Short Bathwater Poems

Oh bathwater waves 
bubbles from a school of fish;
Calm after the storm....

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Suicide,
the death of the self

Consciousness martyred
—bathwater damned

(Dreamsleep: February, 2020)...

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“By the way, Ron Paul wants
to eliminate the Department of Energy”
“Ah! with that one statement
he has won my vote!”
…
…
…
 “I see… he wants to eliminate
every other cabinet-level department, as well”
“YOU MUST THROW OUT THE BATHWATER
WITH THE EVIL DEMON-CHILD!”...

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As she envisions boarding the plane,
she whoops a big hooray,
but then she's quickly back to earth,
realizing all the bills to pay…
Her dream vacation is to one day
see the sights and sounds of London, 
but for now she'll have to settle
for some bathwater filled with Calgon!...

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lying in the pool of
water
blood.
a body thats been decaying
far before its demise
razor blades
and words that cut just as deep
standing against ivory paper
see the world through my eyes
this bathwater
so far from clean
its spoiled now
one last stand
you ruined me
throw baby out with the bathwater....

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And proached you in parking lot
while unloading your groceries
and I frowned

would it be different if under same stances
I proached you and 
smiled?

Yepperooni, just sayin', be careful
not to throw baby
out with bathwater.

Vice versa, too, is what we struggle with,

Broken ribs and tattoos.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

among other things...

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If we can’t agree on fifty-one percent
of what affects us both
we’re doomed
Like the baby and the bathwater
our future lost
in critical disdain

All politics of division
a self-imposed, self-righteous
Armageddon
The brotherhood of humanity
sacrificed
—on its dying altar of shame

(Tribute To Anthony Hopkins:  July, 2022)...

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Do poets always walk in the rain?
This poet once did
When she was but a kid.
The bathwater of summer drops
Cascading from suburban chimney tops,
Puddles on pavement
Begging for splashing,
A robin’s egg in the grass
All fractured and bashed-in.
The simple wonders
Of childhood
Are not so long gone.
Be mindful, you children
Don’t fail to hold on.
...

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A man loses his father 
and adulthood begins
Bathwater draining
the baby within

A son who is sireless
new destiny’s child
Whose choice is to run
or to stand and beguile

Alone with his memories
one image sustains
The voice but a whisper
its spirit reclaimed

To carry the title
his lineage holds
A surname retendered
—new history untold

(The New Room: July, 2023)...

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Bathwater and bubbles are waiting,
but my child is nowhere near.
Yet, I can see from cookie crumbs,
he's crawled from here to there.

Oh, yes! he's been in the kitchen.
I see his crooked crumb trail,
which leads to our white kitten,
with a chocolate, sticky tail!

In every room I search
for my little chocolate mess.
Then, I find him in the my bedroom,
with his hands on my new dress!...

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Beaten
Smashed
Kicked
And splashed
Out into the street
Like dirty bathwater

Nothing more than a filthy puddle
Rising over the curb
Flooding the sidewalk cracks
Eager for evaporation

Every hair
Is On end

Every pore
At attention

Yearning skin
Is stretching for a touch
That never existed
Pulled 
Like the blankets
Of children
Over worried heads
Attempting 
Their Satisfying seclusion

For when there is no direction
Passion is formless
And love loses shape...

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Lingering love
Hung on a telephone line
Promises and Moments
Swing like sneakers
Superfluously hanging after the winter

You have been misplaced
Nothing is known
Fate and her heavy fists
have crushed  
Taken unmercifully
Leaving life’s taste bland
Like bathwater
I can’t find a comfortable towel
So I sit in here searching
Drenched in my wrinkly soul 

Longing for a vibration 
To feel our existence
Provide an alternative 
To this emotion
I miss you...

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