love

The Cyclist’s Dilemma

/ lovizmytrio / Leave a comment

he will not forgive
shuns me in once warm places
i will not forget

in tears, she begs me
just get them started–i can’t–
grief bursts into halls

all papers graded
i read Spanish in silence
wait for final bell

a windy walk home
trailed by one-car dilemma
my cyclist shines

headlamp, gloves ready
January? my mistress
cycle through my stress

my peace offering:
the book he wanted to read
(he puts me on stage)

humiliate me?
i crave the Spanish smiles
he doesn’t know me

a windy ride home
cold clings to my clothes with hugs
cheeks on girls’ warm cheeks

this brief moment here
is all i’ve seen them today
my cycle spins on

Climate Change

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winter rollerblades
spray-bottle paths formed by girls
with no snow in sight

a sunny walk home
January thaws… nothing
worried hidden joy

oh but their smiles!
the earth is dying, but them?
they’re just having fun

i skate after them
till the sun escapes the day
tuck sorrow to bed

we all have our paths
formed by small hands and big hearts
climate changes us

Sunday Sundae

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January sun
makes summer out of winter
joyful ice cream stroll

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Ski Time

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wind and commitment
to ski, to time i don’t have
(nor money… either)

grumpy beginnings
end with every ten feet stops
and i want to quit

but then i’m alone
and make this my mountain home
if only a day

their end-of-day grins
make me rethink my lost time
lost heart, yes… now won

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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.

That Moment

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Modeled after “The Debt” by Paul Laurence Dunbar

that moment of giving in
when you know it is a sin
you taste the sweetest nectar
though it makes you a liar

too soon the taste is sour
all because of one hour
exalting joyous moment
will always be monument

then, it washed away your pain
hidden joy was found again
now, the pain’s here forever
if you’d known… you would never.

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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Ring Tones

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why do i hear bells
far-off church in my bedroom
while i try to sleep?

is it divine light
keeping me awake at night
or stress, magnified?

(i recall the bells
ringing love in Michelen–
Belgian waffle day

chocolate, Belgian beer
no words for: straight from the source
and the bell college

chiming through the square
an echo i can’t forget
haunting, pleasing me)

this isn’t Poe’s poem
oh but the bells, bells, bells, bells!!
chocolate for my soul

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Two Birds… Different Stones

/ lovizmytrio / 1 Comment

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

Pieceful Peace

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red-letter day starts
with no meetings, extra plan
and ends with yoga

all baskets empty
week of copies, lesson plans
teacher’s piece of peace

students were pleasant
chess-club-induced quiet house
recharges my soul

soon they’ll bombard me
with high-strung voices of youth
different piece of peace

i’ll take the pieces
fit them into life’s puzzle
each day can bring peace