Category: Poetry

Nursery Rhymes

wonder why

violets are blue

why Valentine roses

are always red

why I can’t find

those little white bells

nowhere

like looking for those little blue smurfs

or trolls under the bridge

and I forget what I wanted

back in ’91

by ’93 I was standing in a showroom

full of shiny boxes picking one

to put in a hole

wondering how I got there

when life takes a turn

you always ask yourself … how’d I get here

time moves

and it don’t

aging is a process

that you can never process

why’d the spider go up the waterspout

in the first place

didn’t it sense the danger

or was it seeking shelter

what a song to sing

to itsy bitsy kids

like an old man

in the rain

forgetting which house is his

or the old woman who lived in a shoe

what an imagination

like a cow jumping over the moon

and the fork running away with the spoon

if you live long

enough

you end up

following the breadcrumbs

down the yellow brick road

back to the beginning

up the vine

and into the clouds

TL

Intersection

the spider

leaves its line

a thread

of existence

that it once

was here

too

conscious

or unconscious

this is the way

of all things

the looming light

behind the cloud

was yesterday

a ruffled edge

in the wind

green gems

a shining chandelier

water over rock

and shell

what once was

dust

had shape

and form

and being

the rain falls

and some creatures

wiggle out

or crawl

while others take cover

under mush

rooms

or tall tall

trees

or petals

in a ring

the icebergs

are melting

the trails

are too long

by foot

what a waste

of wealth

10 fingers

10 toes

and this little

piggy stayed

home

where does it all go

the mind wears away

go by feel

when the heart was

whole

and the page was blank

a scribble of color

that first letter

first word

before there was thought

and thinking

and staying between

the lines

just a thread

TL

Dear Dad,

we never talked 

about this

and I guess

I’m only now

facing it

even though

you’ve been dead

30 years in March

it’s hard to say

i was

never angry

you left

i never blamed you

for any of it

but I realize

now

that your leaving …

and never coming back

was damaging

to my soul

it affected

every single relationship

i would ever have

from childhood to adulthood

when someone says

they love me

i don’t believe ‘em

‘ya know

it’s just automatic

i don’t think i ever

understood

what that means

or what it would mean

to the child left …

to the adult …

I think it’s important

to acknowledge it

though

even if it changes

nothing

you’re still gone

it doesn’t change

that

or how much I love you

nothing could ever

change that

you gave me the best of you

while with me

and when you weren’t

i would imagine

you were

I think I still

do that

got behind this car

the other day

and took a picture of the tag

93 Mike

it was right after that movie …

like it was a sign

that you’re still here

that you never left

that you were always with me

through it all

but you already knew that

right

TL

In the Swamp

still try

ing

to process

the pieces

sitting there

in the dark

before the lights

come on

in a packed room

on opening day

I felt …

exposed

I shouldn’t have come

thought I could

handle it

be all right

not like the book

books are too intimate

I cannot read the book

even though it was a gift

and I tried to

at the lake

when I couldn’t sleep

in the middle of the night

but after the first few

pages

I knew I would never read it

it’s too much

too close

too

it’s just too

but I thought the movie

would be ok

like I’d be ok

yeah no

there was a moment

in the movie

that hit me like a brick

I had to cover my mouth

so the sound wouldn’t come out

and clenched my fist

‘til the blood ran out

and like i did when i was a little girl

in my room

on my bed

with the door closed

i sat there

in my seat

very still and very quiet

and wept

even though I sat at the very tip top

I was the first to leave

like a bolt of lightning

I was gone

I had sat through the whole thing

and was now

sitting in my car

feeling numb

grateful I was alone

it was too much

I shouldn’t have come

even though it was well done

and I’d recommend it to anyone

it’s a must-see movie

with a great story

great writing

great acting

great directing

great producing

great, great, great

but not for me

it was not great

for me

I couldn’t just watch it

like I should have

like it was just a movie

of made-up characters

in a made-up story

like it was make-believe

that it wasn’t real

how could it be real

when it’s just a movie

on the big screen

it wasn’t real

TL

The Night Ninja

there’s a toad

untold

that greets me

at the door

I imagine

he has a tiny gold crown

on his tiny toad head

he sits on the threshold

as if he were

royal

for the killer cat

pays him no mind

and the stampede of barking dogs

don’t rattle him

none

his outer stillness

belies the warrior within

I could learn a lot from this here

toad

he’s a simple-type-fellow

that found his way

to my front door

on a night much like tonight

where the chorus of crickets

sing

and the firework fireflies

put on their show

he hopped out of nowhere

up the steps

in the middle of May

drawn to the castle lights

he now dines

like a king

his feast flying in

from near and far

he just sits there

all quiet and calm and still

waiting it out

like a featherweight

in the ring

eyeing an opening

ever light on his feet

and lethal with his punches

he knocks ‘em all out

and then assumes his position

in the middle of the doorway

a small stone statue

between two lights

and I thought the cat

was the Ninja

TL

The Unexpected Gift

yesterday

there was sand

all over the putting green

and the holes

had all disappeared

and over yonder

the chipping green

was the same

way

it was maintenance day

but I didn’t get the memo

got in my car

and went to another green

and putted

a few putts

before the thunder

took over

I love golf

but it’s not worth

getting struck by lightning

for it

which would be my luck

really don’t know

what I’d do without golf

at this point

and I would have never

tried it

even considered it

if it weren’t for my daughter

she was 5

hitting balls on the range

when a pro pulled me aside

and said she had the gift

don’t let her quit

well, that’s all it took

I had her signed up for lessons

before the sun set

and over the years

I watched her develop

taking the club back

and bringing it forward

into this beautiful

beautiful swing

she made it look

so effortless

I’d stand behind her

watching

as the ball blurred

out of sight

I can still see her

barefoot

on the putting green

the clouds pink overhead

I’m so grateful to all the pros

who taught her

how to play

this amazing

wonderful game

that teaches you

all about life

and the power

of now

TL

An American Korean

T a m i k o

is not my name

Tamiko is a Japanese name

I am not  Japanese

although I was called, “Jap”

growing up

I’m not  Japanese

I was raised white

but I’m not white

I’m Korean

but I don’t feel  Korean

I feel American

I speak only English

I write only English

but I look Asian

with almond eyes

and black hair

and tan skin

I don’t quite

fit in

if I want Korean food

I go to a Korean restaurant

and order it

like I did today

if I’m curious

about the Korean culture

I look online

like I did today

I have ancestors

but know none of them

and the older I get

the harder that is

to accept

my daughter

is the only

blood relative

I will ever know

she is my heart

and my Seoul

TL

(written in 2017)

The Greens

almost there

then a splat

and another splat

splat, splat, splat

put the wipers on

and park

and wait it out

it’s like

there’s the green

right there

in front of me

boundless and beautiful

but there’s this wall

of rain

relentless

that the weather app

failed to predict

and the humidity in the air

would electrocute my hair

if it ever stops

pouring

been raining steady

for days and days and days

and normally don’t mind

it

but there are times

hard times

when I don’t want

to play

I need to play

want and need

are two very very

different things

like love

and like

TL

A Tree Without Leaves

it’s raining

outside my window

the sunlight

shines through

the trees

like strings

at Christmas

twinkling

I wish it were

snow

and all was winter

white

untouched

but it never snows

in July

the water’s warm

I should be floating

away somewhere

as light as a leaf

down the river

following the flow

far from the tree

and its tangled roots

a tiny boat

sailing

across the sea

in a shimmering

of diamonds

weightless

nobody knows

the leaf

was once attached

to a lofty limb

its job

was waving

at the tourists

for a tree with no leaves

looks lifeless

and gray

like spring got lost

in winter

and forgot about summer

for fall

the leaf no longer green

and waving

fell into the wind

and found its way

to the shore

where all boats

begin again

TL

Why

hmmmmm

what is

the purpose

of pain …

there’s no hiding

in a hole

from it

it finds us

whoever we are

wherever we are

no matter the age

rich or poor

whether we’re ready or not

it’s coming for us

it can be the most beautiful day

or not

doesn’t matter the day of week

the year

the hour

the minute

the second

it’s there

taking form

taking shape

quietly

becoming

sometimes it’s a slow burn

other times

it smacks ‘ya dead

in the face

kicks ‘ya when you’re down

and out

like love

there are different levels

of it

the longer you live

the more you’ll experience

both joy

and pain

the deeper the joy

the deeper the pain

when tragic things happen

you wonder

why

why did it have to be

that hard

I can remember

being a child

and asking myself

that question

over and over

and over again

why

I’m older now

at the halfway point

and still

internally

externally

eternally

I’m asking

the same question

why

TL

Gone Global

here I am

at the keys

the world has

gone mad

maybe it always was

and we didn’t know it none

‘cause nobody really showed it

24/7

365 days

season to season

now everywhere ‘ya go

heads are down

and they ain’t praying

they’re scrolling an endless feed

on their never-leave-home-without-it-trusty-cell

phone

I’m not knocking technology per-se

I love Google and YouTube and Netflix

just as much as the next guy

but in increments of time

where ‘ya step away

get up and get out

as ‘ya get older and older and older

it becomes valuable

this ticking thing called

TIME

in a way you didn’t quite get

when you were 16

or in your 20s, 30s,

40s

I look over at 93

sleeping sound

that’s all he’s got now

in his control

is shut-eye

dreaming way up high

on a John Deere

or driving his ‘ole pick-up truck

with his little dog riding shot-gun

if the pandemic taught us anything about anything

at all

it taught us an ounce

of appreciation

for the little things in life

that are big

for a hot second

we were all elderly

or behind bars

locked away

behind a mask

now everybody’s angry about

something or another

or too sad to care

one way or the other

what do ‘ya tell the children

coming up

how do ‘ya protect ‘em

from it all

‘ya can’t

they’re gonna have to be

strong

mentally strong

right outta the gate

to make it

or else

they’re gonna be down

and out

before the bell

even rings

there has to be a foundation

a belief in their being

and all they’re capable of

to leave the world

better

than they found it

in some small way

that adds up

and ripples out

like a drop

of rain

TL

The Coroner

he died

by the lull

of the sea

somewhere

in his sleep

too soon

to enjoy

days in the sun

when the job

was finally

finally

finally

done

and put to rest

left

to another’s hands

for all the comfort

he gave

to a stranger

hurting

25 years of tears

he shed

as he drove his truck

away

from countless

scenes

images that wouldn’t

let him be

of unthinkable things

that happen

day

and night

as the seasons

turn

like the last cry

of a newborn babe

left in a sewer

to die

a

l

o

n

e

he made sure

the baby had a name

a proper burial

a blessing

…

you mattered

little one

and you’ll always, always

have a home …

TL

Letting Go

by the third

day

the dirt

was dust

the clouds

held back

the rain

all the roses

bled out

back to seed

the leaves fell

before fall

sticks stuck

in the desert

it was all a mirage

the well was dry

only fools search

the depths

for gold

believing emerald cities

actually exist

in some forsaken

corner

of the world

where the sea

meets the moon

mirrored in waves

and the stars float up

from the sky

leaving a stone

in its wake

TL

The Good Son

and in the evenings

he heads

down the road

to the pasture

unchanged

where the horses

can hear him come

before he ever steps

outta the truck

taking care of ‘em

has helped him heal

their quiet strength

centers him

he can go and tell ‘em

anything

and everything

or nothing

at all …

it didn’t matter

what he said

or didn’t say

they knew

they could feel it

in the tremble of his hand

in the silent stream

in the bowed head

he didn’t have to try

and hide it

or hold it

in the dusk

the heat or the rain

cold or wind

season to season

out there

on the range

feeding the horses

he’s just a boy

who misses his Mama

and aches for his Daddy

and just wants to make ‘em

proud

TL

Wherewithal

she was

born

without

a mother

of ease

or ignorance

or the luxury of means

for an orphan

bore her

one raised

behind a door

behind the eye of a child

witnessing the worst

of human weakness

the humility of hatred

the rage that knows no bounds

the loneliness of self-reliance

the betrayal of trust and safety

the abuse of position and power

the loss of what it means

to be little

but even an orphan knows the truth

that there’s always a choice …

before a tone turns deafening

before a hand becomes a weapon

before a drink becomes a poison

before a room becomes a prison

before a mask becomes a monster

before it’s too late for sorry

for someday

no apology can change

past transgressions

and the orphan lies awake at night

wondering

if the child she bore

will ever understand

what it is

to be free

truly free

to fly

above the cloud

and touch the color

taste the rain

feel the ray

see the blue

and know

that even when

the sky turns

and lightning burns the clouds black

and not a breath of wind can ease the ache

and not a drop of rain can reach the eye

and not a note of song can find the tree

let there be

but a remembering

of good things

that within the enormity

of loss

there is the smallness

of a word kept kind

that when felt

becomes gold

a gold greater than wealth

greater than all possession

all power

all greed

greater

still

TL

Adjustment

as I await

her return …

it occurs

to me

I am thus

forevermore

accustomed

to await

her return …

as I am

thus

in this

moment

solitaire

TL

Under the Stars

a cloud inside

a cloud

soft like cotton

sifting

the rain aching

to fall

but the blue won’t

turn gray

the light burns

behind the eye

it’s all gone

like waking

from a dream

you don’t remember

Dorothy in a field of red poppies

is anything in our control

being born

being buried

burned

the sea keeps reaching

closer

and closer

and closer

whether you’re ready

or not

we go

u

n

d

e

r

disappearing

from sight

and if only

you were loved

were you known

and if only

you loved

were you here

it’s not enough

to just

go through

to get by

to show up

when the dust settles

and all is quiet

know I loved you

more than this life

my darling, my dear

my yittle boo

my purpose

was you

it was always

you

(written on the beach May 13, 2022)

TL

Under the Sky

after

the candles

burn out

and what’s said is said

and the line

of people

go home

and the silence sets in

and the reality

becomes real

of what was

and what is

closes in

and there’s nowhere to go

but inward

the journey then begins

for those

left

who were not ready

not prepared

not yet

to bury

their love

but because they loved

their loved one so

they lived

a complete life

however long

however short

there is no other purpose

for a mortal being

than to love

and be loved

little children

know this

and teach us

what it is

to love

and be loved

TL

Young Love

don’t know

why

they call it

a breakup

when it’s actually

a breakdown

there’s nothing up

about it

ask any

one

who ever loved

and let go …

and went on

to live …

a different life

what it’s like

and when you’re young

still trying

to find your feet

and figure out

how to stand

on your own

that first break

first ache

first farewell

can feel un

bearable

like you’ll never be

h

a

p

p

y

again

some say

it’s not real

when you’re a teen

ager

but a young person

feels things

deeply

especially a sensitive soul

it’s not wise

to dismiss

that first welling

in the early years

for anything

other than

what it is

you are changed

inside

in a way that stays

with you

as you age

and each time

there’s a break

up

it’s a break

down

TL

The Hunt

i scurry

outta bed

gotta go hide the eggs

painted pastels

but the basket’s empty

i look everywhere for the eggs

but all i find are pieces

crushed and chipped

like tiny tiles

i try to find which piece

goes where

i pick one up

and put it down

years go by

did anybody ever find

the golden egg …

was it worth it

all that work

all that time

it took

searching

for a piece of plastic

with something good inside

can somebody tell me

if it was worth it

anybody

wait, what …

what did you say

I said, how do you like your eggs

scrabbled

fried

poached

hard boiled

sunny-side up

or over easy

but I don’t even eat eggs

then why you here

looking for eggs

i don’t know

i was hungry

i guess

well, look for something else

there’s more than eggs

on the menu …

I’ll come back

when you’re ready

TL