Letting Go

#1


As he lay dying
I had to let him go,
to accept the journey.
One cannot argue
with the only possibility.

#2


When she wanted to walk the
playground bridge by herself
without holding my hand.
I worried she would trip, slip,
fall into wood chips below.
Could happen so easily,
though she knew no fear.
It was hard to let go her hand,
but I had to let her go.

#3

Older daughter left home when
she was eighteen years old
because she could, wanted
to get away from me -- the
scourge of her life. Still in
high school she was legal adult.
I could not convince her to stay.
I was angry, concerned, sad,
cried for days, eventually let
go emotionally, no other option
when one leaves in this way.
I hardened myself to the loss,
necessary in order to stop tears,
went on with life, didn't know if
I would ever see her again. But
eventually it changed. What
I had once let go of returned
to me one hundred fold when
she had children of her own
and came to understand.
We are close now, closer
than we ever dreamed we'd be.
Sometimes one has to let go
for a while before someone
eventually makes their way back.

Suddenly

Suddenly
after long and cold
winter left
spring appeared
I feel renewed
again, though
one year older.


Suddenly
I realized it is not
about what others do
but how I let it
affect me.


Suddenly
I knew what love was
for the very first time
in my life. Better
late than never
to know true love.

Suddenly
I realized two small dogs
had claimed my heart
as few humans have.

Suddenly I really
appreciated what it is like
to be two years old and
to be able to proclaim
to the world that one
can do it oneself!

Suddenly I felt sad
that April was almost over
that there would be no more
poetry prompts until November
and then it would be autumn
leading to winter and I didn't
want to wish time to pass.

Suddenly I woke up and found
myself to be an age I never
pictured I'd be, still find it hard
to realize I am and don't feel.
How did I become grandmother
when I still feel so young?

End of the Line

End of the Line

I'm at the end of my line,
no more words to write today.
I've said all I have to say.

If someone doesn't appreciate
my words thus far, I can
say nothing new tonight.

If my words resonate with
no one, I won't be offended.
I'll write anyway, no apology.

I don't need accolades,
just need to know that
I've written poetry my way.

3 Hopeful / Hopeless Poems

Hope 1

I awaken to the rising sun
cloudless sky, chirp of birds
How can I not be hopeful it
will be a very good day.


Hope 2

I tell myself day after day, month
after month, year after year research
will find a cure for Parkinson's in
her lifetime. Very soon. It's on
the horizon now. I have to believe
this, so does she. I am hopeful.
I must be. There is no alternative.


Hopeless No More

Don't ask me to tell you how to get
somewhere or to remember the way back
after I've been there only once. Don't ask
me what street to turn, type of building on
the corner, whether you should drive
east or west. Don't insist I be the one
to inquire in a service station about a route
and then remember it in the car.
Hopeless with directions, incapability
always embarrassed, frustrated me.
No longer. I smile and use my GPS!

More Than Five Times

More than Five Times #1

He said more than five times
he would turn his life around,
become responsible, but it
took me less than five times
to realize he's a liar with a gift
of credible sounding words who
has no intention except deceit.
I continue to marvel at people
he tricks, no apology or change.


More Than Five Times #2

I have been angry with her
more than five times.
I try to look the other way
when she does things that
are not good for her kids,
but sometimes it is hard.

I try to think only of her children,
to do what I can, let go the
things I cannot change, forgive,
forget, be understanding
more than five times,
but sometmes it is hard.

Hell Yeah

Hell Yeah


If you want to share my life
however long I have left
from the birth of the day
until the moon rises high
I'd like you to know
I'm trying to do okay
still dreaming my dreams
singing my songs
walking my walks
writing my poems
not giving up yet
not ready sit down
to give up the ghost
to bask in the sun.
If you're asking me to say
if it's all been worth while
despite struggles along the way
you're gonna hear me shout
as loud as I can muster
Hell yeah it is
I loved it all
and I'm not done yet
I'm still flying high
and I will enjoy my life
and live til I die.
Hell yeah I will
in my own unique way.
If you want to share my time
I'll share it with you but
I'm selfish with it now as
its shorter than it was and
it has to have meaning
because this life goes so fast
but I'm willing to take a chance
to give it all I have if you will too
just let me know or walk away..
Hell yeah I will, I say it loud.
Life's a gift made for living.
My feet are on the ground,
my head is in the sky.
I've made my peace,
will live until I die, so when
someone asks you when
I am gone if I loved my journey
you can tell them this
Hell yeah she did.
She loved it all.
She chose her life and made it fit
She had God, love, children,
grandchildren, dogs, friends,
beauty, fun, laughter
She tried her hardest,
damn well succeeded
Hell yeah she did.
Hell yeah she did.


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Based on "Hell Yeah" by Neil Neil Diamond


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5CaxmqKduhc&feature=related

Evening

Evening


It's evening now
time to seek balance
return to equilibrium
move beyond hurt
rise above, let it go
try to be kind, understand,
or perhaps just forget.

I talk to myself, try
hard to make it happen,
don’t want to go to bed sad.
I tell myself I only hurt me,
know all the words to say.
If only it were so easy now
that it is evening time.

Exhausted and Alone

Exhausted #1

Exhausted


All day I follow Mya, two years old as she moves
from dolls to televisionto refrigerator, insists she'lll
hold the leash when we take the dogs out,
can do it herself, takes off her doll's clothes,

then her own, says she has to go potty, but after
she plays five minutes on the toilet, declares
she is done, then wants a drink of water or perhaps
a piece of string cheese. We go outside to play with

balls. I try to teach her to catch. After we take them
out, she wants to play basketball, so we get the Little
Tykes basketball hoop, and she throws one ball, is
finished with that. I suggest we go shopping, and she

can hardly wait. We get in the car, and she wants to
fasten the latch in her car seat herself. No help, she
says. At the store she decides she would rather walk
than ride in the cart. Fine. I want to tire her out, so

when we come home she'll be ready to nap.With
shopping finished, we head home. I'm in luck. She
falls asleep. I carry her into the house. She's exhausted.
So am I. She sleeps. I sit to write this poem. At last.



Alone


More and more I realize
i have to keep myself going
exhausted or not, no reward
except the satisaction of
achievement, no accolades
or mention by others, plug
on one day after another.
We who thought we were
together are really alone.
We who thought we were
a group are individual islands
moving in the same direction
or perhaps standing still..
I'm tired, but I keep on moving.
My pace is slow, and my feet
are dragging, but there is no
other way to get to the finish
line.I hope I can inspire myself
after a long day. I hope I can
inspire you. God willing,
we will each achieve our goal.
Even if it is to just stand still.

Earth Day Short Poems

#

After a hard winter,
There is nothing like
the feel of the warm earth
between my fingers
at flower planting time.

#

Frst tulip that emerges
is always the most
beautiful of the season.

#

Why is it that the nasty
crow has the loudest call
and the peaceful robin
little voice at all?

#

Late April, and not all trees have
budded. I look around , wonder
worry that some ever will. Perhaps
they didn't survive. I wait, watch,
hope. Winters are harsh, life fragile.

#

Spring grass is always greenest, not
baked by the mid-summer sun. Newly
emerging it reminds me of life's renewal.

#

Earth's spring season, every day better
than the day before, every day greener,
with more colorful flowers, eggs laid,
babies born, hope renewed each year.

#

Oh how I love the earth and its bounty,
which gifts us unselishly without asking
anything in return except that we take care
of it, renew its gifts when possible, enjoy
and be thankful to God who created all.

#

According To.....

According To..... (#1)

According to a well known senior Iranian
cleric Hojatoleslam Kazem Sedighi
earthquakes and volcanoes are caused
by women who wear immodest dress.

According to well known televangelist Pat
Robertson the Haiti earthquake was caused
by the Haitian people's pact with the devil
to rid them of control by the French.

According to me who is not well known
to anyone, both Hojatoleslam Kazem Sedighi
and Pat Robertson need to get facts straight,
stop swaying others with their twisted points.


According To..... (#2)

According to Tulip, it is all about food
and what to do to get the most food
and how to snatch Violet's food,
if possible..

According to Violet, it is all about
guarding her food even if she doesn't
want to eat it, to make sure that no
one else can.

According to me, it is all about
making sure that Tulip cannot
eat Violet's uneaten food and
get fat!

Looking Back/Ahead

I look back at my relaxed days in Waikiki,
want to remember them always. They were
special times to hold close to my heart.
I visited Waikiki before, this time was magic,
was special, and I'm not sure quite why..

-------------------------------------------------
One must look back to make sense
of what lies ahead, learn from past
lest one repeat one's pastmistakes.
If one knows what not to do, it is
easier to figure the best course forward.

----------------------------------------------------

I try to straddle looking back and looking ahead,
don't want to spend too much time either place
as the only place we have is this moment, right now.

----------------------------------------------------------


It is all right to look back sometime
to see how far you have come, as
the past is an effective yardstick to
measure what has yet to be done.

Mya Kling

Mya Kling

You love your long green dress, wide hat and dress shoes,
know innately how to pose as a model, how to sit, stand,
tilt your head just right. You have endearing ways, a look of
confidence, a bright smile to match your bright eyes.

You command the merry-go-round in the park to go fast,
slide down the big slide, like to ride the metal horse,
ride on the big swing. No baby swings for you this year.
You think you're too big for that.

You take your dollies for walks in their pink stroller until
it is their naptime, and you bed them down in the
laundry basket, then climb in yourself to watch Barney
on TV, cuddle with your dollies who should be asleep.

Your favorite book is Brown Bear, Brown Bear and you
insist that you turn the pages yourself. You like
to run, throw balls, take walks, try on clothes, eat
oranges, popcorn, and string cheese. Pickles

are good with anything. You sneak food to dogs
when no one is looking, insist on helping take
them out to potty, hold the leash yourself though
they pull you hard. You are a big girl, after all.

You sing Jesus Loves Me in the car, where you kick
off your shoes every time, knowing you are naughty
but you don't care in the least. You like to shop, want
to walk yourself, not ride in the cart anymore.

You tease, sometimes test, with glint in your eyes,
just how far you can go. You know what is yours.
You know how old you are now, hold up two fingers,
but sometimes you'll say with straight face you're five.

Camera

Camera

With camera I walk the
now familiar streets, find
the unfamiliar among the
known. The camera becomes
extra eyes for me, gives
me a way to preserve
memories of what I see from
day to day. Ocean views,
canal views, palms, surfers,
sitters, walkers, homeless,
birds, dogs, moray eels.
Restaurants, food served,
smiles and nice clothes.
Aloha and again aloha,
All captured with the click
click of the lense. Now I'll
remember forever and will
happily share with you.

To Walk on Waikiki

To Walk on Waikiki

Tan people of all ages embrace surfboards,
head for the beach. Runners and walkers
in workout attire sweat and stride along
Kalakaua Avenue, time themselves

with GPS watches, look fit. Homeless or
drug addicted stretch out in grass beneath
palms, rest heads on satchels, oblivious
to all who pass by. Bare-foot swimmers,

wrapped in towels, head for the waves.
Name brand shoppers in finery saunter to
fashionable Armani, Ferrari, Gucci. Other
shoppers buy five dollar t-shirts at Hawaii's

humble, but ever-available, ABC. Mc Donalds
and Burger King are busy, but not as busy as
Duke's Waikiki all-you-can-eat noon buffet on
the shore. Hawkers on many corners push

fliers about a gun club where one can shoot
real guns. Other hawkers urge visits to a
nail zone, Planet Hollywood, or time share
presentation and a free buffet for one's time.

Street musicians perform, street portrait
artists offer to draw, gypsies sell self-made
jewlery, fortune tellers will tell futures for
donations only. An alcoholic with a cardboard

sign solicits money to support alcohol
research, a woman pushes her Chihuahua
in a baby stroller. Couples sip Mai Tai's
at the oceanside bar of the Pink Hotel.

A man dressed as a newspaper sits on
unmoving on a bench. Busses, cycles,
cars drive up and down. A trolley drives
a young couple, just married, who wave out

over the street from behind a pink heart
of balloons. People sit on benches, watch
the surfers, eat lunches, play chess, write
memoirs, read, feed pigeons one is not

supposed to feed. Life is good, life is fine.
Sun shines bright, the wind blows strong.
Waikiki in April is the place to be.

Science

Science

How electricity works is
I flip the switch and
there is light. How an
automobile works is I
put the key in the ignition,
step on the gas pedal,
grip the steering wheel,
and off I go. How an
airplane works is I board
the plane, fasten seat
belts, close my eyes
as the plane glides down
the runway and takes
off into the sky. That's
all I need to know of
science. I prefer history.

No Regrets

No Regrets

It was hard to tell my father I loved him,
he was uncomfortable with caring words
He never told my mother or me he loved
us, though, of course, I know that he did.

When my dad lay dying, I forced
myself to say I love you. I choked out
the words through the lump in my
throat. Then he said I love you too.

I said You were a good father, Dad.
He said I tried my best. I cried as
I hugged him. He cried too. It was
hard to see my dad finally cry.

It was hard to tell my father I loved him,
but I am glad at last I did. If I had not
broken the barrier, I would have to live
with regrets today. I love you, Dad.

Deadline

Deadline

Deadline creeps closer
minute by minute
hour by hour
year after year.

Much to accomplish
before cut-off-time
known only to God
but date not shared.

Paths to walk, ideas
to share, goals and
dreams to achieve
without further delay.

Unknown deadline
in next to no time
one moment here
next moment gone.

Island Paradise

Island Paradise

Hawaii is fantastic to visit,
but I wouldn't want to live here.
No matter where I am I can drive
to any location on the island
in less than a day. But no further.
Contemplation of this causes
claustrophobia if I think about it
long enough, which I don't when
I am here, as now, vacationing on
Oahu and too busy enjoying Paradise
and the spirit of Aloha to think.

Love at Waikiki

Love at Waikiki

I am so excited I don't know what to do
I am in love, looking forward, have never
felt this way before. My heart beats fast,
anticipates what I dreamed of last night,
thought about all morning. I am orgasmic,
know it is nearly time. I have showered,
dressed in fine clothes, wait for the moment
I can indulge my desired pleasure. I am so
ready to accompany you to savor Duke's
at Waikiki all you can eat buffet.

Honolulu

Honolulu

Honolulu paradise, vibrant
and diverse city in every sense
of the word, where Trump Towers
and park filled with homeless
in makeshift tents can exist a few
blocks apart, and few people pay
attention to either as they pass by.

Honolulu paradise, noisy city
where weather is beautiful, sun
usually shines though there can
be a sudden downpour of rain.
The beach is magnificent, and
the ocean blue. Surf boards pass
through the streets carried by
well tanned young men who
worship the ocean and live for
the next big wave.

Honolulu paradise, where
drug addicts sit on park benches
on the main thoroughfare in an
area of heavy police patrols and
nothing happens to them, and
the young glide on roller blades

Honolulu Paradise is where one
can shop Gucci, Coach, Ferrari,
Spade, Rolex, Tiffany, as limos
weave their way through the
streets along with taxis and
a sea of people walking.

Honolulu Paradise, where
diversity rules, people of all ages,
colors, shapes, sizes, economics
walk side by side on the street
in whatever they deem to be
fashion, from beach attire to
fancy attire and everything in
between. No one notices, and
all are accepted here and just
take their places in the crowd.

Honolulu Paradise, where
the fish is exceptional, papayas
heaveny, pineapples always
sweet, and one can ride bus
anywhere. Here life can be
anything there is money to buy
or anything you choose.
Simple is possible, though
expensive whatever you do.

Honolulu Paradise is fast cars,
bad traffic, energy saving busses,
the pink hotel, luxury, poverty,
those who enjoy, those who
provide services to those who
enjoy. Honolulu is hotels,
restaurants, shops, ordinary
life, and life most can only imagine.

Road Runner

Road Runner

Hopeful road runner,
imprisoned behind heavy gates
dashes about, entertains guests
within small confines, waits once
again for the gate to open, hopeful
someone will leave it ajar so he can
scamper into the desert and travel
the unprotected world to see what's
beyond his restricted environs
toward the beckoning horizon.

Butterfly

Butterfly


Little black and yellow
butterfly, I am elated that you
settled on my foot. I must
appear as large to you as
you look small to me. What
a trusting spirit you are!
I will honor that trust.
Here, let me put you
on this leaf where you will
be safe. May you lead
a long life and always find
safe havens when you fly.

Last Night (Mother)

Last Night

She said she was happy, happier than she'd been in weeks,
looked forward to cooking Thanksgiving dinner, with daughters
and families at home. The turkey was in the refrigerator,
ready to go. The potatoes, cranberries, green beans, stuffing,

and pumpkin ready for preparation. At home that night she made
many calls A niece, a nephew's wife, both daughters, a friend.
Everyone said she was optimistic, cheerful, funny.
She died the following morning. Her heart failed, was found two

hours later. People talked about all the calls she made, many
more than usual. In retrospect they thought she knew something,
had a premonition, a need to connect for one last time. I believe
this to be true, as I was one who talked to her that night. She was

my mother. We celebrated Thanksgiving two days later. Without
her.. All was almost ready. She saw to that, would have wanted it
that way. There was an empty chair at the table, just in case
she still had not toally left. I think she was there.

Ultimate Horror

Ultimate Horror


Blue computer screen arises
out of nowhere, for no reason,
then black. Computer with its
own mind reboots. Horror strikes,
the worst possible kind. Today's
words lost, gone, never to be
reclaimed in the same way.
What will happen? I watch the
familiar process, wonder, hope.
Will it, will it not, reboot? I
watch, pray, then sigh in relief.
Windows emerge again. All works,
though perhaps on borrowed time,
I breathe, relieved to be spared
devastation for another day.

Two Self Portraits

Morning Mary

She awakes early, turns on coffee,
takes dogs out, feeds them, turns
on computer, reads email as she eats
toast and cheese. An extra cup of coffee
if lucky. She takes dogs out again, dashes
out to drive across the city to pick up
grandchildren, delivers grandson to school
and granddaughter accompanies her to
the YMCA. In blue jeans and t-shirt, she walks
treadmill for an hour, perhaps two, periodically
checks email on Blackberry, then Facebook.
Determined, she walks with earphones attached
to the television as she watches CNN, The View.
She has a book with her in case she's inspired
to read for a while. This seldom happens. She
usually opts to keep walking or use weight
machines. Or sometimes at the end of the
workout she will just sit, have another cup
of coffee, stare into space, as her morning
routine comes to an end for another day.



Who is This Woman?

Hair streaked with blonde and red which covers any grey that exists
and there doesn't seem to be much; it is still her bright blue eyes that
stand out. Her eyes always her good feature. Blue, intense, they dance.
Face she realizes is now lined with wrinkles where smooth pink used
to be. She never sees lines in her mind. Only in mirrors or photographs.
She sees herself still with a soft summer tan, hair blowing in the breeze.

She is tall and lean with small waist, breast, and butt. She likes her
body. It fits her, and she fits it. She is as lean as she's ever been
and wants to keep it that way. She is active, energetic, walks inside
and out, uses weight machines, though doesn't enjoy them. She's
always hungry, watches what she eats, enjoys healthy foods,
watches numbers on the scale. doesn't want to gain weight, won't.

She organizes, multi-tasks, moves fast, likes things in order,
in their place, clean. She is a perfectionist, frustrated as she
cannot be as perfect as she wants. She knows what's right,
may be blunt, is persistent, impatient, likes to write and think
and laugh. She likes to be with people, prefers individuals
or small groups, and treasures her own company most of all.

Until

Until # 1

Until I am able to say something nice
I will not speak, as if I speak too soon I
will regret it and once words are said
they cannot be unsaid. At least I learned
until the next time.


Until # 2

Until dinner I will try to refrain
from eating, though it is so
easy to take a few almonds,
then a few more, popcorn,
yogurt, maybe an orange.
Perhaps I should move my
computer out of the kitchen.

Until # 3

Until tomorrow morning I have time for myself
an hour or maybe two at most before I sleep,
but it's mine to do what I want just for me,
to answer to no one; and then tomorrow it
begins again, the treadmill of life, as I juggle
others' needs and wants, finish what needs
to be done, clean messes, try to do something
useful, and smile whether I want to or not.

Hiring Annie

Hiring Annie

Somehow I don't think Pocohantas
looked the way Annie Liebowitz portrayed
her. I think I will hire Annie to paint
me to look like Sofia Loren. Oh what
a sexy woman I will be. Ooh la la!

Tiger

Tiger

Tiger said all he needs to say,
there is nothing he has to add.
He admitted his serious mistakes,
apologized, taken responsibility,
sought help, is rebuilding his life.
Now let the man alone to play golf .
Every person deserves a second
chance especially if he tries so hard.
And we all know more than enough!

End of the Road

End of the Road


She taught me to drive her stick shift car so
we could travel from Wisconsin to Nova Scotia
and I could help her drive, but I hated the stick
and she hated to have me drive so I was a passenger
to Nova Scotia and back a different route in ten days.

We were on the road all day, morning until dinner at
night, seldom stopped except to eat or sleep. I don't
know what all we saw with all this driving, but I do know
she didn't want the air conditioner on in July heat. But
every night a motel the air conditioner blasted cold.

So I waited until she slept, then got up and turned the
air conditioner off. Sometime later she awoke and turned
the air conditioner on. It was this way the entire trip.
I wanted a cold car, she wanted a cold motel room.
It was hard. I usually lost the battle. It was her car.

I remember L.L. Bean in Freeport, Maine, and Peggy's
Cove, Nova Scotia, our end destination. I have pictures
to prove I was there, and then we started home again,
this time through Toronto. We ended up in a seedy hotel
and were tired of each other as much as we were tired.

I walked around Toronto on my own and had a
good time. I don't know what she did, but at night
the air conditioner blasted.Two nights there, and it
was the end of the journey. We made record time
back to Wisconsin, didn't see each other since.

Partly Poetry

Partly Poetry

Partly happy is better than sad
partly sunny better than rain
partly written poem better than
no words written at all.

The River

The River


Many young men drown in the Mississippi River
downtown LaCrosse after bars close. Eight young
men in thirteen years made their way to the river
three blocks from night life, bodies discovered later.
All died alone, no friends or other witnesses.

Families would like to believe there is a serial killer:
Someone harmed their sons, there was foul play
before somone pushed them into the river. . They
sought the help of detectives and FBI. No coincidence,
they say. Too many met this awful fate. Find the killer.

But investigations have proved there is no killer.
Heavy drinking is the cause, the river the means but
innocent of malice. It carries each body, as it swirls
and bobs;and late at night in the rushing waters
there is no escape. The river just flows and flows.

Lonely

Lonely

Lonely party
people smile laugh
I smile too, talk, laugh
a bit too loud maybe.
look at my watch
want to go home
how much longer
must I stay?
Has anyone left yet?
Is it still too soon?
I wanted to be here
to see everyone, and
I like these people,
but now I want home.
When can I leave?
Two hours is enough
for me to move from person
to person, group to group,
ask questions, answer
them. I laugh at everyone
who thinks they are clever.
I smile at stories, tell a few
of my own, but my heart
is not in it. I want to go
home where I can relax,
smile or laugh or not.
I'm lonely in this crowd.