Morning
First you awaken.
The day paints its hope on you
on the heart’s canvas.
Jennifer Pratt-Walter
6/22/2019
Dreams
He tried not to disturb her sleep from mountains and rivers away
so he didn’t call
but she heard him anyway.
in a dream…
He wanted a kiss but didn’t press
so she called him
time makes no difference
hearts know no distance
and magic is only a breath away
The Whispering Kiss (Hour 1)
You walked in like a whisper,
like fireflies in the day, until the sun set without warning.
And I suddenly saw all that could be
in a world that I wish was meant for me.
Some punches to the gut can’t be cheated.
The truth, a wall I ran straight through,
only to see you.
Your face behind a moving screen of water,
like seeing a memory from another life that should be.
Our breath so easy, laughter so light,
your hand in mine, a natural fit.
You’re the golden hour of every day,
light raining down in showers of amber warmth.
We were drawn together years ago,
but I didn’t realize it until too late.
My guard held true, so I could protect you, too.
I see your face every day, within the abyss of dreams and thoughts.
In another life, perhaps we are a reality.
Paths diverge and paths are made straight.
If time had been different, perhaps our paths would’ve become one.
Time has made its decision; we weren’t meant to be.
A fiery cloak wrapped around my heart, bidding you adieu.
Sending you a whispering kiss as you say, I do.
Shoulders Back
Shoulders back, chin out, neck long.
Breasts out shouting to the world,
“I am here. Look at me!”
Long neck highlighting a feminine jaw and cheekbones
So instead,
Shoulders hunched and chin down.
Breasts hidden among the folds of fabric,
“I’m hiding. Shhh.”
Neck hunched over. Eyes looking at the ground.
But men do not walk like that,
So instead,
Shoulders back, chin out, neck long.
Tests
Life is a test from start to finish
from the day you are born
to the final flourish
how long is the baby
how much does it weigh
in what percentile does it lay
This is the start
it does not end
the years go by
new tests append
when do you speak
when do you walk
do you do more than squawk
In school there are many
that you will take
they tell your teachers
what progress you make
and each test you take
adds another post to the fence you make
We all build a fence
a fence that defines
the person we make
with all the tests we leave in our wake
It doesn’t stop when we are an adult
each person we meet tests us, and we they
yes, it is true don’t you see
we test and test and are never free
we test for friends, and jobs, and love
we look for things that fit like a glove
And when old age approaches us
the tests foresees what our freedom be
the blood test the heart test, how many tests there are
each test may lead to your final cigar
Yes, tests follow us throughout our lives
from birth to death whether we want or not
tests guide us or fence us and fill us with doubt
and sometimes provide up with clout
whatever the case you will see
that tests never end till the end of thee.
TWO
When I was two, I learned to read,
In my hands, I always carried a book.
I remember the words, “Growing like a weed”
Even though my mother was an awful cook.
I spent weeks in the hospital, unexplainably sick
Till they found I was allergic to milk.
So the things I ate weren’t for me to pick,
No dairy, no cheese, no ice cream or that ilk.
I must have been happy, I don’t recall bad
My Mema loved and spoiled me
I don’t remember even seeing my Dad,
What’s to be, they say will be.
My mother took me to a doctor because she said I read too much.
He told her to let me be, it was she who was out of touch.
Poem #2
Endless Dreams
On a star-filled night
Countless times
I failed to count
Mesmerized
In awe of their beauty
Their warmth
I could feel from
Millions of light-years ago
Safe distance, I must say
Admirable but I wouldn’t
Want to burn so.
I am many things … but wish I were more
I am courageous.
In my mind, I am a super hero. When I become fearful, I fall to earth.
A human. Being. But am I?
I am flawed.
In my body. In my way of thinking. I wear my flaws like designer jewels.
In my mind, I waltz with confidence.
But in my body, I drag and limp to the invisible finish line.
I am tired.
Of thinking of cool, innovative ideas.
Of competing. With others. With myself.
So I shuffle with the masses and berate myself, which does not add fuel to the super human being lost inside. Will she ever find her way out?
I am rebellious.
But chose the most obvious path. Rebel without a worthy cause?
Is that even a rebel?
Is this a metaphor?
Why can’t I just cheer choosing and taking action instead of face plant in my phone, not facing reality. Planting more seeds of worry.
I am unoriginal.
As evidenced by this boring choice of starting with I am.
So much for subtlety.
I am. Why oh why can’t that be enough?
Hour 1: I Am
I am searching for my place
My home in the universe
I am searching for inspiration
My grand idea that’s waiting
I am searching for love
My rock to keep me grounded
I am searching for joy
My sunshine when there’s no sun
i am searching for peace
My calm when the world storms
I am searching for my place
My home in the universe
So here is my hour 1 poem. I don’t know that I like the last line but I can revise it later as needed.
Glassy-Winged Sharpshooter
Glassy-Winged Sharpshooter
Magical dragon easing translucent wings
On warm summer breezes
Allowing flora to breath while
Puffs of seeds whisper
But alas the winged sharpshooter
Holds little beauty bestowed
With dark beetle body
Suggesting an awkward dance
Without reverence for gardens
This leafhopper offers sticky goo
Painted on sweet red grapes
To ruin the Green Man’s wine
Tobe TT #1