just take three kids,
toss in ten more,
stir up some screams,
splash in a bit of sunlight,
add ice-cold water,
a dose of shade,
and bake for three hours.
pull your party
out of the oven
and serve warmth.
Month: August 2011
Tabula Rasa
before this great institution
you have a tabula rasa—
you could start fresh,
show the world innovation,
speak the language of the plants.
but in your usual
conglomeration of unspoken words,
you have filled your slate
with water-sucking weeds
stealing the words from native beauty.
Peas
three peas in a pod
you stand in uniform
ready to pop out
and show the world
a new day has begun
Hills
what kind of work
allows you to pack up,
swim your way through the air,
and live as an ex-pat
for two months?
i can dream, can’t i?
instead i watch
as bills pile up, as
we take our daughters’ allowance
to go for a family outing,
and i regret
the long drives,
the friendly plane ride,
and every penny that we don’t have.
i wish my pedals would work,
would bend back the money
i should be saving on gas,
the money lost on a new battery,
a dishwasher,
food for our table.
i wish
that the energy i burn
in twenty-six miles
would be enough to transfer
to everything i’ve ever wanted.
but the hills?
they are steep,
miles long,
and keep popping up.
A Sunday Afternoon
girls pose like little models,
even the baby smiles
underneath the bright flashes
(she’s not a baby anymore–
why must i be reminded
that five years
have slipped into oblivion?)
the clouds move in
on a Sunday afternoon,
a semi-quiet house
where they pretend to pick up
while we lie on the couch
reminiscing the twin bed
we shared so many years ago.
(with money clenched
like fists in pockets,
we borrowed furniture,
walked across ant-biting carpet,
washed dishes by hand,
roasted like oily chicken
in the absence of central air)
is it so different now,
our money spilling out
into the screens of tomorrow,
the cool air tickling our skin
as their tweeting songs
remind us of all we have seen,
all we have yet to see?
Cast Away
my moon was awake
full and bright
casting my stress
with hands of night
the breeze came out
shunning the heat
on the swing i sat
dangling my feet
my thoughts swirled round
a storm in my head
while my pup rested gently
under covers in bed
if only the screen
could wash away fears
make the work worthwhile
and cast away tears
Unemployed Words
if words could work
i could buy the right food
food to feed them
food to nurture the Earth
rather than strip her of
her natural beauty
if words would work
we could respond yes
throw our three-dollar-dinner
into the wastebasket
and forget the one week and
ten dollars left till payday
if words could cure
the tears would be smiles
and they could have
the ice cream cones of their dreams
instead of the cheap flavorless popsicles
that melt before they can get a taste
of the world with my words.
Come Write In
step write up
i’ll give you a chair
the keys you’ll need
to get you there
step write up
and come write in
you’ll see the light
i’ve been promisin’
step write up
make your name known
you won’t regret
the words you’ll own
step write up
the door’s unlatched
from your brain
ideas will hatch
step write up
you’ll be all write
put down your dreams
and watch their flight.
Closed Eyes
with closed eyes we see the world
blanketed by senseless screens
absent of real words
imagery we can’t understand
with closed eyes the world sees us
hidden behind doors
lost from human contact
connections we can’t define
with closed eyes we see the world
painted with desire
immersed in ourselves
love we cannot celebrate
Huntsman
like a hunter in hiding,
you pounce perfectly
as I try to escape
you think you’ve caught me,
but your trap doesn’t dig–
my ankle is free for running
I offer you a portion,
a tiny morsel to munch,
but you are not a master huntsman.
you will only see me
as the prey you trapped too late,
the remainder of the meal left on the table.
Step Write Up 