Voluntarism

It's one of those things,

it sounds good when ambition bites you,

And you look at an empty calendar,

Worried about staying home all the time.

Sign up,

Make plans, 

Do good;

Volunteering as an activity

when it comes down to it;

another to do on the list,

altruism and organization

at its finest.  

Phobia

Phobia poem

It's real, really,

a fear of fears,

When your mind is convinced

you are invincible,

and fear is a failure,

rather than cautionary; 

phobophobia.

Wired

Wired

I'm on a tight rope,

Waiting to fall when I lean back

Or forward

Or sideways,

I'm wired on coffee

Wishing for the right answer

Without the angst.

If Only....

Imagined Life....

If I had chosen another, 

I'd be in Carolina, wearing orange,

Gazing at a naked white strip

Where commitment used to be;

My mother would be in my living room

Everyday

Instead of a voice through the phone.

An innocent child world be wearing 

Orange too,

Wondering why 

Daddy ran off with an old girlfriend.

If Only...

If I'd only called,

Reached out, 

Apologized and empathized,

When I was scared of my own

Weakness;

Maybe you wouldn't 

Haunt my dreams.

Wires Crossed

Chewing through wire,

Intent on breaking in

And nesting amid soft pink snow;

High pitched squeals of indignant righteousness echo

As the bb pellets miss, barely;

The eviction of the squirrels.

Stay or Go?

Stay or Go?

A soft, pink bed beckons,

with little hands and arms reaching up,

Desperate for one more hug,

One more talk.

I reach down more often than not,

and stay,

Because she's my only,

And ignore the dire warnings 

behind me.

Sometimes,

when sleep is overpowering me,

I go,

And also let go of the guilt 

then, too.  

In the Cards....

A hurricane comin,

Anger and hate swirlin,

Betrayal exposed

A realization

It wasn't in the cards

Life still rolls on.

The Bulletin Board

I know you don't look here,

But please,

Grab milk and wine

Every time

You run to the store.

Poem about a picture

Majestic purple hides

Dark, lurking green

And I marvel at the millions of dots

That make up the canvas

of waterlogged lilies.

Metronome Patterns

Metronome

Clock

An incessant 

Predictable

Assault on the quiet morning.

The pattern is set--

Wake, work, sleep;

With no pause for breath.

Anger Management

The storm surges,

Overwhelming rationality,

Bathing her eyes in a a gentle glow

Of red.

The pounding quickens,

Hearts dance erratically;

Red hot words spew forth in waves,

And it crescendos.

The deep breath,

The eye of the storm,

Will give a chance to pause

And evacuate

Before any more damage is done.

Clemson 2000 (Senior Year)

The swampy oppressive heat 

Each August 17

triggers

That feeling

When anything is possible.

Marching between yard lines

Saddled with expectations,

Dripping with sweat 

A signal of a new year,

New possibilities.

I am filled with longing,

A wish to restart,

Hoping to wiggle through chains of adulthood.

But my emergence flew by,

Captured only in bright pictures

And faded memories.

Up and Lift

​

Up and Lift

Rubber mixed with sweat cushion the

Guttural sounds;

Staring

Cursing

Fighting against

Sometimes winning

Iron, and will.

Beautiful long muscles

Dancing across impossibly strong backs,

Arms, Legs.

All preparing to lift up and

Win;

While impossibly lithe and pretty,

Letting others judge

Their perfection.

Poetry Wednesday

Stop

Breathe

Re calibrate

Reconfigure

And begin again.

Old Letters

I found a letter from 1997 I wrote you;

Sitting in 2016, it's a time capsule.

You really were my best friend

and I loved you.

I read a line about the boy I crushed on,

who, when I ran into him two summers after we met, 

wearing a polyester 70's disco shirt,

a small gold earring.

I said the connection was still there between us, but

knew something was different;

I had to again get to know

the man that houses the boy

who once wanted to kiss me in the moonlight.

Only,

that boy changed,

and she is a beautiful wordsmith.

I now understand why something was different between us

And you are gone.  

We memorialized you yesterday.

I cried a river and then drank wine and ate chocolate,

making my husband cry too.

God, you were so talented

and loved.

Your boys walked solemnly in the isle; 

Red, blonde, black tousled hair.

Did you know about him?  

What would you have said about her? 

I found her after you moved on,

before the beautiful service you arranged,

before my funeral dress was covered in Kleenex lint.

You both are intertwined in my memory;

dancing in the rain, uninhibited, uncontrollable, impressionable.

7/18/2016

The Distance: 1995, 2016

The Distance: 1995, 2016

Through the tunnel,

memories sharp from years of examination;

I see you dancing in the rain,

With wild abandon;

A unique voice I envied and loved.

And you are gone now.

I see him,

Beautiful and delicate,

Words like butterflies,

And the awkwardness;

I thought he was the one that got away.

I was thinking of you yesterday,

And started following rabbit holes,

Searching out what happened to him,

since I know what happened to you.

And he turned into a she.

The distance between a youthful summer,

All of us, 

That potential met;

And today, 

throwing words down between meetings,

mothering,

working,

reading.

I lost both of you 

And need to find my voice again.

Solo Driver

Solo driver

Deep breath in-

The honeysuckle permeates My memory

The same night many moons ago

The fresh smell

The possibilities as I slide in behind the wheel

Headed out for the first time alone;

The excitement for life stretching out in front

I crave that feeling

Freedom

Poetry Wednesday

Assemble

I assemble;

My thoughts, my ensemble, 

Carefully dressing in my armor.

Methodical, steady.

My portfolio completes the look;

Ready to jump in to the next job

The next stop on the line.

Making Peace

Making peace

At twilight 

The bird chirps dampened

She sits

Contemplating grace and the end

Realizing it's not up to her and others' yardsticks.

It's comforting 

But also hard to grasp;

The reconciliation between mind and heart

Will struggle making peace with it.

Catch up: Selections from the April Poem a Day challenge

He said she said

It'll be fine! We can get it done,

It won't cost much; 

It won't take long;

It's a great idea.

She replied, our budget is small-

It would be great;

But where will our budget come from?

Projects are always more than expected,

Take longer;

The things we do for the perfect house.

_____________________________________________________

Slowly I ease

Into my armor,

One sleeve then another

Girding myself for the backlash

Wrong hair wrong shirt

Wrong look

Then practice the mantra

I can do this

Preparing for the harsh light 

Of a Monday morning.

___________________________________________________________

Foolin

My grandma loved to play

Tricks on unsuspecting family;

Though the pine sol beach house

With no floors wasn't meant to be a joke.

We played with plastic poo,

And she laughed,

"Y'all quit foolin around!"

_____________________________________________________________

Urban love

They sit on the metro,

Facing a businessman who

Is in his own world

Like they are.

Gazing eyes

Wandering hands

Stray giggles.

They are freshmen in

This town,

With a lot to lean about how

Relationships work in

The capital.

_______________________________________________________________

Doodle

My hand unconsciously slides across

Paper, every time someone starts talking.

My black notebook is filled with

Random words in patterns

Ignoring the straight lines,

Reflecting my chaotic mind

When I'm puzzling out

The pieces of my life.

_________________________________________________________________

Hide out

Shhh, don't crack the floor!

We are pretending to be 

Invisible, giggling loudly!

The blankets and pillows cover

Out stuffed animals, and us

While we negotiate our hideout in

Our imagination.

_________________________________________________________________

Grateful

I am,

I swear-

When short bursts of silence come;

I sit, the quiet soothing my mind,

And contemplate an amazing life.

The trappings of success,

Or so they say.

But

In the moment,

When chaos spills out,

My list is a little too long,

I have to cater to everyone else,

When I forget to be grateful. 

_____________________________________________________________________

How silly to see

A half finished me

When all I want

Is quiet and whatnot.

Take it away

I did want to stay

In my skewed hibernation.

_____________________________________________________________________

In my limited experience

When the cracks start to show

That's when 

True intentions spill 

Over 

And reveal the passion

Behind the hello.

_____________________________________________________________________

Defensive

It's the best I can do,

But my mind is convinced

Other eyes and hearts are judging me.

The second guessing

The exhaustion

Feed a spiral

And I lash out.

_________________________________________________________________________

Last nerve

The second guessing

The backhanded compliments

The doubt;

Goodwill seeps out

On both sides,

Leaving us bitter 

Frustrated

Angry.

No respect from you

Means I am on

My last nerve. 

____________________________________________________________________________

Time out

My brain swirls

With lists and tidbits

Things I'm supposed to write down for posterity

With half finished thoughts

Meals....

Distracted by laundry

And housework

And family

Trying to fit in a workout

With meditation

Healthy snacks

Coloring pictures 

Meeting others' expectations.

Plus work!

Mommy needs a time out.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Outback

I remember When it was

The fanciest casual restaurant

We had;

The line spilled out of the door

Hour waits were the norm.

I went out with a boys' parents

And it was the most grown up I felt

At 16. 

________________________________________________________________________________

Vaunted pieces of paper stare back at me,

Assuring me I am overqualified 

And over stressed.

My office is quiet, but my daily stroll

Shows me the circus below,

And I am grateful to be off the 

Island, away from my comrades.

My computer dings with 

Reminders, 

Demands,

And doesn't give me a time to stop and think.

Information streams into my eyes

and out of my head,

And I am quizzed every time 

I see one of many bosses.

The office is a place

Where negotiations take place,

But no work can begin. 

______________________________________________________

Uncool

Be cool, they say-

What is that?

Is it to rise above

The noise,

Believe in yourself

Or is it also

Making others feel bad?

In school,

I was respectful to all

And labeled 

Uncool.

____________________________________________________________

Star-struck

My daughter asked me

To draw stars on her paper.

I tried to teach her

Moving my hand slowly 

But she wouldn't try

Violently resisted.

Frustration-- why did she not try, at least?

Two days later,

Hurrying in to pick her up,

Her teacher asked, did you teach her

How to draw stars?

She said mommy did.

And I was filled with love-

I can teach her by example,

Even when she wont mimic back.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Lost and found

One brief moment

From calm to panic--

I glance down at the insistent buzz,

And she flashes from here to gone.

I turn in panicked circles,

Not seeing her baby hair

Solid legs

Doll smile.

Dread overwhelms;

Then, out of a clothes rack

She pops out

Laughing at her game of chase

And I find my heart 

And my breath.

______________________________________________________________________________

The smell of sleep,

Slightly damp pillow cotton;

My head settles in just right.

I lift my feet up stretching my toes

My heels

To relax.

The eye pillow goes on

And I smell lavender through my dreams.

I drift off.

I love a good nights sleep.

_______________________________________________________________________________

It's a talent

Running both ways

Managing life 

On the tip of a needle;

My brain goes everywhere

Spiderweb of thoughts

No rhyme or reason

Haphazard.

_______________________________________________________________________________

When I finally called it,

Walked away 

I saw something reflected back in my eyes;

Was it judgement?

Unrequited love?

Anger? Sadness?

I think the thing

Left unsaid

Was relief 

I finally broke away.

Response:

I thought I loved you

And fought to hang on;

But I didn't really

Just wanted to control

Look good

Mold you into what I thought.

When you broke away

I was empty,

Because the love I felt 

Had already gone before you did.

Playground Politics

Playground Politics

"It's nothing, mom,"

She mumbles, picking a scab

Making it bleed

So she can feel something other than sad.

I jump to annoyed,

Thinking she's just being

Petulant,

Difficult.

And then I hear her again--her hurting heart

Shattered in a million pieces

Learning too early 

Not everyone is kind.

I stoop to hug her,

To cuddle

To fill her up with love

While I want to stomp the kid that 

Stomped her heart.

It's nothing to most

But everything in her world.

Coordinated Poem

Every movement

Thought

Deliberate

Considered;

We are intertwined

Completely,

With our lives,

Our dreams,

Our family

Coordinated intricately

One day

One decade 

At a time.

book poem

Prose and Morals, Lousia May Alcott 

I mentally breathe in the musty smell,

The old fashioned comfort,

Like my great grandmother's quilt wrapped around me,

As I tap to open.

The world has gone crazy, 

People have lost basic morals,

Societal structure,

Decency to others; I have just been 

In the crosshairs.

I read the comforting, 19th century view; 

Little women who were strong, where

Tragedy informed character.

Simple vantage, but powerful;

I remind myself how we should act.

LMA's sketches are

A balm of comfort when the world has

Rubbed me raw;

The red strand of morals running through

So anyone can pick up a bit, 

And remind themselves of how it should be,

When people respect others.

Linger....Poetry Wednesday

The band of pain around my chest,

Red hot

A breath is torture, daring my lungs to betray me into

A coughing fit.

This cannot linger,

I have too many commitments to 

Keep.

Under the Weather...

She was exhausted,

Sad,

fighting through the haze of the clouds,

outside and in.

Rest was not restful,

Because adrenaline rushed her,

making a peaceful bed wired.

The dark cloud settled above her head,

Figuratively of course,

And proceeded to shade her thoughts

Grey and gloomy.

A sliver of sunshine may help,

but

She's under the weather, with no intention

of throwing back the covers.  

Poetry Wednesday...

A million ways to fail

Sometimes just opening my eyes makes me cringe,

Rudely awakened from the relief of sleep,

Back in the middle of a story I feel overwhelmed to write.

Starting the day in the dead of night, 

I count with both hands the mistakes I made,

The harsh words I said,

The unjust thoughts that flitted through,

The better ways I could have acted yesterday.

I slog through the day, trying to meet expectations,

With flashes of inspiration and motivation

Through the fog.

It is those days that accomplishments feel like failures,

Like no task will get me to the promised land,

Like rocks hurled in front of a path that is dark

I will trip and fall and fail,

And laughter will echo.

I must hold to the light,

Keep going, though I can only see two steps in front,

Trust in the path I can dimly see,

And use every failure to get stronger,

To gain resilience,

Win.

Poetry Friday....

The Meeting

The door shuts.

I shaking with anger, incredulous

About the verbal attack,

The dismissal of my sweat and elbow, so

Flippantly, caught up in loud anger,

Blustery nonsense.  

And the thought buries in,

Is this the lens everyone sees me through?

The steady visits of others who witnessed say

No.  

But the seed of doubt persists.

My leaky eyes betrayed me, mirrored back

with pity, or so I think.  

So I pick up my ambition, my drive, my focus, 

To glue back together.

I think I'll hide

Until the raw wounds smooth over.

Poetry Wednesday 2/3/2016

Moments

Before my feet hit the floor, I see it:

The slow pumping of adrenaline a second before my legs go from heavy to flying;

The smell of early spring and its promise to refresh my life.

Before I sit down at my desk, I see it:

The jolt of happiness before opening a fresh page, blank to receive my ramblings;

The excitement of discovering my next big project.

Before I hug my daughter, I see it:

Baby soft hair nuzzling in my arm, almost speaking of her happy thought of the day;

The sweet taste of wine on my lips, the signal of  the weeks' close, a chance to pause.

Before I get ready for bed, I see it:

The rush of pleasure as hot water cascades the day away;

Crisp linen sheets, just laundered, white and new, ready to envelope me and let go.

My day in anticipation.