that's mrs. mediocrity to you

up late, working late, back aches,
it’s already past my bedtime
and i’m not finished yet.

hand work, piece by piece,
busy work or works of art
i wish i knew the difference.

and then these words
bubble up to the surface
the way they will
when i forget to watch the pot,

songs and syllables that boil over
and make a mess

one that will stay there for days.

::

night owl, always
wandering through the dark
with no light

feeling my way
along the path i’ve worn
in these floorboards

in this room, in this house, in this life

with one impatient peony
in the garden

already bloomed and withered

before any of the others
have even begun

to open.

you can’t walk through fire until
you’ve sunk to your knees in the mud

or smell lavender promises
before brushing dirt from your lips

you won’t ever see sky
if you wear lost glasses

you’ll never talk to a bird
if you keep yourself grounded

you will always lack focus
if you ride through the mist

green will always be just a color
if you never lay down in the grass.

you can’t circumvent hope
if you wish to survive

or hold hands with a rock
when you seek all that’s tender

but you can talk to the wall
that has built its own tower

and form a ladder of change
that will grow with each breath.

:

:

:

this post is part of one shot poetry wednesday

yes
i have dents
and bruises
patches of rust
worn spots
leaking wisdom

each one acquired
through trial
and tribulation
and this weather
that offers
no mercy

most days
i would not trade it
but every so often i recall
an unblemished version
all new and shiny
whole and innocent

and
just for a moment
when the wind
passes through me
i whisper a tune
that echoes
regret

but then
i slip myself back
into this comfortable
broken-in skin
and try hard
not to smile

as she
stands there
all shy and quiet
absolutely alone
knocking softly
at time’s
back door

:

:

this post is part of one shot poetry wednesday, for more, click here.

::

petal dance

skirt blossom

bare shouldered

morning

::

flower song

fragrant muse

silhouette of

promise

::

whisper breeze

columbine

masquerade in

wing tips

::

listen still

touch gently

curve and spine

reveal

::

::

this post is part of one shot poetry wednesday, for more, click here.

birds but no bees

blooms but no leaves

silence but no golden

wind but no breeze.

::

day with no break

night with no rest

music with no refrain

heart with no ache.

::

smile but no grin

harm but no foul

simple but not easy

loss but no win.

::

life,

she says,

life.

::

::

::

this post is part of one shot poetry wednesday, for more, click here.

i too omit one kelly

::

a line from an e.e. cummings poem

that has always made me smile

being a kelly and all

and always wondering

which one

he chose

to omit.

::

april is national poetry month

::

and right now i am into

all things that make me

smile.

an ocean of hope

sinks into my heart

and washes it clean

of bitterness.

yes,

only temporarily,

but,

that is

life.

::

i send those

tiny boats of optimism

back out

with the tide.

yes,

an exercise in futility,

but,

that is

hope.

::

always,

it rolls

back in.

:

:

this post is part of one shot wednesday

crows, in groups of three.

a tree that stands, alone, in a field.

yellow daffodils whose smell is louder than their color.

a never-ending winter that i have made my peace with.

the promises that life has whispered in my ear.

this silence that pours into me like honey.

unopened buds singing songs of tomorrow.

a branch, extended like a hand,

to land on.

painting pictures in a world without color.

i crawl into this hole that nature has provided,

sing myself to sleep.

when i awaken,

clamber out of my cave

to see sun

glinting off leaves

and green mirrors,

i will have grown.

you write
when there are words,
and when there are none,
you wait.

it’s the silence that drives you mad,
despite its claim to necessary.

you run
when you are able,
and when your muscles fail,
you sit.

it is inertia that holds you hostage,
the resting that reclaims you.

you sob
when there are tears,
and when they’ve run their course,
you inhale.

it is the cleansing that keeps you whole,
a release to fix your broken.

you laugh
when there is joy,
and as the world reveals its soul,
you smile.

it is the hug you offer humanity
that gives you back your own.

you live
when there is life,
and with each breath,
you appreciate.

it is dawn that keeps you wondering,
as you watch the night unfold.

:

this post is part of one shot wednesday