oh good, the lights are on, the McHenry family cheered
they loved visiting Auntie Mable
As they approached the door she came out wearing a coat
Oh, dear, she told them. I have concert tickets. I was just leaving.
They left, disappointed because she baked the best cookies.
Ten minutes later old Mister Groggins showed up
noting the lights were on.
Good, he thought, because Mable was his favorite listener.
As he was about to knock the door opened.
Mable said “Come in, come in, I was just coming home from the store.”
Mable keeps her coat next to the front door on a hook.
Depending upon who knocks,, she can say she is either coming or going.
November drizzle falling on my face, your gentle smooth humidity nearly touch my hair.
November rain, you are much harder but good to have you, even when you make me feel sad.
November rain you came to stay for touching the dark face of my emptiness.
Empty streets, no children playing in the garden, lights are on early, watching for the lights to be off soon for dinner.
Bed is ready to dream about the next month, when the squirrels sleep and we will be up surrounded by lights.
November rain, I'm glad to receive you every year,
with your tears and my tears, we will make enough rain to keep the harvest safe.
November rain, we just buy un umbrella to let you come down and dance for the next year to come again.
I don't wanna be
a wannabe no more
waiting for opportunity
to come a'knocking
on my open door
and the day she does
tho' the lights are on
there's no one home
as I'll probably be
out to lunch
knowing me
so I wanna see
'Been there, done that!'
on my resumé because
I'm oh-so tired
of being a never-was
See me in the distant corner.
Imagine a dark room.
I’m in the fetal position.
I’m curled up in a ball.
Though, the lights are on…
You see…my legs a drag,
I boiled my hand, I strained
my hip. I’ll take one last stand.
I put on pajamas.
Before bed.
The curse and everything that goes with it.
Something happened.
I think I dropped my meds on the floor.
It was dark, and the lights were spinning, but there were no lights.
I could sleep on the couch.
They never used to let me.
I think the couch wants to kill me.
The couch laughs.
I live alone.
Before bed.
I remind myself.
Before bed.
I live alone.
I get emotional at this time of night.
Maybe a couple pills scurried away.
I have to go to bed.
Some of the lights are on.
I don’t know.
Some of the lights…
I get up and turn them off again.
On Halloween.
There are ghosts to be seen.
And a skeleton.
Candy disappearing by the ton.
Porch lights are on.
Costumes we don.
During this holiday.
I don’t mind having to pay.
For candy that spreads delight.
Or a costume that doesn’t fit right.
At the end of the night, I sit in my room.
My sister walks in, wearing a witch costume.
There’s time for the party tonight…
But I’d rather sit by the moonlight.
I don’t want to turn into a werewolf.
I don’t want to be a haunted doll, all by myself.
This Halloween night.
I give my sister the last candy bite.
Thanksgiving is the next holiday.
But why can’t Halloween be a thankful day?
With so much candy to eat.
And sisterly love that can’t be beat.
Ms. Shelly began to write.
Scratched it out.
Began again.
The lights are on, but no one is home.
Scribble Scribble
His dendrite field is nonexistent.
Scratch. Scratch.
She kept writing and scratching
What could she write on this child’s report card?
Singing in shed furthest corner of yard; lights are on in room.
Smoking in shack furthest back from house, mind is lit and with it.
Nobody to witness me, overhear anything, nor complain.
The walls are bare
The floors are free of debris
The laundry is put away
The beds are perfectly quaffed
...ready for habitation
Clothes are scattered 'round
Dirty dishes in the sink
Dusty trophies on the shelf
Toys line the hallway
...ready for battle ahead
The doors are locked
The lights are on
The water runs at will
The internet entertains
...ready for usage
The children have gathered
The adults are adulting
The tension pulls at choice
The cables are strong and firm
...ready for communication
The years pass quickly
The aged wonder in pain
The children run to repair
The earth groans under the weight
...ready for transition
RESTORATION REVEALS
The ORDERED HOUSE
Written by Trudy Schrader on 12-19-2022
I'm scared to sleep, 'cause I'll slowly creep
Deeper & deeper into a frightening world
Where Alice is Malice & Wonderland is Underland
Where your nightmares come disgustingly alive
They'll claw your skin & tangle your hair
They'll scream & chase - they'll push & race
Just to have a reason to be in your face
The disgrace you'll feel, when it becomes real
A sizzling slap in your head
The whiff of a fiery dragon's breath
There's no more solace you have left
Driftin' & dancin' - Honeymoon romancin'
A reflection of what you want to complete
A ghostly white face in the sheets
All the lights are on, but I still fall asleep
Falling, crashing, & tumbling down underneath
Understand you're falling & twisting to Underland
Petty-ness, politics, posh & peculier to me
A little girl thrashed in bloody sheets
Chasing a Cheshire Cat through the tangled trees
It's the time of the year
Time for christmas cheer!
Friends and family are coming
To celebrate christmas together.
The smell of the sweets, traditional sweets
And; the bright lights are on the streets.
Snow is all around,
Much to the children's joy that surrounds!
Everything is decorated
O how beautiful is the Christmas tree!
O how perfect is the creche!
Everybody's singing carols to express
Thy Christmas Spirit!
Bicycle bicycle where are you going
Bicycle bicycle what are you knowing
Bicycle bicycle where are you flowing
Thoughts are of you drifting though lands of the dead,
The horizon is cluttered with a humanities dread.
The castings form a gluttonous life.
Bicycle bicycle where are going,
What have you done?
With all that you are knowing,
All that has begun.
All in the drift of knowing,
What are you sowing?
Bicycle, bicycle why are you scared.
Have you gone where you not dare?
What are your thoughts and why are you showing
Signs of a mind lost at sea.
Why are you casting rocks deep into the seam?
The lights are on but no one is home,
Vacant rooms are showing hollow
thoughts are knowing, oh!
Bicycle, bicycle where are you going not known
But knowing what is around the bend.
Headlong in the cloud bust overhead
And headlights are casting
shadows off the dead, oh why?
Bicycle, bicycle why are you going,
This late past the hours of the dread,
Bicycle, bicycle where are you going
Not knowing the sacred hours of the dead…
The ground is frozen, lights are on,
white frost on trees, cool early morn,
Robins on hunt for garden worms,
evenings by fire, singing psalms,
when Reindeers bring Santa on tow,
happiness, expectations grow!
Written 11/December/21
Bite Size poetry contest (29)
Line Gauthier sponsored
8 syllables each line
Cathy’s Lament
I shop because I have to
I bake because it's tradition
I wrap the presents
Put up the lights
And the stress of it all
Keeps me up every night.
I clean the house till it sparkles and shines
Cook for days and buy plenty of wine
Shop for a tree making sure that it's right
And the stress of it all keeps me up every night.
The cards are all sent did I forget anyone
The tree is up the ornaments hung
The lights are on but they aren’t very bright
And the stress of it all keeps me up every night.
The stockings need hanging the door needs a wreath
The cats’ on the counter the dogs’ underneath
The gifts have been wrapped and are hid out of sight
And the stress of it all keeps me up every night.
The day finally comes we all gather here
The presents are opened all in good cheer
The food has been eaten the wine didn’t last
We fondly remember our Christmases past
The children all napping their eyes closed tight
And the stress of it all will be gone by tonight
Cathy Strackbein
12/17/14
The rugs in the living room
Are thin in places, and
The dog has scratched
The painted floors.
The end tables are crowded
With family pictures
Instead of knickknacks
Some of the bath towels
Have slightly raveled edges,
And a washcloth is left in the tub.
There are books and newspapers
On the coffee table and
Hardly a place for a coffee cup.
But the house smells of
Fresh baked bread or cookies,
The lights are on, and
The welcome mat is out\.
Friends feel free to just drop by.
It may not be fancy, but
It’s a house that’s happy
And comfortably “broken in”.
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