Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Remnant




Trying to ignore it
They turn away
Change conversation
Avoiding the horror
Of the obvious
Ridged scar
Memory of the knife
Fine line
Between birth and death
Elation and anguish
Tuck it away in a cozy little pocket
Smooth scar
Honorable reminder of
Victory of the battle
Success of healing
Joyful legacy of life
Beautiful scar




Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Silent Scream





Floating above the room
Looking down on their faces
Unaware of my presence
Then back in my body
Looking up at them
Still oblivious to my consciousness
As I wander
Between life and death
They don’t think
That I can hear their frail voices
Whisper of the next step,
Vital procedure
Or see the wrinkles that
Are permanently
Furrowing between their eyebrows
Tears that seem out of place
As I keep crossing back and forth
Between one world and another
Their eyes emit a silent prayer
Wondering how they cannot hear
My piercing cries
Of choosing one side or the other
Unmindful of my dilemma
And the invisible string
That they hold
Drawing me back to this side
Until we all open our eyes




Prompt #139 We Write Poems



Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Always Greener





Running from the hometown 


Homegrown soot


Closed minded, close knit


Judgmental looks


Immature taunts


Of the city of my upbringing


With dark cast clouds


Shadows that follow and haunt


Broken windows, rundown storefronts


Nauseating odors


Making me sad


Searching for a new life,


New beginning 

In a place just like home


With the familiar faces


Shared history


Rustic beauty and simplicity


That we all yearn for


Knowing your neighbors 


For generations


Comforted by the old cherished buildings


Congenial companions


Humorous characters


Making me feel wistful


For barefooted walks, 


Bacon scented breezes


The charm of the lovely dusk


In my romantic hometown


Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Apology to a Suffragette




Celebrating a milestone

Clutching on to my grandmother’s

Depression glass coffee cup,

Much like her,

Delicate and frail

Filled with something effervescent

Tickling my nose and thoughts

Caressing a memory

Stern gaze of disapproval

At a party long past

Holding a tumbler of vodka

For barely a moment

Drawing her ire

Glaring back, dagger looks

Between generations

Crying out for independence,

A rebellious voice

Defiantly pouring some of that

Holy Polish potion

Into her cherished

Sparkling clear

Teetotal-ing coffee cup

Gritting her teeth

Instilling fear in the room

She drank it down in one swig

Smiling for just a second,

Remembering with a wink.


Prompt #137 We Write Poems