“Ours” Poetica

Often written from the heart

A poem is how a marriage starts

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Writing thoughts down for each other

Showing how you really feel

The destination is not always clear,

But the words begin to pave a road.

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Emotion doesn’t always show

A poem can help your marriage grow

On the paper you pour your thoughts,

Cluttered in mind but neat on paper

Maybe you keep them to yourself

Or you choose to invite the world.

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Talent, not much is needed

A poem is like bread after it’s kneaded

Once you start a purpose is bloomed

This garden now has to be watered

Constant attention can drown your flowers-

When water is limited it means the most.

 

“I Don’t Know”

I don’t know

What to write

Right now the

Words are not

Coming to

My mind

 

I don’t know

What I don’t

Know right

Now I don’t

Know what I

Don’t know

 

I don’t know

How my poem

Will end right

Now I don’t

Know how to

Extend it

 

I don’t know

If it’s good right

Now I don’t

Have a good

Plan for it

 

I don’t know

What other’s

Words will be

Like as they

May propose

Real questions

 

List Poem: A College Student’s Day 

Monday’s alarm,

Breakfast!

Get ready, homework,

Coffee, meet with dean,

Anatomy, Health,

Lunch!

English, printing,

Dinner!

Gym, homework,

Snack, bed?

Where’d the day go?

 

Postcard Poem

Running

Around the trails

An obstacle course

Of all things

 

Up and down

The slide

Where you should

Only go down

 

Racing

As fast as I could

Then stars

In my eyes

 

The front of my

Young head

Meeting the

Metal cross bar

 

Blurry eyes

But I won!

But did it matter

No

 

First the doctor

Second the neurologist

Third the machine

On a big truck

 

It was so cold

Still, uncomfortable

Loud, lonely

What happens next

 

To Disney

On a plane

Where I could

No longer go

 

Brag Poem

In high school I worked hard

Honor roll from 8th grade on

Because of this I got rewards

Pushing me to keep going

 

In high school I thrived

Outstanding Effort in Spanish II

Outstanding Effort in Spanish III

My teacher helped me to succeed

 

In high school I did it all

Tennis Sportsmanship Award

Cross-Country Sportsmanship Award

I played candid and my finest

 

In high school I went above

National Honor Society

Early meetings, sleep depleted

But it was all worth it

 

In high school I sang it out

All the way to Tennessee

To the Grand Ole’ Opry

Then back home to have a solo

 

In high school I acted

Spending nights on the stage

Putting on a show

Gaining a family

 

In high school I served

President, secretary, treasurer

Leading meetings and events

Serving my community

 

In high school I built myself

Earning many scholarships

Preparing for my future

To get where I am now.

 

Free Poem

Weekend love is hard

It’s Monday but Friday seems far away

So much happens between these days

And I have so much to tell you.

 

Being without you is a challenge

It’s Tuesday and I don’t feel well

I failed a test, I’m really stressed

And I need your arms more than ever.

 

Eating alone doesn’t have flavor

It’s Wednesday and my work is done

I have free time for an hour-

But there’s no one to savor it with.

 

Studying alone isn’t effective

It’s Thursday and I have an exam

But I’m really just thinking of you

Planning our reunion in my head.

 

Weekend love is my motivation

It’s Friday and I waste no time

Work then class and finally

I can go home to his arms.

 

The weekend is here and I feel whole

Saturday’s are blissful days

Filling each other in

Never wanting the day to end.

 

The next day is the hardest

Sunday is a ticking time bomb

The hours fly and I have to go

Peeling away from each other-

 

Until Friday comes again.

 

Bread Poem: Bread and Butter Pickles

When my mom makes pickles,

vinegar steals the air like a sponge absorbing water.

It starts out in the garden.

She buys the seeds and nestles them in the ground

the way she used to tuck me in.

 

She waters them and cares for them

as they will give back to her one day.

Summer slows down and it’s time to fetch

the loved canning jars from the basement

where all the extra things go.

 

Cucumbers line the countertop

like papers on a busy college student’s desk.

I sit across from her and watch as her

strong hands slice the glossy green cucumbers

so delicately, but not too thin as they are fragile like me.

 

In a shirt that once was mine

she fills the large metal bowl with the thin green circles

that we’d use on our eyes to renew ourselves.

Meanwhile the stove is topped with the big pot of

boiling water that magically seals the lids of the cans

so they can linger in our dusty basement.

 

Then when we’d have Shepard’s pie or something

that needed extra love then one of us would go down

to get the delicious pickles-

and they are so good that half the jar would be consumed at once.

And they are so good that I never want to be too far away from her.

 

Epiphany poem: Selfish

It was the worst headache.

I didn’t have breakfast on purpose, instead I laced up my tennis shoes.

She drove me to the court where my teacher was waiting.

I, running on nothing but love for the game.

Feeling empty but empowered, I played for hours.

She picked me up and I refused a powerbar.

I made it this far so what is another hour?

The headache didn’t leave but I refused to give it the medicine it pleaded for.

The days went on like this.

Sipping green tea instead of eating.

But do you know how hard it is to sleep when your body is that hollow?

12:30 am.

Trying to go unnoticed as I tiptoe down the stairs and shove food into my starving body,

hating myself and trying to fight the fact that it tastes so good,

and by then the counter is piled with food

and I have eaten a carton of Neapolitan ice cream and anything else I could find.

Morning comes and I feel worse than ever because

what I did last night was a sin to myself and I stare in the mirror with my ankles together.

Lucky for me, my thighs still don’t touch and I try to do it all over.

“You’re going to kill yourself.”

Standing in the bathroom doorway.

She looks at me in sadness and disapproval.

The hint of a cry in her voice, like it’s obvious what I’m doing is wrong.

Like I know how to change myself.

But those words she said changed it.

They changed my whole perspective.

The way she said it, the look in her eyes.

She looked so hurt and it was this moment I realized-

I wasn’t only doing this to myself.

I was hurting everyone around me.

 

Eddie Adams Poem

My life suddenly flashed before my eyes

From the most minuscule

To the greatest things I’ve done.

I thought about my family

My three little girls at home,

Probably playing with their straw dolls

That I made them last fall because we were poor.

 

It was a hard winter

We survived on rice we had harvested in the fall

And vegetables we had canned that summer

He was always on the battlefield, so I had to do it alone

But I couldn’t leave them alone,

they would not survive without me.

 

“Please spare me”

I did not know what was better.

To speak or let my words go unsaid

The passing seconds felt like hours

I had not prepared for this moment

My youngest daughter barely two years old.

For the Sleepwalkers Poem

Today I want to recognize

Those who cannot speak without their hands

Who don’t have the ability to scream but remain calm.

 

Lips moving too fast, then pausing.

If they could respond with their lips moving back they would

But instead of their lips they sign.

 

People don’t know and make assumptions of ignorance,

Although they are actually paying attention the most.

It is the actions that tell the story.

 

I love the way they don’t give up.

Enduring people who overemphasize or speak louder

Sometimes they really are trying to help.

 

If we were animals it would be this way

They have their own language, with sounds we don’t understand

And we talk to them with words they don’t know

But the emotion is still felt.

 

Wouldn’t it be easier if we all learned this language

If we could simply take the class when we were young?
No one would need an interpreter.

 

How we take it for granted.

Being able to ask a question and be done

Not having to hire people to help you understand

 

There is a world we don’t know.

Sometimes it feels like people would hear me louder in silence

If we all stopped and listened to the silence

It could take us to a place unknown.

 

Syntax Emerges Poem

If you have been told lies

With ill consideration sent through,

Shouting through a screen that you’re worthless

And pretending it didn’t affect you.

 

If you have then realized

That aggression sent to your inbox is not true

Because the only one who can define yourself is you.

 

Then you can make your life worth more than they could ever afford

And do things they could only ever dream of

Because instead of staying at the bottom of the slide

That they just pushed you down-

 

You start to climb the ladder.

 

But once you have climbed that ladder of realization

It starts to become a mountain

And you stand on top of that mountain,

Looking down at the rocks below.

 

Who You Are Version 2.0

Hung up in suspension,

It’s like crying in a dark closet.

You’re in a cold little chamber of pain and grief,

But then a light clicks on.

 

Light like an equator between Heaven and Hell,

And no such light switch.

On the inside you feel vexed at the world,

Like morning eyes resenting bright light.

 

But you present yourself as a

reposed well being,

Who walks and talks

with magnanimous behavior.

 

No soul knows your true potential.

You’re hiding in your sun kissed skin

Which acts like a people magnet.

 

So the people you’re surrounded by

Love your fake self.

But who are you?

You’re holding back,

 

Like a child clinging to their mother.