married to a man
who cannot remember
she needs a hug every day
to stay alive inside
47 obituaries
after I read your obituary
I exhaled
now I can walk into ShopRite
without expecting to see your face at the end of the
coffee aisle
now I can turn onto Spring Street at dusk
without thinking Was that your silhouette in front of the
parking meter!?!
now I can answer the phone
without thinking you might have finally found me...
but that was not your obituary
that was a
different lover
<catching my breath>
three down,
maybe forty-four
obituaries to go
Spring Mirage
At the outer limits
of what I could stand
of winter
With the same desperation
as the desert wanderer
who stumbles upon an oasis
and drinks heartily
I saw a robin
My "MICA" Child
(Ode to My "Mentally Ill, Chemically Addicted" Loved One)
I've seen many horrors
I've seen many horrors
But few can compare
With the look in your eyes
When you just don't care
You stand blank before me
No joy on your face
Anxiety hovers
Wherever you pace
Depression consumes you
You hide in your room
My grief knows no limits
Your fate? Death, your doom?
There's no way to help you
You have to decide
You can fight all your troubles
Or not, you can hide
I wait it out, hopeful
I celebrate now
Today you're still breathing
Will you survive? How?
Prayer to Saint Jude
(haiku)
booze has lost its kick
memories haunt and won't let go
there is no escape
Life Is Not a Dress Rehearsal
When now I look back at the dreams I had early
My great expectations, to live a full life
To experience tugging the edges of possible
Learning and loving and giving and strife
I'd invent grand new plans as I worked toward my future
I'd reach for new heights, give great effort, and thanks
I'd achieve my best hopes, and my peers would acknowledge
We'd made the world nicer, we'd closed up the ranks
And while I was waiting for my little curtain
To rise, I'd rehearse all my lines, so I'd shine
I'd press neat my costume and do my own make-up
And fuss with my props and insist I was fine
I argued the plot with the cast, the director
I sulked in my dressing room, far from the stage
I could not see myself in this role I was destined
To play, I would write my own script, as a sage
I auditioned each morning for new roles I wanted
In plays that had not yet seen light of day
I vaguely felt certain the course for my action
Would start, any minute, I'd know what to say
As I read the reviews of my peers in their roles
Their astounding successes, their families, careers
Their latest falls downhill, after such greatness
Retired, now grandparents, years upon years
I feel kind of jealous, like I missed my calling
But lately I realize I never did start
While all those around me were playing society
I sought perfection, deep down in my heart
Never did I think I'd ever have trouble
In finding my place in the world as a star
But I've stumbled blindly, alone and in circles
And missing my mark, I can now see how far
winter stampede
(haiku)
bread, milk, eggs, water
panicked shoppers clear the shelves
rumors of snow storm
patience
(haibun)
As my son undergoes treatment in a residential facility
designed to aid the MICA (mentally ill, chemically addicted) client, I sit at
home, writing haiku, waiting to hear some positive news from either his
therapist or from my son himself. I revisit our path, the one we have traveled
together through life thus far.
I search for signs that this nightmare is soon to be over,
that his recovery is within sight, that we will be happily reunited, that we
will take a moment next year at this time to give thanks for continued
progress, that Thanksgiving will take on a new meaning, as a milestone in
living, not just in sobriety, but in creating a new and wonderful life full of
the possibilities of summer.
I wait by the phone, to hear happy news.
pawing through the snow
looking for spring, signs of life
nothing but dead leaves
the empty nest
there are worse ways
to spend your life
than trapped
with the person who
once made you happy
sleep
if you once ever
stopped for a
second
in the middle of
your hurt
feeling quite
misunderstood
and wronged
and oppressed
even
and had such dark
thoughts
of being hated
despised
looked on as
ignorant
stupid
hopelessly
incorrigible
dirty
you felt like no
one wanted to touch you
smell you
everyone wished
you had not been born
nor any of
your ilk
and you began to think to yourself
I am beginning to
think
I understand
what it must be
like
to hear the n word
shot in my
direction
like a flaming
poisoned arrow
straight at my
heart
and smash into
smithereens my s e n s e
of m e
and then
you sat up
relaxed
and felt proud of yourself
for having
succeeded
in finally o
p e n
i n g
your mind
you smiled
went to bed
went to sleep
and f o
r g o
t . . .
until I just now reminded you of your moment of righteous
realization that you are now fully
o p
e n -
m i n
d e d
go back to sleep
for you are not open-minded
when you wake up
still without a clue
come back here
I will kiss you on both cheeks
and s
t i l
l this will not wake you up
when you do wake
you will not rest
if you did know
you could not sleep
while I cry
you.
will.
not.
sleep.
w
h
i
l
e
I
c
c
r
y
y
Spring Love Dance
(haiku)
Oh, beautiful fir!
Two birds, dancing their love dance
Their nest, in your boughs
Town Crier
(haiku)
Hark! My heart quickens...
My Mourning Dove calls, "Here's Spring!"
Spring! Here, at long last!
The New Kid on the Writer's Block
I hate when my characters
Start to play "Freeze Tag"
They might be in mid-stride
They suddenly freeze
No, I can't make them giggle
I can't make them fall
I can't make them talk
Can't move them at all
It's a child's game, you see
A fool's game, on me
They want to be set free
They hover, in glee
They wait for a tap
The signal to run
The signal to play
They're just having fun
But I am not "It"
It's not me they obey
So this game, it goes on
It might go on all day
I watch them, all poised
I see their next step
But refusing to take it
They whisper, "Not yet"
We wait 'til the Muse
Makes her rounds, sets them free
She'll touch each one's shoulder
They'll run home, to me
Rocks in Place
I watch the horizon
Emerging at dawn
I don't see the rocks
Posing there on the lawn
My eyes are drawn high
Way, way up, to the sky
To the clouds, to the sun
To the day's chance of fun!
Mere rocks stand no chance
Of a mention in verse
Look ahead to what's best!
Just ignore what is worse
Sullen rocks crouch down low
Though embraced by the dew
They hide bits of earth
On a bare spot, or two
Amidst the green leaves
Of the grasses, the
hue
Of pink flowers
And red, and bright orange, and blue!
Lowly rocks, go to sleep
No one cares about you
My heart wants to soar
Seeking yellows, and more!
Dawn's light, my delight,
Comes now slowly in view
Little rocks on the ground
Silent, dull... Still around?
Just don't make a sound
My eyes scan the skies
See the clouds
Singing loud
Day, at last!
Wonders vast!
Hope for joy!
Life's a toy!
Play, and say,
Life's a blast!
Boring rocks
Have no place
Show no grace
Still exist?
They've no face
I ignore
Boring rocks
Underfoot
Blocking light
Which gives life
To more grass
And more flowers
More color
More alive
More soaring, gliding, dawning, wondering joy!
chemical bondage
(haiku)
fighting addiction
I feel like I'm endlessly
rumbling with wolf packs
(written in sympathy with those struggling to survive chemical bondage)
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