24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Brute force winds
rip leaves from branches
trees bow and sway
and she stands, stoic
strong-faced
proudly, she walks through
the storm
her head held high,
does not bow against the wind
Her bones quake with each thunderclap
her heartbeat jumps with each lightening strike
a war waged within, against herself
hidden beneath the facade
of strength
Racing against time and myself to complete
promised deliverables with enough time to take hold,
enough care to survive, enough space to grow
and expand into meaningful connection
I think of the daughter who plans
each moment of her classroom day, goals
and activities devised to stretch young minds,
teach them to think, link facts to reach meaning; and the other
her focused attention on the dog before her,
each practiced movement precise, intentioned,
a sequence learned like a dance, its results beauty
and satisfied clients; and how my son yearns
for distraction when he contemplates
the task at hand, to complete credentials
to plan a meaningful future for himself and family.
What is it about our relationship to time,
to process and ultimately produce
that makes us tick with different beats,
move forward and back within the pendulum
of time, measured or not, and yet succeed?
Like Penelope, I unweave my stitches
again and again, as if I did not want to finish
the project so eagerly begun. And yet
I have learned, it’s important to work well;
not to be free of mistakes – after all,
the flaw proves the humanity, the meaning –
but because there is joy in a job well done
and lessons to be learned along the way.
swb
To go from the men all paused when you walk into the room
to menopause – WOW
just happened too damned fast
being assaulted by unpredictable hot flashes jumping on you without permission
will make you dread this unavoidable condition
Or you can view it as an inevitable gift
WTF, you maybe inclined to say
Meaning that you got to live long enough to experience it
It’s apart of life and you got to graduate to another stage
and you get to turn another page in the book of the living
Your story is still being written
Pain
Why does it interfere
when I’m having the most fun
An uninvited guest
I can’t throw out
and be done
Pain
becomes a part of life
every day interrupting activities
Why?!
As I write this
I’m yelling the words in my head
Be done
Be gone
You are not welcome here
So now you look at me like you never knew
How could you not?
I speak the way I’ve always spoken
Dress and walk and posture the same
I saw the same affections as ever
There has been no reason to question me, never
You can’t redefine what I feel inside
Just because you choose now to see me
I believe what I believe, understand what’s true to me, cast away what does not fit
My truth, I walk – live – breathe it
You get no say in who I am or am not
jj2017
Larger than life
bubbling over with ambition
full of love
and wanting to see the beauty in life.
Honest and descisive
with strong ethical ties.
Outside observers see over my head
looking for exterior beauty.
Not noticing the finely honed character
in front of their faces.
They miss the truth and embrace the fiction.
wander the aisles
watch you think about,
where you want to be and why
you worry and whine
you smile and beam
you know what you want
you’re ready to leave
Tuberous veins dig deep into mud
clinging with hope for just a chance
once roots take hold, don’t let go
reaching up from darkness
stems snake sunward, grow
reaching surface
beauty buds,
Lotus
blooms
Nonet
shadows the in what's see you can
Out of the corner of your eye you see them there
Mirror the in dancing shapes
The shadows wait for us in the mirror
beyond own our World
Living eternal, tied to the glass
found never is Death
Life is a reflection
time to time from in looks Grim the
And sees his own face
soul the of the mirror the are eyes the
His soul long since passed