Monday, December 12, 2005

Well, duh

so i just figured out how to moderate and post comments. i haven't been ignoring any of you--i've just been technically inept.

here are the poems i am "publishing" this evening at our final writing class of the semester. I have been saying I will post them for a while, but haven't yet done so.

Saying More Things

Universal language has no point to me
I love the phonemes of other tongues
Dripping from my own
Like honey from the apple at the head of the Jewish New Year.

I don’t know what an inclinometer is.
Nor am I inclined to find out.

It’s of no use in my sedated world of freedom in the pen and paper
Free mind
Free bird

Celery is tasteless and bland
And has no place in the chocolate cake decadence of
Our inner circle
Our container
Our happy place.

Chocolate not at the center,
But on the periphery,
Beckoning me away from goals
Away from jeans
Away from program

But it tastes so damned good.

Brown sugar is in my freezer
But not here.

I pulled it out the other day
Like the silk beneath my toes on the beach I left behind
To add to a chicken marinade that wasn’t very good.

I’d let it broil a bit too long
Distracted by the phone
The kids
The chocolate in the fridge
The incessant hum of the washing machine as it spins the clothes into oblivion
And they emerge
Smelling sweet like yesterday’s rain
Ready to take on

The family
Spit up
And pieces.

The tongue can get in the way of my voice as I coax it from my throat,
Listening for openness
And complexity
But not wanting to think too hard.

“A Zen grocery list”
I once called my experience of prepping for a note
Taking mental stock
Without putting too much stock in the taking.

My tongue comes back to chocolate and rests
On all it has to offer.
response to poem “Saying Things” by Marilyn Krysl

Cold Morning

You called for ‘Daddy’ at 6 a.m., bleating, half-awake
I went instead, grudgingly hoisting myself
from the warm nest of blankets that kept me snug
I armed myself for a fight, ready with words like “it’s not time yet”
And “A few minutes more.”

Smoothing your icy sheets, I decided to stay awhile.

Curled up next to you
Beneath the blanket that quickly warmed the cold side of your tiny space,
Nose to nose, inches apart.
I listened to your deep easy breath,
Watched your unfurrowed brow,
Inhaled the sweet smell of air escaping your lips.

Your eyes flickered open a moment or two
Your fingertip reached out to touch my cheek, my nose
You fingered my pajamas
Just like your ‘stars blankie’
Wordlessly stroking, a feather’s touch

A moment frozen next to icy feet
Warm breath
Small fingers

I breathed it in
And stole away
Back to my own cold bed
Grown up sheets
Mammoth of responsibilities
Before it could end.


Thanksgiving poems to follow, when i fear not.

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