Tag Archives: Cry
Wherever is my friendYes Goddesses
With prophetic vision
All the women
In the family
Mothers and daughters
Cousins and nieces
With pets present
Met in unison
Tethered their souls
Gathered their wisdom
Shared bad meals
Cried then laughed
Rolled up sleeves
Studied the data
Examined their hearts
Consulted with God
Exhaled a “Yes”
Cleaned the mess
Moved some mountains
Saved the world
Then slept soundly
Concrete
Would it be weak
Were I to cry for the collective
The selves I’ve been
The chance, gone, to them each?
These wheels face West
The light-lit way, daily apparent
Yet my feet are only able to stay
Stumbling in concrete
In Wait: A Haiku
The lull of my breath
My sometimes staccato-cry
Devilish details
Arrested Decay
This pre-war, post-war frame
Quaint summer garden
Exposed brick and beam
Uneven maple plank throughout
All hard as nails, I promise
Will never cry so hard as I
On this kitchen floor
Shoulder
It’s just my shoulder
There’s nothing inherently beautiful or strong, tempting or freeing
Cool or calm about it, is there?
It’s just an offer
There’re billions of others to stand square with, befriend or lean on
Swoon over or serve with, aren’t there?
Lincoln Green
Why if we scream
Are we questioned
Our sanity
Our faithfulness
Our allegiance with true patriots
What of war cries
Of the war crimes
Our eyes opened
Our sleeves rolled-up
Our feet planted where lies cannot stand
When Good returns
To the Empire
Who’ll be kneeling
Who’ll be weeping
Who’ll be seeing that they have no clothes
The Dark Side
I cried, how dare I!
I cried over cat food today
How it covered
Her nose and eyelashes
My hands and my vision
How it lingered
The way snowflakes might stay
Were we not dark princesses
Standing at the sink twice today
Cleaning her face and my heart
Hoping that tears and time
Will somehow free us
From the stench
From the mess and disaster
Of our love
Where
I always made her wait
’til Thursday
To cry
“That’ll teach you,” I commanded,
“to feel, to wish and need.”
Someone, but not I
Might’ve offered mercy
But why
“The more tears, the more mess,” I understood.
“And further,” I’d chide, “you cannot permit pieces of who you are to escape and run free -there’s no one who’ll care to clean up after you.”
Then she’d quiet down and stop expecting
She’d fall asleep, and dreamless be
She’d go. Goodbye.
“If I could be bothered to wonder,” I thought aloud,
“I’d ask where.”
Those Colors Again
Stairs
Steps
Stacks of grand books
Her hands reaching out
Sometimes there’s someone to grab them
White
Brown
Body unclothed
Her tears crying out
Never there’s anyone aware
Flying
Soaring
Feet on the ground
Her mind reaching out
Always there’s nobody who’ll speak
