taming of a tinker
called Sly: a play

what can I say
you want closure
sorry honey
is just a noise
blends in the drum
turns empty
dazzling nights
a shade of arsenic
there, happy
and the worst part
is knowing it'll
be there tomorrow
less severe
more palatable
covered in cosmetics
can't you see, this
all of it, is not me


   
— for a Very public lady and an open heart —


Dax, as much as I appreciate your commnets, especially the last line, I honestly have no idea what you're talking about.

c

Art by MisterCalm

keeping this temporarily.
right now it has an emotional connection



Mom, the way she died
that I was right there
that it feels like my fault
the way I cry when I talk about her

Her neck, and the way it was slit
that blood seeped out
that she moaned
the way she hurt and I was helpless

Her leg, the way she lifted it
that it would help with her pain
that her eyes wouldn't open
the way I told her, I'm sorry, Mama

This page, I can't see
that other things will have to wait

---

I'm not finding the same resource here to post a pic as I did with my mom's pic.

Times change

Everyday it's a war
Will I do enough
not to piss someone off
or worry somebody?

And why would I want
the alternative?
The answer to that
is sad, really sad

On my way back to bed
I wonder if I'll fall asleep
this time



Spectacle

Thirteen
and six feet tall
His line drive
hits me in the chin

Now
I'm a bearded lady
at the circus



Year of the Potato

Today
I'll bake eight Idaho potatoes
and make a salad
from one head of lettuce
two tomatoes
and a basket of mushrooms

Time was
only one potato per person
But this family eats well

Question is
can I afford
to make everyone happy?




When she hits
the wet ground
for the fourth time
Harry intervenes
hugs the attacker
partly for protection
partly out of affection

Thrown in
with the camp's unruly
Harry doesn't fit in well

His answer to pray
continues:
a shower of free will
and the power
to alienate everyone
and everything
he cares about

Upon being inspired

There, right there
that spot
is where we are

In the morning
we'll find a stream
of water crisp and cool

We'll count colored rocks
and watch them pop
across the surface

In the evening
when the sky is purple
and the aqua air is moist
we'll follow it home

-"Upon Being Inspired" has a loveliness, Cheyl.
-I think "Spectacle" is great!
-in "When She Hits" I'd like to know a bit more.
-Tom

Hey Tom.  Thanks for reading.  When she hits was inspired by an interesting article in an even more interesting newspaper written by and sold by homeless or former homeless people here in Tennessee.  Knowing my interest in and compassion for the homeless and needy, my son-in-law brought one home for me and I've been hooked ever since.  The homeless sell the newspaper for a dollar.  They get to keep 75 cents and the paper gets 25.  Isn't that an awesome way to help someone?  Many who sell the paper eventually become 'former homeless' persons.  The paper has poetry, songs, and articles.  Some of what's written is very good.

Cheryl

 

Sounds cool, Cheryl.
Submissions guidelines: http://www.thecontributor.org/Writing_and_Submission_Guidelines.pdf.
There used to be a paper like this around here, but haven't seen it in a long time now.
You're in Tennessee? Tom

Yes, TN now.  My daughter lives here.  I didn't fare well being without family near since my mother died.  And the Contributor is what I was referring to.  Fantastic idea.  Would be awesome if it was done everywhere for the homeless, or something like it.  It gives them the opportunity to work for a living.

Cheryl

In better days
we drank pots of coffee together
chattered like magpies
and told stories of our week
in intricate detail
We loved ourselves

In better days
we made love on blankets in
front of the fire
and had orgasms
when the wood burst

In better days
we argued over whether to
put a ping pong table or
a sound system
in the basement

Our lives revolved
around baseballs and softballs
and discussions of whether
the coach really knew
how to position our kids

Now days, maybe
better in a different way
hubby is married to
a stripper from Las Vegas
amid implants and botox
and I dance to Wii with
our grandaughter

Moving poem, Cheryl. The "in better days" refrain, the "We loved ourselves" and the "now days" last S pose delightful challenges to our values.
The "orgasms/wood burst" is a great image, and "how to position our kids" great language. Tom

Thank you, Tom.  Changed a couple of things.

Cheryl

dear Cheryl

here is the homeless newspaper in Rhode Island

http://www.streetsights.org/

i've been honored to be on the jury the last two years for their national poetry contest.


lots of beautiful people out there with honesty to share.

a warm smile
silent lotus

Hi Silent, thanks so much for posting this.  Sorry it took me so long to reply.  Still waiting for a good, quiet time to check out the link.  Awesome that you're on the contest jury, and even more awesome that you're honored.

Seems to me it's a shame than human nature has the need to be homeless or near homeless to prompt honesty.

Thanks again,
Cheryl