Poetry

I use the first one to pry myself out of bed.

The second I use to have make coffee,

It helps with the stirring.

Porridge for breakfast?

One spoonful after another.

My day seems calm enough to start.

I count my spoons and think

I might have enough to get through today.

Then halfway through the day

I have used a spoon to avert

a crisis in the plumbing.

Another goes talking to the technician.

A phone call from the school?

By the time the kids get home from school

I have no spoons left.

Not even one to stir the empty pot on the stove.

Supper may just be water tonight.

When the sirens blast

right beside your ear,

Is there a polite way

to tell the child

this is a sound you do not appreciate?

Bad

Horrible

Gross

Filthy

Jerk

Selfish

Terrible

Maniacal

Despicable

and

I love

 

Watching him groom himself is fine

but when he grabs a toy

and runs around insane, I laugh.

The youngest takes the string

and darts around the house.

Sometimes when he attacks successfully

he will do a barrel roll.

This is my favorite

because it tires both of them out!

It can be simple

or extremely complicated.

I have many things to enjoy.

Friends who I cherish.

I have a job that I usually like.

My children are mostly well behaved.

I have hobbies and pursuits that I find meaningful.

When my life is good

I realize it is very good!

 

What you said

makes no sense?

Why are you speaking?

The words are there

but they have no meaning!

Gibberish is all I hear

and the worst thing

is no on else is here!

The pink liquid drips down the side of the jars.

Cleanup stains my hands.

Now that I have bottled it

May I call it Beetlejuice?

To be on the safe side

don’t say it Three times!

The wind blows

scattering them across the courtyard.

The furry brown shape darts

chasing his invisible foe.

If he catches the leaf

he is happy

then darts after another.

Fall is cold this year

but watching my cat in the leaves warms my heart.

A cute little outfit.

Heels to match.

Friends to party with.

Supper is relished.

The journey to the club begins.

Drinks are purchased.

The dancing begins!

Bathroom breaks as required.

The groping man slapped!

He buys an apology drink.

Friends implore stay with us.

He’s not so bad.

The world says he apologized

maybe he’s a nice guy.

Saturday morning comes.

One bloody eye opens.

The hospital staff say luck was on my side.

As much hurt as he did

Life still breathes in this broken body.

 

White streaks that last only briefly.

They thin out and then fade.

Seen only from a distance

they seem unreal.

Imagination expects them to be writings.

Perhaps the gods are trying to tell us something.

Or just wanted us to see a different kind of beauty.