My Poems

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BIRTHDAYS  Miscellaneous Poetry
CHRISTMAS PAST
2004

HOME IMPROVEMENT

When I tell my son with pride,

"Some day this house will all be yours,"

We both crack up with laughter

As we eye the stark decor.

You see my home needs a makeover.

It's face is deeply marred.

It's lined, wrinkled and battered;

The years have left it scarred.

A new coat is in the offing

And some heat to ward off the chill.

Perhaps an electric fence

To keep the nosy neighbors still.

There's asbestos in the cellar.

The paint is loaded with lead.

No wonder the previous owners

Packed their bags and fled.

The windows are being replaced.

I'll expect it done without delay

Although the air that seeps in

Keeps the carbon monoxide at bay.

The strong gusting winds

Often fill the yard with debris

As the roof leaves its' mooring

In an effort to wrench free.

There are wires hanging loosely,

Noted the underwriter as he took stock.

Told me if I touched them

I'd be in for quite a shock.

However, this is my own little castle;

Part of my own American Dream

About to reach fruition

With me as the reigning queen.

SALES RESISTANCE

The door chime announces a caller.

I'm not yet out of bed.

"Go away! I'm not at home."

The visitor is not misled.

Rousing myself from comfort

I raise the blinds a crack

Discovering to my horror

A stranger peering back.

I dash to don some clothes

At the bell's persistent ring.

Knowing  it's a salesman

I vow not to buy a thing.

I yank open the door

Wearing hostility and aggression.

His well rehearsed spiel commences

As he ignores my grim expression.

His words relentlessly strung together

Like a Georgia chain gang crew,

"Stop!" I cry, hating myself,

"Put me down for two."

KING OF Z'S

The clock shouts out its noisome buzz

And to the household it is thunder;

Except for the one for whom it is intended

The King of Z's is in a deep slumber.

The walls seem to vibrate from the hum

Creating a slight, diffident breeze,

But he has not moved a single muscle

For he is the King of the Z's.

A voice from the dark calls out the time.

A slight stirring or so it may seem.

Eyes wide open he gives a thank you

Then silently slips back into his dream.

He's oblivious to his surroundings.

A benign smile on his lips is caught.

The King of Z's is an unconscious force

That defies description or thought.

Some people may be envious

For to sleep so unencumbered.

Some may cast a disparaging eye

While others are left simply to wonder.

The sun now hangs in western sky.

The day is over; it's true.

Finally the King from his coma arises

And says, "Here's another day gone down the tube."

I salute you, oh King of Z's.

Reveal your secret for God's sake.

While you are resting comfortably

I'm roaming the house wide awake.

SEPTEMBER

The lake is still now;

An occasional wave laps the shore

Induced by an occasional boater

Finally let alone to explore.

The beach, too, is still now;

Small footmarks in the sand

Have left faded impressions

Of a summer once so grand.

The castles that we built

Lay in a disheveled heap.

Like last year's dreams

They have been put to sleep.

But the navigator of our fantasies

Discovers that experience is the lure

In the re-capturing of a moment

That was never meant to endure.

JUST A LITTLE GUY

We're posing on the steps,

My smile trying to conceal

The rush of thoughts and emotions

I'm not ready to reveal.

Don't you love me anymore, you ask,

Squelching a tear in your eye.

You'll never know how much, I say,

Cause you're just a little guy.

Attentions are diverted

By an unexpected source.

Looking upwards you tell me

That the clouds look like a horse.

Driving past your house

I see you playing in the yard.

I lift my hand to wave and realize

It's just a memory that's been jarred.

Never got to kiss you

Or give you a hug goodbye.

How could you understand?

You're just a little guy.

   CARVER

He scared me half to death

The first time that we met.

Though just a mere bundle of fur,

I doubt I will ever forget

Those soulful eyes

That playful spirit and vim,

Those snoozes with eyes slightly open

His body so sleek and trim.

He was our Carver, the cat;

Occasionally demanding attention

While other times his whereabouts unknown

And where he went, he never did mention.

We will remember his plaintive meows

As he stood expectantly by his dish

Pleading, begging and whining for food

And someone to fulfill that wish.

Over time illness sapped his strength

And so his friskiness eventually did cease.

But, Carver, you were a source of delight;

May you rest in peace.

MY GRANDSON AND ME

My  grandson and I  are having such fun.

He's two and a half; I'm fifty one.

"Nana," he calls, "Where are you?"

I've gone to search for his missing shoe.

"Where's Steven?" he asks from behind the curtain.

It's a game we play, I pretend to be uncertain.

"Here I am!" he yells, with glee.

I love this moment; just my grandson and me.

Yawning widely, but fighting a nap,

He picks out a book and sits on my lap.

Cars, boats, trucks and trains,

Pointing, he identifies each by their name.

We sing rockabye baby when he climbs on my back;

Then suddenly decides he wants a fruit snack.

The gum in his mouth is no longer there.

Later I will find it embedded in my hair.

Rubbing his eyes he still resists sleep.

We rock to and fro till I don't hear a peep.

It's been quite a day, busy and free.

It's been quite a day for my grandson and me.

IDENTITY

I am someone's child,

And it's steep climb up the hill

Trying to attain an identity other than

Being the offspring that's always ill.

I am someone's mother,

A shadow oh so meek

Maintaining a low profile

So my child can reach his peak.

I am someone's grandma

And the word fills my heart;

But I am more than this.

I am separate and I am apart.

Forever recognized as someone's kin,

Rarely do I stand alone.

I silently plead for acknowledgement

For a uniqueness to call my own.

To be the anonymous face in the crowd

For whom there is little concern;

I am the unheard voice

Patiently awaiting my turn.

Perhaps my time will never come.

Could it be now and I'm just blind?

I do not wish to appear ungrateful

For the family by which I am defined.

But I want to be more than a leaf

Dangling from the family tree.

I want to make my mark;

I want someone to see me.

MY LIFE TODAY

No illustrations upon my arm

To commemorate some long forgotten man.

Nothing to signify a momentous occasion.

Nothing to describe me as I am.

My proboscis has no extra holes

Into which one might slip a ring.

My eyebrow remains unpierced

Unfettered by infection and other things.

It's been decades since I relented.

Just one small puncture into each lobe;

And fainting upon the sight of the needles,

I knew that was as far as I would ever go.

I restrain from exploring too deeply

When noticing a stud in the tongue.

There are some things I wish never to know,

And this just happens to be one.

An anachronism, I guess that's me.

And it's left me feeling low

To think that my life peaked

Twenty five years ago.

 hello, dear old friend

Hello, hello, dear old friend
The years have quietly tip-toed by
Gone down the road, around the bend.

But memories cannot be erased,
Cannot be obliterated
Put aside or replaced.

It's the fond recollections that are assuredly used
When life is unyielding,
And the spirit is bruised.

When the grumbling starts
Only a friend looks past the words
And sees into the heart.

Knows the words are strictly a shroud
Strictly to cover the pain
Of one so proud.

And then there's the laughter, rarely subdued,
Noticeably rambunctious
And occasionally crude.

To you, these words I wish to extend,
Be well, be happy
My dear old friend.
 

conflict

Stony silence
judgmental eyes
stilted speech
precarious skies

Glassware raised
a hesitant toast
familiar words
a remembered ghost

Rumors, stories
I's unfocused
no one saw
no one noticed

Moments slip
days slide
shades drawn
thoughts collide

Twisted dreams
roots of fear
leave, stay
the final jeer

obituary

Half a century upon which to ruminate;
Fifty years on which to ponder.
How many of those years were worthwhile;
How many of those years were squandered.

What if tomorrow I were no more.
How would the obituary read.
Would there be a roster of accomplishments
Or an infinite inventory of misdeeds.

Too debilitated to look ahead;
Five decades never to be undone.
Just grasping moment to moment,
Each breath a victory unsung.

Unwillingly clinging to history;
On the horizon the view impeded.
Sometimes guilt so overpowering,
Cautions insolently went unheeded.

Stonewalled by a time warp;
Every minute appears surreal.
Kidnapped by my own thoughts;
A lifetime to conceal.

A eulogy of unspoken words;
Unspoken thoughts, unspoken fear.
All that could be written was
Born there, died here.

ice queen

Through the eyes of many, the Ice Queen.
Through the eyes of many, an enigma;
But through my eyes I am just an entity
Trying to eradicate an unwanted stigma.

Cut and dried, cast out of stone.
Unsubstantiated rumors, unsubstantiated folk.
A warehouse of misinformation, by God.
People can't wait to jab and poke.

But what they observe is surface.
They never delve into the heart.
Why should there be an interest
When it's easier to tear apart.

There's a loneliness and longing,
But emotions become a trial.
The hurts, the secrets one must keep
Yet retain an outward smile.

The yearning never fades.
The hope rare abates.
Mentally when it all erupts
I'm thinking I can't wait.

But edging front and center
Is the knowledge and the pain
That what I was will hurt me,
And that I must refrain.

But come close anyway.
I need the touch, the feel.
Tell them here is warmth and kindness.
Tell them I am not steel.

untitled

Misplaced friendships, mistaken identity,
Thoughts crescendoing till I seethe.
Too fatigued and and too beat for battle,
Laboring over wants and needs.

Another silent day put to bed.
No sound sings out but my own.
Animated, intimate conversations,
The voices are mine alone.

Thoughts and feelings do not evaporate
On command or demand as if by decree.
Emotions cannot be sent into exile;
Stifled in some closet unable to breathe.

Vacuous words tossed so glibly
Trying to impersonate sincerity.
Friends, like fortunes, rise and fall
Engulfed in a climate of disparity.

Chewed up by an apathetic world.
Spit out like some accursed blight.
Left in a labyrinth to wonder
While wading through the debris of life.

So this is the way it's to be.
I can't say I comprehend.
Friendships need cultivation;
But nobody has the time to spend.

unscheduled departure

When you leave, that's it.
Not a memory, not a clue
That once upon a time
I was acquainted with you.

When inevitably you depart
The slate will be scrubbed clean.
No dust particles afloat,
No words of anger to demean.

Nothing to say here you once traveled,
No annoying granules in my shoe.
No footprints in the sand
To distract my every move.

There's a deadness deep within,
An iciness that will not thaw.
I curse myself relentlessly
For allowing my defenses to fall.

I think nothing; I feel nothing.
A mirage, an illusion that crumbled.
A momentary perversion of thought
That made me fall and stumble.

But I am here; I am now,
And while that is a risk,
You were simply a moment from the past
That never did exist.

seasons

The winter snows swirl upward.
My life searching for heaven's pinnacle.
My emotions whirling with each new gust.
I weep afraid I've become too cynical.

With spring the skies open up it's arms.
I cannot distinguish my tears from the rain.
Smelling the greenery slowly emerging,
A distant warble hints all is not in vain.

The heat of summer warms me;
But I have fallen into a prosaic routine.
All my winters, all my springs,
All have become long lost dreams.

By fall I am too lethargic.
 Elan buried in months of empty drive;
But winter is just around the corner.
Another year, another chance, another lie.

i can do without

I can do without
ashes flicked
in a freshly cleansed sink.

I can do without
gritty soap embedded with hair
and ugly feet that stink.

I can do without
pots and pans at midnight
stacked like the Leaning Tower.

I can do without
a Rorschach test of coffee stains
on a floor waxed only an hour.

I can do without
using the Hoover twice daily
sucking up kernels that didn't pop.

I can do without
meaningless dialogues
that always abruptly stop.

I can do without
my cheerfulness stonewalled
pretending everything is grand.

I find I can do very well,
thank you.
I can do without a man.