Expectations
I spent my childhood on a stage
refining the art of attention
for your satisfaction
Now I’ve got no strings to pull me
and seem to have forgotten
how to scream with my own voice
(Hour 2)
Hour Two: Me at Ten
Ten Years Old
Dad has been dead for two years now
as my ten-year-old brain
struggles to understand
what death is.
I imagine I see him sometimes
on the street, walking briskly
carrying a folded newspaper,
hiding his face from us.
Why did he leave us?
Something I did?
My little brain can barely
comprehend life,
let alone death?
Dying?
What the hell is that?
He’s gone, and two years later
I still can’t understand why.
I miss his unshaven cheeks
scratching me when he hugs me,
his eyes smiling into mine.
He is gone from this world
yet his presence remains
hints of another life
another existence
beyond my
understanding.
Odine’s curse
All I did was tuck my honey in
He’d wait patiently under the duvet
I’d do my face routine
Then love’s wind will swing ‘nd sway
His co-worker always called late at night
I know my baby is a hardworker
But doing it till late hours just isn’t right
I’d answer and stop this forever
But to hear another call my honey- bunny
Pierced my heart like a spear would
She said my baby is her sweetie
Heavens pray tell why she could
Beating him to stupor
Was a tip of the berg
I was bound to do more
If I hadn’t met him dead on the bed
You may call it karma
But to me Odine came for vengeance
The sthetoscope sir called it sleep apnea
So many diagnosis but no reappearance
He’s gone!
Had he been here
He’d never have said sorry
He’d rather term me a shrew
His son?
That’s my only fear
But don’t you worry
I’ll be the strongest dad he ever knew!
Please call me a witch
A wicked and wretched pretender
You must insult to your fill
Call me one who carries charm in her purse
Lest your supposed conscience begins to itch.
Honestly I am a believer
But still…
I say ‘ Blessed be Odine’s curse’!
Hour 2: A Decade Ago
Ten years ago, I still looked at the world
As a scary place, full of fearful surprises.
Ten years ago, I saw the world
With eyes that yearned to find some light.
Ten years ago, I began to believe
That there was goodness around
If I only took the time to look
Ten years ago, I began to envision
A world where I could be
Me.
prompt 2 ~ 10 years ago
Curveballs
the horizon rosy
finally a grandchild
scanning the bright sky
unaware that life throws curveballs
I never liked baseball
too static
which is part of my horizon
but not this moment
where a yellow brick road
stretches into blue mountains
and all that lies ahead
is misty promise
a child a new beginning light
and a curveball ~
Behind Closed Doors
cw: abuse coached in metaphor, similar body horror to the previous poem
Behind close doors, it comes out –
all those things you never show
to anyone but the canary,
turned useless from a lack of voice.
After all, nobody would believe it,
and it’s your canary, so it’s your right:
to pluck out every feather in its wings,
and store it in a too-tight cage
and tell it that it’s all its fault.
You wouldn’t hurt it if it
wasn’t such a failure, wasn’t so bad;
you try so hard, you see,
but it just brings out
all the worst in you.
And the canary wants to scream,
but all the gas and smoke ruined it.
So when you rip out its heart
and tell it to look you in the eyes
while you devour all its innocence,
it says nothing.
Hour 2, Poem 2
Something lost,
something found
Oh well, that’s life..
Why was it not just last year that
I found a job
But lost all time
Found stability
But lost spontaneity
Found a niche
But lost warmth of home
Found acceptance
But lost individuality
Found a way to live
But the will..
Oh well!
Something lost, something found…
Ain’t that life?
two: Which Tree
The tree has no idea
Who parked underneath it
What birds perched on top
Which ones violated the car parked underneath it
The tree doesn’t know who left the empty burger wrapper on the curb,
Why the cracked concrete had to be replaced and repaired with a new no parking sign
Tree doesn’t care about the peeing g dog as long as it’s over there
The tree could jade a sasquatch in plain sight as long as the tree is as inconspicuous in plain sight
The tree does not notice you not noticing the tree…
Until
It does
#1 inspired by Robert Frost The Road Not taken
I took the one
less traveled
because it’s always new.
Every day opportunities vary
making excitement ensue.
What I saw yesterday
is gone and different today.
The path still there
calling me to explore.