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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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!

Embrace life
Embrace those you love
Forget the strife
The push and shove
Of the world!
  
Be there for your family
Be there for your friends
If you must, **** it up,
Make amends.
Because life is too short
too precious, too dear
To take it for granted
Live life - while you’re here!
  
Guarantees of tomorrow
Do not exist
Dreams put on hold
If they must persist
Will be lost in the blink of an eye.
When you die.
  
Embrace life
Live for today
Love life
Mean what you say
Be the best you can be
Then you will see
Your purpose.
Embrace life!

REWIND


When I was a girl of twenty-two years,
there was the usual blood, sweat and tears
of life that’s lived when no one is watching
and naivety is all that’s botching
things up, in love and loss
and harsh mistakes.

Thoughts of my future rather than my will.
Should I not have aborted but stood still
to own the truth of my indiscretion,
and not lied to my love but made confession?
Perhaps he would have
decided to stay?

I have pondered much, these thirty-odd years.
Renounced the loathing of actions and fears
of misguided youth that lives in my soul
but will not dissipate though I am old.
Continuing on -
memories linger.

Wondering what that one life could have been.
Wondering if that was really a sin?
I question myself each year after year
though answers I don't expect to find here
in this life -
Still I mourn.

Rage

I saw it rear its ugly head,  
for just a moment, during our engagement.
Aren’t we always on our best behavior during that cycle of love?
There was an angry rage in his eyes, and voice, but then it was gone.  
As quickly as it appeared.  
I wondered about it, though.

Maybe it was my fault.  
Maybe it was my imagination.  
Yea, maybe it was my imagination.  
I wondered about it, though.

Years went by.  Rage grew.  I was afraid.
Afraid because these rages made no sense.  
They would come out of nowhere,
for no reason,
to no avail.  
Then, gone.

Dark clouds roil
Broil
Dust up
The dirt.
While winds howl
Through to the bowels
Of the earth.

Rains pour
More
Water than the earth can hold
In her cupped hand.
Overflow, purify, cleanse
It mends
The soul of the warrior girl.

A moment of calm peace
Like the fleece
Of the clouds that part their lips
To let through a speck of light.
Then clench their jaw
In awe
Of the courage they have observed.

Storms subside
Inside
The wet earth renewed
And dries its tears with the green of spring
Then new life sprouts
All about
And sheds the shroud of winter.

Opening eyes,
She sighs.
The storm has passed
And brought hope anew.
What winds could not blow away,
The rains did cleanse,
Today!

Words come
they go.

Words ebb
they flow.

At the depth of despair
(they are there)
or breaking free
they can float on ribbons of air.

Words

hurt,
they desert.
or **** a part
of the heart
in an instant.

When of pure hate
the weight
of them
can be my undoing

Words

Once released,
Lay bare.
They stare
at you
Unyielding;
  
With the grip of a vise
They adhere.
Can’t take them back
Or pack
Them away for another day.
  
No.

Words

Are

Powerful.

Too powerful.

Choose wisely,
my friend,
Depend/
On your own
Goodness.

Speak true and free
Love and honesty
Will guide your path
To life’s real meaning;

Because

Words

Can heal.
They seek and feel    
another heart,
and penetrate the shield.
  
Words of praise
and  encouragement
raise children of wisdom
and strength.

This wish for you, I leave
As you give, may you receive.
The karma of the universe,
and make the world a better place,
By how you use your words
  
Words come
they go

Words ebb
they flow.

You choose.

and

Use them wisely!

Cocktails


My folks would have cocktail parties
I remember as a child,
on Saturday nights in the city.
Cigarettes glowed, Martini’s flowed.

From the back bedroom, my sister and I
would listen to grown up chatter
as if some pearl of wisdom heard
would somehow really matter.

Kept awake by the noise,
we’d play a game of chicken
shoving each other round the corner
only to be stricken

with terror and embarrassment
as we stood in the middle of that space,
in our nightgowns and slippers
as if on stage, exposed, red faced,

and mortified, as the guests looked up
momentarily distracted from conversation.
With ****** expressions asking the question
“what could be their motivation”?

Then back to the festivities at hand,
paying no attention to the childish prank,
they continued smoking their cigarettes,
Manhattans, Martini’s - they drank.

As children we wondered
on those Saturday nights,
is this what grown “upness” is like?
Will we have to drink whiskey
and smoke Lucky Strike?


To have good friends and neighbors
Come to our parties
With trays of canapés and appetizers
Is that what will make us popular?
Happy, interesting, wiser?

We plotted and planned,
How our grown up lives
Would be different than mom and dad
It seemed silly to us to make such a fuss
When tomorrow they’d still be sad.

My folks would have cocktail parties
I remember as a child
on Saturday nights in the city
But the clink of ice, didn’t stop at night
It continued on through the daytime too!
Now wasn’t that a pity?

That phone call from my lawyer
gave me the courage to enter the house
where I raised both of my children
and endured, in silence, the abuse
of a controlling and angry husband
who would eventually end our marriage.

Twenty-five years ago, we married.
The end came last spring, with papers from my lawyer
stating unequivocally that my husband
would have to surrender the keys to the house
where our girls were subjected to his abuse.
Nothing was more important than protecting my children.

The most precious gift are my children
who ironically, would not exist if this man I did not marry.
Years ago, I could not know that in time, would come abuse.
I was told by family and friends to get myself a lawyer
and hold on to my dignity, my children, my home.
I would raise, protect and nurture them myself, without a husband.

Young girl’s fancies once danced in my head.  To have a husband,
to marry and live the American dream.  Have children,
a dog, a white picket fence surrounding the house.
All would be well, in this happily-ever-after marriage.
But, dreams turn to nightmares; the separation needs to be legal
to help me through this veil of pain and abuse.

For many things can be tolerated, but not abuse.
Be it physical or mental, from boyfriend or husband
The cycle needs to end, and therefore my lawyer
Drew up the papers to protect me and my children
and end an unraveling marriage.
So that there would be peace in my home.

Now my girls and I live together in our home,
free from strife, bitterness and abuse.
My prayer for them is that someday they will marry
a man of strength and integrity, a husband
a lover, a lifetime partner, loving her and his children.
A life such as this will not need a lawyer.

This is my tale of marriage, with children in the house
when it’s necessary to hire a lawyer, to stop the abuse
because of a controlling husband lording it over his children.

Lorraine exits outside the realm of life
But in my heart she always has a home
Her choice to stop the demon cost a price

Her mind became a circus too insane
Believing visions of religious ilk
Lorraine exits outside the realm of life

Now she’s at peace, I miss her but not sad
She stopped the madness, stopped the voices track
Her choice to stop the demon cost a price

I wonder what she would have grown to be?
Would she have overcome the chains that bound?
Lorraine exits outside the realm of life

My sister was my mentor, for a while
Until the life she knew lost all control
Her choice to stop the demon cost a price

And may she rest with knowledge we’re ok
The ones she left behind that fateful day
Lorraine exits outside the realm of life
Her choice to stop the demon cost a price

(almost) 60:
So what?
It’s only  
a lonely
number,
A digit,  
A widget  
A speck

       At 60:
Some are happy
But some, alone  
Without a home  
Others widowed,
Divorced  
or forced  
into Invisibility.

We are who we are.
Some poor,
some rich,  
some think it’s a *****.  
Black or white,
gay or straight  
love or hate.  
Life is what we make it

Growing older
has its perks.
There’s Social Security,  
more maturity,  
AARP.
Medicare,  
blue hair,  
Sr. Discount @ McDonald’s

Replace a hip.  
Botox a lip.  
The knee’s arthritic,  
the stomach acidic.  
Life is fragile,
And just like that!  
Snap!  
It could be gone!

Meandering down
the road of life.
Oblivious.  
Lascivious.  
  A relationship, or two.
Stopping for a beer,  
having a career,
driving with the top down.

Then… SLAM….
brick wall ahead….SIXTY!
Screech of brakes.  
For God’s sake.  
Sixty’s the new forty?
*******.  
Deal with it.  
Get your head on straight.  

It was Pete Townsend
who penned,
“I hope I die before I am old.”  
Truth be told?  
Older makes wiser.  
Wiser makes sense.  
Truth to dispense,  
and still a lot to learn,

Growing old “gracefully"
is an art in itself.
From middle age  
to Sage,  
we step into our skin,
and rejoice  
our voice  
is heard  

I will be thankful!
I’ll thank the Lord each day!
For my three gorgeous girls,  
the best friends in the world,  
and a job that pays the bills.
Wealth,
My health
To love myself
At 60.

Sixty is ****

If I lived through the sixties, I can live through the 60’s.

(maybe a **** or two would help though)

I AM MY OWN VALENTINE

Be My Valentine, You Say?
Give my heart away?
Not in a million years,
It causes tears.

Been there
Done that
Bought the Shirt
Got hurt.

I did love, when young
Got stung
Grew older
Got bolder

Then settled
For someone
I knew was not right
We’d Fight,

He would always say “I’m sorry
For the rage
But For the abuse
No excuse

It was good for awhile
A smile
Little mouths to feed
Children in need

You can’t walk away
From them!

It takes wisdom
And years
To figure it all out.
And have no doubt


To find your voice
To make a choice
Gain insight
Do what’s right

For all
Of them!

Be My valentine, You Say?
Give my heart away?
Not in a million years,
It causes tears.

Free now at last
Heartache is past
For all involved
Problem solved

Clouds  have lifted
The sun has appeared
Life is great
Celebrate!

But to those I love
You know who you are
Friends that are dear
I know you can hear

I give my heart

to all
Of you!