On some street,
To meet someone, I hurry and quicken my late steps.
People I pass by, catching my eye by chance—
They walk along, talking as if they only exist in their own world.
The moment our eyes meet by pure coincidence,
They hesitate, as if about to say something, then simply pass me by.
Then, I look around.
The older generation, still walking with urgent, hurried strides.
In contrast, the youth, walking along with such leisure.
What kind of hopes do they cherish within their lives?
I begin to walk once more.
Someone bumps into me in the crowd,
Venting an aimless anger at me before rushing off into the distance.
Where on earth are they all walking toward?
Today, again, caught by the digital clock shining in front of that store,
I keep running toward my destination.
When telomeres tangle and instructions engrave
They bare new faces and a precious look to save
The seeds we've sown have bloomed, they whisper deep
And find the blessed way to get your love for them to seep
I look to my creators, searching for steady, calloused hands
Though it is time to bear my fruit and search for fertile lands
Now we glance down at my stomach, those walls of steel
For our sweet beginning progeny, we can only feel
You lend me cells, I'll string them together grandly
Give me love and chivalry, I'll gift you a family
she could never decide on a familiar, little McLizzen.
you are a witch! She was chastised by her mother.
Choose a bat, owl, cat, something, said her brother.
He was a wizard and never had trouble making a decision.
Little McLizzen went out to the park to ponder.
She heard a teeny tiny teensy itsy bitsy purr.
Guess who came down and sat after a tiny wander?
She did not have to choose, the kitty chose her.
Today I measured, chopped and baked
And all from scratch, with nothing faked,
From old familiar recipes
I know, to varying degrees.
The matzoh balls I shaped, as well,
(The soup, however, made by Mel*)
And last, charoses** was prepared
With not one nut or apple spared.
The kitchen’s not my natural spot,
But on the holidays, I’ve got
The need to potchke*** so I feel
Connected to this ancient meal.
My husband asked me why I fuss,
A question worthy to discuss,
Yet all that I can say, for me,
Is this is how it has to be.
For even if nobody cared
About these dishes I have shared,
I’ll keep traditions up, unbowed
And know my grandmas would be proud.
*my husband **a dish for the Passover meal
***fiddling or messing around, especially regarding cooking
she does not have a cat, a bat or an owl I was told
What does she have? Is she young or quite old?
We want to surprise you, said my cousins that day
A few minutes later I spied an alligator coming my way
On that back of that gator was a lady wearing a pointed hat.
That’s her isn’t it, I said, feeling delighted, glad it was not a cat.
For I am terrified of cats, one bit me when I was very young.
Petting an alligator might be insanely fun.
Familiar faces by heart sought,
a state of delusion,
for we are not still as we ought,
bound to mind’s confusion.
We know when heart has thawed,
that each form’s breathed by God,
knowing that leaves us awed.
Ego retraces ~
Familiar faces
Mable Bee the magnificent invited us to her house for a spell
I am going to turn my familiar into a liberty bell.
Allasha allushia alligawee and quick
She swizzled her wand with a kind of a flick
Her black cat was still a cat, but purple you see
She pretended it was her plan all along, Mable Bee
The rest of us remembered she had failed spells 101 at school
But we kept our voices silent, for that is the unwritten witch rule.
I hold the globe in my hands
and the snow begins its slow circle--
tiny flakes drifting the way old memories do.
Inside, a small street lies quiet,
covered in its soft winter hush.
Mornings from when I was little come back to me.
Cocoa on my lips.
Mittens too big, falling off my hands.
Laughter spilling out, loud and messy.
The room full of noise, full of light,
and for a second, nothing else existed.
The world inside spins again.
Roofs blur, trees disappear in white.
When the last flakes settle,
the town is still.
Quiet.
Familiar.
The same place my heart never forgets.
Mystic
~ 8th Place ~
SNOWGLOBE MEMORIES
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose
Contest Judged: 12/5/2025 6:18:00 PM
written_12032025_DMK
A tapping off in the distance
some symbiotic rhythm on a steel guitar,
some somber, sullen melancholic acoustic roots,
borderline tears, salted from past memories,
crazy longing, aching for your touch,
one more time, warming the heart and soul;
classic, vintage vibes, returning thoughts
breathing of a time forgotten, lost to passages
of walk aways in hurt and pain,
call out my name, sing the soul filled blues song
one lonesome cry echoing, twisting, turning, reeling
circling back to what was
in a familiar love gone wrong.
footle
with a
twiddle
is this
poem
conjured
with ease
is there
any
reason
why we
should not
do as
we please
we weave
magic
as pure
bliss beats
which but
mirror
heartbeats
don’t think
just feel
our love
as heart’s
vibrant
refrain
repeats
Like that one familiar friend -
Hope knows what I'm feeling
Before I've said anything
And gladly walks behind.
She has peace in her eyes
And keeps her lips silent;
Words are irrelevant
But hearing might suffice.
I keep planting gardens in my wounds,
wondering why everything tastes like rust.
Maybe I don’t want to heal—
maybe I just want prettier scars.
Some nights, I mistake my reflection
for something I’m supposed to save.
It’s not love.
It’s recognition.
I keep circling the fire
because I built it.
I don’t miss the pain—
I miss having something to blame.
I never wanted happiness.
I wanted familiar.
And familiar feels like bleeding
in places no one looks.
Healing scares me.
Who am I without the ache?
So I named my bruises
just to feel less alone
Some days are good
some days are bad
some may be OK
while the rest could be
the very best you ever had
tho' there are those
who go
with what they know
always stay the same
consistency may be the key
but I prefer to up my game
some hands you win
some hands you lose
sometimes you break even
then there's when you have to pay your dues
but when the peculiar becomes the familiar
on the slow road to nowhere
the trick is knowing when to call
rearrange the chips
see where they all fall
it's time to make a change
Your smile beckons my heart
To come
As soothing rays of the sun
Nurturing famished hearts with warmth
As keys to the essence of your soul
Unlocking golden secrets yet untold
As stirrings of a gentle but persistent wind
Generously caressing both lovers and friends
As welcoming as a long-lived tree
A familiar yet majestic thing of beauty
Your smile beckons my heart
To come
In the middle of the woods I sit
Becoming lost
The world for me no longer a hit
Pure Peace at no cost
Watching the gentle water flow
Completely still
I am happily hiding from the everyday show
On cool, quiet hill
A smile of soft joy creeps up on me
With Happy Thoughts of You
A familiar white dove peeps in the form of She
Totally alleviating my sudden feelings of blue
'It's Alright, My Dear Son
Mom Will AllWays Be Here
Put Your Right Hand To Your Heart
And I Will Heal You With The Warmth Of My Love
You Will Never Have To Worry
You Will Never Have To Be Afraid
For I Will ForEver Love You Till The Pain Goes Completely Away'
My tears now flow as the familiar white dove waves goodbye
I wave back with a now normal sadness as she flies back into the skies so high
Reality returns but the smile of soft joy does remain
I turn to slowly walk back towards reality....calmer and much more sane
Thank you, oh familiar white dove, for once again diffusing the bomb
Sweet Memories In Pink And Green Files Will AllWays Sweetly Saturate This Special Day......HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY, DEAR SWEET MOM.....
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