Tag: poetry
member name: M M.
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June 20, 2007 09:29 AM EDT --
I'm deeply grateful he has stayed with me.
Or perhaps I'm just a charity case.
He knows my soul, my work, my life, my needs.
Hands me the Kleenex box before the tears
Start coming. So many . . .
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June 20, 2007 11:23 AM EDT --
Nothing special, except to him.
How curious, they were more than toys.
We buried them at the sidewalk's rim.
Nothing special, except to him.
He lost them - eyes began to dim,
Slobbery, stepped . . .
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April 16, 2007 12:44 AM EDT --
An incident: a woman I had regarded as my best friend for ten years invited me for coffee. "So lovely to hear your voice," she'd said in her voicemail mesage, a response to my having called . . .
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June 12, 2007 05:07 AM EDT --
Don't tear me a(par)t.
My s(par)tan life (par)ts
Like a stream. It de(par)ts
As you close my a(par)tment door.
(Par)ts of my rusted (par)titioned self
Finally fail - the com(par)tments
. . .
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June 18, 2007 10:37 AM EDT --
WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF YOU KNEW YOU COULD NOT FAIL ?
I’d get that manuscript in the mail.
Spend a day living as a snail, slow
And leaving my trail of slime
Without regard to erasures . . .
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June 28, 2007 08:11 AM EDT --
A hot day in June.
Cherries to pick, one dwarf tree
An endless yield.
Cherries to pick. As I am
Dried, frozen, boiled into jam.
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July 12, 2007 04:17 PM EDT --
Sometimes I have
and sometimes not.
It is the not that forms the knot.
We all know this. We are
born to this knowledge
as we tighten our fingers
to our mother's, as we turn
our heads . . .
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April 17, 2007 11:36 PM EDT --
We edit the pain. This is how we survive.
But it remains like shrapnel under skin
and rises, and sometimes breaks the surface.
But it does not break us.
Sometimes it disfigures, or makes us perfect . . .
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May 21, 2007 03:30 PM EDT --
The reddish-pink Korean ones in bloom
Gone to seed, the common purple clumps
Now sere, brown - a shabby room
The reddish-pink Korean ones in bloom.
I think of sticks, of switches, broom
And childhood . . .
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April 13, 2007 04:59 PM EDT --
Four, thirteen, seven.
Haiku: just numbers, not bad
or good. Just numbers.
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May 15, 2007 04:37 AM EDT --
Hanging laundry on the line.
A warm, breezy day.
Pants and shorts are joined at the hip.
I use my mother's clothespins.
She died six years ago, a week after Mother's Day.
What do you do with . . .
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June 01, 2007 05:00 AM EDT --
He does not wander far away.
It's hard to make it down those steps.
He is fourteen years old today.
He does not wander far away.
He is fourteen years old today.
Outlived himself, according to . . .
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June 29, 2007 01:38 PM EDT --
Summer days, sad surrender, spicy peppermint, leather cup
One of those summer days.
A night’s dream, if only I could dream.
When did I forget how to dream?
Was it some sad . . .
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April 15, 2007 08:03 PM EDT --
to do on a glorious Sunday afternoon in April. I went to bed. I slept for hours under a down quilt while children played in tank tops, neighbors walked their dogs, and the garden tugged at me like the . . .
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April 27, 2007 12:52 PM EDT --
Woke up sad, barely
able to move, smell
of burnt toast and
the ashes of a bad day
already begun - my son
awake, three-thirty in
the morning. Panic
and pacing all night
and I was afraid the house . . .
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April 30, 2007 11:43 AM EDT --
And the forsythia blooms. I hope it is in the right spot this year, gathering all of the sunlight my shady yard has to offer. I've lost three of them. This time I am careful to follow the planting . . .
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April 25, 2007 12:20 AM EDT --
It is the butterfly bushes I mourn
most deeply
and the monarchs that will not come
because of that: the deaths lead
to absence, the guests invited
but the dinner unprepared.
It is the white . . .
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June 18, 2007 11:21 AM EDT --
Ten Free Minutes: Word Game
My philosophy is as follows:
Beg for ten free minutes, and then seize them.
No, do not beg for what is rightfully yours.
Just reach out your hand, . . .
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April 23, 2007 12:59 AM EDT --
Over the past several Sunday evenings, I have been watching Planet Earth on the Discovery Channel. A simply amazing series, much of it revolving around the ebb and flow of nature: spring and fall; night . . .
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May 07, 2007 12:17 PM EDT --
When a child is born, you want only the best for that new life. You look into the fathomless blue eyes and think of days to come. A boy. Bicycles and Little League. Scouts - maybe even Eagle Scout. Girlfriends . . .
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