beliefs

Doors

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absenteeism
shuffles in a class bully
to begin my day

meeting turned sour
by news of favorite students
choosing other schools

(but i don’t blame them
after my reception here
and structure-less rules)

lunch: a cruel email
brings sixty minutes on hold
all for eight digits

if i had those numbers
for what i should earn each day
this wouldn’t matter

dean’s accusation
ends my locked-door afternoon
loss, theft, and questions

at home, door swings wide
my baby with arms open
smile bright as birth

we draw skating paths
multicolored chalk, sunsets
stress melts into love

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A Dream Unrealized

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Modeled after “Harlem” by Langston Hughes

What happens to a dream unrealized?

Does it disappear
like the morning mist?
Or wallow in sorrow
like a lover unkissed?
Does it bubble up
like a blister from a burn?
Or fall to ashes
like a loved one in an urn?

Maybe it just weeps
like a lost child.

Or does it run wild?

Super Sunday

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icy wonderland
perfect for dolls and yoga
warm inside Sunday

wrapped up for movies
stovetop cinnamon popcorn
cuddles all around

this is what love is
the everyday joys measured
with quiet moments

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Sonnet for Equality

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Modeled after “Sonnet XVIII” by William Shakespeare

Sonnet for Equality

Shall I compare you to a summer’s dream?
You are permanent in the public’s view
In this new world things can sometimes seem
As fair as fair can be if they ask you
But we all know that you don’t always shine
As bright as King summoned under His light
And with the devil, time oft stays behind
And souls oft forget to fight the good fight
Your absence makes a death toll hard to bear
When those in charge can only summon hate
Yet I know deep down you will always care
For humans who would like to change their fate
Equality, I ask for sweet returns
Into hearts seeking solace for their burns

Sobriety is Counted Sweetest

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Modeled after “Success is Counted Sweetest” by Emily Dickinson

Sobriety is counted sweetest
by those who never drink
to never know that poison
would allow you always think

Not one of all the drinkers
would admit that this is true
The devil’s tongue inside the drink
is what gives them joy anew

But if you’ve saved your soul
and avoided all the bars
You’ll have a peaceful life
and not toast your soul to stars

Stopping by a Mansion in my Neighborhood

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Modeled after “Stopping in the Woods on a Snowy Evening” by Robert Frost

Whose house this is I think I know
His wealth is in his business though
He will not see me nosing in
Or what news I’ll take when I go.

My little girls must think it odd
To stop here, so detached from God
Where money rules the heart’s desire,
To darkest greed he gives a nod.

They pull my wrists and ask to leave
And wonder why it is I grieve
The only other sound’s the truck
That brings his gold out to his sieve

The house is lovely, tall, and grand
But I will not lose where I stand:
With them I have the upper hand,
With them I have the upper hand.

Marade

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small signs and short legs
blue sky memories of faith
some fear is slipping

but in children’s eyes:
perfect for play and joy
humanity’s rainbow

if we could all climb
to the top of the goal post
his dream would come true

not just a Marade
a gathering of lost souls
hoping for what’s right

with their eyes, see it:
the world he wanted. Here.
not a shot fired.

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Underground

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we’ll never be friends
i mean, she’s just too damn rich
(she’s so nice, i think)

but conversations
that end play dates in our ‘hood
put us in our place

it’s finally done!
it took so long to finish!
now the kids can play!

(unrelated: us
two basement woes, money lost
to floods and landlords)

million-dollar homes
do not need finished basements
but she won’t see that

and we’ll never talk
beyond the superficial
(it’s kept underground)

now the kids can play
1000 square feet: more space
between us and them

Evening Prayers

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middle girl yoga
next to me in our small space
sisters couch cuddle

breathe into the night
find the pose that suits you best
family namaste

Two Birds… Different Stones

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i won’t give in here
too early, too adamant
a long semester

they need the structure
in walls unlike those at home
where they’re free as birds

they’ll hate me for it
but learning is needed more
than a text message

but how their wrath wins
with flippant parents’ lose tongues,
lack of discipline

my daily fight ends
with bickering daughters, cries,
skipping yoga class

table talk of love
afterward: apologies,
coloring, and peace

i will give in here
love lies deeper, lasts longer
flies free as a bird