Patchwork Prose and Verse
I was mad since you
were late so I fed turtles
all your marshmallows
no roasting for you
our discussion was our campfire
spark, flame, sizzle, blaze
they smiled and thanked me
reminded me to tell you
to keep slowing down.
when I’m birdwatching
and you’re nodding
off in the chair
next to me on
our campsite,
me: thrilled in
a composed way
behind my binoculars
and you with
holes in your socks
broken-breath quiet snores
I wonder ~
are we those old
people we’ve
always known
we’d become
one day?
Blind Rage Rispetto
such blind rage overtakes me on a thought
these triggers self-combust in open flame
one moment I’m quite civil, next I’m not
and all the same, I know you’re not to blame
I’m not sure how to turn things back around
to compromise and find some common ground
to put the world back on an even keel
……until I try to feel how you must feel
Invitation
I was once
invited to a
wedding
but I saw
the truth
of that
invitation
and
declined
without hesitation
without gift
without regret
without excuse
Reduced Speed Ahead
crave different days
not working deadline-driven
not governed by clocks
seems all or nothing
drowning in a swift riptide
too tired to love life
sacrificing hearts
of days just to earn a wage
what’s a better way?
To commemorate Yom HaShoah, Holocaust Remembrance Day, I’ve written a reverse etheree.
To the hell of a concentration camp
To the death showers of Zyklon B
To separated families
To long lost baby shoes
To Hitler’s nightmare
To starvation
To ghettos
To hate
I
Am
From love
From living
From just like you
From family meals
From falling deep in love
From dreams and aspirations
From the freedom to live and choose
From the tribe of Father Abraham
From my ancestors’ strong family tree
we could take lessons
from chickens in a dust bath
shaking it all off
instead dwell in mud
wallowing unforgiveness
pig kin bickering
get out of the mire
unstuck from the yucky muck
before it’s too late!
*inspired by a recent sermon heard on YouTube
The Main Character
he seeks center stage
he knows his lines, his music
his orchestration
but music changes
suddenly the stage lights dim
spotlights shift elsewhere
Other Sunrises
if we have
glorious sunrises
here on earth
are there billions
of
galaxies
with other sunrises?
and how breathtaking
are they?
*********
p.s. It’s May 1. Have you said, “rabbit, rabbit?” yet on the first? Here’s to a great month, plus a picture of my backyard rabbit named Rabbit Rabbit.
Today we wrap up #VerseLove 2024 at http://www.ethicalela.com with a prompt from Dr. Sarah Donovan, inviting us to choose a favorite prompt from the month and write another poem on that same prompt. I chose Stacey Joy’s In Our Mama’s Kitchens and Fran Haley’s The First Time. A very special thanks to Sarah Donovan and to Two Writing Teachers for giving us a space to write and grow and encourage each other. I look back as a preacher’s kid growing up in a household where one truly never knew which way the ball was coming, and today’s poem takes me back to the first time I knew I needed to hold on tight.
Pastorium Perils
late summer 1971
in rural Reynolds, Georgia
the land of peach trees
in their time of ripeness
Mama was pregnant with
my baby brother and
we were in the den
Mama Daddy and me
when
~~whoosh~~
in through the kitchen door
a naked girl with
long wet hair
streaked through
our house holding a towel
screaming all the way
down the hall
to my parents’ bedroom
locking the door
on her heels her stepdad
pounding and screaming
threatening her life
I recognized them from church
I was five
the girl was a teenager
(with flapping boobs
……and hair….down there?)
her stepdad was drunk
my mother clutched me
carried me like a football
into my room
locked the door
then ran through
the connecting bathroom
I followed, fearful
to stay alone
crawled under their bed
Mama found the girl
huddled in the bottom
of their closet
shaking
crying uncontrollably
wailing for help
Mama comforted her
clothed her
sat on the bed
holding her
called the cops
we listened
in fear for Dad
as we waited
those slurred screams
of fury
are seared
into my memory forever
she comes with me
or I’ll go get
my ruiner
and ruin you
then more voices,
the crash of a lamp
furniture slamming
handcuffs, arrest,
police report
one prominent
family in ruins
exposed
it was the first time
I knew
growing up a preacher’s
kid would bring
a whole cast of
characters always calling
mostly clothed
it was the first time
I saw a naked teenager
running for her life
Common Threads 