When California comes to Mind

When California comes to Mind

California is not all Hollywood stars and glamour.
Not Beverly Hills mansions, Golden Gate Bridge or Silicon Valley.
It is you trapped in your apartment during this Pandemic.
Hair growing into a wild fro.
Unable to perform on stage, you record Cameo’s
to cheer up fans.
Surprise visits on Live Instagram to give them a sanity.

When I see LA or California on a map,
I see your beautiful dark Latino skin
with sparkles near your pupils.
I hear the sweet sentiments of your voice
and miss your singing.
California holds a promise towards tomorrow
because it holds you inside it.

Margarette Wahl

hour 4 poem

Writing

Writing can be such a pain

What is it I have to gain?

 

Every day I sit and type

I do not understand all the hype

 

Tap tap the keys on my computer go

And out from my mind these words do flow

 

So today and tomorrow and next week we will see

If what comes from my mind will cause others to flee or glee!

Spurning White (Prompt 4)

It’s been over two years.

I’m glad you’re no longer here.

You’d fume, you’d fear.

You’d cry blood for me, for us,

your world, the world, your life.

 

A joy, full heart, hiding

sorrow, long neglect, scars,

of the mother shadow, she,

a pretense of domiciled mime.

And yet, you loved deeply.

 

A 180, you bore five,

doted, cherished, fussed,

sent me out to play,

in a white dress, I dare not

dirty; I still can’t.

 

A gravy dropped sleeve,

I can’t sleep, think.

Where’s the soap? Water?

Hopelessly stained.

I’m glad you didn’t see.

 

As you lay there, awake,

asleep, dying, living, breathing,

but barely knowing, I think.

You missed my misstep,

the splattered mess I made.

 

And when you inhaled,

and failed to exhale, I cried,

sighed with relief, happy

you never witnessed me,

falling down, filthy discharge.

 

So now, your legacy runs

deep within my cells, a pattern

on repeat; my daughters dressed

in purple and blue angst,

blemish free, spurning white.

Hour 4, Prompt 2

1 a swing

2 oil

3 a man or a woman or two or three of each

4 candles

5 a house to one’s self, with absolutely zero kids running about

This is the place for which one could jump off

For an afternoon of great bedroom sport

But there’s no need to rush things, indeed you are encouraged to take it slow

This is one frolic that deserves a great big show.

Rinse. Repeat. And do it again.

A word to the wise, though-

This recipe can be cause for a great raucous and noise.

And some cautionary thoughts, 9 months later babies can result.

To Whom It May Concern

Set between the events of Portal and Portal 2.

---

It is a true saying that power tends to corrupt,
As evidenced by certain persons (naming no names)
When they realise their power is not absolute.

For future reference, when faced with the unexpected
It is unbecoming to throw what amounts to a temper tantrum.
Frankly, an A.I. of your capacity should know better.

Also, murder should not be your first resort, or even your second.
There are other, more effective ways of making a point
That do not involve destroying your entire personnel.

I didn’t say anything at the time, for you weren’t listening.
This letter is to tell you my silence was an act of restraint
Something you are in desperate need of.

Chell

at the station

We arrived, watched as you bought a ticket.
You came back to say goodbye, the wind
urgently pushed you as the minute passed.

I let go of your warm touch
bade my last farewell
while weakly waving my hand into a now cool air.

The sun lingered a little longer at dusk
as we stood at the gate covered in the patchy shadows
that spring blurrily plastered onto the cement

“Please, just a little while longer.”

A Letter to Healthcare Workers

In this time of COVID,
I want to send you thanks.
My heart is full of gratitude for your service.
Did you know how needed you were? Were you able to to choose?

Were you given time to assess your immortality or did you think of patients to the exclusion of yourself.

We often think in terms of self-love in opposition to self-sacrifice. Your honor in serving others will be remembered for generations to come.

Talula (Hour 1)

Dear Talula:

Heard it’s been raining quite a bit there lately. Frequent flash flooding, they say. Sounds messy.

Certainty you haven’t forgotten to dry off your feet at the door.

Mud on the red rug would set Nana off.

No one wants that.

To be fair though – no one aspires to own a muddy rug.

Unless the mess is what you’re trying to address.

Miss you,

Joy

 

 

 

Poem 4

I stop first by the church for help for aid
I want to find her family to rest
To put this sad body inside its grave.

“See here young man
Your heart is full of good
But put your Christian charity
Where a good Christian should.

You find a body in the day
It smells of rot
Begins its decay.

You want someone to know this woman is dead
But this is no godly woman son
Her gloves are lace
Her dress is torn
I am sure this a woman of scorn
A whore.

Leave this body I will place it in the ground.
But I will be given no trouble to track her kin down.”

Be she a whore or be she not cannot
I accept this line of thought and belief.

I gather my cart carrying body
The cart laid heavy with mysteries grief.

25 hours and a hole

We pack the car

Sandwiches and all

I wave to my house

Before day fall

Every once in awhile

The littlest one wakes up

From a bump under the backseat

Tire

We only made 10 stops that day

4 bathroom breaks

3 to fill up the tank

2 to stretch our legs

And 1 by cops asking where we were

Headed

It takes 25 hours

And too many Disney movies

To see a hole in the ground