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Best Poems Written by Patricia Koch

Below are the all-time best Patricia Koch poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Patricia Koch Poem

Filling In the Blanks

I am wondering if this is one of those moments
the kind that fit into that loop of tape
playing over and over in my brain
those fleeting moments when you you did not think you needed to pay attention
but realize later it was a pivital moment in youe timeline... lifeline

I remember staring out the window at the grass that had not turned brown over 
the winter, seeing it peek through the snow on the graves on the hill

the brilliance of your red dress that summer as it spilled off the picnic blanket  
and touched the grass

hiding behind the brick wall of my middle school on my bicycle, just to catch a 
glance of you for the last time,as and i would be going on to high school 

they are turned down corners in a mental scrapbook i carry... flashes that come 
around without warning when i close my eyes in the sun 

We used to joke about the soundtrack of our lives.. as if someday someone 
would make a movie of or lives

and i would hear "comfortably numb" in the background

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Marvel

i find her
in my demeanor
the way i hold myself and the way i hold others
i hear her voice in my
intonations and inflections
i carry her baggage
her wishful thinking and her critical sarcasm
and as my bones stiffen with age
i am certain i possess her dna
she left me pictures and dishes and jewelry and notes
and things i can neither pack nor give away
phone conversations and birthday cards that won't be had or sent
and in a moment
i am both angry and sad
that she won't be here for the celebrations and the disappointments
but i know she listens
i know she hears me curse and cry and scream joyously
and i am hopeful that one day i will be
intuitive enough
to hear what her reply is
and be able to settle into believing in my gut
and knowing for sure what she would have done
she was my best friend
she was my mother

Details | Patricia Koch Poem

For Lexi

quick witted 
like the child her mother was
i miss that child 
but adore the butterfly she has become
she will be more 
than we all imagine
if we let her be
just as her mother 
and her grandmother and great grandmother were and are
but we come from a line of struggle
of will and wellness
of dreams and wants
of can be and will be
she smiles
and my heart is as full as it can be
she treats me like a playmate
and i wouldn't have it any other way
i love her and her mother
as much as my heart will allow
as much as there is room for
as if they were my own

Details | Patricia Koch Poem

Lint Ball

it is little, this memory
like the lint balled up inside the pocket
of my favorite denium jacket
I roll it between my fingers
and desperatly search for it when i am nervous
and it stays in the deepest fold 
all summer long 
until the fall comes and i take out my denium jacket again
it is always in the fall i remember 
perhaps it is the beginning of the school year
or the cool breeze
that reminds me to think of you  
or the little lint ball 
like a string around my finger
like a rope around my heart

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Annabella

she mirrors my movements with her eyes
slow and calculated
darting then stopping
and she looks at me
knowing she is my end all
like velvet in the sun
she strethes out on the sofa
and i tell her
she is my only love
my best friend
my sweet soft dream
i remind her 
of how i held her in the palm of my hand
only a few weeks old
smelling of horses and milk
and she wraps herself around me 
soft and gentle
and licks the top of my nose
as precious as the first time i saw her

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Louis

he looks like a Picasso, come to life
in charcoal and white,
pink skin showing through
he was hard to woo
but i wore him down 
with warm milk and an old down comforter
i was sick with pneumonia
but every day i would bundle up in layers and call to him in the garage
"little one'' id call "click click" (the standard call of the wild) 'Little one"...
and he would peek out from behind a box or trash can and he would smell the 
wounderous presents i brought
the catnip mouse on a string and the steam rising in the frigid cold from the 
warm milk
"little one"  each day would come a little closer and rub on my shoe
or nip at my hand
until one evening he watched me go through the porch door and followed
greeting the others with his belly dragging on the cold tile
he is part of the fold now, we call him  Louis
and he drives the elders crazy
he talks in a dove like coo and stretches his neck for you to scratch
bella tolerates this behavior
but secretly likes him very much
our little Picasso
much more precious our little work of art

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I Love You

when it was all blue
the sky, the water and my eyes
i tossed the idea around
but i was late to the party
so making up for lost time
we stumbled upon a few dance steps 
and ended up 
buying a house...raising a few a cats
and laughing about those things we said we would...someday
we are far from perfect
far from Albuquerque
and not as far along as we thought we'd be
but love is love  you can't buy it, and if it's real you can't sell it either
i always thought it was the icing on the cake
but it is the cake
all my quirks and your self doubt
don't add up to a hill a of beans
you' my soul mate
i love you

Details | Patricia Koch Poem

For Clarence

when the call came
I was tieing my shoes
it was raining and i was heading out for coffee
i felt the phone ring through
the line, the phone
my bones
he was 88 years old
the man of my dreams
he taught me about farm animals 
and righty tighty, lefty loosey
he let me sit on his lap while he backed the car out of the garage
and showed me the fine points of a good, homegrown tomato
once when i was seven years old
he came home from a road trip with a red cowboy hat and bandana
with my name on it
and he brought me a beaded belt with "San Francisco" on it
he taught me how to make a mean Manhattan
and how to clean a sink trap
he was a good man and a great father
that dad of mine

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Disability

where i am
feels small and tight
like someone else's clothing
it doesn't fit or smell like me

I wake up each morning  not sure how much of my energy can be spent
on the things i used to take for granted
Breathing, eating,sleeping

It took over my life in November
took away my job and gave  my name rank and serial number to every doctor and 
insurance company east of the Mississippi

I have medications that counteract the effects of other medications
i watch too much daytime Television
and spend too much time bonding with my cats

I have become a victim in this heath game 
they cannot put one name on it so it must not be real
but i feel like i am dying slowly
a little more each day

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For Ginger

Twenty years is a long time
layered with angst and mayhem
colored with dreams and triumphs
surviving and coping
and when i almost lost you
because i was stubborn and indignant
filled with grief
you were so pungent with the scent of chemotherapy and death
i was brave, but you were braver 
we have lingered in the puddles of our life together
laughing and crying and taking long naps through
the addictions and betrayals
the dimissals and the lack of good judgement
to end up here
i love you 
mostly because you get it
i'm so tightly wound and too damn layed back
because you love me unconditionally
and you let me keep the cats that follow me home