The Poetry Marathon

The Bravest Woman I’ve Ever Known

She was nearly a child bride,
Married on her 17th birthday, he was not quite 18.
A city girl, raised in the heart of the depression years
Learning to “make do” in every area of her life.
Brave, feisty, stunningly beautiful – her daddy’s thorn.

Two feet of snow on a February day could not deter
That old car from delivering it’s precious cargo to her
Handsome lover waiting at the church,
Tall, lean and eager, a survivor in the truest sense.
This would be the start of a life filled with challenges and angst.

Home from the war, husband now must find work –
Parenthood lay at their doorstep.
With their firstborn struggling for life at three months,
Life in the city became too difficult and a return to
Farm life, much as he hated it, was a must to survive.

Loving the country life, this young bride thrived in the
Love of sisters she never had. Brothers – not so much.
A woman of courage, with a fire in her eyes when
The world around her put she and her child in danger.
She’d do what was necessary to feed and warm them.

That determination and fire became her hallmark
As she and her somewhat wild man went on to build
A legacy and a family of six offspring.
Marriage that lasts fifty-three years isn’t always golden,
Theirs was no exception.

There is so much more to tell, but there comes another day.
My purpose on this page is merely to humbly say
I’m proud to be her daughter, and gratitude seems too little
a word to honor this, my mother.
She’s 87 now and he’s gone on ahead, but missing dad seems lesser now,
She’s my hero yet.

I love you Mom, thank you for the sacrifices you made along the way.

Dedicated to Jeanette Ryan – a woman of true grit and substance.

10 a poem of praise

This Summer

I cried tears of joy I heard the news. I had prayed every day, had worked toward it to make it happen..every day.

Without You, dearest Lord, I would not have gotten the opportunity of a Lifetime. Not only did You

Give me an internship…but You also gave me something that You knew I was lacking.

 

You knew I had not forgiven my past tormentors. You knew that I was still..close-minded

Towards people with blue eyes and blond hair.

For my past experiences as a 10 year-old biracial female had left a few unhealed scars.

 

And so you placed me, dearest Lord, in an environment where I was forced to confront my fears. You helped me to see clearly, how it was I who still desperately wanted to fit in with a group of people who would never walk a mile in my shoes…and You used this as an opportunity to remind me that though as hard as I try to fit it, I was born to stand out.

 

Thank You Lord, for giving me this summer.

Sustenance and. Experience I will take with me wherever I go. And the lesson that I will catch more flies with honey than vinegar. I’ve learned the politics of the workplace, and I will never forget them.

 

Thank You God, for not letting me break. Though I never let them see my tears, I know that you counted every one, and you are my ears when no one else seems to hear me, not even myself.

 

Thank You God, for giving me this summer.

Dancing perplexius

They say that people live a mere 100 miles away

From where they grew up.

I can hardly understand it.

We summer in the midwest

We winter in Mexico

Without fail

You haven’t lived until you’ve seen

The flashes in between of green and blue

And the rainbow of beige in the desert

A flicker of orange and black at the edges of your visions.

The only way to live.

The only way to call home.

On the Outside; A Choice?

The comfort of a bed
The warmth of a blanket
Clean water
Hot food
Shelter from the elements
Save from that of surprise
Imagine mine, when I found myself out here
Where the pavement and the mattress are of the same cloth
Double woven asphalt with a hint of Goodyear
Now when momma said, “Don’t you go off and do nothin’ stupid.”
Maybe I should have asked her to be more specific
And maybe not sound quite so insipid
Maybe I’d have been more vigilant
And not so quick to make with the first one I came across
I won’t say it was anyone’s folly, not at all
Yet, there’s a certain sense of injustice
One I cannot shake
For all attempts and purposes
This world has no break
To give or have or even get
Someone is almost always out for just them
Unhappy, and unsatisfied
Even all is what they got
Yet I am here
In this place
Of concrete and asphalt
Scraping for just enough to get by
All the while feeling the wind
Of the elite getting ahead

I’ll not be judgmental of those above
They paved their ways in the way they knew of
While I, of lesser mind, wiled away my time
On life and happiness and being free
Of choosing between their life and mine
Sure it’s not the upper tier
I may not be accepted in the upper echelon
Nor viewed to be redeemable by my own kin
I know I have purpose and worth
A lesson, perhaps
Maybe a cautionary word
Take what you may from these lines I have writ
Everything costs something
But only you can deem the worth

Oh, only the Gilmores!

Who hosts a dinner each Friday night,

expecting her daughter to keep quiet?

which grandmother, mother, granddaughter do I

run to when I need an escape from my life?

 

Oh, only the Gilmores!

 

Whose blood is comprised of mostly coffee?

Who dates a teenage trouble making hottie?

Who has a best friend whose stove caught on fire?

And who has a roommate who attacks if you surprise her?

 

Oh, only the Gilmores!

 

Who takes a teen mag quiz, finds out he’s an Autumn?

Who takes his daughter’s fiancée out golfing?

Who has a fiancée who won’t stop talking

about her eating junk food, but he’s kinda joshin?

 

Oh, only the Gilmores!

 

Who will delight us with magic again soon?

What little town will we see under the moon?

We’ve got winter, and spring, and summer, and fall,

and back to Stars Hollow we’ll go, one and all.

 

To commemorate such a momentous occasion

we must make sure we show our extreme elation!

To everyone out there, to every nation!

Can you tell me the family of whom I’m singing praises?

 

Oy with the poodles, already!  I say.

Let’s all get ready for Gilmore revival day!

 

Why?  Because it’s the Gilmores!

i want to lose mine in yours

i want to lose mine in yours

hands hold shudder, force in a fist.
hold air & indecision, cradle blade & flower.
hands tight with work & wear. they
hold you.
they hold desire.
hold in hand & heart
the cast of seedling warmth.
hands curled inward with the steadiness
of blood-drip, the marrow of youth,
the music of a nervous system. hands
clasped & tucked away from shiver,
clammy with nervousness.
play ball. fingers twisted around pen.
hands hold healing, the kiss of fingers
dancing on skin, &
the words you cannot with tongue
or lips
or eyes.

11 // red salt

1am
stood in the take out
eating shit food
at least we’ve got red salt

oh please give us more

2am
diet coke just isn’t
cutting it for you
at least we’ve got red salt

got you hooked

3am
rub it into your gums
let it consume you
at least we’ve got red salt

taste it

4am
that dopamine release
if only we knew
at least we’ve got red salt

you ain’t shaking this one baby

Persona Poem

I dance with their rules,

give them a spin just long enough

to get by.

To earn a buck,

I’ll do what they say.

But stay too long,

and you’re infiltrated.

You start thinking in khaki.

Your polo shirt collar

gets ’round your mind.

 

My mind is me.

There are worlds in there,

worlds that sing–

call and response–

with everything I see.

So I just keep seeing.

Like a turtle,

I carry my home with me–

only inside.

 

SCRO 4 pm

And the 11th panel. If you click once, and again, you can see it in close-up.