Posts for June 29, 2023 (page 6)

Category
Poem

All In A Day’s Work

You sit beside me
we laugh
we sigh
we whisper
we eat lunch and watch netflix
we curse
we roll our eyes
we snicker
we huff and puff
we grunt.

All in a day’s work.


Registration photo of Amy Figgs for the LexPoMo 2023 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

Trauma Response: flight

To be anywhere
but here,
in this moment
at this time.
To experience 
any sensation
except this heaviness
in my chest.

My feet have begun
to move
without permission
from my
mind.

No time for packing.
My eyes search for
any view except
this ugliness
that faces me.

I can’t stay
I can’t sit here
with this
with you.

My heart,
my soul
have already left.
My body is
all that remains.


Category
Poem

Honeysmog

Hallowed is the Harlequin,

Half hearted hunger and malaise,
Choked by a smog.
These days when I can feel my teeth chipping,
And that old thought resurfacing;
Like a mouthful of blood,
You have to swallow it down and keep biting.
 
All sunshine shaded, 
Shakes and shivers on an empty stomach,
Febrile and relishing in
Mustn’t bes and better nots,
And bitter thoughts and barely theres;
Buzzing bees and unaware.


Category
Poem

Sidesteps

Sitting is stable,
but I’m unable to sit
by waysides: it stings,

the trapped breath lining 
my insides because my mind
races as I rest. 

I’d rather run at
my bedside than stop, unwind
till I’m twine without

knots, gasping as I
say it all, gulping poison 
as cure, blindsided 

by why the pain won’t 
subside. Stagnant beats strangled,
but sickness spins ‘still’’

into a question —
it’s the aside: “Please, heart, be
the source, not the sink.” 


Category
Poem

O LexPoMo—Month of June! How the Other Months Envy You!

 

They look askance.

This poetry attention.

(Well, except April.)


Category
Poem

The One I Run to…

There is no damn conceivable reason
That rationalizes the irrational
There is no damn retrievable season
That could take us back…

But.
Here I stand.
Still. As a clear and ghosted night.
Unmoving.
Can’t let you from my sight.

Muscle tensed.
Ready at any moment to run,
Run to you
Who takes solace knowing, to you I succumb 

The one.

The one I mull through every minute detail of life,
The one I can’t wait to share my poems to,
leaving out the words that may hurt you…

Because, no doubt they are pointed indeed,
Leaving no mercy for you or for me

This is why I simply can’t, and don’t,
Though, conscious says the word is “won’t”

Your approval could take me to the moon
And
Your burning eyes may take me there soon

Intertwined in every cell of my being
It seems.
Haunted in daylight and the darkness of dreams,

By your unmatchable and intentional placement of hands,
Haunted now knowing the same hands found new places to land

However brief,
For whatever why,
She brought you relief,
Each time I see it, I wish you’d just lied

There is no damn conceivable reason,
Bullied and broken all parts of me now
There is no damn retrievable season
That could mend what I’ve allowed


Registration photo of Lennie Hay for the LexPoMo 2023 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

My Appetite

smirks at me in the late afternoon,
knows my years have not diminished her.
As dinner hour approaches she anticipates lamb
simmered in rosemary and red wine,
new potatoes, complemented by the tenderness
of green beans.    

She’s always been a burden for me.
My father praised her: Look at how much
my youngest eats.  

She summons a stufffed chicken
to dance for my delight.
Prods me to grate garlic and ginger,
to chop broccoli and bok choy.
She’s taught me pleasure found
in the smells and texture of prepping food.  

Don’t forget, she reminds me, add sweet
Chinese sausage. She pleads
for plumb potstickers steamed for dipping
in soy sauce and vinegar,
red pepper flakes float just for her
in a small bowl. 


Registration photo of Les the Mess for the LexPoMo 2023 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

Fire

Smoke is blocking son.
Darkness has begun and won;
Choke is brother’s fun.


Registration photo of Matt F. for the LexPoMo 2023 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

Omens

A small deer’s rush of bright vitality crossing a country road
A blur of fawn and white from the passenger window
We clipped it’s haunch end because she slowed
but did not stop
I imagine she was singularly thinking of the baby in the carseat 
anticipating a rear end or whiplash
Later she pulled fur from the grill and examined the unblemished black bumper
and marvelled at our good fortune
She died four months later almost to the day
And I marvel at the omens


Category
Poem

Whitelash

Father may I take one step forward?
No, you may not!
Take two steps back.
Father may I take one step forward?
Yes, you may.
Father may I take one step forward?
No, take one step back!
Father may I stay right where I’m at?
Yes, that’s exactly where I want you.