Jiminy Cricket

and there you are, churning the soft earth
where we buried you
with all the dignity
we could muster

Jiminy Cricket wore your shoes for a while,
but your footsteps were too hard to follow —
so he missed a step &
got back on track,
for better or worse

I am sorry you are still lost —
but there is nothing left to say
when all the answers
are ash & bone
& broken, too.

Cacophony

you swallowed your sinewy thoughts
with the contents of a chipped coffee mug
at that old place just around the corner
& drifted to the bottom for

17

endless

seconds,

accompanied by the hollowed out
‘Do’s & Don’ts’ of social convention.
& when
she brushed her hair back, smUgly,
all you longed to see
were the remnants of vividness
her eyes once possessed,
but spires of woe
clouded her vision.

Fragments

ftoospets mlet in pddules
and i lsoe tcrak
for the hnudretdh tmie
tihs day;
i straed too hrad
at dmears lnog psat.

yuor gsohted slmie
is my rdidle,
yuor joureny
my pzzule,
and i am sitll
the one lfet bnihed
atfer all teshe yraes;
not kwnonig wrehe to setp.

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Brian over at dVerse invites us to write a poem about puzzles for Poetics today. I assure you, this poem’s not written in a foreign tongue. Heh. 😉 Grab a pen and join us at the bar!

It’s been a While…

storytime
on grandma’s lap,
caramel goodness
prevents jaws from functioning;
that moth-ball-smell
of her cardigan,
the rough fabric
scratching your cheek ~

what would you give
to be
that kid again;
the one who
looks at the world
with eyes, so big
and full of wonder?

a glimpse
triggers a smile…
and loving gestures
live on forever.

Childhood Memories

through a child’s eyes
i watched you go
and did not understand
why you left
the picture i made for you
on the windowsill
in the sterile hospital.

i put
much love
into the crayon drawing –
and there it lay,
while your bed
was cold and empty…
you did not
take it with you.

i do remember
when you were sick,
dying already
(i didn’t know, wasn’t told…
too much for a child’s mind to bear?)
how you lifted your covers
for me each day
and i
could climb
into the warm softness
of your sweet embrace.

and then
you were gone –
my mother’s eyes red and tired
and i didn’t know why.

i do not know
where you went
but i long
to feel the sweet comfort
of crawling under those covers
again.

The Irony of Life

the first frown appears
on the newborn’s face
while the father
takes his last breath

too late
for father and son
to lock their eyes
and know
the bond

the newborn’s wails,
the flatline’s shrill sound
are the soundtrack
to the mother’s heavy tears

Typical Day at the (Home) Office

the cat started screaming and the newborn did, too
which was which, no one ever could tell
and the mother, she stirred what was left of her stew
pushing memories back down the black well.

the dad was long gone, left the bills by the phone
“I will be there, whatever you need!”
she believed him that day and her heart turned to stone
and she told herself never to plead.

round and round turned the world and the newborn, it grew
and the mother got older and frail
and the son, fully grown, now took care of her, too
while the cat was long gone, cold and pale.