The hand you are dealt

A good friend will cause you pain today. She
will not see why even if you try to
explain. You will think you are going mad.

You will wish to kill someone. Try not to.
Your other children will suffer enough
without you compounding things. Suck it up.

Try to avoid awards ceremonies.
Jealousy is ugly. Schadenfreude
is also to be frowned upon. Mostly.

Church will become the worst hour of your week.
You will spend the whole time praying no one
turns around. God will appear not to care.

There are no trophies for surviving.
You will not sleep well tonight, or ever.
You would not trade places with anyone.


(a fortune-cookie poem, originally written for a prompt from Robert Lee Brewer over at Poetic Asides)

England's great tradition of painting

They were an hour late,
three likely lads in white shirts
with five cans of paint,
three drop cloths, brushes, rollers,
and, of course, a tea kettle.

Don’t mind us, Missus,
the blue-eyed leader declared,
patting my mum’s arm.
We’ll make ourselves right at home.
You won’t even know we’re here.

I watched from a chair
as they brewed a pot of tea
and surveyed their task.
"Looks a bit dodgy, dunnit?"
one said, and they all nodded.

That decided it.
“Back in the morning, sunshine!”
the oldest one winked,
and quietly handed me
the cards from the tea packet.

Hope Barn

(a rhyme royal)

A hundred Chinese lanterns cross the sky

with whimsy as the sun melts in the west.

Here in the field, our hostess wipes an eye

then throws her arms around each welcome guest

to whisper secrets she has cherished lest

they disappear like mist.  She is alive

tonight, amazed to see such crowds arrive.

(for the beautiful Hope Barn, who holds her history with grace and dignity)

Nuns and bacon

I’ve got shaving cream stuck on my

earlobe and a strand of dental floss

clinging to my right shoe.  That faint

smell of bacon comes from my briefcase,

where I absent-mindedly stashed what

I was supposed to give the dog when the

phone rang with a reminder of the doctor’s

appointment which I seem to have

forgotten in my confusion following the

unfortunate incident with the street sweeper

and the crocodile formation of

pre-schoolers crossing the divided highway.

CD seven of my new box set from the

library was playing at the time, something

about accepting life as it comes, so I

didn’t lay on the horn and instead smiled

at the gigantic nun waving her hands in the

central reservation.  The word “wimple”

got stuck in my mind and I spent the rest of my

drive thinking about rhymes for it, of which

there are precious few, which may partly

explain the paucity of decent nun poetry,

and also attempting to undress her in my

imagination, only to be thwarted at every turn

by a gleaming steel under-habit with a

big sign saying “For God’s sake, keep out!”

Felt a little better by the time I got to work,

especially when the receptionist winked

at me, but then I couldn’t stop imagining her

as a nun.  Weird.  Maybe if I’d gone to

Catholic school this wouldn’t be a problem,

which actually might just be the best reason

I have heard so far for supporting school vouchers.

I wonder if Jesus was ever late for work,

probably not while carrying bacon, and if Mary

Magdalene ever let him look under her robe.


A bit of stream-of-consciousness insanity to share with friends at the fabulous dVerse Poets Pub.

To have and to hold

To have and to hold, from this day forward,
for better, for worse… Glowing words uttered
haltingly, like lines from a high school play,
learned by heart, yet still alien. Today
is a necessary burden, offered

to assuage the desires of well-mannered
society. A photo-op prepared
with eight-by-tens for all to take away
     to have and to hold

forever. But in truth, what just occurred
in this place, the flowers, lace, high-collared
dress, unity flame, champagne toast, DJ,
first dance, are but the entrance toll they pay
for life to which they have not yet matured,
     to have and to hold.

Senior day

Today was Senior Day in town.
Everywhere I went was awash
in blue rinse and that thin brown whiz
they offer up as free coffee.

At the Goodwill, the checkout girl
said without looking up, “Do you get a
discount?” Then flicked her weary lashes
towards me before saying, “I guess not.”

At the grocery, an elderly acquaintance
bellowed across three aisles that I was
looking far too thin. And the line was clogged
with hearing aids unable to read the self-serve screens.

Out in the parking lot, my way was blocked
by a perfectly-preserved 1980s Buick
straddling two spaces while its near-sighted
owner struggled with the gear shift.

Strangely reassuring, then, to arrive in the plumbing
aisle of the hardware store, and have a grey-haired
woman stop pushing a giant ladder just long enough
to yell, “There’s some young man here who needs help!”

Do not use this product

Do not use this product
if you have heart disease,
liver problems, high blood pressure,
persistent cough or chronic
breathing problems.

Also not a good idea if you
are pregnant or breast-feeding,
taking drugs for depression,
psychiatric or emotional conditions,
if you have Parkinson’s disease,
or if you just want your kids to go to sleep.

If you do decide to take this
product, do not drink alcohol,
drive, or operate heavy machinery.
Try to avoid people with whom
you may be tempted to get into a
fight, as you will be darn irritable.

Keep out of the reach of children,
both you and these pills. Do not
take more than directed. If you do,
contact the Poison Control Center
right away, at the number unfortunately
obscured by the price tag on the right.

Then again, if you have managed
to read this far, you’re probably
going to pull through.

Sharing the love

 

Sometimes, when two people love each other
they want to share that love with the whole world.
It’s quite natural. And so late at night,
or even at lunchtime, they go to work

(and don’t kid yourself, often it IS work,
especially if you are on the porch,
or the patio, or at a camp site,
places you have to be extra careful).

For some couples it is really easy,
others have trouble, some even give up.
There can be showing off and jealousy
which is really hurtful and doesn’t help.

But most of the time, the hard work pays off.
They come out to you, sweat-soaked and aching,
still sticky from all of their exertions,
to announce: It’s here! Mint-Chocolate-Chip!

The banality of evil

(Hannah Arendt has a quote about the banality of evil.  A piece under that title on NPR this week, by Dina Temple Raston and Robert Smith, described the final day of Mohammed Atta, before he hijacked one of the 9/11 planes – so ordinary, staying at a Comfort Inn, getting cash from a Wal Mart…)

  

The banality of evil

(An Octain Refrain)*

The banality of evil

Furrows the soul more than the flow

Of blood from monsters we don’t know.

It’s the neighbor who pays his bill

Washes his face, then takes his place

With those he is about to kill.

The things we share in common show

The banality of evil.



* credit to Luke Prater for this wonderful form

Never skip breakfast...

 (a villanelle)

How many animals are there
Teeming before my hungry eyes?
By this point, I don’t even care.

Just cause I’m single, it’s not fair
To choose me. Don’t you realize
How many animals are THERE?

All I’ve done, all day, is to stare,
Then name each beast. I can’t disguise
By this point I don’t care

If the names make sense. I might dare
To skip some! Tell me, O Most-Wise:
How many animals are there

That I can grill medium-rare?
Names can wait! Just serve ‘em with fries.
By this point I don’t even care.

There’s only so much I can bear
Before I start to fantasize.
How many animals are there?
By this point I don’t even care.


To share with friends over at the marvelous dVerse Poets Pub.