Rachael Keeney: Poems

Jun 2021 · 83

Rachael Keeney Jun 2021

Pretty Broken One

King of his castle, you making his scorching coffee at 7 years old,
Correctly—One rounded teaspoon of sugar and
Enough milk to change it to a light brown.

Be careful not to spill it,
Walking on egg shells that are hurting your bare feet,
Walking from a post-supper kitchen,
To a dimly lit dining room.

You decide to say something, thinking of your mama
Working at the office late again, because
She is too proud to admit to her family that
She paired up with a man that tried to control her.

At night, after she would read to you at bed time, she
Talked about the respect she felt at work,
But not here.
Mama reassured you—
Someday, you would find your voice too.

Daddy, I would like to play soft ball.
Think girl. Your brother has little league.
Head down, you start to walk away.
Girl, those dishes ain’t gonna clean themselves.

And you looked out the window over the sink
At your brother playing rundown with his friends.
The water had gotten cold and
You reheat the dishwater absentmindedly.

Tucked in a canopy bed that you were supposed to love,
You heard them at the door.
A crash. Mama was gone.
But you would be fine.
She wasn’t around much anyway.

It was supposed to be the happiest day of your life.
Daddy reminded you how much he spent on
“Your Big Day”.

You thought he would change.
A stone that needed some polish:
With marriage. With children.
But those eggshells you trod upon with daddy
Were now broken glass from busted up
Family portraits and beer bottles.
Excuses. Makeup. Then the roses.

But a spark, no more dazzling
Than a Bic out of lighter fluid,
The tiniest spark from mama flickered in your soul.
And by the grace of God caught fire,
Burning through ****** memories as kindling.
Good bye to everything that you knew.

The facade you put on, fooled your new world,
And it took hours of 3AM talks
For you to trust me and let me see
The fighter inside.

How I am in awe of you as we compare pasts
And I am humbled and
Ashamed of the **** I call problems.

All I can do is love you the way
You should have been loved all along.
But you really don’t actually need me,
Do you? You are seeing that now.
But you want me anyway.
And we will walk side by side,
Neither of us more broken than the other.

Sep 2020 · 61

Spare time

Rachael Keeney Sep 2020

Spare time

What do I do
In my spare time?
A simple enough question,
Words to find common ground
Between two people
New to each other.

My shift screws me up,
So I am up too early.
I make French toast
And drink a beer,
Because I can.

I take a little nap--
Well, two hours laying there awake,
Pondering.
I will forage for more food,
And discover leftover mac and cheese.
I will eat it cold.

It's 11AM and I
Order a pizza because
They will deliver diet coke,
And I want Diet coke.

This is my only day off
And mindlessly scrolling Facebook
Isn't exactly relishing the day.
I feel guilty because
I don't have an answer to her
Simple question.

I eat the pizza and
Save the diet coke for tonight,
Then go back to bed--
Oh my God I am stuffed--
Until the waves of fullness leave.

It's 3:00.
And I have squandered the morning
Of my only day off.
Back to Facebook.
Maybe play some tunes on YouTube,
Worrying about the next song
I will play as opposed to
Taking in the song that is on now.
I play the same group of songs
Over and over and over,
Day by day.

I still haven't answered your question:
What do I do in my spare time?
Well this is embarrassing.

I want to say, I walked that trail
I discovered during my last picnic.
The trail that leads to a rock
I would have ascended
25 years ago,
On top, glowing in the sun beams,
Feeling like a goddess.
But that wouldn't be an authentic answer,
Would it?

I call my son, my daughter, my best friend,
My Dad is the only one to pick up,
And he is on the golf course.
And I wish I had something--
Golf, backpack, paint.

Breath life in all it's beauty,
Wonder what it is to be truly alive
In my own skin.
I write about my self-imposed loneliness
In my journal.
It's 5:00.

After all that pizza,
I would throw up dinner.
A shower?
It might help.

I efficiently lather up to save water, but
I rinse longer than usual,
Just stand there letting the cool water
Rinse off self pity.
Still,
What do I do in my spare time?

Deliberately, I put on clean clothes.
I had planned on the sweaty ones from yesterday.
Less laundry.
It is already 7:00, but
At least I am clean,
And I look presentable.

I pour myself a glass of Diet Coke
In a new mug--
Celebratory that even in my funk,
I look pretty good now.

I put on my old watch,
Only to discover the band if falling apart.
I feel like going to Walmart for a watch,
And do something today!
I can now answer her question,
"what do you like to do
In your spare time?"

Shopping.
I love shopping.

Sep 2020 · 72

Old Fashioned

Rachael Keeney Sep 2020

Old Fashioned

Is poetry even necessary
When it's essence is captured
In a reflective meme
Embedded in a lovely landscape
Or some such visual?

Ideas in an instant.
Deep thoughts in seconds.

Am I, a wannabe poet, obsolete,
Sitting at my desk
Pouring over a page
Desiring to share a journey to my notions
Via the written word?

Is it worth the philosophical pilgrimage
Roaming through qualifiers
And climbing over attributes
To get a glimpse of the profound,
When a simple Google search can score me
That view in a wink?

To me, my friend, the literary trek
Is worth the time expended.
The sweat and required pauses
Make that final view all the more
Delightful.

Sep 2020 · 69

For Jess

Rachael Keeney Sep 2020

For Jess

Anticipation from the time I knew you.
Adoration from the time I held you.
I pledge fierce love, forever love,
I will fight for you love.

Before you, I thought I was fulfilled.
A soaring eagle, I believed in myself,
So confident, so sure of my abilities.

Now with you in my arms, I realize
I had an empty place in my heart,
That God created just for you.

A place that is now
Overflowing with emotion.
Insecurity, because
I want to make your life perfect.
Charity, because
No one has ever needed me like you do.

Feelings so intense, I weep.
Tears of joy. Tears of exhaustion.
A release of the emotions that
Overwhelm me.

But then I notice your eyes
Fixed on me with
A quiet grace-filled spirit.
Eyes that engage my heart
Pull me even closer.

You love me too! Amazing!
A gaze that reassures
Despite my imperfections,
Love makes me enough.

Your blissful look and outstretched arms
That demand to be held
And your little smile that
Ignites wonder in my soul.

You are the engine driving
Our sacred bond,
And my mundane tasks
A supporting role.

My passionate love met
With your gentle grace,
Yield a binding love.
Oh my child, I am yours.

For Jess- my granddaughters' mom

Sep 2020 · 71

Lifeguard

Rachael Keeney Sep 2020

Lifeguard

In my crazy days, you rescued me
From the raging river, deep and wild.
As you held me afloat, I peered at
The strength of features in your face
Until I knew them all by heart.
Even now, I recall the exact
Pressure of your arms around my waist,
Keeping me safe from the demons that
Were lurking beneath the surface.

But then I learned to swim.

Sitting riverside next to you,
I do not feel adoration;
Nor do you sicken me.
Rather, I am grateful to a man
Who was kind and helped a lost soul.
As those same waters lap gently
To meet the shore, I pause and wonder,
What do we do now?

Sep 2020 · 79

Day sky, Night sky

Rachael Keeney Sep 2020

Day sky, Night sky

Would I rather close my eyes to the hot kisses of the sun on my skin,
Shining so brightly, my eyes cannot endure her loveliness?

Or would I rather gaze upon a midnight moon,
A common thing of beauty to visually behold,
But leaving me cold as always,
As I hug myself to warm my arms in the night?

A mediocrity, he controls where I place my beach chair.
For her, the planets align, and
Too much time in her presence yields
Searing heat, but hours with him
Do nothing for me.

Even behind the veil of cloud tearing and muddying the earth,
I know she is with me. She lights my days,
And I cannot live without her.

— The End —