The Poetry Marathon

You’ve done nothing!
You know how important this is 
to me, 
to us.
Yet nothing is done.
Don’t say anything!
Not to me.
I don’t want your 
Platitudes and hypocrisy.
I want schedules, reservations.
Dammit! I want itineraries.
People have driven for CENTURIES
Without GPS.
Well, at least close to a century
You won’t listen to the directions anyway.
You would think this would end badly, 
but this is us.
Every time,
Every year. 
We must have short memories
or long love.
Somehow, it works
When we’re together.

I look at the world
except it isn’t me 
and it isn’t the world
It is light
and space
and time
So there is some type of energy
I know there is.
And the energy brings
sound, and life.
Yes, the energy brings 
sound, and life.

“I am home!” I want to scream, 
Though I am voiceless.
Silenced by the pounding of my heart
Which deafens me.
Wide-eyed, terrified
My heart and my mind keep secrets 
Preventing my body from moving.
”I am home.” I whimper.
To my mind’s ear.
No one answers.

It’s it much better,
Wouldn’t you all agree,
That it is much better 
For the big, bad, wolf
to be disinclined 
to follow a path,
A scientific path,
Of the human anatomy.
Otherwise, 
Little Red Riding Hood 
May say,
”Why Grandma, what big eyes you have!”
And the wolf might respond,
”Yes, my macrocorneas help me to see you better my dear.”
A statement to this effect could easily frighten the poor girl away.
Indeed, that is true.

Fabulous, curious adventures

Remember the way he made us feel?

Like a friend.

Gentle, soft-spoken, honest, kind

The world be a better place!

Shared stories, serving

The good neighbor

Human kindness,

The single most important thing

What he cared about more than any of that

is human kindness.

Visioning exercises for the day

Think about who he would see at work.

Who would he see at lunch.

Who would he see at a meeting that afternoon.

Be prepared to be as thoughtful and kind as he could be.

Exemplar of human kindness.

Unique perspective and opportunity

to spread his message of love and kindness and acceptance.

Every word of his message was carefully chosen and crafted.

Friend, neighbor

Someone they could trust.

Dear Cheetah, age 7,

I hope you are fine. 
Really and truly fine, 
not the fake fine we learned to tell mom and dad when they asked, 
“What was the trouble? Why aren’t you sleeping?”
I writing you today to tell you that that you are amazing and you are safe. 
Don’t be scared.
I know it isn’t easy to sleep, but don’t scare yourself 
You are fine.
Isn’t it funny how protected you are in your innocence?
I was telling Mom just the other day 
- she’s older that Grandma now, by the way - 
I told her about all of the neighbors that used to give you candy, so you didn’t have to cross the street to go to the store. 
They let the whole neighborhood play in their yards. 
Why, without fences, it was hard to tell where one yard ended and the next one started.
And they didn’t care.
I wanted to write to you and tell you that you jump farther from the swings than anyone can. 
That’s why Mr. Gulleckson called you Cheetah. 
I guess you looked like a cat to him.
Don’t be so hard on yourself and if you could, 
please practice being on time 
so you aren’t grounded your entire fourth grade year.
Take care of yourself,
Laurie, Cheetah no longer
PS write back soon!

The lone moonbeam finds its way

Through the high fog, 

Masking the tops of the firs

Lining the shoreline past the dock.

We wade together, not silent, but with hushed tones.

I with my coffee and you, your canteen.

Water lapping the concrete 

Invading my thoughts 

As we unknowingly step off the shelf

Into the abyss.

In the death of winter,
The goldfinches fly
To the little feeder in the big pine.
Some might say, 
Most likely to eat.
Others may say,
to socialize and mate.
I listen respectively.
Smiling in secret.
For I know in my heart,
The goldfinch is here
Out of necessity.
Instilling hope with their colors in the sky.
Assuring  smiles with their songs on the bleak, cold air.
You see, I know, they bring the first sights of Spring.

*Based on the title “The Goldfinch” by Donna Tartt

She stared fixatedly at a point 
Past his right shoulder.
”You are raunchy, loud and a bore.”

He smiled 
With dead eyes.
”You, my dear, are expensive, dramatic and bossy.”

This is why they stopped talking to each other.

We cast a spell
to protect us from unkindness
and people who adore celebrities.
“I wish our spell included 
protection against houseflies.”
I mutter, waving them off to pester another.
Silently and to myself, I warn the fly.
I don’t want to kill you,
But I won’t lose sleep over it.
”The song isn’t that bad,” 
Gently intrudes on my unspoken threats.
”No.” I agree. 
Working on appreciation,
acceptance and the ukulele.
Anticipating chords changes.
Being lulled by the calm melody.
I picture the song’s placement
somewhere with Bon Iver
And “Somebody I used to know.” 
Sort of sad, 
Sort of sweet.
It’s a really good drawing,
The dog on the cover, I mean.
And I’m not criticizing.
Maybe it is a cover. 
When at first I listened,
I thought it
Some kind of fish.
The drawing I mean.