I have a little whale
All feathered in its
Gusty gale.
I don’t think he ever
Stops to think
Why I put him in my sink.
–by Leia J. Resnick (age 7)
(My daughter wrote this poem while we were away. I promised her I would post it.)
Vacation
•February 27, 2013 • 5 CommentsMy life on a napkin
A map of neighboring states
Remains two-dimensional
And paper-thin
Easily inked on
With misshapen letters
Folded around stale flavorless gum
Crumpled and discarded
Or shoved in a pocket
My life in a bed sheet
At first crisp
Clean and tucked
Cocooned at noon
Then tossed at 3 am
Undone around the edges
Feeling more like love
With each wearing in
My life in a glass
Full of color and flavor
Savor each sip and gulp
Emptying
Playful haze of days
As the vessel is left
Clearly seen through
Waiting to be filled again
Placed with the other dirties
Or shattered by a careless elbow
I need another
I want to crawl into another
I’ll take another
To soak up
To swathe
To suffuse
“Mountain Ecstasy” by Maxfield Parrish
Outside My Window
•February 26, 2013 • 1 CommentSnowflakes and crows
My thoughts with the trees
Chase after each other
On the wintery breeze
Black feathers crisp
Against hills covered white
Sun blotted out by the grey
Tops of trees swaying slight
Bare branches like arms
They are reaching for me
Embraced by chilly dark dancing
Of snow, crows, and trees
All at once wrapped in a silence
Bundled up by the drift
Minuet moves to stillness
Like those mountains, I sit
Picture by me at Keystone Lodge, Colorado
Flight
•February 26, 2013 • 4 CommentsFrom 10,000 feet
And ascending
A rock quarry
Reminds me of my middle
A hole meticulously scooped out
In search of precious pebbles
An inverted Mayan temple
At its pinnacle
A tiny mirrored pool
Full of earthy minerals
Reflecting light and sky
In the midst of dirt and rock
And manmade machines
That carry once buried bits away
But all that welled up water
Must be worked around
Cannot be ignored
Smooth and glassy
Occasionally rippled by wind and weather
Blue and beautiful
Born of steadfast immovability
Blackout
•February 22, 2013 • 2 CommentsWhen the lights go out
Small things are easier to lose
Big things are harder to avoid bumping into
I, Me, Mind
•February 20, 2013 • 1 CommentMind
A relay station
Between sensation and story
Beyond that
I do not quite understand it
I cannot quite master it
I will use it
For words and watching
A teardrop spilled and falling
Down the side of a porcelain tub
Sometimes I lie at the bottom
Let the water fill
Warm surface tension
Slowly inching upward
Around my face
I cannot help but
To imagine what this
Last breath
Might feel like
Would I savor it
Or let fear and anxiety invade
My last full inhalation
Mind
A relay station
Between sensation and story
Painting, “Bathtub” by Richard Lezette
Say Something
•February 18, 2013 • 4 CommentsSay something nice to me,
Just because I am,
Trying, living, making an effort.
Say something nice to me,
Not because I am good,
Or even slightly worthy.
Say something kind to me,
Because your voice soothes,
When self doubt scorches my soul.
Say something kind to me,
As if yours were the last,
I would hear on this earth.
Say something sweet to me,
To tide me over,
Until I can believe and be satiated.
Say something sweet to me,
While my own bitter tongue,
Lashes me so.
Say something, anything, to me,
To remind me that I exist,
At all.
Flesh
•February 17, 2013 • 4 CommentsExposed
Dirty
Gritty
Handled
Washed
Smooth
Shining
Pressed
Peeled
Grated
Pungent
Bitter
Tang
Lingering
Depth
Sacrificed for my consumption,
Sweet pulp left mangled and dripping,
From the tree, of the vine?
I marveled in your deconstruction,
Had a hand in your destruction,
I am fed, intoxicated, titillated.
Painting: http://www.carolleethompson.com
My Promise
•February 14, 2013 • Leave a CommentI cannot give you normal,
Sweet girl,
It is not written in our DNA.
I cannot give you perfection,
Firecracker,
It does not exist.
I cannot give you siblings,
One and only,
I am aware of my own resources.
I cannot give you God,
“My little witch,”
When I cannot find him myself.
I cannot give you ALL of me,
Dear daughter,
Without compromising us.
I cannot give you forever,
Butterfly,
We must learn to value now.
But I can give you my presence,
Baby girl,
I am here.
While I can will it,
Leia,
I will show up for you.
sometimesihatemycat 