Different Poems within the Timelines of my Life
Rhythm and Rhyme;
-
The Blossoming of Images
-
through Dreams;
- Beginning in Recent Time;
- Some Full in Front & Center Space;
- Others Still Hidden;
- Hazy in the Weaving of Lace;
- Shreds of Memories;
- of Days Long Ago.
Watershed years
I didn’t remember
came so early
in one’s time.
From broken sidewalks
to desert trails
foot-printed by
horned and scaly creatures.
Buzzing of wasps,
june bugs and
moths,
clothed the hot
breezes
with eternal murmurs.
Rhythm and Rhyme
My first experience
with song
arriving
at the right time
to hear waves
to see music
to connect to
beauty and places
far away.
Child of poverty
who didn’t dare
ask for anything
that wasn’t there
in front of me.
It is well known
we as human beings
are layered
in almost all aspects
of our lives.
What one sees,
hears and experiences
on an everyday basis
is only a tiny petal
of our wholeness.
When one’s
early memory life
reveals states
of fear and trepidation,
bursting from
acts of anger,
breathing in
an atmosphere of anguish,
despair, depression and
some sense of being overwhelmed,
some petal buds
waiting to open
stay curled
and closed.
Dick and Jane
Were not much fun
All they could do
Was walk, talk and run.
Their life
seemed so pale
against the broad stroke
brushings
of desert skies
that fueled
my dreams.
Forcing a child
to voice
a school’s standards
forces a child
to choose.
T R E E S
T is for TALL
As trees can be
They grow near a wall
Or by the sea.
R is for REACH
With their branches high
Where they wear their leaves
And get close to the sky
E is for EVERYTHING
That’s looking for shade
To keep out the sun
So colors won’t fade
Another E is for EXTRA
That trees give each day.
A place for a party
Or a place to play.
S is for Service
From tree to root
With gifts that help us from day to day
With furniture, fuel, paper and fruit
Trees help our lives to an easier way.
Rolling my skirt up,
The first time I dared,
My brown and white saddle shoes
and boney legs
were bared.
My first boyfriend,
As shy
As was I,
Walking through the halls
The first time
My hands
Were held.
Happy to be
In choir to sing
A time to transcend
My feelings of doubt,
Of fear
Of hiding
Of knowing
That trouble
Was brewing
At home.
Erstwhile,
My first hair curls
In honor
Of my sister’s graduation
I was pleased to sing
“We’ve Only Just Begun”.
Little did I know
How true the song was.