Tag: Poetry
Me Time
Susan is scrolling
Sitting in her SUV
Exhaust plumes behind
Straw on lips, iced latte sips
Johnny’s at his hobby now
Double tapped heart
Conceals the smiling faces
Friends she once loved
Seem so happy and fulfilled
“When is the last time we spoke?”
Notification
Someone else likes what you shared
Yes, Validation
Attention or affection?
Desperate cravings, fill the void
Meticulously
scheduled, she does it all
She’s had it all
Hard work, dusty résumé
Two point five kids and a dog
Mansion, two million
Recently renovated
Kept clean by Maria
Quiet, paid: she’s just like fam’ly
All these years, hardly know her
Rear view mirror shows
Daughter, a spitting image
Mimicking mommy
Phone in hand, shoulders hunched
Consuming and coveting
Advertiser’s dream
Bottomless pit of desires
Disposable cash
Targeted ads know them well
Can’t resist another good deal
Johnny’s almost done
He’s gotten entitled, rude
That’s normal, though. Right?
Shuts himself up in his room
What is he doing in there?
The sweet boy he was
Now a distant memory
X-box Live mean kid
Expletives and racial slurs
His hugs were so warm
Where’s Susan’s mister?
At the office late again
Let’s pick up dinner
Plastic containers for all
It’s so easy, we’re busy
Busy, so busy
Unpaid labor, kid taxi
We need volunteers
PTA, Church, Baseball snacks
Room mom, binge watch a rom-com
Doesn’t want to think
About the obligations
This is her me time
Turn it all off for a while
Scrolling, searching. What’s missing?

Cleansing Ritual
Suspended in fluid
amniotic wetness
this oversized 80’s bathtub
a just-right womb
nose above water
breath gently rippling
window light reflection
twenty-four bubbles
no larger than a dime
unperturbed since creation
poured
in
this
vessel
retrograde flowing
lesions growing
this disease
this dis-ease
now
this is ease
in this cocoon
the fire burns
life resurrects
indulgent ingredients
velvet + silk mouthfuls
slowly seep in
gently closed lips
release dis-ease
relinquish ease
this oversized 80’s bathtub
fits far more than me
little ol’ me
gallons used
Savored.
every
drop

Poem: As Seen on TV
I was dismayed to learn of Bob Saget’s passing. I grew up fatherless and his role as Danny Tanner on Full House was important: it showed single parenthood as “normal” and nothing to be ashamed of. For thirty minute segments, he stepped in as a positive father figure where I had none. This feeling was so engrained in me that the first time my husband sat down with our oldest son when he was upset to have a heart-to-heart my first thought was, “Huh, like Danny Tanner,” and my second was, “Oh, like a dad.”
In November 2019, I was processing my childhood traumas and the complicated relationship I have with my parents when I wrote a poem that referenced this. I figured now is as good of a time as ever to share it with others.
Continue reading “Poem: As Seen on TV”The Epilogue
I am a storyteller,
through and through
A childhood defined by
Long afternoons spent around
a kitchen table
Listening
Learning
A bellowing laugh
Between sips of sweet tea
Faded fast-food mugs
In topographical hands
Mountains, valleys, creases
a story of their own.
Age and wisdom
To have both
A story in itself
Receiving
My own stories
Before I could
Decode
Lines and curves
Connected on a page
Before I could connect
A written story to my own
Once upon a time
A parental loss
A sick child
Left to fend,
to fight battles
Illness and Ill will
A tale of
defiance and defeat
A tale of force
Into my story
Into my body
An ink spill
Permeating the pages
A did
cannot be undone
A mystery
of madness, mania
A page turner,
the answer
Escaping on the breeze
of your exhale
An epoch of war
disguised as romance
An era of fear
disguised as family
An age of harm
disguised as home
The reveal
The rise
The run for your life
The strengthening
The escape
The heartache of another
More painful than my own
History repeats itself
Every fairy tale
Begins with tragedy
The hero’s journey
Metamorphosed
Metaphorical
mountains to climb
Led to literal
Landscapes of grandeur
The epilogue is
written
spoken
painted
in technicolor
shades of a
post-storm sunrise
Illuminating a new day
Houston, EX
Late last night, I got back from a nine day visit to my hometown, Houston and birthplace Corpus Christi, Texas. Last time I visited was during the 2017 Houston Half Marathon, and so much has happened within me since. Because this was the first time visiting since I’ve felt settled here in Connecticut, I was able to feel all of the tough feelings associated with it.
I wrote this poem (my first since high school, maybe?) throughout the trip and wrapped it up before takeoff. Enjoy.
Houston, EX
I flew back
into your arms
ten-lane highways
open and wide
Then was grasped
bumper-to-bumper tight
Welcomed.