My Poems....

I don't have time to do a real entry right now. But I am copying and pasting my revised poems that were turned in for Creative Writing. I'll try to get a real entry in soon!

Debacle

Trail of water,

drop after drop,

leads down the hall.

The dog sits outside the door

staring at the mess, and she

barks out a warning

to the culprit.

Toilet paper is strewn

from the toilet,

to the door,

to the tub,

and back.

Oh! And on the ceiling!

How in the world?

Your clothes are all soaked

and dripping on the rug

that is soaked too.

Wet toilet paper is

paper machéd to your cheek

and forehead.

Water sliding down

the side of the toilet

like water down Niagara.

Drip drop, drip drop.

I look down at the dog

She could’ve helped,

I think.

Looking back at the child-made

flood,

your two year old grin greets

me as you flush my toothbrush.

Grabbing towels,

I stoop and wipe and

I feel your chubby wet hand

pat my head and

your look out,

the dog, licks my cheek and

hand in bowl,

I find my lipstick and

you laugh and

I laugh,

because if I didn’t

I’d go insane.

mary virginia

I am red:

gingham curtains, white and blue,

state on the news, silky pajamas, bank accounts.

I am blue:

cobalt bottles in the windowsill, suede heels,

berries on mama’s pie, toenail polish.

I am yellow:

bungalow behind the sycamores,

yield, don’t stop, couch at the coffee shop.

I am green:

crunch of rock candy, stained glass in my place of refuge,

the worst kind of dirty diaper, pawpaw’s swing.

I am orange:

clementines, crushed velvet chairs,

sweet potato pie, swimsuits on the beach.

I am purple:

cough syrup that makes me gag, giggles, paint

on the living room walls, pansies in the pot.

I am brown:

glass beer bottles, hazelnut coffee,

chocolate brunette, melting pralines.

I am black:

speeding asphalt going by, computer keys,

2000 Calorie mascara coming off, sleepy.

The Wicked Bean

Th

Ah we meet here again as morning breaks.

I wrap my hands around your perfect heat,

inhaling your scent and my body aches.

I pull you closer until my lips meet

your warmth and I feel you inside of me.

It takes a minute to get me going:

I’ve just woken up and I’m still sleepy.

I come alive inside, pleasure flowing.

Without you I don’t know how I’d survive.

My time spent with you gets me through each day.

My head falls back and I let out a sigh.

You’re certainly worth the extra I pay

for hazelnut whole bean, ground extra fine.

My first cup of coffee is just divine.

Thirty

This is the big time!

Time of the big stuff:

big schedules, big hips,

big mouth, big dreams.

And dreams being forgotten,

Or maybe just rethought.

Year of the big three – o.

Responsibility multiplies as again, cells divide.

Waist disappears, baby cries.

Rub a sweet soft fuzzy head,

take a breath, let out a sigh.

Immortality is mine.

Bliss in a family complete,

as statistics are filled.

Two of us, two kids, and the dog.

And three decades have passed. Gone

are the parties, but welcome to the clubs:

soccer moms, PTA, carpool.

Not fifty fake acquaintances,

but five real friends.

Best night out is a movie night in.

Me and you and buttery popcorn on the couch.

First time I’ve gotten to laugh

with you all day!

Comfort, security, and resting.

Feet tucked under, head on your shoulder.

Getting to breathe slow, wear my pjs

and be still a minute.

Because tomorrow I’m running

all over again:

Run to the bank, pay those bills,

watching kids kick goals,

and a grocery cart to fill.

Fifteen times two, sixty divided by two.

10,950 days of one life used, hopefully about

twice as many to go.