The function of a human hand?
Writing a message, making a bed,
Opening a jar, dialing a phone,
Putting on pantyhose,
Touching the face of a child,
Or a lover.
And in its absence?
Yawning space and phantom pain,
And an oddly-shaped bandage
At the end of Angie’s arm.
PFC Hernandez, home in El Paso,
Watches her family watching her,
Writing awkwardly with her left hand,
Brushing her black wavy hair,
Watching Dr. Phil
Wearing an old gray-green T-shirt
Bearing the faded words
“Proud to be a Marine.”
Gasping and choking,
She wakes from thick, dusty dreams
Of shimmering, endless sand,
Echoing hollow with hatred,
And the feared but half expected
Roar of fiery amber heat,
Breaking the angry stillness,
Searing through the night
And Angela’s right hand.
If I cry
It must be the memory
Of a skirt unlifted by a gust
To still a boy's misery
And wipe my eyes dry
For the way time sears
Us like flowers
And reaped my mother
Before I was ready to let her go.
If I cry
I cry for days she sheltered me
From a child's web of fallacy
And put her spittle on my knee
Where bruised flesh
Was a boy's view of tragedy.
I would press my face
Against her dress
And feared no goliath
If I cry
I cry for evenings on the porch
When she gathered us
Our feet white with blowing dust
And hunger like a miner
We had so little to eat some days
But she with prayers picked fruits
Of heaven's mercy
And we thankful ate together
And heard her ancient anecdotes
Of ancestors' exploits that floats
Still upon a manhood sky.
If I cry
I cry that mothers' days are meaningless
When the sight of flowers
Are frail veils upon a grave
And the customized Christmas cards
Will not sparkle her eyes
Just before the kiss upon my cheek
Honoring me for faithfulness
And knowing her love measures more
More than a day
More than the years that sums earth's decay.
If I cry
I cry for the love of my mother
For the woman and life giver
For God to bring
Order to this unruly thing
That spoons our purpose to a cup
Before the dusk with each sup
Of time, diminishing us
I cry for faith to hold my trust
Against the agony of loss
Death is a demonic disgust
That makes me long
To substitute all tears for angels song.
If I cry
Preserved my hope with brine of eye
To live again
Without death or pain
And run with my mother
Through the clapping ovation of summer rain.
Wondrous of many blessings.
Smiling never a frown.
My prayers, Lord, are suddenly being ignored.
I've taken a tumble of fallen down
Lord, my life was plain and simple
How did it come to this.
Lord, now I carry a burden so deep
A torn up life not easy to fix
Hard to get my prayers before I sleep
Bleeding only internally!
Feeling very minutely!
God, have you deserted me, or is it me who deserted you?
God, my Lord, my savior, how could you abandon me?
Must I drown in my own sorrow.
Must I wake up like this today and tomorrow.
Why have you left me, or is it me who left you?
God, I need you like never before.
When I wake up,
When I head out the door.
Tormented in a mood ring of stock
Heavily my tears hit upon the floor.
God, do you not feel me, or is it me who no longer feel you?
God, what is your plan for me?
What things did I not see?
I asked for you to forgive me in my ways of sin.
Why do you let him provoke me?
Lord, I forbid for him to win.
Relieve me from his gutless pain.
God, do you not believe me, or is it me who no longer believe in you?
God, do you not hear my call
My pitiful excuses make me weak and small
In your eyes I no longer feel tall
I remain cursed in every single fall
Lord, only you can break this wall
Do you not see me on my knees
Must I beg and crawl?
I am at your mercy, crying out with grief
Open the path to the lighted hall
O' Lord, the day you judge me before your throne
Please tell me it was a lesson for me to stand up on my own
God for now I will end this talk
With the dignity to never look back
And ask if you were there on my endless journey of a relentless walk?
He is above us in the clouds
run through the fields and speak of thee
He will grow roses
I will be the stem of the roses
for I shall never leave your soil
You will be the tree I grow beneath
and he will be our rain.
The warrior lays her weary head,
With heavy heart she cannot bear,
Burning tears stream down her face,
As whispered memories touch the ear.
Her armour tarnished by remorse,
Her battle-cry a wimpered row,
Her wounds, of which bleed solitude,
Will never know forgiveness now.
The song began two score ago,
When two came knocking at her door,
In need of refuge from the world,
Of that, and love, and little more.
Forced to fight for every smile,
Her only solace found in song,
She longed for love to rescue her,
And plant her where she could belong.
Jealous tongues are seldom kind,
Self-seeking hearts know nought of love,
The caged canary only sings,
When coaxed to praise from up above.
For the steely spine that now I own,
Forever shall I grateful be,
A gift from her, and from her own.
Courage mounted inwardly.
I'll not forget how I have loved thee,
And youthful memories I will prize,
Til on the shore of His forgiveness,
Whereto now, we both shall rise.
Sometimes I look around me
and I see an empty space
where you might be playing
a sweet smile on your face
You might be calling out to me
asking me to play
and I would be there with you
and you would fill my day
At bedtime I would read to you
then before I tucked you in
I would open up my arms
and you would climb right in
I would kiss your baby cheek
and tell you "you're my love"
then I'd hold you close to me
and thank the Lord above...
But when I look around again
there's just an empty space
no toys scattered on the floor
no shinning little face
I'll never hear you call my name
or watch you as you grow
but you will always be with me
no matter where I go
I know there is a heaven
and I know that you are there
and you have a better life
than I could give you here
until I take my final breath
I will always pray
that through God's most precious gift
I'll be with you someday
Then I will take you in my arms
and hold you close to me
your laughter will ring in my ears
your smiling face I'll see
we will be together
my precious baby boy
and then the only tears I'll cry
will be ones of joy
I hope that you can hear me
I have so much to say
but I never had the chance
since you left me that day
for now I want to tell you
that I love you so
and I am so very sorry
that you had to go
If you could have stayed with me
my dream would have come true
and I know I would have done
anything for you
and even though you went away
and we must be apart
I know you will always live
forever in my heart
Our lives produce such struggles
to which we must rise!
And often we find places
that from which we would run and hide.
But just remember that Your choice
will bring the happiness you seek...
Just Be the Brave one you wish
The one you still want to be.
For I am here to catch you,
to help and see you through,
within your dreams or trials of life;
whether on mountain or cliff
whichever weso choose to climb.
Remember this as you feel you are sinking.
or slipping from the walls you've been clinging.
The climb may tire the muscles
as we reach for the top,
and make us weaker in our strength
while we try to here hang on.
But if we just let go,
and trust the our heart to know what's right
we will never be led to far away;
Though even trodding in the night.
And do not fear the way back down!
For how many birds fly,
when still nested on the Ground.
And if, by chance,
your wings you fail to find...
From your fall I'll catch you,
and lead you on through time.
For how many learn to open there wings
whilst the mud stayed fixated about their feet.
The Winds of the sky need your wings to catch,
to fly you to the heavens
where the angels await you to meet,
and lead you to that better place.
A place we can not even dream.
So with the lightest breeze
they will teach us how to soar...
and lift us from our agony and woe.
Thus ending the anguish
as your wings fill there up.
to fly with them forever more.
The Ground is not safe nor is the air,
but what life would we live
if we never did dare.
Where angels fear
and devils are faint...
If Love durst not
then forever must then wait.
I remember the story
of two who fell in love...
His name became his enemy,
and He o'er her family
She did make that choice.
I would be that Romeo,
say you my Juliet...
And with you in my arms
I would die once more again.
With you I would cast off the sins,
an choose to hold you in the end.
When together,two become one,
Star crossed lovers
can find the peace of each others arms.
when as one we will fly,
Into that bitterless sky.
The day’s beginning is a special gift.
Given over a life’s eternity,
One can’t help but feel the daily change.
How often we stay into the evening. An attempt to hold
Onto the feelings of joy and elation,
That made our day so emphatically special.
Are not the future possibilities also special?
That we dream of yet other gifts,
gifts of such thought, that might also inspire elation
From giver and receiver for all eternity.
Constantly close to both, holding,
As if to say, “Don’t Ever Change.”
Does growth not require change?
Should not that change be also special?
Only if you have forgotten about holding,
The longing embrace of previous gifts,
One that requires attention for all eternity,
fueling existential feelings of elation.
Even when intentionally forgotten, holding
On to the recipient, despite elation.
At one point, this internal agony was a gift.
What could ever make this change?
This gift that could never be more special.
Now it has changed for eternity.
The re-direct of energy through eternity,
The loss of love’s forever embrace.
Love, making pain beautifully special.
Will there ever be elation?
Maybe if we only change
The way we exchange special gifts.
Our future’s eternity might fill with elation
From holding the exchange
Of something special,
… the mere appreciation of a gift..
To be called ..
~ Grandma is a Honor ~
I have been blessed with 4 Grandchildren
~ one lays in Heaven " Kaleb " He is God's Angel ~
~ His twin brother he will always watch over , and be in his soul~
For he loved his Brother so much in the womb ,
he chose Heaven which gave life to his twin
~ I feel his spirit when I see the other Grandson ~
Time passed another gift to see
we are " Mickes" and Loved
Our Dad held the title in Baseball
~ that's how we roll ~
those children are Grandmas hero's
The Irish they love big and Family is everything
The brothers will protect the beautiful sister
~ as many lads will be calling ~
Every time my Grandson hits a home run
There will be a Angel watching proudly in the stand
It will be as if the Angel lifted him when he runs
~no one runs faster then my Grandson~
either baseball or Art ~ you shall find your gift given
These children have been blessed~
~ a beauty to hard to describe
If you think not ~~ Take a look at the Mom
That girl can stop Traffic
after raising three and still~
"Inspired by the gift and loss of Grandchildren "
May our precious " Kaleb " softly rest where Angels only Dwell
On the edge
of the evacuation zone
Miyuki holds her daughter
tip-toeing in pink sneakers
her small hands fragile
to the man with the beeping wand
They were outside in the karesansui
washing and raking
rocks, when the school
then pressed into silence
voices rising inside
So now they wait with strangers
in ordered lines of sorrow
for bread and drinking water
as an adolescent, eyes downcast
sees the small pink laces and
offers up his only ration
of precious onigiri
Hooded and white masked they walk
three days and bed-less nights toward
Ishinomaki by the ocean
to family, friends, and home forever
The landscape jumbles unfamiliar
with plastic wreckage
detritus flooded in a field
where Japonica once grew
while moon-suited men
and women gather
albums for the living
And after sunset Miyuki moves
her little girl away
from a white-taped blue-bagged
toward the humming black-robed Monk, his
prayers for light
and workers burned
exposed to radiation ten
thousand times too high
And in the shadows one old man kneels
beside a fetid pool and scoops
rice to carry back to neighbours
moved to higher ground, un-opens
one last bottled spirit
bows his head and offers
Miyuki and her first and only
everything he has
At last they reach the shelter’s glow
beneath the starless robe of night
not used to wearing
Miyuki helps her daughter fold
sheets of painful news into
an origami box to hold
her last and only pair
And in the morning as they face
the stretch of road for home
to unknown love and losses there
they turn and gaze toward the east
spring’s warming breeze
to rise with brilliant red once more
new light of wondrous dawn
'karesansui' is a Japanese rock garden or 'dry landscape'. Rocks are often washed.
'onigiri' is the emergency rice being distributed to survivors in Japan.
'Japonica' is a type of (short-grained) Japanese rice.
for Debbie Guzzie's contest, 'Tribute to Japan'