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I waited so patiently for years
Could drown in all the sorrows and tears
Used to flush out my poor heart
But still I waited...
Like a wife that sends her husband off to war
because I knew you were fighting off demons
Things that I could not see
It's not like the darkness ever evaded me
You never returned from that war
I was left to fend off my darkness alone
Shouldering life tragedies on my own
But even then I waited...
Even though some days
There wasn't even any hope
And yet I still waited...
I waited though totally exhausted
I began to chafe at all the waiting;
Patiently,
I sent out my light once again
Like only a lighthouse does
To help you find your way back
Amongst all the turmoil and shadow
All these things I then came to know
Your love could be reawakened to grow
and where I had waited so patiently
You and that love did return to me
and my patience was finally set free
This is an older poem that I had started many years ago and I reworked it to be more current. I don't think I ever shared this here I found it in my drafts and finally finished it.
Now that I think about it
I haven't heard
a crossword
from her
all day
to lie on the warm sand at twilight
ripples of fleeting light
across a calm sea.
Like Harry Potter, the sorting hat (my mom)
has placed me in a ******, crimson colored school.
It’s disorienting, as I go about, the logos are wack.

Poor little rich girl
no beachside lovers
this interminable, scorching summer.

I’m swept up by scholastic spirit.
Can you hear it? Cause it’s deafening me,
on this cool, dry, Boston orientation day.

As we finished our morning 8k jog,
the sunrise blossomed, painting hot lava clouds
with hues of yellow, orange and pink.

We’re traipsing unfamiliar paths,
it’s not what we’re used to, the roads are uneven
and the architecture’s all boxy and wrong.
.
.
Songs for this:
New Toy by Lene Lovich
Better After All by Jonatha Brooke
Now At Last by *****
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 05/27/25:
Interminable: something that seemingly has no end
First Official s u m m e r Saturday,
weather personas correctly (!) advertise two hours of
sunny morning before the clouded
vanilla parchy brow of the sky
occludes any May
summertime fantastical notions

Sun low in the eastern sky crests at
acute angles,
and spills rays thru the tree'd
frothy cappuccino branches, which
under the influence of drunken
substantive gusts, shakes the rays
on the bright green lawn stage, casting a huge patchwork of shadows, and it's easy to conceive
many tall giant ballerinas dancing in a chaotic disharmonious modern choreography

Perhaps it's a Parson's choreo,
more likely the akimbo nature
of the motion motif,
a Body Traffic concoction

But the sun is gone by 9:30am,
the green stage is now just a
plain old green screen,
the shadowy ballerinas banished,
and my hand held porcelain mug,
frames the denuded scene,
only the invisible wind remains
to say:

oh it's you human,
back in para-dise,
did you expect perfection
of hot sun & hot coffee
awaiting your return?


East come, Easy West go,
this version of my true unheated coloration disappoints,
but I wait in on/no human,
said the triumvirate,
that rule the sky,


on this island of perpetual sunsets,
we do not guarantee a seating
of matched sets,
but visit with us tomorrow,
with poem praiseworthy,


and then,
again,
who ever knows?
Sat. May 25
2025
Shelter Island
The hatch’s eyes were glowing
Full of cellar lights
Flies whirred through
Out of a timeless thicket

In the thicket of timelessness
These moments existed
Because they are yet to come
Through mouths of stone-throwers

We were hidden in the night
In a crack of the station
Near Branko’s jowls
On a floor strewn with marbles

Glitter children
In search of faith
With red markers
From stairwell to stairwell

But the avenues longed for us
So we moved into the realm of leaves
Through a glowing hatch
Into the pull

A vast pull from yesterday
Full of bear cries
Amidst the glass houses
At the end of the downfall
The Thicket of Timelessness
Shoulders back,
chin up high,
I'm trying to look normal,
but this ID tells a lie,
and it is making me look
like a criminal.

This photo is ideal
with a serial number
on a mugger's profile,
on a database all alone.
My identity is distilled to this:
a stranger with a face of stone.

The camera captured everything
except my personality,
my smile, my kind eyes
and what makes me, me.
As my face became a moment,
falsified for bureaucracy.

©️Lizzie Bevis
Can you make a friend— like a craft project?
I know, I hear this parental voice, “just be yourself.”

All of my classes this semester will be in one building, but I’m a control freak, I wanted to walk my schedule, go class to class, like I will on my first day. I have a locker too—this is so high school—but I wanted to find it, try the combination and plan what I’ll carry. I have questions too, like how’s the wi-fi, are there charging outlets, and where can I get coffee?

Orientation is Tuesday—but who can wait until Tuesday? Classes start Wednesday.  I’d never sleep this weekend with so many questions. I’m already having dreams where I’m lost, late and embarrassed.

So there I was, this morning, dressed for class with my green messenger bag—doing it—schedule in hand. I went into a small auditorium with cushioned, crimson, theater seating—where my first class will be—and there’s this other girl, dressed for class, schedule in hand.

We were like twins, except she’s tall and black and I’m not. Right off she commanded me, handing me her phone, no preamble, no “How do you do,” to “Take my picture.”
Of course, I obeyed, I’m not from outer space. I burst 50 quick frames, as she slightly varied her pose and she did likewise for me.

Her name is Chella and she graduated from Yale last week too, with a ‘Bachelor of Science in Global Affairs.’ I think I saw her on campus once or twice but our paths had never directly crossed.
“But IS "Global Affairs" a science degree?” I asked skeptically.
“Probably not,” she answered, “but some of us can live with ambiguity.”
Her first direct, commanding phrase limns her personality perfectly.
Yeah, we hit it right off.
.
.
Songs for this:
Cruel To Be Kind by Letters to Cleo
Perfect Day by Povo
Are You Trying to Be Funny? by Everything But the Girl
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 05/24/25:
limn = to portray in clear sharp detail
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