Circus Dog Trainer

Circus Dog Trainer

Circus dog trainer
that's what I'd be
in the circus of my mind.

Give me purebreds or
mixed breeds, old
or very young, and

time to work with them,
treats in hand, to teach
them to jump through

hoops, climb stairs, walk
ropes, do back and front
flips, walk on only two feet.

I'll have them jump rope
ride little bikes or trucks,
climb a ladder too.

Dog trainer par excellence
my circus persona, time
to run away with dogs!

Delight

Delight


Delight is thinking about a chocolate chip cookie I am saving for sometime later,
the smile and the hugs of a two-year-old, her words "I can do it myself," her
telling me "let's run" and we do. Delight is a dog so excited about taking a walk,
a dog sniffing all the smells she wants to sniff, but more than that delight is
cuddling with a dog when I want to be warmed. Delight is pizza, an ice cream
cone, sitting in the hot tub, a free afternoon, a long walk. Delight is when I
can choose to do what I want to do, a good meal in a restaurant with friends,
a meaningful sermon in church. Delight is watching a six-year-old do so well
at Wii that I hesitate to play against him now, to hear him tell me that he
is the best reader in his class, in fact the smartest in his class. Delight is
seeing how much he likes school. Delight is a good conversation, a new
idea coming to mind, an unexpected email from someone, a comment in one
of my blogs. Delight is caring deeply about someone and knowing I am
deeply cared about in return, working for a good life, discussing the events
of the day. Delight is sitting in the same room with someone and not
having to talk and knowing that is perfectly okay. Delight is a special way
of feeling on an ordinary or extraordinary day!

Enough Said

Enough Said


Enough said --
I know how it is,
cannot change it,
cannot continue to worry,
have to accept as is.

Enough said --
what will be will be.
Things that are
out of my control
I have to let go.

Enough said --
my fears may come
true or may not.
I can only trust, then
pray. Enough said.

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.

Flashlight

Flashlight


I keep many flashlights handy
at home, along with spare batteries,
in case the electricity goes out or I
need light in the middle of the night
and don't want to turn on a lamp.
Sometimes when I awake early I use
a flashlight to find my way around.
A flashlight is a necessity. I can
always reach one from my bed.
When I travel and sleep in a strange
place, I often hold a flashlight as I
sleep just in case and use it if I get
up in the middle of the night, to find
things I need in the dark, or to get up
early and not wake anyone. A
flashlight is a form of security. It is
small but feels mighty.

Freedom

Freedom

Who has freedom really? There
is always someone or even an
animal whose needs dictate what
any person does. There is always
someone or some task tugging at
at a person's life. The only way
one might be totally free might be
the person lived on an island alone.
But would this freedom be worth
losing all one's connections?
I don't think so. I prefer a
life with less personal freedom!

Oh No (3 poems)

Oh No


Oh no, snow on the ground again
though it is the first day of spring
all that had a hint of green is
blanketed with white once more.

------

Oh no, I can't sleep. What will I do?
Perhaps I'll turn on television and hope
to intrigue my mind, trick it into sleep
before I realize. Maybe I'll look at my
Blackberry and see if there is news
I missed. I can answer an email or two.
Maybe I'll just lie here, stare into the
darkness for a while. What will I do?

----

Oh no, I can't shake the sadness about
the friend who said she didn't and would
not read my blog. She once did read,
but never commented, but now she made
it clear she doesn't look at all, though
I invite her too. She said she sees me,
knows what I do. She doesn't understand
the importance of words, that an invitation
to read my words is a great gift. I won't
feel the same about this person I thought
cared about me. I realize she doesn't,
as my words are me.

Oh Yes

Oh Yes


Oh yes,

I try to be optimistic,
but it isn't always easy.

I try to enjoy each day,
but it isn't always easy.

I try to be the strong person,
but it isn't always easy.

I try to accept,
but it isnt always easy.

I try to forgive,
but it isn't always easy.

Oh yes.

The Color of March

The Color of March

There is some green in March
not much but some, only a
touch of optimism and
potential growth. Mostly
March is a dirty month, tan
and soggy, a month that
can't quite decide, could
go either way, snow or rain,
cool or warm. The yard will
need to be cleaned, but not
yet. Too early, soggy ground,
respite before real work begins,
a monthto walk dogs, to
appreciate nature's indecision.
March is a carefree month, as
I know what lies ahead

Remember me?

Remember Me?

Remember me, Dad? I am the child who
chose a compass as a souvenir on our
vacation. I thought it would be fun to use,
but couldn’t figure out how it worked. So I
asked you to explain, and you tried and tried,
but your explanation made no sense to me,
and the more words you used the more
frustrated you became and I cried because
I so wanted to understand something that should
have been so simple but wasn't. We finally put
the compass away. I did not learn to use
the compass that day. It was years before I
made sense out of a compass. Even now,
every time I pick up a compass I see the pained
look on your face and feel the lump in my throat.

Listen

Listen

Listen,
I never dreamed
I would someday
be this old. I
don't think anyone
every dreams they
will be old.

Everyone thinks
they will be young
forever,that they
have unlimited time.
For some years
everyone buys into
this illusion, and
perhaps this is not
a bad thing..

Remember Me?

Remember me?

Remember me?
I am the girl
with blonde hair
and blue eyes,
the one you did
not pay much
attention to,
in fact ignored
as you fantasized
about cheerleaders
who are by now
out of shape
and I am not.
Funny how times
change, don't
you think?

I Was Kissed Once

I Was Kissed Once

I was kissed once
by a college senior
when I was a college
freshman and though
I had thought I liked
him the intensity of
his kiss scared me,
so I never went out
with him again.

They Who Feel Death

They Who Feel Death

They who feel death close as a breath
and live to talk about it later often
appreciate life in a way that many do not
and though they do not speak about it
you can tell by the look on their faces.

I Remember

I Remember

I remember
seeing
a little girl
one moment
in time
and when I
blinked
and looked
again she
was grown
and had a
little girl
of her own.

When One Has Lived a Long Time

When One Has Lived a Long Time

When one has lived a long time sometimes it is hard
to realize that to many people whose paths you cross daily
you are old, even though you feel so young inside and are
active and energetic. Your face does not lie. Appearance
does not deceive. You cannot hide the fact, even if you
might wish to, that you are old

Looking At Your Face (To Mya)

Looking at Your Face
(To Mya)

Looking at your face I try to figure out
what you are thinking but you are only
two years old, and I am not quite sure
that even you know.

If One Day It Happens

If One Day It Happens

If one day it happens that it is my last day on earth
let me savor the day fully, let me tell every person
who is important to me that I love them, let me spend
time with my dogs, let me fold my hands in prayer to
ask for forgiveness for all I did and for all I did
not know. Let me go in peace, loving and loved. Amen.

I Scream Waking from a Nightmare

I scream waking from the nightmare I
had too many times. Crushed beneath
wheels of a semi trailer truck, I
cannot escape. I kick the wheels to
stop them from rolling over me. I want
to live. God, please let me live.

In Late Winter

In Late Winter

In late winter I sometimes glimpse a bit of
grass, though brown, beneath the snow, and
I know that spring is on the horizon. Days
lengthen. I wake up when it is almost light.
I am excited once again that rebirth happens,
that everything that waits beneath the snow will
soon renew. In late winter I am optimistic again.

In Response to..Why do you Talk So Much?

In Response to Why Do You Talk So Much?

I don't know anyone who talks too much.
Mostly I wish people would talk more, as
I like to listen to others' philosophies,
experiences, and dreams. I know I don't do
well with silence though,so if there is
silence I will try to fill it; but I would
rather fill it with someone else's voice than
mine. Sometimes talking for me is hard work.

I Sit a Minute

I Sit a Minute

I sit a minute and plan to read my book
but something else calls out for attention,
something I just must do, and after about
two weeks of trying to read the book I
have only read one chapter. I will try
again tomorrow. Maybe then I will succeed.

How Many Nights?

How Many Nights?

1,

How many nights have I lain
sleepless, flipping channels,
looking for something that
hold my interest? It is only
if there is something good
on television that I can
concentrate on that knowing
I will again be able to sleep.

2.

How many nights have I gone
to bed early after awakening
early and going nonstop from
the moment my eyes opened
until I finally felt the need
to crash?. Often way too early,
but this odd pattern fits me
as I am a morning person anyway,
always have been, always will be.

3.

How many nights have I sat down
to watch something on television
only to find my eyes won't stay
open, especially if its a program
I don't want to miss.

Competitor

Competitor

You test the courage of every muscle
and the power of a focused mind.
It's your personal best magnified,
stretched to the limit even when it hurts
so bad that every tendon aches to its core.
You just want to leave the race but don't
because you know that today is your one
chance to excel and you tell yourself that
you can, and you do, every four years.

Solitude

Solitude

Though I am surrounded by others
I hardly notice them as when I'm
there I go into my own head for
solitude in my own endeavors. It
is MY time for body and mind. I
walk the treadmill, and my thoughts
travel where they will as I watch TV
of my choice to catch up on the
news of the day or enjoy 'hot topics'
discussed on The View. I feel my
body and mind relax, stresses
fade away. I know I'm doing a
good thing.This is my time, my
time of solitude, when I can do
what I want for no one but me
working out at the YMCA..

Living With Chocolate

Living with Chocolate

If someone gives me a box of fancy chocolate candy
I eat it in a very few days. It gnaws at me as I walk
by it. I'll take one piece. I'll take just one more.
If I finish the whole box then it will be gone, and I won't

have to think about it any longer. Just two more, even
if they are not my favorites, and the box will be gone.
I usually don't eat candy at all. I don't even think about
it unless I see it somewhere. My beautician usually

has little candies sitting out, and when I go there I
generally have one or perhaps two. A special treat.
And that's okay. I enjoy them. But I don't buy candy,
don't even notice it in the store. I can't remember the

last time I bought candy. I will not buy it ever.
But last night when I was at the party, there was
a dish filled with simple M & M's. I do love M & M's.
I had to put my hand into that dish two or three times

to grab some. And someone had made some little treats
with chocolates and walnuts and I had to have a number
of these too. More than a few. I savored them.
I know that within me resides the potential to eat too

much chocolate candy. I am thankful that I can
generally exercise self control to the point of not even
noticing it unless it is freely available somewhere out
in public and I can help myself to a few. I am thankful

that chocolate candy does not usually make its way
into my house where I have to eat it until it is gone.
I am thankful I've learned to live with chocolate.

For Alice Walker

For Alice Walker


When I

see the

way

you write

poetry

it does not

inspire me

at all.


Instead I

think

what a waste

of paper

for so

few words

and what

a waste

of trees!


I wonder,

dear Alice,

how

expensive

such a book?

Sweet Peace

Sweet Peace

She sits and waits for what she
doesn't have, stares at walls, peers
from behind drawn curtains, watches
life dash by outside her desolate prison.
Her life stands still.

She makes excuses, curses fate. Life
isn't fair, she reasons from within her
lethargy, then turns from the window,
turns on TV, makes the world vanish.
Alas, her mind stand still.

Time Travel

Time Travel

With no desire to go forward into the future I put my mind into
reverse and traveled back through time to try to figure
out how I happened to be in this place today. As year
after year was stripped away and secrets unraveled one by one,
I kept my mind open and clear, found myself meeting myself

younger after every turn, wrinkles diminished then gone, muscles
tighter then taut again, gray streaked hair renewed to blonde. I observed
signs missed the first time around, clues to the path I'd follow
to the person I'd become. Fifties, forties, thirties, twenties,
all faded away, as I embraced each younger self and walked on,

wiser the second time around. Alas I observed myself a teen
for a moment in time, caught between child and adult with
dreams, fears, all unknowns ahead, so many years to live. Hard
to fathom now. Then I opened the heavy gate into childhood, where
I stood face to face with the blue-eyed girl with wispy blonde hair

blowing in the wind. She put her hand in mine, urged me to continue
along the backward path and showed me the last door to open
on this journey if I dared. The child dropped my hand, looked into
my still blue eyes, then turned away as I opened the door into the
room that held a crib. A sleeping baby embraced a pink rabbit. So

new to life, innocent, unmarked, possibilities unrevealed and ahead.
I stood with tears in my eyes, realized that the baby was me. I wanted
to wake her, hold her, tell her though life would not always be easy
it would be all right. Everything would be all right. I promised her that
before I turned around, ready to walk back to the future again, carry on.

Possibility / Impossibilities (Acrostic Poems)

Possibility

Perhaps good will come
of what I do each day
so many lessons
so little time but
in the time I have I
bring my heart and
if it is not enough
love is what I give and
in the end hope
they remember many
years from now.


Impossibilities

It really is not easy for me to
mind my own business some times
perhaps this is the fatal flaw
of the Virgo who knows how things
should be done, hates disarrary,
sometimes beats herself up
if she cannot be all things for all
but she tries to do what she can
in doing so she cuts herself short
looks out for others' needs
instead of her own and mostly
tries to be the best she can be
in spite of her shortcomings and
especially tries hard to keep
silent and keep walking on.

Freezing

Freezing

I take the dogs outside when
the temperature is bitter, and
sometimes reflect on how lonely
it would be to freeze to death.

I shiver outside with the dogs,
regret that I left the house
without warm hat and gloves,
think it will only be a moment.

I stand on ice and snow, see
in my mind the homemade posters,
pictures of a little white dog lost
in my neighborhood, reward offered.

Midwest winter is brutal for dogs and
humans. I pray the poster dog
is alive, home with its loving owner
who forgot to remove posters that

are up way too long. Or I hope
the dog has been found by
someone and has a warm bed.
Even if it was stolen, I hope

it is now safe and loved. I can't
bear the thought that it just escaped
from home somehow, door opened
on a cold night, became lost in

the snow-covered darkness
to freeze to death all alone. How
I wish the posters would be gone!
How I wish I'd remember my hat.

I Wish I'd Known

I Wish I'd Known

I wish I'd known how fast
the years would pass
how little time we have
the impermanence of all
that we have and how
unimportant most things
become if we don't have
health, that little matters
then in the end except
who we have touched how.

Door

Door

Every weekday I open the door,
don't know what I will find. I try to
remain hopeful. Sometime hope
is rewarded, sometimes not

The Bed

The Bed

The rail broke on Tgegranddaughter's crib, so the
father's foster father bought an inexpensive toddler
bed but instead of putting it together it was dropped
off at daughter's house in a box. She tried to put it

together but was not successful. Wouldn't you
think the men would put it together? So the father
said he would put it together but the night he was
supposed to do this he was too late (no surprise),

so he said he'd come the following night. Last night!
Then it was discovered that all of the parts included
were not right, so it could not be put together at all.
I don't know if this is true or not, and I am truthfully

not interested in dealing with this gift of a bed, as
if I had given something I would have put it together,
but damn this was not my gift nor should it become
my job. So this morning I asked daughter what will

happen now and she said she had to call the company
that made the bed. And I said this wasn't right, as she
has no timeto do this so I told her that I would box up the
incomplete bed (thank god the box still was around) and

that she should take it ove rto the foster father's house
and present it back to him and let him deal with Sears and
his gift of the the bed. I really know that if it were left as is
in my daughter's house that it would be sitting there

yet in June incomplete and by then some the parts would
be lost, which would mean greater problems. To box it up,
I had to locate the screws which my daughter did not know
where they were. Thank god I found them after she left for

work, as finding things there is never an easy task. So the
bed is ready now, boxed by me, only has to be taken to car.
I pray I will not find the box sitting right where I left it when
I come again on Monday, but I wouldn't doubt it will.

And I would guess granddaughter will never sleep
in a toddler bed. All of this upsets me greatly, and
sometimes I wonder if it would be better if I didn't know
and could believe in fairy tales and princess beds.

I Wonder

I Wonder

I wonder if I lost the ability to write
as nothing seems new, fresh. Nothing
makes creativity flow. My hands stand
still on the keyboard. The circuits of my
mind search each mental cranny for
inspiration, something, anything. They
find nothing.all topics done, redone, my
thoughts bore me. My words and thoughts
are redundant, all has been expressed before
or is of interest to no one, not even me.
I wonder if this happens to everyone, and
I wonder if this feeling will pass. I wonder
if someday my fingers will be sparked to
move on the keyboard again, ideas alive
once more so I will again create.

Far Less to Say

I have far less to say
than i used to. My words
no longer seem important. I
keep my thoughts inside
me, for better or worse.
I no longer babble on when
what I have to say is really
inconsequential even to me.

A Stronger Me

As I live I hope to
become a stronger me
each day: to strengthen
my body or mind, to be of
stronger character or
conviction. As I die
I hope for stronger arms
than mine to carry me home.

Beginnings

Beginnings

What should I begin now in the
new year? What goals should
I focus on? What challenges
should I accept? What should I
strive to accomplish in the year
that stretches ahead?

Perhaps I should abandon goals
and challenges and flow with
the rhythm of each day. I could
rise each morn, stretch arms to sky,
breathe in, breathe out, relax without
previous plan, and do whatever
catches my interest, spontaneous,
free as a child again?

Afterlife

Afterlife

How will it happen, my passsage from life to afterlife?
Will it happen quickly or slowly? Will it be painful
or merely a sensation of transition from one form
to another? Will I be conscious or will there
be a time of sleep from which I will awake to
find myself having across the chasm from which
there is no return?

If I find myself in heaven, will I remember my past life,
yearn for the familiar, or will memories fade in
eternity, as I am embraced by the arms of God?
Will there be reunions with people and pets, joyful
smiles and voices, knownand unknown joining in
fellowship without frowns, with warmth, joy,
cloudless sky? Will I remember people I knew on
earth who are not with me? Will I realize who is
missing? I think not, as there will be no tears,
but how will I forget them? Tell me how.

One

ONE

Only one day before I fly
time moves so quickly
but yet it crawls
so much to do to
get ready to fly such
a distance, to stay
so long. It will be my
longest flight ever,
to Singapore, and we
will cruise beyond. It
will be so exciting
to see the many exotic
places I'd never dreamed
of seeing before this year.

Through This Life

Through This Life

Through this life I traveled
one day at a time, one year
at a time. When I was young
the days and years didn't matter
too much. There would always
be more, and the difference
between one year and another
was basically imperceptible.

But when I reached thirty I
began to take note. Where
was I headed now that I
was no longer young? Lots
of soul searching in those
years, one day at a time,
one year at a time.

I feared fifty, but my fifties
were the happiest years of my life,
years for me, to enjoy, to savor,
amazing days, amazing years.
And now the 60's, hoping for
the best, years of creaitivity,
travel, new goals, new friends,
keeping the old, moving forward
one day at a time, one year
at a time, never looking back

Acceptance

Acceptance

People come in many sizes,
shapes. Some are tall,
some short, some thin,
some fat. God loves them
all the way they are. So
should I....... and you.

Thanksgiving Thankfulness

Thanksgiving Thankfulness

I am thankful
most of the time
for most everything
I have. I remind
myself as often as
necessary that life
is a blessing, but
only the foundation
for other blessings
which follow day
after day, year
after year.

Hot and Cold

Hot and Cold #1 and #2

#1

I love heat, hate cold,
always take a jacket
into a restaurant
in summer. Just in
case. Too warm
is fine with me, but
when cold I can think
of little besides how
to get warm!

#2

She is an unmelting ice block,
without a shred of caring,
love, or compassion.
Her mouth is frozen, smileless,
her eyes hardened in icy stare.
Dressed in shimmery silver, she
is hard in her unbending stance.
She brings shudders to
all in her range and shivers
to those that feel her touch.

Everybody Says

Everybody Says

Everybody says just wait and see,
don't worry until you have something
to worry about, everything is going
to be okay.

Everybody says they will say prayers.
I will pray too. But, damn, it is hard to
wait for the results, to know what
I must pray for.

Everybody says one day at a time,
and I try to think that way. I try to
be optimistic, but I cannot lose
the fear. Help me.

Everybody means well, that I know,
everybody wants it to be okay,
no cancer, nothing serious, that
I do know. Me too.

Nobody knows what another needs.
Oftentimes a person doesn't
know herself. Perhaps
to listen is enough.

Nobody knows my prayers to God.
Do you hear them, God?
I implore you, God, to make
everything right one more time?

Noise

Noise

I'd choose noise any day over silence.
Give me the noise of people talking
television blaring, radio squawking,
dogs barking, children playing,
baby crying, anything rather than
total stillness, which makes me feel
crazy inside, except sometimes
in the early morning hours when I sit
with my cup of coffee and attend to
my computer savoring my time of
reflection, contemplation before
the busy day begins.

Ambulance

Ambulance

Ambulance
red light circles
siren blares, signals
other vehicles to let
it pass. Who is being
transported to the
hospital? Will she
be okay? I say a
silent prayer as the
ambulance passes,
remember that one
time it was me inside.

Life After Sixty

Life after Sixty

One has to invent
a new way to live
one cannot depend on past
to sustain future
one has to begin anew
with fresh dreams,
possibilities abound
if one looks.

And Then

And Then

And then suddenly
it was evening, amazing how
quickly the day passed.
I awoke with many things to do,
optimistic, felt all was possible.
I drank my coffee in the early
hours, savored morning, my
favorite time of day. Felt relaxed,
fresh, time was abundant,
unrushed. Everything in due
time, would be accomplished.
But then, in a blink of the eye,
it was evening. Where had the
day gone? I accomplished,
but not all I wanted to, but
tomorrow will be another day

To Not Attach

To Not Attach

I don't want to attach anymore.
Everything is impermanent,
will eventually leave. Sometimes
now I wish I had fewer things,
would like to give things away
to someone of the next generation

would who enjoy, treasure, act
as caretaker. Stamp collection,
coins, electric train, doll house,
dolls, German steins, nut crackers,
silverware, dishes, postcards.
I remember when my aunt gave

away treasures one cup at a time.
I own some cups from her collection,
but where are they now? Valuable
to me once, now somewhere to
rediscover sometime when I pass
things to someone who might care.

What should I do with keepsakes?
Sad to contemplate, but realistic.
It is an honor to be caretaker, but
also a burden. I wonder if it is best
to walk through life unencumbered,
to collect nothing but memories and

photographs and to write poems
along the way. Beauty, love, health,
friendships, possessions do not last.
Life itself on earth is temporary. Even
I will eventually leave.

SLOW

Slow

days pass slow
when I am worried
and want to know
the answer and pray
all will be okay.
don't like waiting
worrying, but I
have no choice.
I wonder if I worry
more than her.
Most likely.

Does it Matter?

Does it Matter?

Does it really matter
if destruction or death
comes by implosion
or explosion? I don't
think so, do you?

Above The Clouds

Above the Clouds

I cannot see above the clouds
today, but I know that above the
clouds it is always clear and one
can always see the sun. If only
I would be above the clouds today,
the sun seems so elusive.

Above the Clouds

Above the Clouds

I cannot see above the clouds
today, but I know that above the
clouds it is always clear and one
can always see the sun. If only
I would be above the clouds today,
the sun seems so elusive.

Hanging

#1

Hang on to me, and I will hang on to you.
Though the path may be steep and rugged,
together we will find our way. First, you
lead; then let me. We CAN find our way
together. And we WILL.

#2

Hanging onto dreams is better
than letting them fly away. At least
there is good to contemplate
when all is dark within and without.
With no dreams, the furies shriek,
flap their wings, disrupt the night
Bring on dreams and restful sleep.

Not Yet

Not Yet

Lined face, hands, wrinkles,
lose hanging skin, muscles
that sag, force me to recognize
I am no longer young. Some
might, horrors, call me old,
on the downward slope
of life; it is hard to believe life has
passed this fast, brought me
to this point I do not want to be..
In my mind I am young, vibrant,
future ahead of me.When I walk the
treadmill at the Y, I am energized,
upbeat, feel I could walk hours and
then hours more. I hide my head
in the sand, I know it It is an
illusion, a game some of us
may play as long as we can. We
fight what will eventually win. Our
lined, wrinkled bodies will give in
and slow down, step off he treadmill,
kiss the illusion of youth good-bye.
But not today or tomorrow. Not yet.
Old age can wait.

Finally

Finally

The human spirit is renewable.
Even when I am the most tired
and downhearted I realize that
tomorrow will be another chance,
a fresh slate, new page, uncharted
ground, one more opportunity for
me to finally get it right.

If Only

If Only

I say to myself so often, If only,
but it doesn't happen, and I
try to resign myself to the
fact that it most likely never

will. I worry, pray for good
solutions, often wish I could
set the course. I don't
understand why everything

is always so hard. I wish
I could just have today be
enough, that I could just
hug the kids, love them,

laugh with them and let
tomorrow take care of itself.
If only I could have faith
that it would.

Construction

Construction

I hope to build something
good in my life, something
positive with my being, and
to leave a lasting legacy

of caring among those
who knew me well. And
selfishly I want to be
remembered, not forgotten

or overlooked. I hope
someday that it will be
known and appreciated
just all that I brought about,

bought, and built. I wish
I did not care, was selfless,
but I recognize I am not
totally selfless at all

but I hope to build something
good in my life, will hope to
be remembered as good but
truly you can never trust memory.

Overworked Topic

Overworked Topic

Sometimes there is nothing
more to say about a subject
or nothing more one wants to say
anyway, like trying to write about
old news. It is hard to contemplate
what would give the subject a new
perspective, a slant that hadn't
been used before. The subject
tires me, and, damn it, I can't
imagine I am the only one who
feels this way about the
overworked topic of love.

Slippery

Slippery

Slippery roads are dangerous
especially at night with the
glare of the lights. But the
slippery slope is even more
dangerous than the slippery
road as once choose it,
by inventing tales and telling
lies and forcing smiles until
you choke fromyour own deceit
it is one thing after another
as life unravels beneath
your feet and sucks the
dignity you had hoped to
preserve and you scream
as you pray for a way out
of the inner darkness back
into the truth of light

The Shoulds

The Shoulds

Should I rake leaves or
take my dog for a walk?
Should I organize the kitchen
or write a poem?
Should I grocery shop
or read a book?
The choice between what I
should do and what I want
to do is often difficult.
And whatever choice I make
feels half good and half bad.
I wish there were more
hours in the day, especially
to take my dog for a walk.

Reflections on Plant Life

Reflections on Plant Life

I always said that if I were in the hospital
I might prefer a book to read over a bouquet
of flowers as the flowers would fade away
and die, something I would prefer not to.

but then again sometime it is nice to
be surrounded by the beauty of flowers
even if it is only temporary beauty
to enjoy for a few moments, days.

Life itself is fleeting like the beauty
of flowers, with its savored moments
of joy and loveliness, essence
that can inhaled but never captured.

Unable to Cover

Unable to Cover

Sometimes i wish i could cover my emotions
and not wear my heart on my sleeve but
I am not good with this at all. What I feel
people can see, and if I am angry or hurt
sometimes it is better for me to leave than
to sit there and cry or say things I will
regret. I know a lot of people are able
to cover their emotions, to smile no matter
what, but I an not one of them.

Growing

Growing

Most every young girl wants to grow up
to be older than she is today, imagines how
wonderful it would be to have a job, be
independent, be free of parental rules.
At a certain point in life this changes
and each person realizes that with
the passing of each year one grows
older and eventually grows old and
whatever platitudes one expresses
and however wonderful one tries to
present aging there truly are very
few redeeming qualities in growing

Maybe

Maybe

Maybe eventually I will get over it. Maybe not.
Sometimes I wish I were more thick skinned
or able to just turn the other cheek, say slap me
one more time. I can take it. Then slap me again
with everyone as witness. Feel victorious, you
who sought to wound me, your words were daggers,
well planned blows. It is what you desired. I
am not a fighter, never have been, will just walk
away, unmissed as you babble on to your
appreciative audience. Who will be next?

Negative / Positive

Negative

Negative is easier than positive
these days it seems I have
no time for positive, with its
words appear contrived,
just chugging along, put
one foot ahead of another,
try not to think at all.

Positive

Oh what a beautiful day
to be alive. I am so excited
to face the day, do not know
what the day will bring but
know it will be unique as
all days are but please
forgive me for not enjoying
it fully as I am exhausted,
look forward to early rest
and hope I can sleep.

Please

Wikimedia Commons

Please

I know you don't want me,
that you regret my existance,
are embarrassed by me,
wish I didn't live but I do live
and you made it happen.
And you can't undo your action.

Don't you know I have your genes,
no small thing as I am part of you,
but if you are sure you don't want me
someone else has been praying
to have someone like me. Someone
will love me, and I will love them.

I haven't lived yet, want to see
what life is all about, to breathe
and see and hear and think;
maybe I can make a difference
One person can, you know.
Let me live, I implore you.

Please.

This is shared with dVerse Open Link.

A New Year

(prompt - entering something new)


A New Year

I enter a new year of life
hard to believe I am this old;
I can remember turning ten.

The decades have made me
grandmother, uncharted ground,
someone considered old;

but I still feel young, wear
my blue jeans, flashy Nikes,
forget my age unless

I look in the mirror. Wrinkles
shock me sometime. Who
is that with greying hair?

I argue with the calendar
still feel like a teen, almost
immortal, that I have decades

yet to enjoy rich days.
At least I can hope
calendar age is superficial.

I enter a new year optimistic
that this one will be even
better than the last.