses
Scare off the crows
Rake the leaves
And employ the hoe
Mistress Mary
Your garden grows.
A trellis tall,
Vines wound ’round
Holds court o’er all
These fertile grounds
Beans and corn
Iris and mums
My pleasure found
In nature’s crumbs.
Praying for Eyebrowz 