Posts for June 16, 2022 (page 4)

Category
Poem

Moving Forward into a New Year: Intentions for 2022

My Appalachian work ethic and appreciation for where I am are
Unapologetically uninspired toward capital-A Achievements;
My ambition is more a crazy quilt of
Small treasures and tear-stained repurposed scraps
Pieced together with hands sometimes sure, sometimes shaky,
I seek more to grow simplicity
Than to live large
To find my breath, to catch my breath, to feel my breath catch,
To spread my arms wide, stand firm and look up like the ankh,
To savor lessons of hillbilly meets yogi in the stalwart, steady mountain,
To understand that no shame lives in getting my hands dirty
To move what can seem immovable with a slow, steady roll.
In this new year,
I intend to

Align
My mind, my heart, my spine
With a solid foundation in the Divine –
Body, mind, and soul in harmony
To support working toward my very best me.

Delight
In time well-spent sharing ripples of glee.
In the stir of my senses, the rhythms of trees.
In the steam of warm water, a sweet cup of tea.
In hush and color and creativity.
In words and in curves and a swirl of whimsy.

Embrace
Tears and wrinkles and thoughtful advice.
Tender times and sweet memories with my little tribe.
The circles of friendship, the heart of a child.
The vision of differences frolicking with alike
In each of our patterns and weirdness and stripes.

May I
Evermore hold space
To Align, Delight & Embrace.

Category
Poem

an interesting spot

boxes, some filled
some not
are everywhere
I have prepared a bedroom set, ready to be picked up by an eager purchaser
life is speeding along 
I counted and confirmed I am approaching
residence number six in this town
east side, west side, north side
and now
central
I dig through belongings, repeat 
I sort and stack, pack, toss
and for once do not take much time to reflect
there is no sentiment here
nothing negative, nothing overtly emotive
although this was the first place that was solely mine
every other residence I have shared in some form or capacity
so perhaps, I am leaving behind a first
my first place despite being middle aged when I approached
a symbol of my self sufficiency?
a sign that all will be well and currently is
well
          what we never imagine experiencing
is sometimes over the next hill
I learned that the hard way but look
I am moving onto place number two 
number two on the independence road
and what if…
I am ready, as ready as I am capable of being
change is warranted and there is no reason not
no reason not to change which is an interesting spot to strike out from
here I go


Category
Poem

Too Loud

I will stop writing about
Being queer
When my girlfriend and I
Can walk down
A busy sidewalk
Without a single stare
When I am asked about my partner
Instead of my boyfriend
When I see two girls kissing
On the television screen
Half as much as I see
A man and a woman
You tell us we are being too loud
I tell you
We are not being loud enough

Category
Poem

First Position

There it is
    One foot chasing another.

       Chassé 
           Chassé
              Chassé

                     GRAND jeté.

               Chassé
       Chassé

Balancé

Chase
Chase

                                             Throw

Chase 
Chase

           Try to retain your balance.

Chassé away
she breathes
Chassé away.


Category
Poem

You remind me

				You remind me

				 In the funeral home aisle,
				 you came to me
				 and told me that you
				 were thinking about me two
				 or three days ago.

				
                                 I put my left arm so
			         light as air around you
		                 as if to say I miss you, too--
                                 to suggest that you give me
			         poetry again. So you might know I’ll

				
		                 write your poem upon my heart.

Category
Poem

The Days That Were

Bobby Sox and Saddle Shoes
Page Boy, Duck Tail, Beehive haircuts.
Skirts with multi crenoline slips
Madras plaid, blue gym Bloomers.

Short shorts and Pedal Pushers,
two-piece swim suits
home permanent waves.

Dial telephones, TV invented.
Ed Sullivan show, Elvis a star.
Blue Suede Shoes, Heartbreak Hotel
on 45 rpm, played zillions of times.

Driver’s Ed Classes,
friend slumber parties,
first cigarette.

Becoming a Flutist
school marching band,
orchestra concerts.

Frisch’s Big Boy
after each football game.
Long telephone chats
scribbled notes passed in class.

Summer sun tanning days.
At night no AC
finding ways to keep cool.

Life as it was in my teens.

-Sue Neufarth Howard


Category
Poem

Bad Pain Day

I am stuck in this negative 
space 
Where you are leaving you have left you are left that is 
barbs and things
I wish I forgot I slang I slung I sling
These shards of 
Myself

I broke I am broken I am breaking off these parts
To prove I don’t need them anymore before anyone can
hurt them hurt me hurt me with them

And I crush them in my hands 
and they cut through they are cutting through they have cut through
Everywhere

And sometimes you.  Sometimes they cut through you, too.

I don’t want to possess the grace anymore to kiss 
My own smarting flesh, which so often you
Could and would and did. 
And forgave me
For my woundedness, my woundingness, for wounding the 

space

 between us.


Category
Poem

Divine Timing

I thought
The wound
Was festering
Under my
Bandage

I left it on
Far too long

I finally
Mustered
The courage
To rip it
Off

There

Where a
Gnarly gash
Had been

Was a galaxy
Of beautiful
Freckles

Begging
For sun


Category
Poem

Well-Trodden

A Path had been made.

A section of the wood floor was paler, and slightly lower than the edges near the cabinets.
The cracks between the wide boards had melded together in a buttery smooth varnish
made of time and the footprints of my ancestors.

Maybe with a few more decades of children running to steal bacon and sweets,
women stirring pots and putting away dishes,
reaching to answer the phone,
crossing to the open window to holler, “Supper Time,”

Maybe with a few more decades
the well-trodden center of the kitchen floor will become a trench,
smooth like the boat on a fancy sailboat.


Category
Poem

Stellar Dash

A long slash
     across the sky, incom-
          plete thought, signatory line
               scribed thorugh the ether so
                    fast it’s gone before the air of
                         there! is finished, a friction so
                              sudden it might be fiction. You
                                   have to ask yourself if you really
                                   saw it, that instantaneous burn that
                              seared itself onto your retina, the start
                         of it gone even as the end is fast fading.
                    And all of this from the mote trailing
               that cometary chunk of lumpen ice
          which passed this way some two
     millennia past, its long slow
slog through the heavens.