her comments swallowed
like the Christmas morn semen
cranberry juice, please
i’m not defensive
just wish for white Christmases
like everyone else
i can win this game
Cards Against Humanity
with my best haiku
five girls are sleeping
in my parents’ bungalow
i love my city
my favorite movie
It’s a Wonderful Life, YES!!
live and Live and LIVE!!!!
as they grow older
it’s no longer life and death
over midnight cries
now? supply, demand
business modeled parenting
what if we run out?
what can i buy or give
to make them happy, love me?
which–time or gifts?
it’s never enough
they’re either spoiled or loved
often hard to tell
give them the world
so they’ll toss it back to me
demand better one
it’s human nature
to aspire for what’s not there
i’m never enough
love should be enough
i’m up nights loving too much
(they never see this)
as they grow older
i miss the crying days when
i knew they loved me
a hug was enough
to make it through a tough time
and they were all mine
no one will say this
they’ll say how much easier
they’re independent
independent, yes
from our once easy embrace
to face life’s demands
and to demand more
to make me question myself
will this be enough?
no simple response
to parenthood dilemmas
enough guilt tonight
i looked back because of the hits
and there were no haikus
no strict syllable limitations
to the words he watches me hold back
just the brutality of me
full force. in my middle girl’s words
spoken so harshly in the witching hour
that’s how it was then.
poetry without borders, PWB
just doesn’t work the same as DWB
though the after-effect?
like bourbon to the virgin
you would know if you’d been there.
you’d know how painfully dangerous
that hot liquid could burn your soul.
and he would stop. the car.
that’s how bad.
because you reading this?
and all the rest of the non-stalking world?
if you had him at home?
you wouldn’t carry that demon.
it would be buried. six feet under.
and you’d walk the city streets
and set free your child and live
live
live
like every moment was your last.
standing room only
crowd hushed for collegiate speech
from a sixth grader
bright academics
the spotlight shines on this school
rainbow of world
social injustice
swept under a brave chorus
strict rules understood
forgotten pencil
equals hour detention?
path drawn to success
unified voices
remedy doubtful choices
good god let them sing
social butterfly
three drinks, chips and salsa in
what i wouldn’t give
i missed their parties
guilt sits behind every sip
will they forgive me?
daughter’s frantic call
and knowing that he’d be there
sum up afternoon
endless work awaits
there’s never a break from life
just a different drink
another stressed day
just before Christmas bustle
lost to this sickness
tears fresh this morning
frozen pond glistening dawn
star-studded boathouse
guilt trailing my job
as he rushed home, two sick girls
and me? meetings, plans
she came back today
babyless, unpacking shelves
repacking her life
her despondence stung
i couldn’t leave her alone
burdened with boxes
we made plans, had lunch
I got your card, she told me
we’re not sending any
no family photo
for his first, never Christmas
(this is what i hear)
but she won’t say that,
leaves me lines to read between
your girls’ pic was great
her grief in all words
she tells of Christmas-free plans
prepared to move on
this i carry home
with oldest’s three earned awards
to my handsome chef
his job ends next week
i won’t worry who’ll nurse them
and make chicken soup
noodles fall from spoons
and girls, all better, delight
priceless remedy
now they’ll discuss me
what will he do now, and you?
i’ll have no answer
only the safety
of the home he makes for us
beyond what they see
like a lost puppy
he waits every afternoon
hoping for some help
i enable him
wonder where his friends might be
knowing he has none
everyday struggles
of left-behind countries, wars
haunt my students’ lives
tomorrow, the same
i’ll give him the look; give in
heart too wrenched for no
i’ll carry work home
(not as heavy as his load)
pray peace will find us
the aches and fevers
mid-week stay-with-me stresses
medicine won’t work
she came in a dream
all better (never better)
if only the truth
i hate trapped secrets
the solid weight of her truth
worth liquefying
they have stopped asking
bless the sick season for that
(she’ll be sick for life)
losing a baby,
making candy memories,
alcoholism:
all life sentences
that never bring forth the dream
that they’d imagined
pitiful attempt
to show the world justice
ditching the walkout
after school, they beg
for classwork i can’t explain
in four short minutes
but the ones who stayed
sit, work with me for hours
tackling learning
one interrupts us
asking where the food bank is
to feed his family
i’m taken aback
a perfect student, born here
why is he hungry?
then, the Taliban:
lost her mother in Iran
falling off a horse
social injustice
propels their failed walkout day
served up after school
a dish to take home
a harder bite to swallow
as schools save us all
Friday afternoon
lights fall to meet autumn nights
but you are not here
knowing, my heart aches
secrecy’s not my style
but brutal truth hurts
i’d take back the words
but they’re lost in confession
forgiven, lost, here
just as you should be
beside me with hugs in hand
building my haiku
instead she shows me
engraved Jack Daniels bottle
twenty-one years out
i tell her i’ll cry
and write her a poem later
about that bottle
never in his mouth
infancy or twenty-one
may he rest in peace
you and i would cry
after she left us drinking
but you’re not here, friend
the way the world works
i won’t have you beside me
twenty-one years out
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