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Best Poems Written by Roseann Geiger

Below are the all-time best Roseann Geiger poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Roseann Geiger Poem

The Union

Shards of tears 
engrave memories
like a tattered glass
recalling years scarred by desire.

she went mountain climbing 
too high, gasped, got 
wedged like a pinched rose
then hoisted by a fish hook in the jaw.

he did 60 pills in 60 days
still uncured, he grabbed a feather
tickled a powder keg
and exploded.

this marriage was a crown of thorns.

Details | Roseann Geiger Poem

The Fruit Man

Remember Beefsteak Charlies?
I don’t remember the last time I saw one
but every time I see one of those
tomatoes, I remember Charlie
my Charlie, the one who befriended me
he didn’t have to, after all					
he was my grandfather.
Charlie set the bar high
32 years with a seasoned life coach
no one in my life came close.
He was a fruit man and when I was small, 
he’d take me with him to work
a little red-haired girl in Bed Sty
playing with sawdust on Key Food’s floor
chattering with Bible ladies
who found me irresistible
who wore fashionable hats and shoes
and kept me in their prayers.
We’d have lunch at Arthur’s counter
or stop at a diner on the way home
He loved diners. When I was older
he’d take me to breakfast before school
even my teen years didn’t scare him away
We’d go to Chapman’s - Nick and Gertie -
she made the best grilled cheese sandwich
Charlie made a true best friend.
I tagged along because he was fun
and he sneakily gave me education
Charlie never made it past 8th grade
but no lettered professor
could match his wit or knowledge
he wiggled God into my heart
and society onto my conscience
and he laughed every day, at everything 
at himself the hardest.
People loved him because he was real
I loved him because I just did.
He taught my daughters to sing and to color
a real playmate rollicking 
along a floor full of trains and trolls
and every time I see those tomatoes
I remember his gardens
he would show me, teach me, tell me
the jewel was the beefsteak
unmatched in flavor, yet
big and lumpy, truly imperfect.
That beefsteak was everything 
every seed, a lesson
growth spurring and rounding
imperfect and ever changing.
I mourn that man every day
but my teacher echoes
in every lesson he planted
in magic tomatoes
their voice in my ear
be better, be better.

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Ms Oedipus

because daddy pulled your hair
I pampered you
saw the beauty in you too much
I let it efface reason
because you suffered, I let you 
play drama queen, and gave you 
the slack that I never enjoyed
but all you want to do is play.
because of your frailty
I jumped in for the rescue
enlisted a whole rescue team
but you kept letting go
rather than face the truth
you gouged your eyes
and told me that it’s impossible
for you to see, you thought 
it was a good plea
for temporary insanity
but I know you better.
too smart, little girl
you see the layout of a puzzle
before you place the first piece
throw your eyes away
but don’t use that as an excuse
even the blind 
can take beautiful photographs.

Details | Roseann Geiger Poem

Homeless

no one exists

integrity confined to 
the hint of a dream
like excitement
a fading wisp of smoke

a body that lingers
like the end of a season
rusted hues, dry and shadowed
overlooking cracked glass

scraps of dignity
empty into a paper bag
identity washes down 
and away with a chaser 

the truth screaming
of dearth and a wasteland			
knows no today
let alone tomorrow

almost invisible
a world below the surface
runs parallel to bustle
runs over the ledge

no one notices.

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When You See Me, Someday

Someday, when you see me
don’t look at my face 
the color of my skin 
or the shape of my body
See me, listen 
not to the sound of my voice 
its accent or its rhetoric
Someday, when you see me 
look straight into my eyes
See what I really am
Listen to what I am saying
and know me 
Know yourself.

Details | Roseann Geiger Poem

A Bluebird Passing

If the world were to kill me
please mourn
I was conjured with all good intention
by a loving earth
but the world is full of murderous things
in the sun and the sea
and my sanitized plate may be poisoned 
by a surviving microbe
or residual pesticide
the world might jerk
and grind me in its jaw
or some ‘fluenza, from far away  
may drop in my lap
and give me sepsis
while I pause to appreciate the beauty
of a bluebird passing
against the sky.

Details | Roseann Geiger Poem

On Parenting, Sometimes

The pain of a child
who has forgotten cheers
behind teetering footfall,
hands held into sleep
tears kissed into laughter
and monsters banished by embrace
the pain of words rendered machete sharp
carry death more sure than malignancy
We spill blood for our children
we want a fat life
so we give, naively
expecting kindness from the universe
in the form of a smile
or some small affection
but instead of the cosmic greeting card
that we picture while waiting 
with open veins
we get a blade
or worse, nothing
It would be sad to watch
tear shed when parting
when filling with pride
or agonizing over taunts
missed balls, lost friends
Humans prefer to hide sad things
A child doesn’t see the empty pockets
that actually fill their world
or the youth that was bartered
for their opportunities
The pain is never intended
it grows resplendent in hidden recesses
it doesn’t need sun or water
or venom
It exists because we will it when
we wake to hungry cries
we will it when we trade trinkets
with demons to keep them at away
From the moment we conceive
we let our blood
and fade away

Details | Roseann Geiger Poem

Hajib

The car rounds my corner 
as I count breaths while waiting 
through a familiar melange 
of urine and rotted fish
She is framed in black hajib
children seated in the back
of course she is not driving
and her gaze catches my eye
She’s not looking at me
She’s not looking at anything 
as her eyes light the boulevard
She is somewhere, not here
I know that intensely
because I know that look
She’s more than distant 
from her rented reality
She leads a double life
far from the stench of the boulevard
far from that car and the code that veils her
She speaks to me long distance
in freestyle and I can hear her laughter
see her hair carried along the breeze
its highlights caressing sunkissed shoulders
as she watches her children play 
near an ocean, somewhere
I know that look
I have self swathed in hajib to please
My eyes grew weary on roads 
I would have traveled
if not for shackles, unseen but real
yet I had choices, keys
and unfortunately, cowardice
I took too long to carve a path
I see her youth and scream silently
She is gone. Did she hear me somehow?
Her chains are stronger
those keys lie protected in dogma and fire
I knew her when I saw her eyes
but we are worlds apart.

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Snapshots

I remember angles
lots of angles
shoulders, elbows, jaw
and Old Spice.
I remember a voice like gravel
angular, uneven, an instantly soothing
like water spilling over rocks.
I remember a well worn Yankee cap
and sudsy beer, lots of it
the ensuing brawl with Tess
always capped with laughter.
I remember that laughter
honest boundless and everywhere
the sly stealthy humor
the genial ready wink.
I remember licorice and Santa Clauses
sundaes and Church
stained glass and collection baskets
lots of those.
I remember the end
with countless living tears
I remember a man like a blanket
embracing, healing 
channeling life.
I remember love
I remember my grandfather.

Details | Roseann Geiger Poem

Tackling Number 3

I felt so haggard that night
and you asked me such an odd question
“mom, do you ever wonder
what you really look like?”
You told me that you think about that a lot
what you look like
if you were looking at yourself.
You were watching me read
and thought of how beautiful I looked
and you wondered what it would be like to see you.
“You can never really look at yourself” you said.
How true, I thought,
on so many levels.
I detected your insecurity
how you don’t think you are pretty
how when I tell you how beautiful you are
you just don’t believe it
because seeing is believing
and if you can’t see yourself
you can never really believe in yourself
therefore, you don’t exist.
But let me tell you this single truth
no gold on earth compares
to the gold in your eyes
they sparkle unlike anything I have ever seen
the sun in its brilliance can’t match them
or the warmth that I feel
when you look my way
the fact is that
your eyes are beautiful
in a physical sense
but they hold fire
and it makes me wonder
at the depth of your strength
when I look into your eyes
I see eternity
and it’s beautiful
not like the sky
like pure light
golden and warm
Sunshine,
that’s how I see you
that’s what you look like
if only you could see