19~21
cover me
in dewy grey fur
like her
lick the snowdrops
from my belly
(i brought you a mouse today)
The poison tree by William Blake
I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath and my wrath did end,
I was angry with my for:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.
And I watered it in fears
Night and morning with my tears;
I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright;
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew it was mine,
And into my garden stole
When the night had veiled the pole:
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.
The stillness of the body if my foe
Should have brought my body to glow
Had it been sowed with a conscience
That was not covetous like mine.
How much I long see him back
But life once gone never come back.
Why did U sow the seed of anger
That charred both of us together.
I never wanted him to live
Till the time he was alive
Because anger was right there in my mind
Gruelling what was suppose to bind.
Now I regret my poisonous anger most
That took my friend so close
Only because I refused him to respect
More than my ego divine.
Good times
Telling stories
of the adventures I had
years ago
reminded me of the years
i have behind me
And I remind myself
of how many years I have ahead of me
and those good times only seem like a small collection
of what is yet to come
I Found You P2 (poem #21)
We have reached it
The stepping stone
Our future is all that awaits us
And our future is all that scares us
I know this is frightening
I am quivering just as you
Yet way deep down
When I look at you
I know our love is true
It scares me more
The thought of losing you
Then looking toward the future
Because life without you
At this point would be no life at all
I couldn’t stand to lose you
You’re my person
My best friend
The one my heart longs for
We sing together
In perfect harmony
The love that God has bestowed in us
I can’t believe this is happening
I am so beyond blessed
I finally found it
What I’ve been praying for
I finally found him
The one my soul sings for
I found you
And I won’t ever let you go
Balance
Balance
Corpus Cristi is tomorrow, noon on the dot.
Church bells will chime, ringing in people who will flood
the pews and spill into the aisle, standing room
only. I rub my eyes and blink real hard, making
the bright lights blur. Stayed up all night writing
poems that wouldn’t leave my head, imprinted
on my heart. I stare at the marble floor, tracing
the little rocks with my eyes, trying not to fall
asleep, the homily’s words just a buzz in my ear,
an echo in my heart that I fail to hear.
Like Rumplestiltskin’s Daughter
When you were a little girl you had no quarrels with the world. Life seemed so much simpler then in the warm embrace of family and friends. But over time life disappointed. The truth you’d known became disjointed. The trust you’d had had been betrayed and you have suffered since that day. I hope you know that you belong. That in facing your struggles you’ve learned to be strong. You’re now teaching others some lessons you've learned. You're turning your pain into good in the world.
21 – My Marathon Coach, a freeform haiku
He stays up with me. Can I rub your hands, Gramma? You are almost there.
Tyson (A Tanka Poem, Hour Twenty One)
Tyson
(Yes, he was a Boxer!)
My gentle giant,
Ninety pounds of fun and fur,
You kept me laughing.
Your silly smile soothed my soul.
You left pawprints on my heart.
(A tanka is a five line poem with the syllable count 5/7/5/7/7. This poem was inspired by the Hour 21 prompt to write about an animal.)
Erasure (2019 Poem 20)
Erasure of “The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock” by T.S. Eliot
Let us go then, you and I
The evening is spread out against the sky
To lead you to an overwhelming question
Do I dare
Disturb the universe
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons
So how should I presume
The afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed
I am no prophet
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker
And in short, I was afraid
Would it have been worth while
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it towards some overwhelming question
I grow old … I grow old …
And walk upon the beach
I have heard the mermaids singing
I do not think that they will sing to me
“The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T.S. Eliot