at the burnt-out end of night
under a naked
flickering electric light
i worked upon leaving
all the junk
in my overstuffed mind
behind
i guess i must have been spaced-out
that overhead light
on its thin cord
began swinging back and forth
while i listened
to burnt-out thoughts
of a sudden
i understood
that they had never been my thoughts
all that existed
was a listener
when the dawn light entered
that light bulb kept swinging
and flickering
as if it were still thinking
Categories:
unpacking, poetry,
Form: Free verse
it hits you
like a freight train,
but softer,
more like the silence
after it’s passed.
the bottles on the table—
they don’t speak to you anymore,
they’re just empty.
the letters from her
are still in the drawer
but the words don’t mean
what they used to.
the clock ticks louder
when you’re alone,
a cruel metronome
mocking the time
you can’t get back.
you think about
what it was to hold
something that mattered—
a hand, a dream,
the idea that tomorrow
wasn’t just another
repeat of today.
and now the walls lean in,
the bed sags heavier,
the mirror spits back
someone you don’t recognize.
loss doesn’t take you all at once;
it nibbles,
bit by bit,
until even your shadow
doesn’t trust you anymore.
but you keep walking,
because what else is there?
somewhere out there
the freight train circles back.
Categories:
unpacking, cry, depression, drink, drug,
Form: Free verse
“The presence of a long-term, conscious goal has helped me maintain stability through the ubiquitous changes of over half a century.”
quote by Mary Craig
Ubiquitous is a fixed measure
of dirty dishes, meals and laundry;
working moms miss out on their leisure.
Days and nights seem set on chronic pause.
Boredom, loneliness, and arthritis
barricade the lives of our grandmas.
For our children, ubiquitous means
constant homework, chores and discipline,
unrelenting on into their teens.
Non-stop updates in technology
and global politics stress adults.
Know change circumscribes ubiquity.
Faith too is of a timeless essence.
Without end, God remains in control;
ubiquitous, His omnipresence.
November 4, 2022
Contest: Writing Challenge – Unburden a “U” word
Sponsor: Constance La France
Categories:
unpacking, 11th grade, change, faith,
Form: Rhyme
I try unpacking her baggage
Why does she have to be so mean
You would think she was royalty
Sitting in her chair like a Queen
I pick up all her dishes
The woman has not a care
It seems that perspiration
will destroy her perfect hair
When it comes to making love
Me oh my how my hands shake
That woman is uncommon
She points out every mistake!
A fictional account "Thank God"!
For Carolyn Devonshire's "Gems for Baggage Contest"
Categories:
unpacking, farewell,
Form: Quatrain
New place
Boxes and bags
Bags and boxes
Shrinking space
I find the familiar
I find the forgotten
Each item opening
The gate to Memory Lane
Some steps are precious
But it’s not always a sunny street
There are potholes and puddles,
Also shadows and alleys
I open a door,
See a covered hole in the floor
Is there treasure there?
Or a jumbled, shattered mess?
I step back and breathe,
Lock the gate but keep the key
Too many boxes at once
Take a break for a week
I’ve had time to sort
And lace up my boots
I open a bag
And step forward again
Categories:
unpacking, life, memory, remember,
Form: Free verse
As much as I don’t like to pack,
You’d think that after coming back
I’d simply do things in reverse,
But emptying is almost worse.
The dirty stuff goes in the wash
But since I overpack, well, gosh!
I have to sort and put away
The unworns for another day.
They’re wrinkled, though, so should I wait
To iron at a later date
Or hang them up with crease and fold?
Procrastination’s taken hold.
My suitcase sits for several days
And it will take a few delays
Until at last I zip it closed,
And order’s once again imposed.
Categories:
unpacking, clothes,
Form: Rhyme