Category: Poetry

Papa Sherwood

it’s been dark

out the window

thunder and lightning

since your daughter

called

and said the word:

hospice

home hospice

had to get off the phone

thought we made a deal

you promised

what happened

you’re 7 years short

of the deal

now your house

is flooded

the garden’s under

water

the birdfeeder just floated by

blueberries are bubbling up everywhere

your rose bushes are all a mess

your American Flag is soaking wet

now your tractor’s gonna rust

and your Christmas lights are shorted out

your camera lens got busted

your Velcro shoes are somewhere at the bottom

where your desk is

all the battery back-ups won’t charge

the locks have lost their keys

the keys have lost their locks

the grill just fell over

the crank to the ice cream bucket’s

gone

your coffee cups are in pieces

your postage stamps and envelopes

won’t stick

all your clothes in the closet

are too heavy for the hangers

your mailbox is up river

in someone else’s yard

your thermostat is set to heater

your watches and trinkets and gadgets

are scattered about

there’s no wind in your windmill

or footprints in the soil

the phone is off the hook

the table lost its setting

all the dishes fell out the cabinets

pictures missing out the frame

there’s debris everywhere

your house is spinning

off its axis

in Kansas now

with the cows

somebody left the gate

open …

go on then

your Mama’s calling

see your son waving

he’s been waitin

go on then

there’s your Daddy

coming up

on the horse

it’s ok

you can walk now

don’t need the cane

look at Frannie go !

she’s missed you so

go on then

Granny’ll be ok

you left her

in good hands

go on then

TL

The Well Within

as a parent

your natural

instinct

is to protect

your child

it’s not something

that goes away

with time

you never want

to see them hurting

and yet you know they will

there will be times

when it will hurt

and you cannot change that

for all the drops in the ocean

their journey is theirs

alone

they must draw

from the well

within

when things get

hard

to comprehend

in a black and white world

you mustn’t forget

the gray

the varying shade

of gray

it’s up to you then

to paint

not what you see

around you

but what you see

within you

like what the wise fox whispered

soft

to The Little Prince

“and now here is my secret,

a very simple secret:

it is only with the heart

that one can see rightly;

what is essential is invisible

to the eye …”

TL

For My Father

the drive took

3 hours

and one day

24 hours

1,931 miles

from here

to there

that’s how far

you drove

that day

I wasn’t in the car

with you

but i was

right there beside you

the whole way

it rained the whole time

but you kept driving on

through the dark

getting closer to the city

the city of lights

you made it

and had to pull over

overcome

it was a lot

but you made it

through

starting over

at the bottom

when you lose

everything

that matters

it gives you

perspective

an internal perspective

on life

you saw those Vegas lights

on the darkest dark of nights

blurred in the rain

and woke up

in the sunlight

and the birds were still singing

your heart still beating

and i was there

with you

and i knew

you’d be ok

i needed you to be ok

so i could be ok

so i could see you again

someday

be there

to bury you

30 years to the day

and I know

you’re ok

when I wake up

in the sunlight

and the birds are still singing

my heart still beating

i know you’re ok

‘cause i’m ok

TL

Raining Crystals

used to spend

hours

on a dirt road

digging for quartz

crystal

it wasn’t paved

back then

but a cloud

of dust

a muddy mess

when it rained

hot on bare feet

in the blaze of summer

rock hard in the dead of winter

took so many walks

up and down

that dusty dead-end

never searching

for gold

‘cause there’s no prism

in a nugget

but if you hold a quartz

crystal

up to the light

there’s a rainbow

in your hands

i had a collection of color

something hopeful

in my pocket

since then my collection

has morphed

into Swarovski

anything with a sparkle

stops me

so when I saw this ginormous quartz

crystal

under a spotlight

incased in glass

I stood there

transfixed

my daughter noticed me

taking pictures

of it

and listened to me

ramble on

about how

i used to dig in the dirt for hours

looking for a cut of crystal

diamonds to me

and here was this enormous slab

that reminded me of that scene in Superman

the fortress of solitude

it was something to see

up close

but nothing quite

could prepare me

for the sight of it

in my house

full of rainbows

and light

the weight of it in my hands

on the day I turned 50

and all I could do was

cry

TL

Dessert Plate

the plate

was empty

void of art

or color

design

circular in nature

a plain

marshmallow white

it sat on a shelf

waiting

not knowing

for what

until a small hand

reached up

and lifted it

out

suddenly the plate

was full

it had color

and design

art

it had never

felt

like this

before

and even after

being scraped

and submerged

and scrubbed

clean

and put back

on a shelf

the plate

was no longer

plain

or empty

as it were

for it had

served

its purpose

TL

Eminem’s Jade

she is

the best

thing

that ever

happened

to him

she helped

heal him

just by her being

just to be here

in this moment

in time

amid the roses

and the melody

they’ll dance

the daddy-daughter

dance

TL

i know …

what it’s like

to be home

less

over and over and over

again

i know

what it’s like

to be hungry

over and over and over

again

i know

what it’s like

to be afraid

over and over and over

again

i know

what it’s like

to be burned

over and over and over

again

i know

i’m not  a l o n e

people survive

their circumstances

or they don’t

they go on

or they go

away

what could be

worse

than suicide

to think there’s

nothing

to live for

no more

too many

have left

not strong

enough

to face

the night

or the day

but what’s worse

than that

is taking

not only your life

but the life of

others

innocent others

who never stood

a chance

they walk in

with guns blazing

with the intent to kill

not only themselves

but anyone and everyone

in sight

they hole up in their

houses

with the intent to kill

not only themselves

but their spouse

their very children

anybody in the house

they get behind the wheel

with the intent to kill

not only themselves

but whoever’s in the car

with ‘em

they take the pills and drink the poison

with the intent to kill

not only themselves

but whoever’s around ‘em

they offer it up or force it down

they walk around free

and clear

getting away

with murder

with rape

with the intent to harm

another

physically

mentally

emotionally

but a body’s soul

belongs to but

no one

the soul cannot

be killed

this

i know

TL

Behind the Curtain

Roberta Flack

still plays

on her green piano

“Will You Still Love Me

Tomorrow …”

her undeniable voice

echoes through time

and space

like the mist

over water

leaving its veil

“The First Time

Ever I Saw

Your Face …”

TL

The Wind

it once was

a beautiful

vessel

carefully crafted

in glass

fired by breath

in ember

it would hold

a waterfall

where a white rose

still enclosed

would sip

there was no warning

when the storm hit

the wind so full of force

knocked the vase

to the floor

where it shattered

into stars

marking the night

the waterfall

crept away

in waves

leaving the stem

unformed

the rose had lost

the sun

and the moon

and all the stars

all at once

the storm had

dug into the dirt

and made a hole

and covered it

up

‘til there was no trace

no scent

nothing

so much of nothing

even the rose

herself

forgot …

so she slept

beneath the dirt

as the seasons

came and went

not knowing

that even in the dark

she was still alive

still forming

there was no warning

when the storm hit

the wind so full of force

dug into the dirt

down deep into the dark

and lifted the rose

up

and they danced

away

far away

from the forgotten place

where time had stopped

ticking

the wind laid the rose

in a garden

and wept over her

‘til she adjusted

to the light

the rose had changed

now fully formed

it had been growing

in layers

in the darkness of nothing

and that night

the earth moved

and time resumed its

ticking

the rose saw the stars

shattered in the night sky

so far away

from where she was

and it was like seeing them

for the first time

and the moon

appeared

with its full face

shining

like a ray on the rose

and after long reflection

she saw herself

again

remembering how roses

bloom

and in that moment

there in the garden

in the season of the sun

she knew no

death

TL

“Love, Pamela”

she’s a Fighter

she’s a Dreamer

she’s a Mother

she’s a Child

she’s a Lion

a Lioness

that won’t be

ever be

tamed

TL

Serendipity

Saturday

morning

was back

in town

the one I didn’t

grow up in

but grew up in

driving the interstate

from exit to exit

in the pouring rain

seeing my stories

for the first time

on the front page

of a newspaper

that somebody somewhere

would read

with their cup of coffee

right away the lady editor

sent me out the door

with directions to a house

in some neighborhood

I’d never been before

where a painter lived

a painter of roses

back then I couldn’t afford

her exquisite works of art

but her perfect petals

graced the front page

in color

and I’ll never forget it

and how I hoped

she would like the story

she called

and I felt like

I had won something

you can’t buy

I hadn’t been back in town

since 2003

after the internship ended

20 years ago

and as I was leaving town

floats went by

and as I sat there watching

this small town parade

go by

I smiled and thought

how much this would have touched

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

that a small town in Georgia

would never forget

TL

“You Gave Me A Mountain”

there’s not

a song

he could sing

to her

not a single note

could soothe

her

no melodic melody

or soft lullaby

could lift this

hurt

off her chest

she will live with it

the weight of it

for all of her days

and nights

the silent suffering

of going on …

knowing she will never

ever see

or hold

or kiss

her precious baby

again

not in this life

but the feeling

remains

the longing of it

never leaves

this is the part

of love

that you learn

after the leaving

takes hold

no matter what they say

there’s no such thing as

letting go

(For Priscilla Presley)

TL

In the Book

I stare

at a blank

page

‘til it blurs

and burns

waiting

for the feeling

to fade

but it just stays

in the creases

quiet in the silence

dark in the corner

touched in the dust

that’s always there

like a shadow on the wall

that appears

and disappears

moving like the seasons

like a memory in the mind

too much at once

then not enough

not nearly

why can’t I find

closure

maybe there’s no such thing

maybe it’s on the faces

of us all

hidden behind the Hi

unnoticed in the Bye

TL

Michelle Yeoh

in different

time zones

across the globe

in different phases

of life

tears fell

from a deep well

of sorrow

that it took

this long

TL

Fit at 50

lost between

sets

and breath

I lie there

on a dirty floor

suspended in straps

thinking

is it so much to ask

to see

my abs

I mean really

I haven’t seen ‘em

in a decade

it’s like they’re buried

behind a plush pillow

one of those plushies

I keep in my car

but I’m determined

to see ‘em

once more

it’s not like I haven’t been

working out

all these years

it’s jest not as easy

to remove the plushie

anymore

ask any woman

after midlife

on the brink

of menopause

what it’s like

to eat right and exercise

and still feel

the pudge protrude

and as you pat the plushie

wishing it would jest fall off

already

your 16-year-old daughter

breezes by

after 3 weeks in the gym

all excited like

look mom !

look at my abs …

do you see ‘em

yep

yep

yep

I see ‘em dear

you better appreciate it now

‘cause once you’re my age …

but she doesn’t hear

‘cause she’s

floating on air

as I lie there

on a dirty floor

suspended in straps

lost between

sets

and breath

thinking …

TL

Chip Away

eating

and

exercise

is ever

intwined

like

hoarding

and

purging

the more you

consume

over time

the harder it is

to manage

the weight of it

ALL

but whatever was

brought in

can be

taken back

out

piece by piece

over time

TL

Plop

the little boy

loved fishing

the cranking sound

of reeling

the process of finding bait

and sticking it

on the hook

then raring back

like a roping cowboy

and hearing the plop

hit the water

then slow-like

bringing the line

back

he always knew

when he had a bite

his heart would race

in his little chest

and he just knew

he just knew

it’d be …

but it was jest

a shoe

somebody lost

long ago

and it stunk

too

he made a face

and unhooked it

and checked his bait

saw that it was still

good

then roped back

and flung forward

in a different

direction

and felt the line

pull

and his heart

race

TL

“And I Will Always Love You”

the Whitney

of my youth

is on the big screen

in the winter

of 2022

TL

For the Love of Books

the act

of reading

a page

to its bitter-

sweet

end

is a sort

of journey

one takes

within

long or short

there is movement

however slight

one becomes

what one becomes

a traveler …

I love this

there is something

otherworldly

about it

to hold a book

tangible

in one’s hands

and open it up

to a page

and silently read

its written words

absorbing its inner

thoughts

and images

the feeling

of it all

of what it has to say

to convey

interpreted in a myriad of ways

and how

one wrote it

in the solitude of the mind

in ancient times

or present day

yesterday or tomorrow

a writer’s work

remains

within the reader

it is a way

of connecting the past

to the present

and the present

to the past

and back again

into the future

unknown

it is a time-honored-way

of imagining

of creating

of learning

of teaching

of searching

of thinking

of finding

of exploring

the meaning

reading should be

ever as it was intended

a pleasure

a simple pleasure

you make the time

for

in the maze of the day

or the blocks of the night

at any age

at any time

anywhere

it’s there

waiting for your return

I love to read

in my car

it’s quiet there

a room within itself

full of natural light

and dots of rain

and stacks of books

nibbled

or half-bitten

fully digested

it’s where i go

to feel most

like myself

TL

When in Winter

in the pool

of reflection

i saw so many

things

there were parts

forgotten

and parts apart

from forgotten

in a frozen block

in centuries such

as this

where the sun

is a shadow

but under a grove

of turning trees

the water runs

continuously

and life teems

beneath

its eternal spring

where the wild

come to drink

i feel the strands

of willows

in the wind

and watch the sun rise

and set

across the water

deep

much too far to reach

where the fish and muck have

floated up

and no deer dares to drink

the stars look down

and see it all

for truth is truth

and most truths

are too much to bear

like death

depending on

one’s nature

either you see

the entirety

or pick and choose

which part

to play

pretending you haven’t

the time

such requires

when that’s all anyone

has

is time

as those who haven’t

any

would say

TL