Each night after the evening meal
there was never a discussion
as to who would wash the dishes
and who would do the drying up.
My mother was the washer,
my sister and I did the drying up.
Hot steam would rise from the sink
before plates were plunged
deep in foam and scrubbed
with a brush - we would wait,
tea towel in hand to pounce
on the first plates to come out,
rinsed and white -
dishes were easier to dry
than heavy pots
and fiddly knives and forks.
It was a time for talk, for laughs
and sometimes snuffled back tears -
everyday life lived within the space
of our touching elbows.
I can still feel the tea towel
in my hand wet and warm
with those blessed memories.
Seventy years on, I bend down
and load the racks of a dishwasher
with soiled tableware from
the evening meal. Its quiet whirr
will fill the winter silence
and play a soulless ditty when
the washing and drying up
is done.
This line, stretched high and proud,
No rags to hinder, no need for a shroud—
Let’s shake off the past, let sunlight shine.
So vibrant, where colors play,
With dreams that flutter, they dry and sway.
Though fleeting, these moments are divine.
Speak of warmth, not despair,
Let kindness hang in the open air.
Through the breeze, our hopes take flight,
With every whisper, let spirits rise,
In the dance of day, truth never dies.
For joy and peace are our lifeline.
So gather ‘round, let laughter start,
In this tapestry, we each play a part.
Together, we craft a design,
A world where hope intertwines,
Where every soul can redefine,
A future bold, where we align.
Hairy brush dips in colours,
Touches the surface of smooth old wall
Sets and dries with embrace of sun
Bricks change colour, like from dusk to dawn
lake-born brown wild rice
dried flat by hot hardwood flame ~
canoe rests onshore
(October Full Moon – Dakota)
so shy am I yet
I don't hide my love the pains
of life do not come
~
from above my tears
yet so do flow down my eyes
you see the greatest
~
greatest of these mine
drying eyes do breathe abundant life
cry for you I love
~
Instilled rain falls on my
face my eyes tear ducts absorb
solace viewed my love
Drying tears
9/13/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2023
mouth drained mind minced heart drained soul parched least last drops --- yearn for grace from heaven
Drying winds, partly cloudy sky
No rain coming, here the earth cracks
Hurricane floods in places why?
Drying winds, partly cloudy sky
Clouds are a farce, only amplify
Needed moisture, which we now lack
Drying winds, partly cloudy sky
No rain coming, here the earth cracks
The ivory hue of the dove-colored rain- cloud as it hovers; the opaque glitter of the sunlight as the rain-drops are shaken off of leaves after the rainfall.
The sunlight emerging as storm-clouds glissade into the heavens the tint of light-blue Robin eggs. A moon bow alit on a body of water, immaculate…
A snowy Egret's spread wings in a summer afternoon
as they lift- they are an elegant white wedding-her veil, train…
Other Hungry things
David J Walker
There is a certain living
In the drying things of
The garden
That was, just yesterday
Green
There is a certain living
In the dying things
Lying on the prairie
that were, just yesterday
Seen
Living and Running
There is a certain giving
In the taking of life from
All other living things
Planted on the
Earth
Where each birth
is celebrated
By other hungry things
orphan tadpoles plead
home returning foreign birds
to come back so soon
07 October 2021
While their tears have been drying,
Mothers to children are lullabying;
World of despair,
Everywhere,
And Trump is lying and denying.
Jim Horn
California is Drying
California is drying up they say
this drought
only needs another year before
California
is a sun dried tomato
California
is cracked clay of a dry river bed
California
is like the white salty residue my sweat leaves
when i am dehydrated
riding my bike
through the soul sucking heat
California has 1 year of water left
and people still stand in the heat
and wastewater
on their greedy green grass lawns
you cannot eat grass
California known for farming
citrus fruits and
endless fields of grapes for wine
avocados and almonds
hydroponic pot plants and hops for craft beer
If you drive through
Central Californian farms
All the trees are dead
all the people are gone
all the dust is kicked up
all of the lush farmland
is now a desert
and our government sucks us dry
and we suck once fertile California dry
the once proud Golden State
falls apart in my hands like a petrified fossil.
The air was fresh and clean after the rain,
And so I sat and wrote to you, my one,
For back across the years and days there came
The thoughts of when we were to each as one.
My heart does strain and ache to tell you this,
That all that I can give to you is love
And so to you I send with love a kiss
To shine on you like sunshine from above.
Again I write to you these words, a poem,
With words of love, with truth from deep my mind
To bring us closer to our souls, a home
For both of us, ourselves and love to fond.
It's you I love and this, my love, is true,
I wish again my heart to be with you.
Wednesday evening
5:46 P.M.
September 16, 2015
Kansas City, MO
Stephen Becker pen name Brian Stoaks
"Who's Drying Mine"
Wrestling with the thoughts of abandonment
Fighting to believe that rivers do run
Wondering why this heart still feels like a stepping stone
Don't go without me, please take my hand
When does my sunshine light my path towards tomorrow
Shall I ever find my desire in the city of loneliness
Does earthquakes that shake beds ever have my feet dangling off
Let me be the lover causing the toes to curl
With another birthday looming I'm only reminded that my future is empty
Another year where my life is filled with hollow walls of silence
No secretes to whisper to the ears beside me
No reason to smile feeling empty inside
Without friends to remind me that I breathe to dry their tears
I smile to show them why they to have a reason to grow old
So I'm living their life for them as they die inside as well
So as I'm drying their eyes from their pain, who's drying mine
( DRYING YOUR TEARS )
Tear drops fall from your blue eyes
and my heart stops a beat at their sight.
I pull you close to me,
try to take the pain from you,
make it my own.
My cheek lays against yours
and your tears burn my face
as I whisper,
"Darling, it will be all right."
My tears blend with your own,
your pain now mine,
and our tears become one
as they fall in rivers on the sheets.
I dry your tears with kisses,
soft upon your face,
shelter you from pain
in the recesses of my love.
Our bed becomes a chalice
and we drink in each others sorrow,
finding salvation in each other's arms;
pain washed away giving rise to passion
'till we forget there ever were tears.
(c) Jasmine Paul 11-15-2014
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