24 – Poetry Assistant

“Are you really gonna do that poetry all nighter again, Gramma?”

“Yes, Bud, I am. I love it!”

“Okay then. I will stay up with  you. I will be your assistant like last year.”

:”That sounds great, Cam! Thank you!”

“But Gramma, can I just play video games with my friends and then when you need anything you can just ask me for it?”

“I like it! Let’s do that.”

“Okay, and if I get hungry, will you stop and make me something to eat?”

“Honey, that is what the assistant does. So, if I get hungry, will you make me something to eat?”

“Yeah. I can do that.”

“Okay. It’ll be fun!”

“Yeah, oh and Gramma, can I have that chocolate in the freezer?”

“That is poem reward chocolate. You can have a piece when I get one. Deal?”

“Deal.”

 

Twenty four hours.

Twenty four poems written.

Grateful poets rest.

 

Elizabeth Fellows

6/28/2020, 2am

23- Mine

This day belongs to me.

I will not share it.

I will not cook or clean.

I will not go to work.

If I shut the door today, it is okay.

If I ask you to figure it out yourself today

that is okay too

because today is mine

and I do not  have to share it.

 

Today is my Christmas

and all the gifts are mine

the gifts of unencumbered thought

and time to unfold, to write and discover

and craft words into powerful poetry.

Today is one of my favorite days of the year.

I cherish it and look forward to it all year long.

 

Today is mine. It belongs to me, and I to it.

It is mine, and I am grateful.

 

Elizabeth Fellows

6/28/2020, 1am

22 – Bless the Muse

Bless the Muse who stayed by my side

tapping my shoulder

whispering in my ear

offering words when my tongue was parched

and my mind empty.

I will send you

silver strands from my head

on the backs of Sunday breezes

in gratitude for your encouragement

and lyrics when I had none.

 

Elizabeth Fellows

6/28/2020, 12am

21 – We Are All One

I have love to offer.

Don’t push me aside

because our gods have different names.

 

I have healing to share.

Don’t ignore me

because I call to god with a different tone.

 

I have messages to tell.

Don’t turn away

because you don’t know everything in your book.

 

I have friendship and unity,

communion and fellowship to give.

Don’t reject me because I do not walk through

the same door as you on Sunday.

 

Elizabeth Fellows

6/27/2020, 11pm

20 – Sister 2, a deconstructed senryu septet

She’s delusional. She thinks she’s untouchable. Blondes can be like that.

She’ll take your husband. She’s always broken the rules. Won’t even want him.

Late drunk night at work… She’ll take him just to have him, then do lunch with you.

After work party, she is all about the chase. She’ll win every time.

She’ll hold your baby, throw you a baby shower, and meet him later.

She is dangerous. Do not let her in your house, or near your family.

Blondes can be like that even when they start to age. She’s unscrupulous.

 

Elizabeth Fellows

6.27/2020, 10pm

19 – A Visit with Dad

Dad has disbursed. He vibrates higher now, his pitch and tone as clear as bellsound. He isn’t as invested in physical things these days. He let’s me know that although they seem critically important when we are here, they simply do not hold the same gravity from non physical.

I ask him what he does these days. He tells me he does the equivalent of what we understand as deep thinking or meditation. He says that it is like trying hard to figure something out, but already knowing everything there is to know about everything. He says it is perfect intentional vibration. I ask him if I can join him in doing it. He reminds me that we are all joined always, so if I try it, I will naturally be trying it with him, and the rest of The Collective.

He says I am always welcome.

He is much more a teacher than the goofy guy that was my dad, but I still recognize an essence of him in what remains.

I tell him I still want to remember him as he was here. He encourages me to relive the memories, and enjoy where I am right now. This last part is very Disbursed Eternal Being Dad.

I tell him Iove him… miss him so much! He radiates Purity and Consciousness over me. I never want to stop feeling  that. When he feels me, he goes, and I am left to enjoy where I am right now, and to remember Dad the way he was when he was here, my physical form Dad.

Thank you, Dad. Thank you Disbursed Form Dad in The Collective. I love and need you both so much…!

 

Elizabeth Fellows

6/27/2020, 9pm

18 – Feral

If Dad had been alive

he would not have appreciated us.

He had hunted enough in his lifetime.

He knew the scents of wild animals.

He could smell a feral thing like us

and would have picked up on us right away.

He would have been deeply uncomfortable.

We would not have been invited back.

And, he would have blamed it on you, all of it on you

that there was just “something about that guy”

He would never have allowed himself

to know that I was The Beast

that I was the Primordial Monster…

never would have allowed himself to know

or even think it.

If Dad had been alive

I would have gotten a stern talking to

and so would you.

He would have pulled you off to the side

told you to “bathe more regularly, use some deodorant

maybe a little jock powder.”

He was that kind of man. He would have tried to “help ya out there.”

But, it wouldn’t have made a difference

regardless of the spray or powder

shampoo of body wash.

It wasn’t you. It would never be you.

 

It couldn’t.

 

A timid fluffy bunny

can not take on the scent of a ravenous wolf.

A frolicking mountain kid

would never musk like prowling jaguar.

It is not in their nature, not part of their dna.

 

It is not who you were born to be.

No teeth. No claws.

Just a flitting fluffy bunny tail for taunting… taunting…

But we would have known… we did know.

 

You can’t not know

who has the growl

and who has the soft underbelly.

 

You can’t not know…

 

6/27/2020, 8pm

16 – 83

Every evening, the elderly lady next door

sits on her front lanai and exclaims to me,

“I am having my weekly glass of evening  wine.”

I make a slightly exaggerated facial expression

and remind her that, “One a week is actually good for you!”

 

I take bowls to her of whatever we are having for dinner.

Within minutes, she returns the bowl

clean. dry, and filled with something yummy

from her own kitchen, always clarifying,

“I will have that for my dinner, so I put it on a plate.”

Then, regardless of the time, she reminds me

“I have to get home now.

My daughter calls me every night at 7 o’clock.

She calls me every night. 7 o’clock.

 

Sometimes, when I happen to be sitting out front around 7 o’clock

I hear her sweet, sing song greeting.

I can picture her lovely face, so excited

as if she were the child, and her Mom was calling her…

 

Elizabeth Fellows

6/27/2020, 6pm

15 – Across the Walk

The man across the walk (we have an across the walk now since our move)… the man across  the walk makes lovely interaction with his perfect yellow hibiscus flowers. If I could hear him (the walk is very wide and grassy), I would expect him to be cooing to them. He also strokes his red ti leaves, the branches of his very young, tender pink plumeria tree, and the slender leaves of his firecracker bushes.

When his teacup some kind of silky looking adorable terrier runs out, zig zagging between his legs, darting out, and scooting back to him, his smile takes his whole face, and he sweet talks her (even with the wide grassy, short white fenced walk, I am certain he is).

He loves so well, I send him gratitudes.

This is really good townhouse animal vegetable husbandry.

I believe it.

 

Elizabeth Fellows

6/27/2020, 5pm

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