Posts for June 22, 2022 (page 5)

White display china
and unmarked carpet,
earned with pruned fingers
and disinfectant-dappled shirts,
also earn the comment
“she’s a maid”
and laughter.

It rings as
unimportant,
comical,
but to her
it rings
and rings
and rings.

She hears the scars,
whispering then weeping,
wilting under the low pitch
of laughter and the unspoken,
conspicuous hiss of
subservient,
submissive,
subpar.

Perhaps
it’s par for the course,
but she assumed
spouse and sister
suggested respect
instead of served it.

Promotions
and growing apart,
grasped with glee
and indifference,
later grasp a reconnecting,
rementioning of the comment
and reawakened laughter.

It rings as
unmattering,
inoffensive,
but to her
it rings
and rings
and rings.

They do not sense
the quips she carries,
actions she ignores,
concepts she accepts,
all she withers
beneath,
behind,
below.

Though
the laughter fades,
like dust on a bookcase,
a thought swims, settles back,
and she wonders
if she is a maid
of her making.

And it erupts.
A crystalline structure succumbing to clarity,
Now a wellspring of once closely guarded secrets.
Whereas whispers were once whisked away,
They stand now center stage in the garden,
A solely encompassing drive.

So we live with it.
A once shed skin,
Coiled in a hidden place,
Made mantle piece for all ceremony.

Windows weep in witness as on
The clerestory glass over our prayers today
A thousand-thousand drops cascade
To spill over like mothers’ tears for all the lost.  

Charles calls from Laguna Church to lament
How the monsoon rains have seeped past
Ceiling vigas where painted stories
Celebrate creation, merging myths.  

Now their rainbow weeps for creation
Spoiled. Co-chin will starve where
Arroyos surge as Shakok and Miochin
Contend amidst the flood.  

Drought-bound land drinks deep
The female rain and prays the weeping
Yet may yield healed ground
For people whose dreams dried  

As pledges died. We still raise eyes
To where agave americana
Spends all to pulse yellow
Stamen-spouses for posterity.

In Laguna mythology, Shakok is the spirit of winter and Miochin, of summer.  Co-chin is the wife of Shakok. Agave Americana is the century plant.

Combination lock
Fumbling packing tight
Avalanche threatens;

Wax coating fingers
Chunking press rumbles our bones
Red light flickers off;

Dark moon pulls foot up
As lip spills incantation
Postern now revealed.

June 1st

For now it seems like
We have all the time in the world.
Time for lazy afternoons
and porch swing lemonade.

Time for ice cream with friends
and pool dates with hotdogs
and trips to anywhere and everywhere!
Like the beach, or France!

I’m enjoying a staycation.
But that’s okay!
I have so many things to fill the hours with.
Like reading a book a week, or taking two extra classes.

June 21st

If I have all the time in the world,
why do I feel it slipping through my fingers?
A back to school sale already?
School’s been out for less than a month!

I do need a new backpack,
and a planner.
No, I don’t need to think about that yet.
I’ll need pencils too.

Ugh I’m so not ready to take pre-calculas.
I’m excited to see what friends I’ll have in my classes!
I hope my new writing teacher isn’t very strict.
Why did I sign up for AP Seminar?

I wonder what the new Freshman will be like?
I miss my friends.
I haven’t touched my violin all summer.
I don’t want classes to start back just yet.

I haven’t even finished my second extra course!
I’ve barely made a dent in my TBR.
I need to start July’s blog posts.
June’s almost over, and what have I done!

Hey, relax.
It’s okay.
You can take it easy.
You still have all the time in the world.

(Ode to Summer Solsitce)

Or has your libido kicked into overdrive
on this summer solstice
when the day crosses over to night,
disfigured by the absence of darkness.
Your mouth forms words
that I do not believe,
irreverent of the ancient ways,
dancing in the shadowless noon hour,
the sun standing on your head
so that no matter which way you turn,
everything is bright.
There is a moment, at the end of it,
when the Earth stops,
spinning neither forward nor back,
one face dark and the other light,
until it turns upside down
and night returns to our northern hemisphere
and days retreat like a sullen lover
hiding from your partner’s disapproval.

The 5 wrinkles by your eyes

When you smile at something that genuinely

Made you laugh.

The one strand of hair that never stayed put

No matter how many times

You used my brush.

The empty carton of marlboro ice

That sat on my back porch

For 6 days, that you chose to throw away.

You not wanting to use a coozie

Because it feels weird against your hand.

You flipping over my pool float

Because you were tired of

Swimming all alone.

My favorite velvet scrunchie

You borrowed

And kept around your wrist

For 2 months.

The little eye roll you do

When you are unsure of your response.

The last lime white claw

That we argued over

And you eventually gave to me.

You singing along to a One Direction song

Then acting like you never heard it before

When you found out it was One Direction.

The android charger

Plugged into my living room outlet

The picture of you golfing

On your profile logged into

my youtube home screen.

When you grabbed me by the wrist

And kissed me goodnight

Just to stay an hour later.

You never using a straw

But always grabbing an extra one

For me.

The way you held my hand

Under the blanket,

And two times over it.

When you told me you would never be

One the guys you watched hurt me,

And I cried.

How you kissed me in 3 different ways.

How you held me in 2.

And how you talked to me in 1.

I can name every little detail about you,

Like they’re freckles on my skin,

And you couldn’t even remember

That you fell in love with me

First.

I could go to a yoga studio
Find a lonely cozy spot in the middle of a forest
Travel to India in a self-discovery trip

But I’d never reflect upon life’s mysteries
As effectively as I do
The moment I cross those sliding doors  

Walking down the aisle where cereal boxes
And questions are kept
Mechanical steps, pushing cart  

Going back and forth mentally
Between my shopping list
And the last stupid comment I made  

Who says that?
Why wouldn’t you just keep your mouth shut?
Oh, there’s the yogurt I was looking for  

Two aisles down, coffee and worries
Everyone seems to be looking for sleepless-night meds
A faster heartbeat to hush a roaring head  

Frozen produce – funny, like my plans
Resting at the back, forgotten
With a thick ice layer of years of fear and self-doubt  

Turning right on the wild affection aisle a.k.a pet food section
Dry and wet options to sooth loneliness
A promise of and gratitude for furry honest love  

Arriving at the check-out with an almost-vomiting cart
Unevenly divided – some items I’ll have to pay
Plus a parade of questions I might never get to explain   

Loading my trunk, closing (firmly) the door
Enough living in my head
I’ll pretend to go back to real life instead 

carrot cake

Because one approach to quantum mechanics suggests multiverses

Each night before I sleep I concentrate

And attempt to “roll” myself  into  a better one

I hope that so far I’ve failed