Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Sep 2017 abecedarian
betterdays
the odd sockery
do but mock me
as the lego bits
grind the bones
of my heels
faintly i smell
old orange peel

toys, stuffed pell mell
into ye old treasure chest
the piece of three weeks old pizza
you ain't ever gonna unring that bell

favorite teddy at rest on window sill
looking far from his best
and in his snake-arium, lies bill
the blue tongued lizard lazy and still
on the shelf beside, the books
of the boy wizard,
the one with the glasses

the bed barely passes
the status of made
and in the nooks
his father created
all sorts of findings
and keepings and
thingamabobs are laid

bless, in the corner a beanbag, sags
with the weight of my world
and his book bag, all snuggled up
with the tuxedo cat, whose motor purrs
like a harley cruising on by

the room a catastrophe,  in it's early stages
but  at the sight of them my ire disengages
and i stop still and thank the stars in heaven
that these two are mine, that they are happy
and safe and incredibly fine

sunday afternoon in the burbs
somewhat, wonderfully sublime
 May 2015 abecedarian
Sjr1000
There is always reluctance
an airy breeze
in the hot room
stinging
whispering
"no no no".

It comes with change
it comes with
beginnings and endings
reluctance comes no matter what
in frozen dread
in anticipation read,
how far is it
from here to there
and to where
and to whom
do we go?

Reluctance in fear
seems to know
what you are most afraid of
but no matter so,
put on your dancing shoes
pull out
your roller skates
too.

Time's a storm
that's blowing through
though your sails
maybe tattered
it doesn't matter
it's moving you.

Reluctance
certainly has its say
in an impotent kind of way.
Choices made
not made
While we all grow a little bit older
grow a little bit wiser
each and every day,
Reluctance
is
going to grab you
make you see its way.
 May 2015 abecedarian
betterdays
oh woe is me!!!
have pity, cruel and
heartless world.
the sky now fallen.
my sadness,
unfurled.
i sail, upon a ship
of abject misery.
i sit at the helm
and weep and cry 
and moan and mewl
til, my eyes have
run out of 
wet, n' salted fuel.

now, those who know me,
are wondering why,
me, who writes happiness.
is having a hysterical cry.
if i can but,
bring myself,
to tell you why, 
you must be generous,
of heart, and not say fie.
my big, catastrophe,
bigger than you know.
is a death, in the family...

they have lingered long
and been, a dear friend.
but this morning i went to see them and they were gone!!
and oh dear me!
what an embarassing end...
it is,sad,
beyond,sad.
i cannot tell a lie.

here its is....  in all it's badness:
MY JEANS DONE DIED
(pause now for a sobbing, dramatic.....sigh!!!)
now you have finished laughing
at me i will explain why,
this is, not a matter for disdain.....
i have/had this pair, of favourite, faded, blue,white jeans.
had them long enough,
that they had done,
the complete circle
and come back into fashion....
had them longer than,
my child, my husband, my car,
my present job. 

they knew me, so well and
so comfortable too.
i went to wear them,
this morning,
as a pick me up treat....
(cause to be honest,
been feelin kinda beat)
and lo and behold,
they fell apart, at my feet

the crotch, had frayed away
and if i had worn them,
my smalls and privates,
would be saying a cheeky, g'day....
so i am sad 
and an old friend has departed. 
but at least it happened in private  and not at work, when i farted....

i tonight, will give them, a burial, tried and true in the duster bin... and then drink to them,
with tonic and gin.
fare thee well,
my faithful, denim friend.
and consider this to be...
your heartfelt eulogy
 May 2015 abecedarian
betterdays
in cold crisp air,
with steaming breath
and hearts open and laid bare.

we stand and remember.

the bugle sounds,
carry across the river
to meet the rising sun.
then it is quiet again.

we stand and remember

in tearful, grateful silence,
we stand and give honour
to, too many young men
who went a soldiering,
never to come home again.

we stand and remember

and in the rows before us,
old men they soldier on,
standing to attention
remembering wars long gone
and mates and foes and battlfields
and letters come from home.


faces resolute, set to the sun
as the bugle calls.. the last post,
remembering remembering
the wars that are long gone...

we stand and remember.

poppies, lie in drifts of red
in the air the scent
of pine trees and rosemary....
wreaths of hard fought grace,
lay placed with grateful thanks
below the names enscribed
upon the cenotaph's granite plane.

we stand and remember

the sun comes up,
with gentle, golden face
upon this special, sacred place.
we stand shrouded by memory
of those who fought and fell
and lie in a far distant place.

we stand and remember.
we will remember them....
lest we forget....
Dawn Service 25th April 2015
100 years since the ANZACS landed
at Gallipoli..
A moving service of commemoration.

Lest we forget.
 May 2015 abecedarian
betterdays
it's all I have,
not much, to you, but all
and with my heart torn asunder
I watch my life, my labour,
resting here, for you to plunder...

ravage the fields,
torch the meadows
**** the bees
and watch the clover
wither...

count not the cost
of your rapacious greed,
see only your hearts selfish need
to be the sum the total, the all.

not knowing, in your victory
you become...the pall,
that settles in the room
and stops the conversation,
like smog and a locust infestation.

this is my life, my family
and we do, what we do
to remain free of heartache
and negativity.

we need not your benediction,
or blessing of our grace.
so...you look to yours and
shut your face....


**********
napowrimo2015
promp­t : write a parody or satirical
poem...utalizing a famous poem you know


"It's all I have to bring today –
This, and my heart beside –
This, and my heart, and all the fields –
And all the meadows wide –
Be sure you count – should I forget
Some one the sum could tell –
This, and my heart, and all the Bees
Which in the Clover dwell"

**Emily Dickenson.
started out as something different,
but ended up as apoem about my frustration with my brother's need
to compete and put me down...
when he visits....
he needs to be at all times
the king of the castle... middle child syndrome.....
(and yes it would be easier not to invite him....but my mother dotes on him.... family dynamics **** sometimes.)
so there it is.... in all it's pettiness.
You say,
"This is awkward."
The way most people point out that it's raining.
It's obvious that yes,
It is.
Your hand is on the button and
your eyes are on the ground
and I'm waiting to go up while
you're waiting to go down and
it's funny.
I wonder why you find this so awkward
but I don't ask.
Maybe it's because you wear coward so well and I, lioness,
greet you well with grinning teeth and
confidence.
In this very moment, technology and
its failure have become
my new favorite
elephant in the room,
stomping about blindly,
pushing its trunk into the space between us,
I love this discomfort.
I love the tension thick as rope.
I love that you probably wish you could tie it around your neck right now.
I stare directly into you
because I love feeding the caged animal.
I am an intentional catalyst for your internal,
"Oh ****."
Is this what happens
when there is too much weakness
on one side for closure?
When the scales shift to the right
And the left falls completely?
Does it make you uneasy
that I still exist after you stopped talking to me?
bless this malfunctioning, how
I am grateful for the comedy
for these few minutes of entertainment
and your desperation hanging from your pockets,
I could see it clearly,
how awkward.
 May 2015 abecedarian
betterdays
let me be,*                       
  a bird,
that slips the clutch
of this grasping world
 and flies into the sky,
held aloft by hollow bones.
air that whispers,
grace into my wings
and the innate courage
that tells me:

*
I was born to fly
Next page