marlene-dunham-1
American
I have always considered myself a writer, but never had time to write. / Now that the kids are grown and the husband is gone (divorced not died) I finally have time to myself. / I have been studying the classic forms as well as contemporary and free verse (which I must admdit I find daunting). / I write on Open Salon.com, Our Salon.Com & http://litlover.weebly.com/
I tripped over
the eggshells
again.
I’m supposed to tiptoe
but sometimes
they are scattered
where I don’t see them
or I didn’t think it mattered;
or they just appear
where a moment before
they did not exist.
So the path that least resists-
is taken.
Sometimes I forget.
(I have not seen them
for so long)
A simple conversation
turns –
There’s neither right nor wrong
but the eggshells emerge.
Decisions are made
on the spot
or not.
Depends.
To walk upon them
or confront them head on;
Turn my back,
(avoid confrontation)
or keep on track,
(Defend my reputation).
What will cause least disruption
in the end.?
I tripped over
the eggshells
again.
I could just walk on top
but then pay the price
of broken eggshells
in my life.
And start all over
or stop.
© 2012 Marlene Dunham
Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 11:58 PM UTC
Alone
at the bar, in town;
down the road to the right.
I was afraid
At first
But then,
at the sight
of the warm firelight
In the hearth
thru the window pane
It seemed safe
And beckoned me
to come in, though alone
Laughter filtered
Through the night air
The camaraderie,
good cheer
(perhaps it was the beer?)
spilling over into the hearts of all
that were here, this night
Heady days of my youth
in the old neighborhood
I would never give pause
Or turn and go home
because I was alone
Those folks were family and -
Everyone knew my name.
No difference tonight
Walk in and sit down.
remember your worth!
don’t feel old!
be bold!
Look, there’s a seat
by the fire.
Instantly - I belonged!
not a solitary soul
or mere spectator.
I was the majority,
part of the sorority,
of revelers and folk,
though nobody knew my name
all the same
I wondered why:
had I hesitated at the door.
Did I think I was too old
had I lost my nerve?
To enter the frey
Because they
Were strangers?
and so was I?
Alone,nomore
at the bar, in town;
down the road to the right.
The next stranger I see
enter through the glass doors
with a hesitant stare
I will smile, I think
and offer a drink
and try to share that feeling
of belonging!
(c) Marlene Dunham 2010
Jul 21, 2010
Jul 21, 2010 at 9:08 PM UTC
He carries her purse on his arm
without awkwardness;
His comfort shows he must have been caretaker,
for some time.
Yet awkward she does feel.
He carries her purse on his arm
as if it belonged there.
Just another parcel to be handled
with care; yet not a care
to what this stranger thought.
This old woman hobbles
ambling behind;
a footfall - thrusts her forward,
one more step.
Doesn’t he understand she wants to go forward -
no more? One step closer
to the grave,
she can sense.
The cane catching
and holding her steady;
The pain, catching
and holding her firm.
She follows his lead; always hitting the mark
with her blue veined hand
wrapped around that staff
in her grasp.
Her gait, unsteady,
wobbly at best
As he carries her purse on his arm,
She follows his lead
one step at a time
A crooked cane
her only assist for the
ambulatory impairment she bears;
as he carries her purse
on his arm.
© 2010 Marlene Dunham
Jul 20, 2010
Jul 20, 2010 at 9:11 PM UTC
Childhood should be carefree.
The hardest thoughts should be -
which tree to hide behind
So they won’t find me!
Colors of chalk
on the sidewalk.
What to draw today?
Which frilly dress
from the old wooden trunk will I pick?
Which bobble of beads from mom’s jewelry bin
Shall I loop around my neck and spin
like the ballerina atop a music box.
Running free on the water’s edge,
chasing sand dollars down the beach
as far as the eye could see and within reach.
These are what memories of childhood should be.
The jingle jangle of the ice cream truck
on a sunny summer day.
We immediately stop our play
and run;
First to mom for money,
then to the street to beat
the neighbor kids and be first in line
for a treat.
Childhood should be unfettered
of burdens and worry.
The qualms and cares of the world
in a hurry to destroy itself
should burden the shoulders of others.
Not brothers
or sisters.
Not the children.
Not the children.
I was their protector,
defender, guardian and guide;
They trusted me, to be their god
who would heal and deal
with pain and strife
of life;
How could I know
That I was not protecting them.
Enough?
© 2010 Marlene Dunham
Jul 8, 2010
Jul 8, 2010 at 7:18 PM UTC
One simple thought
goes astray,
away -
beyond the limits
of decorum.
A mind
goes blind;
Descends
to the realm
of madness.
When reality
is the brutality
of suffering
against all odds
and logic;
The mind’s on
a pivotal perch
of distortion;
Sinking to the depths
of despair.
How to escape?
Where to travel -
unravel?
Thoughts create,
minds negate.
Oh, to make things clear;
to again see
flee -
the insanity
of actuality.
What is real?
how to feel?
shall I kneel
and pray
for forgiveness?
for my mind
to find
its home?
But to whom do I say
my incantations?
Why do my thoughts go beyond?
Who’s to say what is wrong?
What is right
I am strong!
Not insane.
© 2010 Marlene Dunham
Jul 1, 2010
Jul 1, 2010 at 8:51 PM UTC
Seeds of the Dandelion
appear intertwined;
Tightly woven tendrils
weave and hold
in close bond;
Stretched fingers
offer anchor for each other,
though hesitant.
When the time is right
and the slightest wind blows,
seeds of the dandelion
go.
Parachutes of white snow.
A moment in time
stalk stands naked in the wind,
having lost everything;
Though the taproot runs deep
and in reality,
millions more will seek
a new birth.
We may think it a waste,
unwanted seeds being placed
hither and yon.
But what about the Dandelion?
Some call this **** a ruderal
this “lion’s tooth” with the long taproot
feeding bees and butterflies.
With detoxifying properties,
this plant has seen atrocities
of prejudice, bigotry and intolerance;
But it just goes on to do it’s job
holding on as long as it can
til the parachutes of snow
go
and the cycle of life repeats.
© Marlene Dunham 2010
Jun 26, 2010
Jun 26, 2010 at 12:07 PM UTC
Off Kilter
a bit askew
I’m sorry
I never knew.
My mind will not embrace the pure confusion
I’m sorry
I did not know
I don’t know what to do with all this tension
I now move forward with my apprehension
a bit off kilter does explain a lot
Confusion
not Delusion
My heart is breaking yet it tries to mend
my mind does not know where to spend
the energy it needs to find the answers
though forgiveness I am asking above all else.
I should have known
I never knew
I’m sorry
a bit askew
Off kilter
Jun 16, 2010
Jun 16, 2010 at 9:22 PM UTC
Memories linger, like a gentle breeze;
days of youth, those feelings of desire,
like heat from a burning kiln when fired;
The pottery glaze blisters as it frees
the finished sculptured work of art with ease.
Yet, the gentlest of touch is still required,
so this masterpiece can be retired.
If you, oh just once more, could hear my pleas!
I’d beg for one more chance at love this time
Though our bodies wracked and broken,
simply old
I long to feel the touch that I remember
Intoxicated by your breath near mine;
One day before life ends and I lose hold
To have you near, once more, I would surrender.
© 2010 Marlene Dunham
Jun 6, 2010
Jun 6, 2010 at 8:16 PM UTC
Volcanic eruption
corruption
unemployment
recession, depression
Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan
Earth quakes
rumbles
Wall Street crumbles
Haitian children wail
tidal waves prevail
Global warming
fiction or warning?
Taxes, health care
how to handle
the next scandal
Hawaiian birth
takes precedence
over incidents. Coincidence?
Arizona immigration
discrimination
Oil spill
of gigantic proportions
contortions
in the Gulf
causing strife, ending life
Bomb in Times Square
where? not here!
just sit and sip your beer
watch the world go by
with a wink and a sigh!
Sometimes we are powerless
nothing we can do
our head in the sand,
don't understand
not care, or dare
to question?
What is our place
in this space
our destiny and fate
to help our world continue on
so our children can survive?
The world is spinning out of control
Iraq, Iran, Afganistan
Quakes, Rumbles, Crumbles
Global Conservation, Preservation
Distortions, Contortions
Bombs and Beer
Dare to Care
Frenzied
© 2010 Marlene Dunham
May 22, 2010
May 22, 2010 at 8:46 PM UTC
The mighty wooden ship awaits,
the pirate and his *****
The massive sails and spinnakers bold
pondering seven seas.
Adventure beckons, be still my heart,
adrenalin rushing forth.
My pirate blood, from birth doth flood
my veins with plunderous thoughts.
But hark, my beloved approaches now
With chest of clothes abundant
She says we must first speak of things
so as not to be redundant.
“Before we leave dry land, I must confess
of second thoughts about our new address.
A secret that I’m holding must be shared:
…..I am a little scared.
Sea legs, I’ve none, nor a stomach strong.
Even my sense of direction is mostly wrong.
I’m just hoping that as your Pirate queen,
….. I do not turn green.
You’d love to sail away beyond far horizons,
though, if you must know, I cannot roam
further than my cell phone plan,
…..which is Verizon.
Oh let me think this through a minute,
My love, my one eyed wonder
To sail the earth to see the world
To steal and maim and plunder
Sounds like fun, but when we’re done -
I’ve broken my nails
On those ********* sails
and I don’t know my stern from my bow
My teacher of Zen
will want to know when
my monthly bill will be paid, anyhow.
So I think I must stay, oh and by the way,
Have the boatswain untie the cable
And get me that yawl or I swear I will crawl
To the dock as fast as I’m able.
I guess I’m not much of a buccaneer
but the thought of the trip made me sick.
So a pirate’s life is not one for a wife -
at least not a wife
with a hair appointment
on Thursday!
May 8, 2010
May 8, 2010 at 2:32 PM UTC