That day when
it rained
and the wind
was blowing hard…
That day when
I missed
the bus and
had to run…
That day when
you walked
right past me
we didn’t know…
Posted in NanoPoblano, poem, tagged missed connections, nablopomo, NanoPoblano, poem, soul mates, unanswered questions, you just never know on November 8, 2015| 4 Comments »
That day when
it rained
and the wind
was blowing hard…
That day when
I missed
the bus and
had to run…
That day when
you walked
right past me
we didn’t know…
Posted in after midnight, poem, writing from a prompt, tagged after midnight, poem, writing from a prompt on May 25, 2015| 3 Comments »
Through the open window
I hear the world
Outside…
Tap tap tap
Lori’s cane constant
As she takes her midnight walk
Vroom vroom vroom
Andres’ clunker as it coughs, warming
Before it carries him to work
Tinkle chinkle tinkle
The delicate chimes
Whispering in the gentle breeze
Midnight’s habits never change
Midnight
The magic hour
________________
I don’t usually try poetry but today, while browsing for a writing prompt to try, I came across this one at Something New Daily and thought I would give it a quick once over try. The poem above is what spilled out. My poem is not great but it’s a good first try that I might play around with later.
Posted in life, miscellaneous, tagged poem, thoughts, trees on February 16, 2015| 4 Comments »
Today, a number of things have me remembering the first poem I ever memorized. It was sixth grade and I loved the poem. I have remembered it all these years and thought of it often.
A friend posted some pictures on her blog which included pictures of downed trees on her property, trees taken down by time and weather.
And on another blog, the writer is lamenting the loss of two trees in the yard where she grew up; trees that taught her to climb. They have become dangerous to keep so they are being cut down. Can you imagine losing a part of your history, your youth, and not feeling sad?
And on Facebook a friend has been posting pictures of trees that he comes across while he takes his daily walk.
And outside, as the wind blows and the trees surrounding the neighborhood bend with the wind, I am thinking of trees. There’s one in my hard that I cannot stand and sometimes I wish I could pay someone to come cut it down. It’s a messy tree. A cottonwood tree that spreads the cottony mess all over, the wind carrying it for miles. There is often so much of the white cottony stuff flying that it looks like snow and then it accumulates on the ground and it really does look like snow…in the summertime!
And so my mind has been on trees and on this little poem that has lived in my mind since sixth grade:
Trees by Joyce Kilmer
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
Posted in memories, poem, tagged flashback, memories, memories are made of this, nablopomo, poem, repost on January 26, 2015| 1 Comment »
An old poem that resurfaced today:
Southbound On the I-5
Middle lane of the southbound I-5
listening to the classic oldies
singing along
“… oye, como va mi ritmo,
vamos a bailar …”
rudely interrupted
by that noisy Harley
coming up on my left
just as it reaches me
I am jolted, snatched, and
catapulted
backwards
to a time I barely recognized
my teen years
a foreign place
a different time zone
I see that girl
she’s wearing hot pants
the lime green ones
they have a matching top
sleeveless
sailor collar
that awful huge bow
right in the middle
She’s laughing
I hear it clearly
She’s happy
I can almost feel it too
The girl is filled with youth
filled with joy
filled with the unknown
the future
The girl knows little
not what life is about
not what the future will bring
not about the sorrows and the losses
not about the joys and the triumphs
The girl knows only NOW
she knows only wonder
she knows giddiness
she knows That Boy
and the dizziness she feels
she knows That Boy
and the way his leather jacket smells
she knows That Boy
and the way he looks at her
she knows That Boy
and the safeness he brings
The girl wonders
wonders about the uncomfortable feeling
in that secret area
wonders what her name would sound like
next to his
the girl smiles
not knowing much
Then I’m back in my blue Camry
“… you put a spell on me Baby…”
back in the middle lane
going southbound
and I smile
knowing so much
I still smile
Posted in about me, poem, tagged about me, nablopomo, poem on January 18, 2015| Leave a Comment »
Revisting an old poem I wrote some time ago and published here in 2009.
That’s Where I’m From
I was born from passion and lust
into a world of hunger and thirst
I am from the feelings kept
inside of me, always voiceless
that’s where I’m from
From pain and broken promises
from betrayal and from anguish
that’s where I’m from
From lies and drunken nights
from addiction and from mistrust
that’s where I’m from
I am from the laughter in my heart
from hope seen in my dreams
that’s where I’m from
From darkness deep inside of me
from vanished dreams and tears
that’s where I’m from
I am from the strength inside of me
strength that emerges when needed
that’s where I’m from
Posted in life, tagged poem, write around portland, writing from a prompt on June 3, 2011| 5 Comments »
You can’t tell by looking
that her weathered face has seen harsh times.
You can’t tell by looking
that her heart bears many fractures.
You can’t tell by looking
that healing has taken much more than time.
You can’t tell by looking that this woman is strong;
that this woman is determined.
You can’t tell by looking that this woman has survived.
She will survive—always. That’s who she is.
You can’t tell by looking.
Note: This was the result of a picture prompt at a recent workshop. The picture showed a small, older woman in an elevator with a young couple standing behind her and smirking at her. The prompt we were given was “you can’t tell by looking.”
Posted in memoir, tagged first kiss, memories, poem on November 17, 2008| 10 Comments »
While reading this post from a favorite blogger, I said I’d find a story I wrote a while ago about my first kiss. However, I am in the middle of a lot here and I can’t get to that story until later in the week as it is on a CD some place and I have to find it. So in the meantime, here’s a poem about the same subject, my first kiss and it’s called First Kiss Memories.
silently you move
toward me
my heart races
our dry mouths
water
silence broken by
thumping hearts
velvet soft lips
pressing until they
hurt
this is the kiss
the very first one
under the stars
on the wet
grass
in the darkness
wet mouths
find one another
holding on until
forever
so I remember
you and me
sweet and tender
naive and wanting
youthful
Posted in life, mothers and daughters, tagged domestic violence, lessons learned, poem on May 17, 2008| 12 Comments »
You taught me to be like you
I thought that was what I wanted
That night…
Sound, peaceful sleep
Harshly interrupted
You tried but you couldn’t help it.
You took it and all we heard
From you was quiet.
In the morning we waited
For him to leave and then
We ran into your room
You smiled at us, peacefully
Covering yourself so we
Could not see
You taught us
Your beautiful green eyes
Were now surrounded by
Blackness, bruises
You taught us
With your silence
You said you were fine
No, it didn’t hurt
You taught us
I cried. Your pajamas were
Ripped, shredded
You smiled with calmness
And you taught us
I was just like you
Everyone said, it made me happy
Then.
You taught us
I was different
I pulled out of it
I would not take it
You taught me
I learned not to be like you
My sisters did not.