When I get out of quarantine
I’ll give away these ***** blue jeans,
I’ll wash my hair, I’ll drive somewhere,
I’ll breathe someone else’s air.
Oh what a happy day!
When I can put the games away.
I’ll go out to eat,
I’ll hug everyone I meet,
I’ll shake a stranger’s hand!
(I’ll do it because I can!)
No more six feet separation.
No more stinking isolation.
No more sanitizing
(That’ll be quite energizing!)
No more conference calls.
I’ll get away from these four walls.
I’ll be quite done with Zoom,
And sitting in my living room.
Let me make it clear, I’ll be outta here, I’ll throw away this screen!
When I get out, really out, when they finally, really, totally say --
I’m finished with this quarantine!
At least till next flu season.
Apr 4, 2020
Apr 4, 2020 at 12:26 PM UTC
He doesn’t understand, she thinks. It’s a sin to waste money.
She doesn’t understand, he thinks. Life is too short to worry about dollars and cents.
Life is long, she thinks. Start saving now, and our money will grow.
Who worries about the future at our age? he thinks.
It takes discipline, she thinks. You can’t eat candy every day.
Saving is like eating raw broccoli every day, he thinks.
We all need boundaries, she thinks.
I can’t live in a box, he thinks.
I would love to buy that red dress, she thinks. But I have too much self-discipline to do that.
She would look good in that red dress, he thinks. Maybe I should buy it for her.
He would probably buy that dress for me, she thinks. If I told him I wanted it.
She wouldn’t want me to buy that dress, he thinks. She’d say it was self-indulgent.
Would he buy the dress for me? she thinks. Would he do that?
She’d say it was sinful to buy that dress, he thinks.
If he bought the dress I’d have to take it back, she thinks. We need to save our money for a house.
She would take the dress back, he thinks. We’re supposed to be saving for a house.
It’s such a pretty dress, she thinks.
I guess I’m finally becoming an adult, he thinks.
I guess he’s finally becoming an adult, she thinks.
**** they think.
May 10, 2019
May 10, 2019 at 11:57 AM UTC
It's lovely
how green the trees look today,
their leaves rippling in the breeze like
a woman's hair. Springtime always made my sap run
hot, the energy blasting like a bolt
through my limbs. Now that randy charge is
a small steady pulse, faint but still there.
I take what joy remains, thankful for the
germination.
May 5, 2019
May 5, 2019 at 4:23 PM UTC
When the cinders cool and the answer seekers
pick their way through the charred rubble
what will they find? A medieval carpenter's chisel, a pair of rosary beads, pigeon droppings, the down from an angel's wing, the tears of saints.
Apr 16, 2019
Apr 16, 2019 at 10:54 PM UTC
all alone
writing this poem on my phone
hoping I hit the right keys
and I can squeeze
just one good metaphor
out of my tired brain
something that will not bore
something that will make you sure
a spark has passed between us
before the curtain of night
descends.
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 11:27 PM UTC
I had no No in my vocabulary,
No veto power,
No nix, no nullity, no negation.
I was the King of Affirmation,
Yes to this, yes to that.
I thought No would cut me off from love,
Friendship, belonging.
I couldn’t say that word to anyone,
Not nobody not nohow.
I was the Wizard of Yes.
The Emperor of Agreement.
The Yes Man to the universe.
What was I?
A character in someone else’s play,
Puppeting my way through life,
Following a program I did not write.
I had to have a word that was my own,
A firm, strong, stubborn word,
To crash the program, buck the tide.
Now I’m ready to know No.
For No has that stopping power.
No is the Final Word.
No tells you in no uncertain terms,
What you really want.
This is me, it says.
These are my boundaries.
This is my true and real self.
I’m in love with No.
No, No, No, No, No, No.
I like the way I say it, and I know
That only by shouting my No
Can I say Yes to Me.
Jun 3, 2017
Jun 3, 2017 at 2:02 PM UTC
The itch
of poetry,
I had it bad once,
Like a teenage allergy that bedeviled me
and then it was gone.
I thought I’d outgrown it.
No words
could make me sneeze
or make my eyes water.
I went many years immune to beauty,
with no urge to speak.
Never so much as a phrase, a word,
tickling me.
But I can feel it coming back;
the itch of words
that must be scratched out
or they will fester.
Come back Muse,
and scratch my back.
May 26, 2017
May 26, 2017 at 9:09 PM UTC
I’ll take two minutes’ time,
A dare to make a rhyme.
I don’t know what to say,
But somehow I’ll find a way
To grab the words I need,
With all good speed.
I don’t know why I care,
Or why I take this dare;
Turn my brains around,
To make a lovely sound.
It’s just a game with me,
I do it naturally.
What better thing to try,
To keep my mind spry?
I only had two minutes,
But there! I did it.
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 11:45 AM UTC
I’ve got a list of things to do
That’s longer than my arm;
As soon as Item 1 is finished,
It’s time for Item 2.
I never get a break it seems,
I’m always on the clock.
Would you believe I feel this stress
Even in my dreams?
My day is just an exercise
In busywork, I think.
I have no time for pleasure,
Or a joyful surprise.
But today is like a work of art,
The flowers are in bloom.
Isn’t that a gorgeous sky?
Such beauty fills my heart.
To heck with all those mindless tasks!
I’m tearing up my list!
I’m going to savor this fine day:
Enjoy it while it lasts.
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 5:12 PM UTC
If we never met,
If our paths never crossed
I'd have been zoning out in the void,
a lonely particle.
Me would be the only reality
in that cold dark emptiness.
But we bumped heads,
stuck together,
and BANG!
A universe,
beating hearts,
love.
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 11:21 PM UTC