Coo coo

Her lips curl to smile
with the baby on her lap.
"I want one," she says.

April PAD Day 21 - senryu

Beyond the horizon

I waited as you wandered
through the confusion
to an oasis of calm

You dipped your hands into
a river of
my tears, cooled your head

and wet your throat with
the sadness of
the dark desert between us

April PAD Day 20 - beyond

Singed

The slow simmer
of your indifference has burned
straight through me


April PAD Day 19 - burn

"Words can't express ..."

They were waiting on her front porch
when she walked up the driveway
after a long day at the shoe store.

Their uniforms were crisp and clean.
Even from here she could see the shine
of their polished brass-colored buttons.

Even now as the sun was setting, she
could see the glints of light bouncing off
them as they waited for her.

They could have been there for hours,
standing somber and still, just as he had
for so many formal occasions.

And in the military, it all seemed formal.
They always stood so tall, proud, patient, official.
These two were the same, brothers

in a family she didn't yet understand,
staring at her and knowing perhaps
that she had expected,

no, dreaded, the day that the man in
the crisp, clean uniform on her front porch
was not her husband.

She wished she were back on the express
train, back at work, surrounded by the stale
smell of socks and sweat,

anywhere but here, walking this impossible road


April PAD Day 17 - express

Who do you think you are, child?

Kids have a way of
Immersing themselves in the
Magic of everyday
Imagination, not
Knowing that this
Openness we think ordinary

Lives wild in our
Youth, so
Near that we
Never believe it can disappear.

Years later we will see that
Optimism challenged as the
Unknown morphs from
Newness to negativity. We 
Grow wiser, we think,

Master our own lives
And wonder why
Reality is far less
Tantilizing than
It was when 
No one was looking.
Evermore we seek the 
Zen of childhood.
 
--

Poetic Bloomings Memoir Project
PART 1 – Who do you think you are?

Learning to sit still

Sometimes when I'm alone
I cry softly
into the emptiness
just to feel the vibrations

Sometimes when I'm alone
I sit quietly
in the vibration
just to let myself empty

--

Carry on Tuesday #194:
Sometime's when I'm alone I cry

Birth day

Happy 16th birthday to my Monster.


You rushed in
as you've done every day since
pushing your way
into this world with fierce determination

I wasn't there
more than two pain-filled hours
before you appeared
blue and twisted and perfect

The doctors rushed
to unwind the twisted gray cord
around your neck
and hear your first full-lunged cries

You turned pink
before our blood-shot eyes and wailed
I kissed your
forehead and was forever changed


Poetic Bloomings # 82: The most important day of my life

Call waiting

The woman on the phone
won't stop talking.
But I love her anyway.


Nov PAD #14 - stuck

cummings and goings

"It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are."
- e.e. cummings


I have sprouted like a wildflower
in a summer patch of green,
stretching tall in the happy sun.

I have wilted and drooped,
a sad, forgotten weed in the
midst of a dry, lonely winter.

And I have shriveled to dust,
a speck in the breeze that carries 
away what is left of me. 

And still I remain - weed and wildflower,
ash and seed, underfoot and in the air 
as you breathe in a lung full of hope and promise.

--
Nov PAD #8 - talk back to a dead poet

When he's gone

Hasn't happened yet, but it's so close I can already feel it.


WHEN HE'S GONE

When he's gone,
you'll miss the smell of
cologne he used

too much of;
the mess of his room
and the socks

on the floor.
You'll wonder if he's eating
or studying enough;

if he's using
a condom or smoking too
much cheap weed.

When he's gone,
you'll be glad he's off
exploring the world

as young men
eventually must, but wish he
would call home

once in awhile.


--

Nov PAD #9 - When he's gone