"trampolines" poems
island summer heat
big backyards
shared by three families
with rambunctious kids
sundresses, sandals, swim trunks
a big mango tree and
a merry-go-round with red chipped paint
geckos and mud baths
"boy's got cooties!"
mid-west plains' dry, summer heat
Mr. Sun is our lamp well past 9:00pm
Dow St., a giant hill covered
in uniform houses, filled with the uniformed sacrificial
spinning wheels, acre-wide hide and seek
nintendo and donkey kong, fireflies in jars
front yard mulberry trees
pippy longstocking "lets' go into this 'cave' of vines"
poison-ivy
southern peninsula, humid, summer heat
above ground pools and trampolines
a red brick house; the first home
the first CD collection, Filipino food
THE PARK,
the sandbox lid drowning in the bayou
sleeping in guest rooms, sleepovers a sign of status
pelicans, ducks, fishing,
sleeping in the boat; camping on the beach
Jul 2, 2012
Jul 2, 2012 at 4:18 PM UTC
Bouncing down the tall stairs
Hazel eyes and short blonde hair
Daughter, the first of two
She looked up to you
Mama’s girl was so small
Not like her dad at all
Daddy liked to fish, hunt and hike
Kayak, canoe and mountain bike
She liked all the little girl things
Barbies, crayons and trampolines
Today I sit in your old kayak and gear
And think about us as if you were still here
I wish we could do all these things together
Now we’re the same, but you never got better
In and out of hospitals all the time
Still we all thought that you would be just fine
No answers, no cure and little treatment
But you had hope in the discouragement
Time has passed and you’ve been missed greatly
I realize now just how much you gave me
Your stubbornness, determination and drive
Your deep love and passion of all things outside
Dad, so many things we could do
I want to be back there with you
On the water with that kayak
But nothing will bring those days back
So many things you’ll miss
Stories of my first kiss
Frightening my prom date
Seeing me graduate
Walking me down the aisle
Tearing up all the while
Dad, you are loved and you are missed.
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 4:28 PM UTC
I wished on a star too
Skipped rocks, flew off the inner tube
Played capture the flag, hide and go seek
Summer camp and climbing trees.
Passing notes, amusement parks, sports awards
Just Dance, sleepovers, boogie boards
Tire swings, smores, shirley temples,
Neighborhood friends, trampolines... few troubles.
A shooting star passed,
Silent tornadoes of memories
Come, lets ponder the time machine.
Just a kid, or maybe an adult- I'm 18.
Cherish past experiences, live for your dreams.
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 10:47 PM UTC
Daisies in hair, freckles in laugh,
Summer camp dandelions,
Bubbles in the air.
Cling like a koala to your back
So I can fight off the pirates
And the dinosaurs
And the giant squid
And my mother's meatloaf.
Where do teachers go at night?
Do they sleep in their classrooms?
This caterpillar is my new best friend.
But so is this firefly. But not that moth.
Roll down hill into mud puddles of chocolate goo.
Sing songs and jump on clouds like trampolines.
Mouth like an innocent firecracker; 3-2-1 blast off.
Kissed and tucked and loved into bed.
Dreaming of how good we're going to have it,
Not knowing that we already did.
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 5:25 PM UTC
If only I had a grandson like you
I'd have a more perky spirit
I'd go to football games
soccer games
and cheer you on like crazy!
If only I had a granddaughter like you
I'd have a more perky spirit
I'd go to the festivals
cheerleader tryouts
and root for my number one!
If only I had a grandson like you
I'd do things like ne'er before
I'd play some kickball
jump on trampolines
and scream out for pure joy!
You know something?
I do..
have you!!
And I wouldn't have it
any other way!
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 1:04 PM UTC
I try to avoid the invasion of screams that bounce
towards me from wall to wall like loud angry
ghosts jumping on trampolines with rusty springs.
A stolen fan hums by the door of my childhood room to
create an addictive mechanical barrier of sound that is
haunted with the impatient voices of a static future.
Quietly trapped in a dismal pile of broken wood where
brief escapes provide a hit of beautifully brutal knowledge.
Only to repeatedly return to this stagnant town.
Attempt to remain lost in the glow of this virtual reality.
Machines keep me connected at a distance so now I can
embrace the meaningless solitary moments with friends.
In this time of repair these lives have forever misfired as I
wait for that silence from hell that comes after the sun
evaporates the rivers dry. It's almost time to leave.
Jul 25, 2015
Jul 25, 2015 at 6:36 AM UTC
and so my life rushes by.
no more razor scooter afternoons,
Barbie jeep and a kickball marathon,
walking home from school in spring, swinging a Powerpuff Girls backpack.
jumping on hot black trampolines, burning our small feet,
running to the park to see if we were able to hold on to monkey bars.
no more alligator tag evenings, falling down in wood chips but brushing it off-
I have always been a tough cookie.
and I become an adult soon enough, a victim of my own past and a
culprit of my future, but nothing in between.
Honda Civic and a movie marathon,
liquored-up nights,
high as the midnight sky, staring up at stars as far as the atlantic.
Jul 17, 2011
Jul 17, 2011 at 4:40 PM UTC
a loop of spume immune to fumes of eastern tombs
a burnin'; a mad flash of candied wrath
and junebug randy newman;
what rumbles jest in vestments yet
to loom a knit or pearl two... a ****** crest
of ***** wrecks and rubber necks
to view you...
a nop of lopsy,
fever pitched in thicket rich begonia;
and roman roads
too golden
kicks
from hydro
in
your hedge
row.
a droop of noon in cool remove
from gypsum dim sum laude.
a drowning witch on boney creeks
of needles and salami.
untongued. a pool of fringe
rhymes with orange,
yes a door-hinge,
off it's moorings...
off it's Meds
death beds
for trampolines
in petrified forests...
a nop of lopsy, frogging Gatsby,
greatly famished to the Nines;
an olden toll of wish fits
then nothing
comes.
and that's
Life.
Oct 15, 2012
Oct 15, 2012 at 2:11 PM UTC
what we need is more banjo,
more djembe, more thunder finger
bass guitar --
what we need is less boredom --
less fear of failure,
less fear of *******
less Jane Austen.
what we need is the electric charge
of neurons fire dancing like
the night sky of the fourth of
july,
what we need is to learn the lesson
of rivers and runners -- keep up
the momentum
what we need is more honey,
watermelon,
sweet potatoes,
peanut butter,
and coconut oil.
more weirdos, more hippies,
more punks, more rappers,
more poets, if you have something
to say we pretty much need you.
we need more gin and less gender roles
more sin and less slapstick
more trees and trampolines and ties
between you and I.
we don't even need to be human
we just need to be sustainable.
Sep 24, 2015
Sep 24, 2015 at 8:10 PM UTC
Every door is open
To let in the sky
Every day a dream,
Please don’t hide.
Don’t waste away these sunny days
Like me, don’t squander your pretty ways
Little girl on my front porch swing
You always know what’s best to sing
Do as my grandmother says.
Don’t worry the humming bees
They float towards the blooming trees
Open your eyes to the world I see.
Green Easter grass between your toes
May rains upon your nose
Summer breeze through your hair
Beautiful, you make life seem fair
Summer songs and trampolines
Sweet smelling magnolia trees
Georgia fair and Georgia kind
I love the way you spend your time
Beethoven on the piano keys
Worn out antique car seats
Dads out back fixing the john deer
Were mowin’ early this year
Songs so sweet I whisper here
Looking over my front porch swing
Taking in this endless spring,
Open your eyes to the world I see.
Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 1:15 AM UTC
He walked in with a bounce in his step
Miniature trampolines strapped to his shoes
Unaware
Of the fact that
His presence hurt
Like an ant under a magnifying glass
On a really sunny summer day
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 11:19 AM UTC
You spoke to me with your
voice like Mia Farrow’s and
your eyes not at all like
trampolines. A tar twig
bobbed between your lips;
you spoke of self-destruction
and smoked your commas
and semi-colons. You asked me
questions with the least amount
of answers and the most amount
of space, like a widow’s home
adorned in compromise. The six
o’clock sun sprawled through.
You said I reminded you of how
we’re always treating people like
fractions, simplifying where we
should be unfurling equations.
I saw the dawn illuminate your
hiccups and your hesitations. I
took a kiss; I thought there’s
nothing more fleeting than
moments like this, but at least
you can’t run quickly with a
heart so full.
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 6:58 PM UTC
13 years ago
that Magnolia tree hovered over my yard.
it cast such a shadow
that everything underneath was always so cool.
the flowers were so beautiful;
the purest white to the palest pink.
when the sun was at a certain angle
the tree looked magical.
5 years ago the tree split in half.
back then
the grass was so much greener.
i don't mean the metaphor
the feeling of thin lucious grass running through my toes
always amazed me.
the grass is dead now.
we used to love the rain.
we would run up
and play in the middle of the street.
until the thunder cracked
and we'd race back home,
laughing the whole way.
I'm terrified of storms now.
you used to be able to hear kids playing.
you could drive through any neighborhood at any time of day during the spring and summer.
there would be kids outside.
playing baseball, rundown, release, soccer-
riding bikes, scooters, skateboards, go karts-
jumping on pogo sticks, trampolines, and over ropes.
even at night
we would go out
trying to catch lightening bugs.
we're inside on our phones now.
the trees going to school.
God were they something.
they lined the road,
every tree was the exact same
but something about there being so many in one place
could take your breath away.
2 years ago the road and trees were destroyed
I wish things never changed
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 12:46 AM UTC
I jumped on a trampoline with my sister for the first time today since I was a girl.
It was a strange feeling.
We were closer for an instant
like we were girls again
like each jump towards the sun lightened us
like gravity loosened up a bit
like he laughed
and oh we laughed and laughed and laughed and LAUGHED
the sun wasn't quite ready to set and the leaves were emerald like her birthstone and her hair was long again
and her heart soft and her smile not straight
her fiance looked like Tarzan, the young cartoon one.
i think i know that she's right to marry him
because he felt right on that trampoline
with us girls
like he belonged
like he was always a part of our childhood
i think that's how you know you've found "the one"
when even the memories they weren't apart of
feel like they were experienced together
when you can't remember what it was like without them
when memories of moments in their absence cease to exist
I have a hard time remembering my own childhood.
I wonder what that means...
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 10:04 PM UTC
We were always bored
Looking for a piece of the action on
Ash tray floors and bong-ridden windows
Ambitious, ambidextrous fools
Trying to reach the icy heights at flaming fifteen
As we got older
Now we're too busy to just sit
And stare at the wall
We should've just stared at the wall
While we could
But we were too busy climbing
Overcoming building blocks
Now that they're stepping stones
All the doors we really need are locked
We should've stayed grounded
In trampolines and pavement chalk
Biding our time in the
Occasional tightrope walk
But to have it all when you want it
Is such a drug
So we pushed each other off
Just to feel the flight of falling
We tried so hard to make the pieces fit
But one puzzle solved
Is just another with more anguish in it
Taking left-hand paths
Just to prove ourselves right
Filling unknown vacancies
We were explorers in the night
As we got older
Now we're to busy to just
Wander in the woods
We should've just stayed in the woods
While we could
But the page has turned
The properties of sin have left us
Stranded in empty lots
Drawing straws for who and who is not
Passing notes and paper planes
We should've been holding hands
Connecting dots, embracing pain
We could've formed a circle band
Kings and queens and peasants
We were them all
But the trinity was dissolved
By geometry's laws
We tried so hard to make the language fit
But one riddle solved
Is just another with more questions in it
When genuine thoughts begin
To get abbreviated
You better pray you're not
The one who's deviated
Cause as we get older
We become too busy to
Recognize the truth
We should have recognized the truth
But it's no use
I don't know what happened to us
But I thought the underdog
Always got the glory later
So I saved my moments in a box
But the contest for youth fame
Is masked by drama's feeble gain
Cause what transpires long after
Is a race for cheap laughter
Better cross your fingers
And stand out as a loser
Lest you become a cabaret
The second you begin to change
I tried so hard to make myself fit in
But one problem solved
Is just another nihilistic moment
Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 10:36 PM UTC
Rubber ***** fired,
like grapeshot from cannons,
through a hall of xylophones and
trampolines.
Lemming pianos,
evacuated en masse down
a spiral staircase, piling,
a heap of discordant corpses,
at the foot of the last stair.
The screaming of a star
smeared across space and pasted,
like paint, onto
the smirking invisible face
behind a singularity.
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 5:09 AM UTC
frozen coke
family matters
sack swing
hugs
at 822 Pine Avenue
late nights
pillow forts
peach cobbler dessert
at 822 Pine Avenue
headstands and trampolines
laughs
a front porch swing
at 822 Pine Avenue
wives tales & mud pies
at 822 Pine Avenue
pecan tree
bench beneath
singing in her sleep
at 822 Pine Avenue
bird fountain and basketball net
a ball needing air
popsicle stains on shirts
at 822 Pine Avenue
mining for rocks down the alley
papa's roof was *****
at 822 Pine Avenue
birthday parties
coconut pies
drawing pictures in the front room
at 822 Pine Avenue
Geraldine stories
flash light animals
sleepovers with the twin beds pushed together
at 822 Pine Avenue
talking in her sleep
frying me bacon to eat
Sunday afternoon lunches
At 822 Pine Avenue
1 husband
3 kids
7 grandchildren
13 great grandchildren
at 822 Pine Avenue
Jun 18, 2017
Jun 18, 2017 at 11:32 PM UTC
You describe the tree tops as majestic,
and cats, and trampolines, and pancakes with no egg,
not even milk, not even a drop of milk.
Your postcards wont be able to find me,
so don't bother wasting your stamps,
use them for something important,
like potatoes, or some fake eye lashes.
Side-hugs are awkward,
so are nervous people,
and I get especially nervous
when you ask my friends to lick your toes.
My tongue is rough,
like a cats tongue,
and no one wants to kiss a cat,
because a cat hides behind the cracks.
Inside the cracks noise makes,
and in the color of your eyes.
I write out my secrets,
bold, and italic
Hoping someone will realize that I'm lying,
or that I wish I was lying.
That everything I say is a joke,
or that every sincere piece of literature is burning
in the flames that are your eyes,
and it's going to leave scars deeper than you could imagine.
My nails are getting long,
but my clippers are still stuck in that mans left eye,
(not that it matters, he deserved what he got).
I've thought about imprisonment,
and it didn't take me too long to realize that I'm living it,
or that I can see it in my best friends laugh lines,
or in the corners of her brothers eyes.
A whale once told me about her experience:
"All the corners meet brick by brick
I'm stuck in a cell and I'm getting sick
the food is gross
I want to listen to Sigur Ros
BUT I CAN'T
because I did a bad thing"
I guess I don't have any room to complain about love,
or friendship, or **** or torture, or birth,
no matter how traumatic people say it is.
I'll always be stuck in my head,
and to me,
that's worse than anything.
Sep 13, 2010
Sep 13, 2010 at 8:01 PM UTC
yellow and blue,
yellow and blue,
isn't it nice
when I think about you?
summer crickets
and somersaults,
can I really claim
that this wasn't my fault?
sprinkles of freckles
and sparkling green eyes,
were all of our days
just drawn out goodbyes?
daisy doodles
and bright white smiles
crashing my car
and sprinting for miles
sunshine lemons
and trampolines,
come to think of it,
we were so ******* mean
yellow and blue,
yellow and blue,
when the river's run dry...
what do I do?
Jan 15, 2013
Jan 15, 2013 at 2:03 AM UTC
my black arms
black enough to be infinite
all colors combined to create blackness
the darkest of all things
these black coils that sprout out
sprout slowly
sprout curly
sprout insecurely
bouncy like the wires that we find under trampolines
bouncy bouncy bouncing
on these springs that sprout of my head
she pulled one and watched it spring back to its original position
lips brighter than roses
pink with the kiss of illumination
radiating with fullness as they sit on the blackness that is my face
"está es tu replica"
my twin whose skin is the blackest
her hair made of wires
lips pink as carnations
her dress the color of the sky
I find irony that her dress is day and she is night
A figurine that is my twin
A reminder this is what she knew me as before she knew me
This is who I'll be after she's known me
I am black the infinite night sky that is infinite enough to intrude on day
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 3:49 PM UTC
Whats the difference?
Besides an extreme pleasure coming from below...
There's squeaky springs, And some like it.
Two or more people are involved (The more, the merrier)!
At least mostof the time. I guess you could be alone...
There is a lot of sweat and going up and down...
Up... and down...
Up... and down
Forcefully...
Heh, you're imagining now aren't you!?
If you are, then this worked, but I'm not done...
The screams and tricks you can do.
So many fun tricks!
Ones that make you feel like you're flying
Or maybe make you bump your head and begin to moan.
And then your stomach drops and you feel the rush.
The high point.
A certain ****** if you will.
So really, what is the difference between *** and trampolines?
Other than an ****** of course...
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 10:11 PM UTC
Why Life Is Worth Living
March 29, 2012
easter egg hunting looking up and seeing the sky
opening your eyes underwater burning candles
drinking water when you’re thirsty watching the snow fall
seeing fireworks explode laying in bed
dipping your toes into a river intertwining your fingers with another’s
feeling the sun on your skin painting what you imagine
singing along to songs having bonfires sitting by a fireplace
riding horses in the fall chocolate milk
watching lightning split the sky the way you feel after workouts
fishing on a calm day knowing you are worth something
swimming in the summer watching the sun rise
backrubs that ‘new baby smell’ smiling
proving to others that you can do anything having family dinners
falling hopelessly in love skipping rocks
helping others who need you laying with the one you love
writing because you want to sipping hot cocoa in the winter
feeling strong capturing time through photographs
holding a new baby breathing after it rains trampolines
playing sports expressing yourself building things
listening to the ‘peepers’ chirp learning every day
creating new life making dinner for fun planting a garden
seeing old friends staying up late reading feeling accomplished
suddenly understanding a math problem experimenting
falling asleep without any time between when you climb in and sleeping
seeing your family picking daisies
getting sand between your toes devoting yourself to something you <3
saving lives hearing the melody of a piano
sharpening a pencil because you’ve worn it down creating something beautiful
realizing life is better than in the movies running
making shapes with sparklers curling up in a blanket
movie nights cutting the grass observing the stars
thanksgiving dinners ice cream on a hot summer day popsicles
Jun 4, 2012
Jun 4, 2012 at 1:41 PM UTC
Hundreds of pieces
Line gallery walls
I put them together in
Fractal patterns
They make pictures under my
Lizard brain lens, refracted in
Shards of color
That contour honeyed visions
I remember, no I
Won't forget
Golden glows of firelight in
Family rooms on soft lined sofas
Or sideline kisses by
Charcoal cooked nighttime
And trampolines that
Soften our fall
Into autumn
Well I was certain that I
Couldn't jump
(Though I asked how high)
But with your arms beneath her
Your baby girl can be your
Little bird.
Dec 8, 2012
Dec 8, 2012 at 3:30 PM UTC
the world never fell out from under you, no
you constructed safety nets like trampolines because you were always paranoid about the end of the world and since i was your world you wondered about the end of me
but i don't think you thought very hard about the end of you
the one that got tangled in dreams bigger than yourself; the ones that validated you and made you feel you had something worth struggling for, a rope on your back to secure your insecurities as you scaled the molehills you made out of mountains
did you ever think about the girl who had nothing to prove
the girl who showed you everything and for some reason that made you the bigger person
it's just that-
i was peanut butter and you were two years old
i guess your mom never told you how to grow up and decide if you had phobias or allergies
because i wouldn't have minded the way the hives erupted across your face like volcanoes without a cause
i would've rubbed your back with chamomile lotion and tried to read your sores like braille--
but i was peanut butter
and you were two years old
and i guess your mom never told you how to grow up and decide if you had a peanut allergy or commitment issues
(perhaps you had both)
perhaps you were so scared of the reaction you would have to someone who would lace your veins with her own blood if you needed, someone who was so willing to hand over her perplexities and let you examine them like a rubik's cube- is that what i was
because i always made it perfectly clear that i loved you
because i don't like seeing you sore and angry like that
i hate the way i hear your bones sigh when you move
the sticks and stones were never really a problem for you
but i think the burdens of my words broke you a little
the words that always made it perfectly clear that i loved you and
i guess you would always ask why but i always thought that some questions don't need an answer
and the only thing i could think of was that if people really are dust like the Bible says, then i was a molehill and you were a mountain
Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 1:56 AM UTC