Terminating Tanka
Without permission
they took my words and changed them,
left my name attached…
Part of me has left the room
vowing not to write again.
Without permission
they took my words and changed them,
left my name attached…
Part of me has left the room
vowing not to write again.
Mortimer Mortimer
You came to the clock shop seeking love
and wanting to offer the gift to time
An engraved pocketwatch was to be
the engagement gift for your intended bride
You wanted to bring happiness and love – and you did
You wanted to give – and recieve – and you did
but before the wedding, your beloved one dies
and time was cut short
Oh death, if we could see you as a loving companion
offering love and companionship
perhaps we would look upon you differently
For love doesn’t end when our mortal bodies die
Love lives on
The wise Grandfather clock advises,
“Just becasue someting ends
doesn’t mean it wasn’t a success.”
Pictures in frames reveal the smiling faces
of those who are no longer physically present
Oh! How you were loved when your
presence was tangible and comforting
Now you are gone
But not forgotten
Your faces still bring joy as well as tears
How nostalgic it is to recall moments
when time seemed to stand still
and a smile or wordless hug
made everything right
Memories remain, and our minds are
filled with memorible moments that were
like grains of sand
fleeting
as
they passed
through the hourglass of life
Memories are now the priceless
remiders of the gifts of
love and time
Within the wild wood
there blows a wailing wind
from wide dark windows
whittled into rock walls
the watchman whispers
for the wayward wanderer
whose willfulness wanes
when they walk without
wile or wantonness
wishing they were found
wondering why and where
the bewitching whistle
would be wound beneath
the world and wind
wary of the warning
of watery welcome
the watchman waits
wrestling with his want
to wreck the weak
and wound the wllling
that wager their will
and walk within
the wide dark windows
without witness
Pumping out wobbly hearts
assembly line style
on the kitchen table
Drawings become patterns for
my girls and me,
heart making masters
4 and 4
twin little flowers
Lily and Rose
sowing love.
Me at the machine
piecing together plaids, prints and woolens
Love stuffing experts they
glue on buttons and bows
final touches
save for one little corner
unsewn
love burtsting out
I think about
all the good things
that I have and worry
that someone out there
is going to figure out
that I’m not deserving
and take
them
and her
and this
all away
so every
single
day
I try
to soak in
like it is
the last day
When I was little I saw a patch of pretty flowers,
I knew I could pick them since they were not in the garden…
I ran inside, yelling “Ma-Ma! I got you some…daisies!!”
You called back -“it’s such been a long time since anyone
picked me some daisies… honey…these are dandelions.”
You still got out a litte vase and put them on display.
You showed me daisies were the white flowers on the teapot,
I got it right the next time…and total rapture to find
black-eyed Susans…I knew they would be just the ticket.
Boxes of old photos line the back of the antique store
Portraits of families and strong women
Old men when they were younger
Hang throughout the walls
Blue glass and figurines
Flow through the middle of the room
Hardwood floors creak with
Every step
Vinyls in cardboard boxes reek of good ole days
And illustrations of floral wallpapers
Smell like dust
Vintage clothes fill the front of the store
Old Victorian shoes that have seen far more
Boxes of newspapers
Shelves of old books
When I’m upset I imagine my favorite antique stores in great detail
And yearn for the treasures that have not been seen
One of the scariest words
is no-
an intangible weapon
that can hurt more than anything physical.
Standing alone,
it can shut down anything
and anyone.
It can stop things before they start,
shut down ideas born within people’s heads,
make sure that they never see the light of day,
simply for fear of having to face
those two letters.
It is an enemy none of us want to meet,
yet it is a weapon
that we haven’t thought twice
about using against others.
Letting it slip from the tongue
is so effortless-
aim for the target
and it will hit its mark every time.
Words were made to be used,
no matter how hard they are to hear.
Weapons were made to be used too,
but that doesn’t always mean they should be.
