Day 209

Humidity

When the air is thick
Everything is just a little quieter
Engine whirs muffled
Conversation percussion distant
Footfalls fewer and nearer between
Movements deliberate
Heart rates settled
Breathing slow and steady
Calm pervades.

Day 208

Bliss is...

Sand between my toes
And in my shorts
And down my shirt
And up and down my legsAnd in the bend of my elbow
And in my hair
And in my eyes

Day 207

Demolition of a Tree

One branch
Two branch
Three branch
Floor.
Four branch
Five branch
Six branch
Fence.
Seven branch
Eight branch
Nine branch
Stump.

:)

Day 206

Planning

Make the lists.
Check them off.
Start again.
Do this now.
Do that later.
Make the lists.

Day 205

I'm sure some of you will recognize this exact moment.


Et Tu?

The moment your favorite shoes
turn on you
You whole outlook on life
changes.
In an instant, that dull aching
pain in your sole
Becomes a sharp burning
pain in your soul.

Day 204

Shut it down
Cut it off
Wash them all away.
What troubles
Unsettle you
Are only of today.

Day 203

Make It Last

I can already feel the cold, crisp
winter air blowing on my neck.
The warmth of summer barely a flash in the pan.
The days melting away beneath my feet.
 

Day 202

Like Anna

Unable to be who she was.
Unable to do what she wanted.
Unable to feel what she pleased.
Trapped by everything.
Even her own thoughts.

Day 201

Simplicity

Breathe in the fresh air
Bring back life.

Day 200!!!

200

Two hundred poems in
Two hundred days.
Thousands of words in
Thousands of ways.
Hundreds of thoughts
From out of my head.
Sharing them all
Hoping they're read.

Some poems were silly.
Some were quite sad.
Some of them hopeful.
Some downright mad!
Some poems were stories.
Some in despair.
Some were dismissive.
Some full of care.

Two hundred poems in
Two hundred days.

Thank you for sampling
My word play buffet.

Day 199

Speak To My Poet

Speak to me so my poet understands.
Make it simple.
Make it smart.
Make it mean something.

Speak to me so my poet cries.
Make it sharp.
Make it cut through.
Make it hit a nerve.

Speak to me so my poet trusts.
Make it real.
Make it honest.
Make it lasting.

Speak to me so my poet feels.
Make it strong.
Make it passionate.
Make it beautiful.

Day 198

{this may or may not be considered a poem}


The Art of Driving

You must have complete knowledge and understanding of your vehicle.
You must know where your turn signals are, and how & when to use them.
You must not give up. You will get to your destination eventually.
You must not be afraid to make a move. Go for it.
You must not allow yourself to follow the pack of cars that are perfectly content trapped behind the slowpoke in the middle lane.
You must relax. Put on some tunes and enjoy the relaxing pace. Get to know your highway neighbors.
You must predict what everyone else will do and work around it. Always.
You must be aware of the road around you.
You must always plan an escape route.

Day 197

Red

A red dress billows around her,
Cascading out from her waist.
Waves of rich red satin
Pool at her feet.
The dress is clearly too long,
As she melts into the floor.
Her face is pale and serene.
Her lips are stained scarlet red.
Her eyes are darkened by the mascara
From the night before.
She stares through the window
Speckled with rain.
The street below, empty
Except for a single black car
Pulling away from her.

Day 196

Freshet

What of this wall you've built?
It stands on solid foundation
Fathoms deep.
It rises to the sun and moon
Heavens high.
It completely surrounds your garden
Miles thick.

What of this frozen land I walk upon?
It stretches out in front of me
Horizon far.
It is brittle under my feet
Crystal delicate.
It is slippery and treacherous
Oil slick.

I will travel and I will climb
Until you feel the power of my love
Melting the river
Creating a flood
Bringing down your wall.

Day 195

Silence

They had nothing to say to each other.
It was not the first time.
It will not be the last.

They sat, avoiding each others' eyes.
Both feeling guilty.
Neither was truly innocent.

They each wondered what the other was thinking.
Neither, daring to ask.
Both not making a sound.

They felt the history they had together.
It is what makes them want to leave.
It is what keeps them here.

Day 194

Eh. A short one today. I'm kinda spent.


Breathe in the air so deeply
That it hurts.
Let it fill your lungs until
They want to explode.

Day 193

Well, Picasso went through a "blue period". Guess I'm going through a green one. Here's another military inspired one.


Trauma

He'll never admit it, but
It happened.
He'll never tell you, but
He was there.

That's why his eyes are always on the move,
Scanning for something just beyond you.

The only job he's ever had was to
find and kill the enemy.
Ripped away.

Now he can not even shop for food.
The enemy could be around the corner.
Any corner.
Behind the deli counter.
The other side of the milk cooler.
 
He knows the enemy is here.
He just doesn't know what it is.
He used to.
It was simple then.

Awareness heightened.
Senses raw.
Emotions hidden, tucked away
In a locked box for safe keeping.
(does he even have the key anymore?)

A dropped box, an explosion.
A slammed door, a fired weapon. A loud sneeze, a death scream.

All violent reminders of...
....then.

Day 192

This is another one that I'm pretty sure will be part of something larger. It may or may not become part of Soldier. Even though, the subject matter relates, I'm not sure it's part of the same story, so I'll have to work that all out.  (FYI - LBE stands for load bearing equipment. Sometimes it's called LCE, load carrying equipment.)


All Geared Up

You put on your uniform one leg at a time
One arm at a time
One boot at a time.
Each piece of gear, added one at a time
The belt
The LBE
The canteen
The helmet
The gas mask bag
Flashlight secured
Ear plugs secured
Dog tags tucked away
Weapon slung behind your back.

Prepared.

You hear the firefight beyond the hill
You stand guard
The earth vibrates from the concussion of mortar
You stand guard
You hear the yells and screams of each man falling
You stand guard.

Prepared. Waiting.

Then there's the silence.
The shooting has stopped.
The screaming has stopped.
(but not in your head. that will last forever)
The ground no longer shakes.
You are ready.
Or so you think.

Prepared. Waiting. Calm.

One round fired
Much closer than before.
It's time.
You have trained for this.
You are prepared.
Your weapon is no longer slung.
You check your gear.
All present.
You insert your ear plugs.
(they won't stay in. they never do)
Everything is silent.
You listen to your breathing from the inside
and pray you're not really breathing that hard.
You can feel your heartbeat, now.
It is much faster than you wish.

Prepared. Waiting. Eager.

The order to advanced is signaled.
You begin to move forward
Each footfall percusses throughout your body
(was that mortar?)
Each step amplified internally.
You are underwater
Muted
Muffled
In slow motion
Yet hypersensitive.

Prepared. On edge. Eager.

Day 191

The sun warms my skin
As it awakens my soul.
Savor each moment.

Day 190

And there it is again.
That sign.
The one that tells me to
Do something.
I know what I'm supposed
To do.
I know it needs to
Be done.
And I know it will not
Leave me alone
Until I act.

Day 189

The Words That Never Come

The words I need to say
Are cowering in the corner.
They stare at me
But turn away the moment
I look their way.

The words I need to say
Are crying to themselves.
They wipe away the tears
With the crumpled paper
Of my disregarded emotions.

Day 188

Waiting For You

Find me on the porch swing
killing time
with a good book and a better
glass of wine.
Find me in the backyard
sowing seeds
watering the earth and feeling
very free.
Find me at the circus
watching clowns
taking a moment to take in
what I've found.
Find me on the sofa
in your arms
where I know you'll always keep me
safe from harm.

Day 187

Alright. It's a bit of a cop out.


Damn you Jackie.
And your addictive addiction.
Six seasons in two weeks.
I think I need rehab.

Day 186

Together, we can create
beautiful things,
but when I reach for you,
you run away,
just out of my grasp.

You taunt me with your words,
love, hate,
war, peace,
loss, desire,
patience.

I want you, and
I know you want me
to have you, but still
you stare at me
with your piercing eyes,
beckoning me,
but keeping me at arm's length.

Come to me.
Sit beside me.
Let me caress and cajole you,
coax you to create the
world only we can make.

Day 185

Nothing.
I got nothing
No thoughts to share
No emotions to expel
No demons to release
I got nothing
Nothing.

Day 184

I wish someone told me it was OK
to be less than
to be more than
to be the same as
everyone else
When I was young.

I wish someone told me it was OK
to have braces
to have frizzy hair
to be shy
like I had
When I was young.

I wish someone told me I'd be OK
with my insecurities
with my quirkiness
with my fears
like I am today
When I was young.

Day 183

An apple
sits in a bowl.
Eat it.
A swing
hangs from a tree.
Push it.

Day 182

Remember When...

No levee can stop the flood
of memory
once it begins to rise.

The calm of time passed, threatened.

No dune can withstand the waves
of experience
As they crash against the shore.

Grains of acceptance, washed away.