beliefs

Garden

/ lovizmytrio / Leave a comment

we could build a garden.
you plant the seeds,
i’ll sprinkle bits of water.
together we’ll pull weeds,
we’ll break our backs
under hot summer sun.
we’ll stomp through rainshowers
to check on our sprouts.
we’ll set up bean trees
and underground hoses.

beauty will burst at harvest.
leaves will take over soil.
juicy vegetables will glisten
and drip down our chins,
and we can stand back
admiring our toil,
so proud that we took the time
to listen, work, wait,
to see what could come from the earth,
from each other’s souls.

A Star is Born

/ lovizmytrio / Leave a comment

don’t hold her back
my sister tells me
knowing how her spirit was crushed
and i am twisted between
what i think is right
what i know is wrong
wondering where the manual is
knowing there isn’t one.

just like the quilt
i cross-stitched over my pregnant belly
the words
A Star is Born
she leads them on limitless adventures
hours of imaginative play
shining so brightly
that nothing i say or do
could possibly quench the light.

i just can’t be
the mother i was taught to be
and though her vibrancy
twists at strings of guilt within me
it is me
and i will have to love her
for the child she is,
the child i was never able to be.

Peaks

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if i could take those peaks,
the rays of sunlight streaming,
snatch them up from my desktop pic,
from the hands that formed them

if i could have the magical hands
that shaped this imperfect world
then perhaps i could put in perspective
the shame that hovers darker than clouds,
blocks those rays from reaching my heart.

but i can’t. i’m not God, nor have the magic
that you so desire, that seeps out of her eyes
with remorse for my harsh words, her unveiling,
that sends you to bed with night two of anguish.

if i could take those peaks,
those rays of sunlight in my hands,
i would wash our sins with the elevated air,
reshape who you are in my eyes,
release the shame from both of our souls.

Sunday

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we move through Sunday
finishing written work
reading words from foreigners
disappearing into imaginary worlds.

we step into the reality
of controlled chaos,
endlessly flashing lights,
banging balls, screaming children.

birthday party aside, we slip into nature,
our shoes sliding across dirt
that tickles the wind with views
of waterfowl-filled wetlands.

this isn’t the church he grew up with
(the one i never knew)
but with fingers interlaced
we can still see the true beauty of God.

Perspective

/ lovizmytrio / Leave a comment

with her
my words are stunted, stuck
my smile hollow, forced
my heart racing, anxious

she can see through me
and calls me on my lack of words
when later the message arrives.

i cannot see through her
nor understand her motivation
nor can bear the thought
of who she sees through those eyes.

is it me
or an altered version of myself,
twisted, inadequate,
the one i try to hide,
the one you seem to never see?

Sparkling

/ lovizmytrio / 1 Comment

my morning begins
delving into darkness.
just far enough to reach
every constellation,
city lights sparkling,
a gold-threaded quilt
thrown upon the plains,
shadowy hills holding
spotlighted pavement

my day ends
bathed in light.
wind whipping my tires home,
sun splashing its mockery
of rainless spring clouds,
glistening snow-capped peaks
gathering sparkling skyscrapers
in a picture frame of beauty,
sunlit pavement.

for you
the darkness dissipates,
melts into the sparkling spirit
of a new day.

Worth

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this is what i want:
for these words to be worth something.
dollar signs.
gymnastics lessons.
food for my family.
a roof, a car, a new bike.

anything but what they are:
published to all,
read by few,
as meaningless as who i am
in this place where my words
mean nothing.

Me

/ lovizmytrio / 1 Comment

i don’t want to be here.
i’m good at this.
i’ve read enough
to share stories and articles
with my co-teachers,
have taught enough
to take over their lessons on the fly,
remember her words enough
to stand at the front and teach
while simultaneously seeing students
for who they really are,
can move through classrooms
and schedules with
hauntingly smooth ease,
can grade a stack of 150
short constructed responses
before the state test is over
and still take the time
to cry a little when i see
how poor a student’s score will be

but i cannot
i cannot
take the tears out of my four-year-old’s eyes
after the rushed-morning goodbye,
the words i cannot take back,
the days
the months
the years
i cannot take back,
the me
(the mommy me)
who i fear will never be as good
as the me
who walks down these hallways.

Copy

/ lovizmytrio / Leave a comment

Dear Phil:

I saw that book you gave me.
Remember?
The best-first-year
beat-up, bedraggled
copy you’d
“given to all your proteges”?

You forgot something.
I wasn’t your protege.

I didn’t need to hear
how Kari won
best-first-year-teacher
the year before
or
how I “might not get
rehired”
if I couldn’t control
period six.

I needed for you
to not be my mother
to not be my father
to not be
the beat-up
bedraggled
copy of criticism
that had followed me
all of my life.

Do you remember?
It was my first year
and one of your last.
At least you can walk away
knowing you
were there for me.

Love,
The Best First Year

Commute

/ lovizmytrio / Leave a comment

cat’s paws on glass
dented side panel
dash lights that haven’t
worked in five years
bits of wrappings
from kids’ endless
candy expenditures
taped-on headlight
zip-tied bumper
broken visor
windshield crack
of spider-ice
locks and windows
you have to open
by hand
broken cup holders
too small for any drink
radio numbers
you can no longer see.

and you dare ask
how i could layer on
thick butt pad
sports-bra undershirt
two long underwear tops
one long underwear bottom
bike capris
two pairs of socks
two sets of gloves
a bandana, hat, scarf
a helmet and headphones
a saddle bag filled with
lunch and work clothes?

oh.
you missed
the silver sliver of moon
the last star of night
the windless morn
Aurora’s pink fingertips
painting the sky
the top of the hill home
where the curving road
presented its framed picture
of the city skyline
distantly mirrored
by snow-capped fourteeners.

i understand.
you would rather be warm.
i would rather have warmth.