In plain sight
i suppress parts of myself
to make others comfortable
to feel included
to be accepted
who am I anyway?
outside of what I withhold within
Or suppress outwardly
I wish I felt comfortable facing the world.
I just don’t know anymore….
The mortgaged heart
1
Somehow I’ve never thought to say anything
it’s hard to complain
when the terms have never been disclosed
and you don’t know who holds the note
or when it’s supposed to come due
I guess I’ve always figured the payments
will eventually get to the right person
2
Is every project a ‘fixer-upper’?
How much labour should we expect to put in?
3
I’ve given it away before
thinking the arrangement was permanent
Every deal breaks eventually
4
Am I mistaken in thinking
that mine was built for two
when it’s really just a room for rent?
5
I should stop my yammering
and get ready for the open house
I’m hoping to find a buyer this time
(22 June 2019, Hour Nine)
9. 200 up!
9. 200 UP!
Coinciding with the cricket world cup
this poem marks my 200 up!
With this poem, a milestone.
200th poem in a marathon.!
20 and some odd years,
I began to write with trepidation and sometimes, fears.
Each poem of mine, is a work I cherish,
since writing poetry is a passion , I relish.
Poetry has taught me , strength and discipline to find.
To flex the build and flex the muscle of my mind.
Through happiness and depression,
writing poetry , my solace and companion.
Inspiration , like my pen, is not dry!
Towards another double century, I am going to try!
My
Just Like San Simeon Blues
The cancer center housing is in an area famous for its transformation by the high-tech industry from a family neighborhood to soulless acres of high-rises. I became addicted to my daily walks there, hoping to find visually interesting details to capture with my cell phone camera.
One day, I walked a block east from my usual route, and was startled to see steady streams of people entering into a wooded area close to the freeway. Could there be a park in the area? The mature evergreens made a stark contrast to the spindly street trees on other blocks.
Pedestrians in the rest of the neighborhood were relatively scarce, too, on the weekends, even though those high-rises must have housed many thousands of young workers. But here were these ant-like lines of people, purposefully heading towards this green mecca. I followed them in, expecting to see a familiar park info bulletin board. A few yards within the green enclosure, I discovered an REI sign.
I’d stumbled upon the mother ship! I’ve lived in two other cities with REI stores, but this one, with its designed waterways and landscaped forest surroundings, and its soaring wooden architecture inside, was truly fit for an emperor of recreational equipment, inc.
I didn’t linger. Christmas shoppers were thronging the flannel shirt aisles, and I was avoiding exposure to germs for my husband’s sake. I was happy enough that I’d happened upon this faux-rustic capitalist castle, reminiscent of William Randolph Hearst’s.
Normal People
Take us on your ride, Sally. What does that mean? What normal people have you ever seen? Maybe I over anticipate what you'll say. Maybe your characters will live in a normal way. They'll have joys and pains, sunshine and rain And when it's all said and done, they'll be imperfect but sane. jj2019 2019 Poetry Marathon
Holy Bible
I speak in not words, thoughts can be heard only by the thinker. A work of ‘in groups’ to write a story. A poets description of past life expressed through a love that a silent man has taught. Walking.
A bibliography. The riddles in writing are of but songs we sing. Day unto day, all whiles of the night. A whisper of yesterday and a hope of tomorrow. Dance.
A book of rules; good ideas. God is Good. The Book is left to interpretation. One lesson of truth from this book, Gratitude.
For this I Thank You
What wildness is this
This is the part of me
that hates my everyday pleasing
good-girl self and wants
to shake her and
scream at her:
“Wake up! Wake up!
The Wildness awaits and time
is running short.”
Hour 9 – The Fifth Season
That’s preposterous
Everyone knows that there are only four
I can name them for you
Winter
Spring
Summer
and Fall
That is all
It’s real
What would the weather be like, then?
The weather does not matter
It is like all of those you’ve named
and none of them
at once
a season out of time
It is the connective tissue
the intricate knitting that holds the
whole thing together
the spoke and the wheel
How can you know?
Because of the sudden teeming on my skin
the alertness of the hairs at the back of my neck
Because my totality cannot be hewn
down into only four parts
I know it is true because of the contradictions
I am able to contain
The Lie that Defines (Hour 8)
She had always waited for her father to come home,
her mother to acknowledge her scars,
herself to find the courage she needed to get clean.
The lies always came in threes: the car was never stolen,
the pills are all accounted for,
this would be the last time.
And her last time came too soon, without a chance to make amends.
Story Time
Under the bridge,
Beside the river,
The penniless kids play using a stick for a king’s sword
While the mother goes around collecting all she can hoard
Under the bridge,
Beside the river,
A stranger from the rotten vegetable market join them for dinner
No food, no clothes, but could this bearded man be their breadwinner?
Under the bridge,
Beside the river,
He takes the sweet, poor kids around Paris and shows them the city
They enter a shop, look around, but the security shows them no pity
Under the bridge,
Beside the river,
The old man gets a job and promises to provide for the kids like a father
The mother doesn’t want him near them and considers him to be a bother
Under the bridge,
Beside the river,
The weathered man saves the young, war-torn family from a frosty night
The family accept his as one of their own, their guardian, their white knight.