24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
That room?
It’s the special room.
Technically, it’s the dining room
But no one dines there.
See that cabinet?
It has China in it!
Only a piece of China, of course.
The entire country can’t fit in that cabinet.
See the light blue carpet?
So pretty, right!?
See this dark brown spot?
This is one of the reasons we aren’t allowed in here.
Who is allowed in here?
Not sure. Maybe just Mommy?
The stages for my dreams are
sometimes unfamiliar, but mostly
places that I know. A flood plain
by an old bike path, a bus route I used to take,
a bus depot I used to frequent, my grandma’s
house, my uncle’s house, a grocery store
or two. Because apparently my dreams are humdrum.
They want nothing more in sleep than they do in life;
to go shopping and deciding which sweet
treat to get and working out the best
sale price in the produce aisle.
Missing busses,
always missing busses every damn time.
Missing busses, missing stops, and transferring to
the wrong train.
My favorite dreams are the ones where I go running.
I run
to a place that is familiar
in dream state,
but when I awake I’m unsure of exactly where it is,
part of the path by my old Niagara house
and part of the path my my old school
and always by a dead end and sometimes I wonder
if the places I dream are just the ghosts
of the places they once were. As if the earth has muscle memory and that
is what it wants me to see while I’m dreaming.
So I continue deciding, searching, and deciding in my dreams
as if there’s any hope for me doing those things in my awake life.
That is if that is not a dream as well.
Pot full of colour;
a gift of love and laughter –
may the joy spread
Wake up and welcome!
Come in to renew.
This is a safe place
To say what’s important to say.
Non-judgemental and empathetic friends,
Spend lonely hours of the night
Talking, laughing
Sharing, caring
Painting word pictures,
With every key stroke made.
Beautifully smart people –
Talented, too.
So talented.
The Some Poets messenger group.
A chat room of support, commeraderie
Laughter and tears.
Setting out- the destination was planned
The route was decided
The stops were set
And the tank was full
Along the way there was a flat tire
A thunderstorm with rain so hard
That we had to pull over for awhile
Adjusting the plan was inevitable
We crossed over lines, counties and states
As we continued down the long stretches of road
The stops no longer lined up with the time table
And the course was rerouted once again
As we journeyed further we decided
That the present location was perfect
And maybe where we planned to go
Had never been the ideal destination
The day is dawning
A new beginning awaits
Don’t you worry
Keep the faith.
copyright 2016 Roxann A Harvey
the new coat of paint helped
what did Jessica call it? tidal wave?
its blue, light blue, with a teal accent wall at the entrance
Judy is working on putting up sheers in the doorway
to blot the light so I don’t get migraines
I have a big girl desk now,
the old one was a child’s desk
a big child, but a child’s desk
and my big girl desk is turned so instead of facing the wall in the back corner
I’m facing the people who arrive,
no one puts Teri in the corner
anymore.
but the big thing that changed
is that after fifteen months
I finally chose
not
to be subordinate to the empty chair in the office
the place he used to sit
used to type
used to be
used to send all those e-mails from
the chair everyone knows is empty now
that chair
I no longer will be
subordinate to.
because that chair is empty
and my chair has me
and I am enough.
Poem no. 23: Recovery Time
Sometimes the day casually raked its claws down her
And they did not understand
That she would withdraw
To silence and to peace
Waiting for the wounds to heal.
© Anne McMaster 2016
stroking
and standing
in the half~light
soft voice man
your hands
wandering
pause
and touch
stroke
and pause
would I could purr like that
your gaze intense
your hands
alive
all over her
i slowly blink
extending a paw
your way
