Poetry
My poetry is posted primarily to my Facebook page.
Why? This seems like about the best use I can think of for social media.
Sometimes it's hard to post a poem to Facebook. I feel vulnerable, scared, silly or dumb, or other self-doubting thoughts come up.
But then I tell myself, "Who cares?" and remind myself what my partner always says: "You wouldn't worry so much about what people thought about you if you realize how seldom they do." Then I can take myself a little less seriously - or a lot - and post away!
Below is a selection of poems. Friend me on Facebook to read more!
Why? This seems like about the best use I can think of for social media.
Sometimes it's hard to post a poem to Facebook. I feel vulnerable, scared, silly or dumb, or other self-doubting thoughts come up.
But then I tell myself, "Who cares?" and remind myself what my partner always says: "You wouldn't worry so much about what people thought about you if you realize how seldom they do." Then I can take myself a little less seriously - or a lot - and post away!
Below is a selection of poems. Friend me on Facebook to read more!
a poem |
another poem |
Something strange happened to me
And I’m so glad it did It saved my life you see And the life of my dear kid I’ll tell you want it is If you do not mind With this little poem That tries but fails to rhyme We climbed atop a mount The greatest slab of granite In The western hemisphere Fred Becky says We topped yes we did And looked straight down The other side A sheer slide Of five thousand feet. Then on the way back down A lightning storm came in If you have ever seen The sky go all around With lightning everywhere Then you know what I mean It’s called sheet lightning And granite comes to be A perfect conduit My daughter only eleven And I were perched upon The ridge line just above A field of snow so steep Men die on it regularly When out of control they go And splat are spit upon a rock A Boulder really. We felt it we two The lightning go through and through Our bodies just there A perfect place for striking I didn't know what to do Fear had me in its grip And I can only see from just one eye So lack of depth perception Made the field of ice Wild scary My husband of the time Laughed at my scared mind And dismissed what i had felt The lightning in my pelt When all at once I heard the clatter Of mama goat by me She looked me in the eye And she, I understood I grabbed my daughter’s hand She led me down That mama goat Two thousand feet and into The Safety of tree line Now forever I will be Grateful to that goat And never will forget How very close we came To death like others do On that mountain so grand Mount Stewart let it be. |
A whole new industry sprang up
With the pandemic, listen up It’s call telephonic ventriloquist productions Here are the instructions, You call on your phone Listen a bit to the drone The music it hums Until the time comes A few buttons with which You choose whom you wish A goat, a cat Your mother or a gnat Then wait a while While the line compiles A click and a whirr It will seem like a blur And suddenly Words flow out abundantly The ventriloquist takes the lead He lays out a thread For your personal production Explaining end to introduction When interrupted is he By your mother’s plea Oh my god When will you get a job? Soon after that You cat talks back Mad at all the meals Fish, duck and veals Not properly presented Or timely extended. The ventriloquist tries To get a word in edgewise But the goat steps in To sing a hymn And now you're all on your knees. Begging god god please This message amiss Why am I paying for this But before you press the red button The gnat starts a song of mutton The goat rebels with words of abuse And All hell breaks loose Your mother, she shrieks The cat contributes her piece And the ventriloquist Cries out I am no soliloquist These thoughts are yours Keep them in your corps Stop projecting on me What you want others to see, Go to a therapist Who in your madness is specialist For to me you're a bummer So never again call this number. |
another poemMy mother turned into a which
Self proclaimed In 1966 She held her hand up high And for once Divorced from me Her spoilt prodigy I Also turned into a which Self proclaimed When I got a cat My familiar A black cat I named after me The stew my mother witch brew Was bitter nourishing Inedible whole wheat spaghetti I could not eat She laughing Saying It's good for you And eating a whole Sara Lee Cheesecake While I slept. Sometimes she flew On her broom Dusting up a storm Upending the dishes Leaving scatters of glass And porcelain So you had to hid in your room To not cut into your feet Because you were not allowed To wear your shoes in the house And waited Until she put her broom down. I’m stewing up a brew Been working on it for some time now Unleashing poems And books and webpages Seeing how they fly Without me I’m waiting And watching Because I know There will never be a full moment To let it all unleash Instead all these little moments When magic can become In a kind exchange Or the uncovering Of a truth Inside myself. But maybe I’m too harsh The burden my mother bore Cut much deeper Than any she lent me, Her mother left her Before born was she To a vastness Unloving world And she My mother Didn;t really survive. I wish that I could hold That baby that was she And help for her to find The love she deserved to b But how ever I tried It always she denied And so I’m left With just one path To love myself As i would wish All babes in life could be This is the magic That’s in me. |
and yet anotherI have two cats
I want to tell everyone Two cats I have two cats Twooooo cats Their names are Beau And lola And I’m in love with the Little black one Her brother too I want to take a zillion videos And put them on youtube So you can see my two cats And I can see them when I’m gone I have two cats Twoooooo cats Their tails bush up When they are scared And they’re always wanting more Two cats Three litter boxes Four food bowls Five cat trees They are wild things Born in a barn of a feral mom And sometimes they hunt me down Bite my cheek and complain in my ear Get up get up get up already It’s past time for me to eat I’m trying to sleep I tell them Sleep away the morning Sleep into the day Get caught up on sleep and then some Get up they say And bit my hair for play I have two cats I tell the trees Two cats that like to play That’s okay they say Just be sure to keep them away Our birds are like your cats We love them so Even though they wake us too early in the day. Okay I say I’ll keep my cats All to myself Twooooooooo cats |