Sunday, July 5, 2015

Inner children dream

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The dream of chaos and
a cluttered apartment,
two lost children,
one small and barely vocal or mobile
the other older and already running off
at the slightest whiff of abandonment
The phone call from the 'mother'
reminding me of my promise to 'watch' them.

I carefully gather these hard-known
doppelgangers and dress and feed
and read and bed them, all while
listening to the dulcet tones of the
new male friend, talking and talking.
He doesn't see the kids but it's okay.
I do. They are mine. They are me.

The talking goes on while I gather dishes
stack books, accumulate laundry, and
(curiously) check the swimming pool
for stragglers and stuff, while
neighbors ghost through and around, oblivious to
my presence and his. Who's real?

He promises and pays and and prays and pontificates.
He makes me laugh, unexpected and joyful.
I am soothed by his care and his hopes,
yet unswayed from mine. We verbally meld
our hopes and thoughts as I strive.

The disordered home doesn't seem to clear much
despite my orderly efforts, yet I am
clearer eyed and calmer and once again the
kids are quiscient, content, loved.

I won't forget
my precious ones
the truest me's
the smallest to the largest,
my purest and cherished self.

As we explore new vistas and relationships
I'm holding us tightly
I promise.
We won't have to lose
ourselves or anything else
ever again
unless we choose to
to be more truly

Wednesday, May 20, 2015

What is THIS?

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What's this? What's this?
There's delight everywhere
What's this? What's this?
There's courtship in the air

What's this?
I can't believe my eyes
I must be dreaming
Wake up, please, this isn't fair
What's this?

The sights, the sounds
They're everywhere and all around
I've never felt so good before
This empty place inside of me is filling up
I simply cannot get enough

I want it, oh, I want it
Oh, I want it for my own
I've got to know, I've got to know
What is this rapture that I have found?
What is this?

(Inspired by/heavily borrowed from the song 'What's this?' from the movie "Nightmare Before Christmas")

Saturday, April 18, 2015


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She walks away
and then she walks away.
Whether it is physical
mental spiritual
Efforts to rekindle
spitting into a fire
the destruction of camraderie,
never imagined.
This one ending too.
She says she hasn't given
up on us, our friendship. 
I sadly don't believe.
Too many missed 
calls plans texts 
and then
the endless silence
no explanation
lukewarm amends.
Tools and guidance, 
these platonic soul mates
temporary fellow travelers
even knowing that
it still hurts.
The u/Universe's plan
is every evolving and 
moving, despite our 
puny desire to hold one
to stay
the same
hands clasped in
merry games.
One lets go.
There goes 

Thursday, April 2, 2015


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The improbable
the province of childhood
chalked treasure maps
building blocks of
day dreams, backyards, dark closets
blanket forts and tree houses
bubble worlds with creature friends,
bike adventures, creeping through
forests of bushes, treasure hunting
hidden corners and quiet moments
seeking quiet, unassuming space
to drift in innocent thoughts or
reading a book
without adults
to muck it all up
with chores, dreary responsibility
realistic role models.

Day Two NaPoWriMo prompt from FB: write something to spark a child's imagination! I decided to remember what's it's like to have an child's imagination.

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

The crowning achievement

An eternity of pain,
hours of sweating and complaining,
enduring indignities that no human
should have to remember
when at last
you emerged
finally in a hurry.
After an eighteen hour labor,
you leapt into the doctor's hands,
hollering your indignation
at the cold and the bright.
Your loud, insistent presence
was placed in my arms and
I knew, for the first time,
that I had accomplished
the best thing ever.

Day One NaPoWriMo Prompt: write loud and large about a triumphant moment!

Thursday, February 26, 2015

Almost (laughter)

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Ah ha



Almost once again

did I fall for the romantic patter

the fake interest

the carefully crafted questions

the flattering attention.

And then -

I shared something

that got too close to

what and who

you really are


you ran,

telling me it was my fault.

For a few moments,

I really did think

it was mine

and then I realized

what had really happened.


I caught myself just in time.

My instinct was once again

dead on.

(Posted for Imaginary Garden with Toads, "The Tuesday Platform", 2/24/15 and  Hyde Park Poetry "Thursday Poet Rally", 2/26/15)

Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Love is not a greeting card

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It's messy
you and I
though we've been separated
two years, there are
still feelings
still connections
still so much commonality.
We fight when one of
us tries to impose their
will or opinions on the other
yet when we are on the same page
we move mountains and
facilitate miracles.
We don't know how to surmount
the problems of gender and honesty
and trust.
Yet we strive to be friends
while living our separate lives
and others wonder, often outloud
how the hell we do it
how we can mostly get along
after years of titanic emotional warfare
and purposeful character assassination.
We don't know either.
We just do.
Because we can.
Because we choose to.
We make our path, together and singly
and it works for us.

(Inspired by the prompt, "Love is not a greeting card" at Poets United, 2/11/15)