Bread One, Now Bread Two

Note: I'm somewhat hesitant to post this as its sort of sing-song-y. I think of it as a Dr. Seuss poem. But, here goes.

--------------------------

hustling and bustling
and running around
now frenzied
and panicked
searching about

the car keys are missing
not one set but two
we need them to drive
oh what will we do

our friends
waiting curbside
for us to arrive
any moment
they say
as they look
down the drive

five minutes
now ten
fifteen passes by
our friends still are waiting
for us to arrive
the wind it is blowing
the rainfall not slight
oh come soon
they plea
in the cold
of the night

oh Lord
won't you help us
find the lost keys
one set would be plenty
(can't drive with two keys)

immediately
my eyes
are drawn to the chair
and next to the side table
sitting right there
the keys covered up
with a plethora of stuff
thank you God
we rejoice
as we grab for
the keys

my husband
he runs
to the van
in a flash

wait a moment
my dear
there's more to this prayer

next to the coffeemaker
shadowed by beans
we'd looked there before
no keys to be seen
now look once again
and there the keys hid

our God
is so good
when we ask Him for bread
bread one does appear
bread one, now bread two
bread three closely follows
bread four, five, and six
bread upon bread
never ending for us

for our God
has plenty-plenty
when we pause to appeal
and open our hearts
and our lives
to Him yield

A Mother's Heart

Heart of My Heart
Little girl mine
My face pressed up against glass
Yearning to hold her
Touch denied
My Mother’s Heart shattered

History repeats
Shatter
Shattered
Shattering

Now I am nine
Beaten up on the way home
Crying
Cowering
Scared
My Mother’s Mother’s Heart Shattered

At twenty
I leave home
It’s my life
Leave me alone
Off to Africa
Adventures unknown
Again
My Mother’s Mother’s Heart Shattered

Son #1
Molested
Angry
Striking out in Rage
I hold him tight
Taking in all he puts out
My Mother’s Heart Shattered

History repeats
Shatter
Shattered
Shattering

Son #2
His full lusty cry
Disturbs tiny babes in neonatal
Merconium ingested
Now he must heal
My Mother’s Heart Shattered

Each new event
With child at the center
Abused
Hurt
Held back
Injured
A Mother’s Heart Shattered

Broken into pieces
Busted apart
Violently
Softly
Quietly
Loudly
Too many pieces to know where to start

Reknit
Mended
Made whole once more
Love the adhesive
Guaranteed to restore

At sixteen
My daughter despairs
Life is too heavy
No hope ahead
Ten?
Twenty?
Thirty?
Could it be more?
Tiny white pills
Call poison control

History repeats
Shatter
Shattered
Shattering

We pack her a bag
Hold back the tears
Take her to a place to deal with her fears
She speaks out with acid
Turns down our great love
The lock clicks behind us
As we leave her to heal

What a wonderful thing
A Mother’s Heart is
Shatter
Shattered
Shattering

Restored by our love.


2/14/2007

Backspace Broken

I am turning the pages of a novel
redolent with missed lives
adventures
lost loves
who exactly am I?

I glue tesserae on a substrate
mixing colors and textures
expensively purchased
carelessly found
a metaphor for my life?
am I an artist
a creator
melding hand and eye and heart
tears flowing into thinset

I log on each day
reach unseen across plains, mountains, seas
to grasp the hand
of another
opening eyes together
in a new way
teacher
student
which am I
I am which

Wiping bottoms
kissing knees
grounding wayward ways
abused
neglected
essential
nipples nuturing
spring forth unbidden
leaking love
my shirt is stained

wife
writer
photographer
friend

Could've been, would've been, might yet be

Lost connections
vital strong now broken
shattered by absence and
neglect
once meant so much
I miss them
why did I let them go?

Be the nanny
travel 'round the world

Train plane bus
to Chicago
editing a magazine

Marry the plumber?
he couldn't spell
no easy home for an english major

Enjoy injera
doro wat
in Addis Ababa

To much to fit in one carload
weighed down
by choices
vases, pictures, capsules of
memories made
two sets of silverware
a bike
gingerbread houses

Who did I think I was
did I become?

Dancing in the moonlight
weeping at dawn

Going going gone
life flies by

I sit at the computer and type
my life in the letters
print screen
enter
shift

backspace broken

white out
always leaves a mark

The Starting Point

It's Thursday, January 8, 2009. I have two other blogs, they're work related. I'm creating this blog because I need someplace to express myself. Personally. So this blog does not have a theme. Sometimes I'll post the birds I've seen, my newest mosaic work, poetry. Other times, I'll write of my dreams or just mutter under my breath. It is what it is. Talking to myself. Out loud. Graffiti. Writing on the Wall.