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Christine Lehman Poem
Sometimes I just
want to sit
and write a poem.
Sometimes I just
want to stand
and recite a poem.
Sometimes I just
want to walk
around the house
picking up dust and lint
and maybe writing a poem.
Sometimes I just
think writing a poem
is the most wasteful pasttime ever
and I should just join the crowd
hunting Pokemons
right outside my front door.
Copyright © Christine Lehman | Year Posted 2016
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Christine Lehman Poem
Morning coffee burns
when it hits my sleepy lips
boy, it sure tastes good!
Copyright © Christine Lehman | Year Posted 2016
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Christine Lehman Poem
Making paper beads
is a beautiful hobby
jewelry from trash
Copyright © Christine Lehman | Year Posted 2016
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Christine Lehman Poem
Worth A Shot
I didn’t want to alienate the capricious alien who ate
my malignant scapegoat Harry who refused to gravitate
outside to chew my weeds although he did then dissipate
the transitory nature of my fluctuating weight
and though he was perspicuous and often tried to bate
me into argumentative discussions (which I hate)
he sometimes tried to flatter me while I would masticate
the breakfast sausage bought by my inurbane sister Kate.
And now that I’ve used all ten words I think I’ll just tempt fate
and stop, because it’s dinnertime, and this is NOT first-rate!
August 31, 2016
Copyright © Christine Lehman | Year Posted 2016
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Christine Lehman Poem
Outside my window
birch tree in the summer sun
snow in summertime
Copyright © Christine Lehman | Year Posted 2016
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Christine Lehman Poem
curly loves to dance
larry plays the violin
moe just likes to lead
Copyright © Christine Lehman | Year Posted 2016
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Christine Lehman Poem
Clay saucer
clay pot
potting soil
striped triangular stone
tiny green bud
tall bamboo stalk
fleshy green leaves
held in place by
patio umbrella crank
sits on latticed
black round wrought iron
table at Bart’s Books
Ojai, California,
quiet, peaceful,
so serene
till a bookstore-hating baby
screams.
Copyright © Christine Lehman | Year Posted 2016
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Christine Lehman Poem
insects on the glass
buzzing bee on windowpane
our cat tries to catch
Copyright © Christine Lehman | Year Posted 2016
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Christine Lehman Poem
On Wednesday, November 9th,
it’ll all be over but the shouting.
And we know the shouting - and maybe shooting -
will go on and on and on
for a very long, long time.
But...
On Wednesday, November 9th,
perhaps we’ll finally be able to start
to put this election behind us
and get on with our lives.
Now...
whether or not we can still go on
with our friendship, given that you and I
were on totally opposite sides in this
earth-shatteringly crazy debacle,
is another matter. And I don’t know
if we can easily forget about
the nasty things we said about
each other’s choice.
And so, perhaps...
on Wednesday, November 9th,
I think, if you’ll agree with me,
it might be best to just get up,
and have a cup of coffee, and
peruse the headlines, see who won,
let out a silent cheer, or groan
(depending on who won, of course),
and then get dressed and go outside
and get on with our day,
and say,
"Thank God, we’re done with this whole thing
for four more years!"
and then we’ll say,
"Hey, sorry for that time I said
your candidate was a jerk, and you
said mine was a total creepazoid,
and we didn’t speak for days."
and then
let’s just agree to put it out
of both our minds. Whoever wins,
on that fine morning,
Wednesday, November 9th,
let’s just be friends again.
Okay?
Copyright © Christine Lehman | Year Posted 2016
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Christine Lehman Poem
ashes strike my nose
strong wind blowing from the north
smoke from distant fire.
Copyright © Christine Lehman | Year Posted 2016
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