Long Growing Poems
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She was the sparkle at the heart of it
The love we all shared
I don’t remember a day that passed by,
without her friendly smile or wink of her eye.
We lost Hildie in the spring of last year
And now we find, we are losing the very thing she held so dear
Our beloved IND, The Institue of Norte Dame
Our Grand Lady the Oldest Girls Prep school in the Country is closing its doors one last time at the end of this term.
She has stood vigilant for 173 years, and educated us all.
A testament to our City, our State and our Great Nation.
As the bombs of the Civil War fell in the background and reverberated through her halls, her classes went on for the students whom she loved so well.
IND Graduates include Nancy Pelosi, the First Woman Speaker of the House AND Current Speaker of the House.
The Former Senator, Barbara Mikulski from the State of Maryland,
My Mothers cousin Adele Wilzack former Secretary of Health for the State of Maryland .
From the very first day, Hildie was there at the door
With a friendly hello and a smile that was warm.
If you needed new pencils or something more
Sister Hildie was there, she ran the bookstore.
She watched as we grew a silent witness to all that we learned
Our Pin days, Ring Days, Proms, Plays and the like
Graduation with long stemmed red roses and we were all dressed in white.
She was our official cheer squad at basketball games, Hildie was there
She knew EVERYONES NAMES
She even sold pretzels during our lunch breaks.
If you came early or stayed a bit late and needed some help
Hildie was there and didn’t hesitate.
To our friend and confidant,
I pray for her and for US ALL.
Our loss is profound.
It’s difficult to think,
She won’t be around.
I pray for our Students, Alumni, Teachers, Parents, Families and Friends
Of our Grand Lady, IND
Hildie loved us all so very much.
Kimberly Sikorski
Class of 1983
And this bit added to be part of the contest ....
Dorothea,
Dorothea may mean “ Gift from God,“
But Heaven broke the mold when they created Sister Hildie
Written May 17, 2020
For Poem about a Nun
Screaming Guillotines
I.
I sit on the wide veranda of this house called America,
And I can see the Beast Boys coming our jungled way,
Coming like wild torrents of lapping flames over the astonished landscape,
Coming with black eyes squinting and staring for a feast of blood.
I sit trembling with mouth wide open, waiting for the whistling hearses to come,
And the inevitable silent tap upon my evading shoulder.
And far far away into the green enveloping expanse,
Of consuming trees and obliterating American skies,
I can hear the screaming guillotines serenading the ghost dancers.
I can see the whistling hearses bringing in the crimson nightmares.
II.
Time to take my knife again and lacerate the flesh of this dead thing,
This once-breathing creature that felt nothing but the slash of profit.
Time to spit out the long thin hairs entwined around my teeth.
Time to wonder whose hair this belongs to, as I pull out the long strands slowly,
Like pulling out long segmented worms from beneath the dirt of a rock.
“Ah, do you know the time? Is your sister coming by today?
She knows my name, and she can hear the screaming guillotines when they drop.
Will she spend some time with me here on my soft bumpy sofa?
Will she at last listen, at last hear, my remonstrances of lost love,
As we devour this dead, unbreathing thing,
Inside this salty steaming stew?"
III.
The Profit Boys are back in town,
And Jess and Jim are drunk on whiskey.
John Jupiter and his new bride, Isabel,
Are eating chicken and dumplings without a frown.
His new suit, in whisky-laden tatters, is
Hanging propped on a sweat-stained hall tree.
“Lordy those two are riling me; but shucks, it’s my wedding day!”
Then into town rides the Domino Kid from Abilene;
He’s looking to escape the screaming guillotines at Lansing.
John Jupiter and Isabel drink a toast to the future,
Their happy hearts pounding with hopeful glee;
Then he bashfully presents a wedding ring to his dimpled bride,
And kisses her sweetly under the tall Dragon tree.
But now, inside their barn, with soft lamplight aglowing,
Amidst the rambling rawhide, and a cracked cowbell,
Jess and Jim Profit set fire to the hayloft, a fire that is still growing;
The Domino Kid lies asleep, eternally dreaming of Isabel.
A day for me; strong and weird through blue
Is a day for nice atmospheric bliss to glue
Wishes, prayers and testimonies together
While pronouncing an awesome glowing weather
You can attest the touches of nature that bless today
Its opening prayer no doubt is for me in all its say
And as the trees continue to say AMEN, angels sing...
And enrich the fate of freewill that glorify my KING
My heart rejoice within me, oh buddy of young love
My lips pray of my wishes to be truly mine to live
As I age off hell with hope, grace and luck
Let nothing come what may have prayers suck
Be happy now and forever as always Wems
With God for you, future is a thing designs in poems
Be glad you've got to count this day healthily
In wisdom that path thanksgiving the route stealthily
Be joyous for love "J" shares is real
Mind not to give this head a big deal
May all good promises come to pass on time
To making me enjoy youthful ace through its prime
Glow on... wishes; stay calm to it
Lay all glee on the chill; breed for its hit
Happy birthday to Wems; a darling
Live long and dont be film stalling...
Whenever I think of the little boy
Playing cops and robbers, putting bad guys away;
Oh, those clouds in the sky were never as high
As the ones in my dreams, the times that it seemed
I could fly.
Whenever I think of that first date;
Conversations rehearsed, got a full tank of gas;
Don't forget the fresh flowers, talk nice to her mother
And boy, don't be late, or she may want to date
Some other.
I wonder sometimes if I'll ever grow old,
If I will, I only wonder when;
But I wonder who I would be now
If it weren't for who I was back then...
Whenever I think of the cap and gown,
That nice piece of paper I keep in some drawer,
All around me I see little girls, little boys
Dressed in grown up clothes at grown up jobs and
Grown up shows.
Whenever I think of the little boy
Still hiding inside this old shell of a man
I guess I'll never see the man I thought I'd be
But I've had such fun trying in living and dying
To be me.
Love is a kiss
A prelude to the dreams we hum
A postlude of what has become
Love is a wine
Intoxicating heart and soul
Over the mind it gains control
Love is a song
A melody to remember
Forever a burning ember
Love is a light
Dispelling darkness in the night
Keeping hope of morning in sight
Love is an ointment
Soothing discomfort through the years
Healing our wounds, calming our fears
Love is a nourishment
A meal giving comfort and strength
Encouragement for the day’s length
Love is a refreshment
An oasis along the way
A cool drink at the end of day
Love is a Faith
Bearing hope in the worst of times
Always waiting to hear the chimes
Love is a Jewell
A dangling necklace of fine gold
Staying the same as it gets old
Love is a perfume
A fragrance seeking our favor
An aroma we can savor
Love is a curtain
Protecting our secrets and pride
A shadow where we can confide
Love is a banquet
An emotion to celebrate
A good reason to Decorate
Love is a banner
Appreciating our worth
Expressing our value on earth
Love is a flower
A lily growing from the pond
Beauty that expresses our bond
Love is a voice
A call to the places we roam
An invitation to come home
Love is a guardian
Protecting us from things that spoil
Watching over the fruits of our toil
Love is a rock
In whose cleft we obtain refuge
Granting us strength for battles huge
Love is a covering
A quilt hand pieced with perfection
Stitched with peace, hope, and affection
Love is a garden
A soil where our lives can take root
A fertile place producing fruit
Love is a spice
Amending the ordinary
Bringing taste to the contrary
Love is a tree
A gentle breeze providing shade
A place for the stories we’ve made
Love is a seal
A room that captures and confines
A lock that holds us and refines
Love is a comfort
A shelter from the wind and cold
A blanket when sick and old
We went to different schools… together
walked on opposite sides of a street
that constituted an invisible border.
There were differences…..but not really.
We walked slowly, as if to spend time together,
assessing the others clothing, shoes, gait.
Eye contact was forbidden
as we had been warned…..about them
as they….about us.
Smiles were fleeting sorties into danger.
We found, as children do,
ways to challenge the guardians
a quickened pace….leading to
a foot race….a breaking from the norm,
a joyously shared connection
of shouts and flashing glances.
I am not sure who won the “race”,
I think we all did…us kids….truants
in the school of ancestral fears,
breaking the barrier of a paved border
streaking toward the finish line
stretched between two churches.
John G. Lawless
©9/12/2019
Spring silences
The heavy winter heart
The darkness, so distraught
Breathless with the hope
Growing in each new leaf
Every joy, every belief
Summer soothes
With rains washing away
The shadows of fear
The fractured feelings, emotions
Dreams abiding in the peace
Wonders so alive they never recede
Into the navy blue tides
Where the sea meets the sand
And releases so many prayers
Autumn whispers
Leaves falling in blessings
Harvest caresses, sensations
Alive, dancing on the inside
Pouring out laughter and memory
A nostalgic glimpse into the soul
Who knows only light, vibrant
Healing the darkness of a night
Who shimmers and glimmers
Starlight blinking against a backdrop
The heavy ebony truth, proof
To everything there is a season
Winter refreshes
Souls with many blessings
Promises rejuvenating, caressing
Kissing the snow as if falls
Delicate, light as a feather
Restoring the wonderful ambiance
Splendorous, beautiful – alive
Assurance of God’s design in every moment
The presence of purity, praise
Awakening the grace of a smile
From heaven’s light passing by
The seasons inspire
Reflections of glorious nature
Stirring the music, the melody
To life – alive – like the spirit
Who revives a holy fire
A crimson sky in the heavens
Where time slices through stardust
Appreciation, praise that welcomes
The beauty of this powerful
Quest to reach beyond the dew
To the edge of the radiance
Where joy colors hearts in hues
Sensitive to God’s creation
Last goodbye son it’s time for you to go
Every emotion was there on show
Trying to put on a brave face
Tears were falling; it’s no disgrace
It was time for you to fly the nest
Now time for you to show your best
Going away to study in the UK
God speed to send you safely on your way
Over the seas so so far away
It seems like five minutes since you were born
Now its time for you to spread your own wings
I waved you off on that September morn
I’m so proud of you son that my heart sings
You’re leaving the nest
Time to cut the apron strings
Fly high my darling
Contest Letting Go Three Form Style - Sponsored by Laura Loo
04~02~16
Black star breaking in my chest,
light spills out where the shadows pressed.
I’m not falling — I’m shedding the weight.
I rise when the dark shell breaks.
There’s a pressure building under bone,
a quiet storm I carried alone.
Every fear I swallowed whole
turns to gravity around my soul.
A sphere of everything I never said,
every memory I kept unfed —
it tightens, pulls, begins to spin,
a dark star forming deep within.
No warning, no whisper,
just the silence growing crisper.
I feel the moment start to bend —
every ending wants to be an opening again.
Alien on the stage,
close encounter with my rage.
Black star, black balloon —
I’m breaking out of my cocoon.
When the dark shell cracks,
I get every missing piece back.
Reclamation in my veins —
I rise again, I rise again.
The weight becomes too much to hold,
the core collapses, bright and bold.
Not destruction — transformation,
a soft detonation of revelation.
Truth falls like cosmic rain,
washing off the years of pain.
The body loosens, the burden fades,
I step out of the ruins I made.
No fear, no tether,
just the self returning to the center.
Every shard I thought I lost
comes home, no matter what it cost.
Alien on the stage,
close encounter with my rage.
Black star, black balloon —
I’m breaking out of my cocoon.
When the dark shell cracks,
I get every missing piece back.
Reclamation in my veins —
I rise again, I rise again.
Endings are openings.
Grief is a husk.
The brightest truths
hide in the darkest dust.
You were never meant to stay small.
You were never meant to stay caged.
You were always meant to burst,
to scatter,
to return.
Alien on the stage,
close encounter with my rage.
Black star, black balloon —
I’m reborn inside the bloom.
When the dark shell breaks,
the whole cosmos wakes.
Reclamation in my veins —
I rise again, I rise again.
The cosmos keeps what you can’t hold…
and gives it back
when you’re ready
to rise.
From the moon to the mountains, in grains of sand,
the everyday transformation and exile,
the joy of returning home
rests upon my walking.
Do not
put Sellotape
over it anymore.
One Monday,
at the window of rain,
let the words
that were never spoken
stay with me too,
some rain-soaked
names, some
sunlight that never
made it home.
Leave the door
open, in case
she ever
comes back
to a blurred life.
I will live
with a little courage
in this hazy life.
It raises goosebumps,
the blunt
sky blooms
with stars.
I don't know why
I sit and sit,
waiting, searching,
brush in hand,
looking this way and that.
You have kept so much suspicion
in your eyes.
Why?
I am only a little to the north,
a little to the south,
in surrender.