Padiddle poems on Hello Poetry

Laura Lee Burkhardt Jun 2010

Padiddle

Had I known
When you called
We would play
I would not have
Spent the time
Figuring what
To say
Or wear

Amber Melissa Turkin Dec 2014

I spent six years playing padiddle
with the shine in your eye
each time you winked.

Now I am falling asleep
beneath a blanket of sweat
imagining how few seasons are left
before the honeybee
is only able to live in captivity.

I would never touch you with angry hands.
Apparently I could never touch you
with the right words either.

“It is hard to hate a broken thing.”
Even harder sometimes
to accept some things
are broken.

Difficult Indifference is an apprentice poem that I wrote after reading Lisa Ferguson’s poetry collection, It’s Hard to Hate A Broken Thing. Ferguson’s poetry alluded to all different kinds of relationships and inspired me to think about some of the damaged relationships in my own life. As much as I keep trying to save my bestfriend from her marriage, I realize that maybe she isn’t ready to let it go, even if her marriage is abusive and detrimental to our friendship as well as her wellbeing. My friend refuses to recognize that her romantic relationship is broken; it has taken me awhile to realize that our friendship is broken in a lot of places, too. The honeybee reference brings the poem back to nature, keeping it simple. People farm bees, and sometimes seem to take the honey that they produce for granted – much like how my friend takes the support I constantly try to offer her for granted.

Sarah Wilson Sep 2010

you were the current in my veins.

i've got this sick neccesity to know where you are, what you're doing.
i've got all this hate and all this grief that says i don't care, i don't.
i've got this craving for your mocking laughter, your sarcastic smile.
i've got all these feelings and nowhere to put them.
i've got all these tears and no reason to cry them.

because can you really grieve over something you never had?
and really, what if it was all a lie?
what if it was all a lie?
tell me how it was for you.
i promise not to cry.
i'm comfortable in my misery.

my glovebox is filled with so much music that isn't fit for listening.
my trunk is filled with so many clothes that don't fit me, anyway.
my heart is filled with so much of you there isn't room for anyone else.
my life is filled with so much that isn't you, i can't help but forget you.

but the sun goes down, and i remember doing nothing but driving.
i remember endless bickering and games of padiddle.
i remember singing, laughing when i told you i liked the way you sing.
i remember hugs, in the car at first. then outside my car.
and then i remember embraces i never wanted to end.
i remember, "see you later," and my whispered goodbye.

but i don't remember when all of it stopped.
you lied, last time.
i haven't seen you later.
and, as a whole?
i'm doing just fine.

but lately, my body just hasn't run the same. 9-13-2010.

Sarah Wilson Mar 2011

you are the reason for my obsession with obituaries.

i looked at that hole in the ground
and i thought of you.
i thought of the holes in your smile,
and the emptiness of your eyes.
i thought of late nights,
and never wanting to see the sun.
i thought of wandering hands,
and stolen naps.

i thought of feeling whole again,
and feeling loved as i loved.
i thought of waiting for you,
and how i will wait for you.
i thought of padiddle and popeye's,
and funny games and friends.
i thought of the beach at night in march,
and i thought of your porch in june.

i thought of how my heart would stop,
just watching you walk to me.
i thought of how i couldn't breathe,
just listening to you breathe beside me.

and now, three and a half months later,
i look at this empty space in my life.
i think of how easily you could fill it.
and i think of how easily i'd welcome you.

but i'm thinking, now, of you.
of how easily you walk away.
of how easily you break my heart,
steal my breath, cause my tears.
of how easily i blame myself,
when it's all your fault.

but you're leaving this summer,
and i don't care anymore.
i'll carry this broken heart.
i'll carry it until there's no hurt left.
but it won't be yours again.
have a brilliant ******* life.

tuesday, march 15, 2011.

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