The Mint-Lady
The fast food restaurant stands on the corner
Just off to the right from the lonely exit.
The old lady who works there has white hair.
She tucks those long, curly, fly-away strings
Under her black baseball cap as
She cleans the untouched, unused, and unvisited
Surfaces of tables and chairs.
Excitement rises in her heart when
A young family enters
Happily and hungry,
To stay awhile.
Waiting by the trash bin,
She picks up her brown
Wicker basket that she brings from
Home each day.
Wrapped mints lie in anticipation to be
Accepted and enjoyed after meals.
Her glasses reflect each
Hungry traveler’s face
As she happily approaches.
She smiles and a sweet voice reaches out
From among the Solitude,
“Take a mint for the road?”
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Piggy-back
Piggy-Back
My toddler’s feet are size seven.
So tiny, plump, smooth.
When I lift him up
From the wet sandbox,
Muddy wood chips
Sprinkle the grass
As I swing him on my back.
Small fingers sift my hair
Rather than hold onto
My shoulders for
Balance.
He slips and
Starts to fall.
But I always catch him.
Back on top and
Balance
Made much stronger,
The green-vined exit,
Doesn’t seem much
Farther.
My toddler’s feet are size seven.
So tiny, plump, smooth.
When I lift him up
From the wet sandbox,
Muddy wood chips
Sprinkle the grass
As I swing him on my back.
Small fingers sift my hair
Rather than hold onto
My shoulders for
Balance.
He slips and
Starts to fall.
But I always catch him.
Back on top and
Balance
Made much stronger,
The green-vined exit,
Doesn’t seem much
Farther.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Monday, November 9, 2009
Poetry 2005 - 2006
Created 7/3/05
Lament
If I’d held my tongue a little longer,
And used it to search him, and to know him,
Our life’s love would have been so much stronger,
And not tossed to and fro on waves so slim.
Now he walks as the Wanderer, quite lost,
Seeking and searching for something known not.
Inferno’s blaze stretches higher, the cost
Too high. Too high! The game plays as a plot.
The little one caught in the middle, sighs,
“What brings such hate and what takes him away?”
The answers lie on the cold floor ‘neath cries,
Cries of mother begging father to stay.
The reasons obscure through the stinging slam
The door as he goes without thought nor Damn!
At Night
Twisting and turning, yearning and churning
Crawling and sulking, knowing not the end.
Shaking and quaking, learning and burning,
Questions swirling and twirling with no mend.
Running and looking, hiding, not finding.
Fixing and fixing and fixing non-stop.
The clock stops at five, no one is winding
It up to continue what was to drop.
No one is checking to further the time.
No one is trying to change what was lost.
The ticker has stopped and never will chime.
Yet, I lay here, love changed cold as the frost.
Where are the days when the sun’s rays glow bright,
Guided the living, love’s path paved in sight?
Questions
If the song in the firmament came forth,
And the melody brought sweetness of worth,
Would the angels, God’s glory, penetrate
His heart? Would love from memories create
What could have, should have demonstrated?
Can all forgiveness replace the traded?
Can the lies and deceit flutter away?
If not, then what is life, but prorated.
Will wrong be made right when from earth we go?
Or will we remain in the state that we show?
Does he know the right perspective in life,
When for selfish reasons he leaves his wife?
Does the grass grow so much thicker out there,
When the good road keeps going on from here?
Too Late
Where would the Son be without his Father?
Where would the trees be without a maker?
Where would the woman go for comfort sure,
If the husband drags her into manure?
What does the boy learn when the door slams shut?
Does he replay it later? Pounce and strut?
When a rooster pecks at so many hens,
Inevitable, he’ll leap from the pen.
Will the son find “dad” as mediocre,
Better than “dad” he becomes moreover.
Not searching beyond rainbows for treasure.
Not eyeing another for mere pleasure.
Do life’s treasures fly when the wind blows past?
Will your heart remind you of home at last?
Song of Hope
Around the corner, underneath a rock
There is no more pain, there is no more shock.
Relief from the blazes of Hades I’ll feel
Straight on the path, no where else will I reel.
Fresh as the morning breeze I awake,
From love’s lost labors, no more will I fake.
Crisp and new, the dew from the spring
Of Life refreshes and breathes new thinking.
Onward and upward the mountain; success!
There will be no stopping, no settling for less.
The strength and power that starts at the heart,
Will burn and energize the new life’s part.
Circle of life, survival the fittest,
The trophy is there, and there for the best.
Divorced
I still feel you.
If I can’t see you, and I’m working,
I’m ok, I forget.
But I can’t sit next to you and not remember.
I can’t see you and not want to touch you.
I can’t sense you and not be drawn to you.
I know you, yet I am continually presented with
Shadows.
Ghosts
If you ever wanted to know what
Your wife and son would feel if you were dead, I’m an
Expert, and so is your son.
You haunt me once a week on pick up and drop offs.
You are always there. At least with death it would be over.
With death, the shadows would be colorful and not colorless.
With death, you would have seemed glorified in honor,
But now you are only glorified in lies.
Haunt somewhere else. A piece of paper won’t set me free.
You are free because you chose to be free.
Now, you infringe yourself upon my life as a living ghost.
Without purpose, and wander
Whithersoever you please until you swoop down
To haunt again. You call it visitation.
I call it a nightmare.
Asleep
The dreams start with happiness,
Chocolate shakes, chocolate bars
Chocolate syrup.
Then the chocolate turns bitter and
The Sweetness decays, corrupts and confuses.
Lament
If I’d held my tongue a little longer,
And used it to search him, and to know him,
Our life’s love would have been so much stronger,
And not tossed to and fro on waves so slim.
Now he walks as the Wanderer, quite lost,
Seeking and searching for something known not.
Inferno’s blaze stretches higher, the cost
Too high. Too high! The game plays as a plot.
The little one caught in the middle, sighs,
“What brings such hate and what takes him away?”
The answers lie on the cold floor ‘neath cries,
Cries of mother begging father to stay.
The reasons obscure through the stinging slam
The door as he goes without thought nor Damn!
At Night
Twisting and turning, yearning and churning
Crawling and sulking, knowing not the end.
Shaking and quaking, learning and burning,
Questions swirling and twirling with no mend.
Running and looking, hiding, not finding.
Fixing and fixing and fixing non-stop.
The clock stops at five, no one is winding
It up to continue what was to drop.
No one is checking to further the time.
No one is trying to change what was lost.
The ticker has stopped and never will chime.
Yet, I lay here, love changed cold as the frost.
Where are the days when the sun’s rays glow bright,
Guided the living, love’s path paved in sight?
Questions
If the song in the firmament came forth,
And the melody brought sweetness of worth,
Would the angels, God’s glory, penetrate
His heart? Would love from memories create
What could have, should have demonstrated?
Can all forgiveness replace the traded?
Can the lies and deceit flutter away?
If not, then what is life, but prorated.
Will wrong be made right when from earth we go?
Or will we remain in the state that we show?
Does he know the right perspective in life,
When for selfish reasons he leaves his wife?
Does the grass grow so much thicker out there,
When the good road keeps going on from here?
Too Late
Where would the Son be without his Father?
Where would the trees be without a maker?
Where would the woman go for comfort sure,
If the husband drags her into manure?
What does the boy learn when the door slams shut?
Does he replay it later? Pounce and strut?
When a rooster pecks at so many hens,
Inevitable, he’ll leap from the pen.
Will the son find “dad” as mediocre,
Better than “dad” he becomes moreover.
Not searching beyond rainbows for treasure.
Not eyeing another for mere pleasure.
Do life’s treasures fly when the wind blows past?
Will your heart remind you of home at last?
Song of Hope
Around the corner, underneath a rock
There is no more pain, there is no more shock.
Relief from the blazes of Hades I’ll feel
Straight on the path, no where else will I reel.
Fresh as the morning breeze I awake,
From love’s lost labors, no more will I fake.
Crisp and new, the dew from the spring
Of Life refreshes and breathes new thinking.
Onward and upward the mountain; success!
There will be no stopping, no settling for less.
The strength and power that starts at the heart,
Will burn and energize the new life’s part.
Circle of life, survival the fittest,
The trophy is there, and there for the best.
Divorced
I still feel you.
If I can’t see you, and I’m working,
I’m ok, I forget.
But I can’t sit next to you and not remember.
I can’t see you and not want to touch you.
I can’t sense you and not be drawn to you.
I know you, yet I am continually presented with
Shadows.
Ghosts
If you ever wanted to know what
Your wife and son would feel if you were dead, I’m an
Expert, and so is your son.
You haunt me once a week on pick up and drop offs.
You are always there. At least with death it would be over.
With death, the shadows would be colorful and not colorless.
With death, you would have seemed glorified in honor,
But now you are only glorified in lies.
Haunt somewhere else. A piece of paper won’t set me free.
You are free because you chose to be free.
Now, you infringe yourself upon my life as a living ghost.
Without purpose, and wander
Whithersoever you please until you swoop down
To haunt again. You call it visitation.
I call it a nightmare.
Asleep
The dreams start with happiness,
Chocolate shakes, chocolate bars
Chocolate syrup.
Then the chocolate turns bitter and
The Sweetness decays, corrupts and confuses.
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