Tag Archives: Poetry

Guest post…The Loss of Mother

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recovery sign
The Loss of Mother
 
What can I say?  I say no more.
I am a closed door.
A dark, dark room.
All gloom and edges squared
Where do I go from here?
Corner to corner,
Edge upon edge
I long for the softness of my mother’s embrace
She is not here.  She is not there.
Corner to corner,
Edge to edge,
The loneliness is locked here inside this door.
 
Out.  Out, I say.
Open the door.
Feel the pain.
Corner to corner,
Edge to edge.
Feel the pain and out the door!


About my friend Marianne in her words:
I am currently employed full-time with County government and work two 
12-step programs.  Most of my free time is spent doing service work 
for my recovery programs, taking walks, swimming, and playing with my 
six year-old grandson. A lifetime lover of literature, music, and all 
things art,  I embrace this opportunity to share my experience, 
strength, and hope with others through this portal of poetry and hope
to learn from the experience, strength , and hopes of others.

Too hot for hospice

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sexy glovesat seventy-one
I’ve given up sin
so off go the
scanties to
thrift shop’s back bin

I scarcely recall
the donning or doffing
or even the reason
for all that put offing

the lights
were they dim
or were they full on
in deference to him

did he smile
all the while
I just can’t remember
was it love
or just lust
I hope it was tender

will they lay out the lace
in a prominent place
or throw it away
and leave not a trace of those
memories magic
and outcomes so tragic

but rules are the rules
knick-knacks are proper
but unmentionable
memories
get tossed in the hopper

Maybe I need to write a poem about waiting

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waitng

Courtesy bravegirlcommunity.com

romance in fifth gear
racing
headlong
daring
full steam ahead
damn the torpedoes

a friend suggests
waiting
caution
let love unfold as
rose in bloom
I nod as if in
agreement

inside my hasty heart
plots
plans
turns a first greeting into
I do

porcelain held mocha
raised with seductive grace
hints at fingers that could
hold other than a
cup
lips that could
nibble on
softer harder things

his words a prelude to my
self-composed
symphony
his syllables orchestrated to
fit my melody

my nagging big girl brain
throws up a red flag at
my impatience
my hungry heart
rips it down
a disappearing waitress
colludes
fairy godmother-like
more time
to charm
to drag him down
my garden path
gravel embedded in his
backsides

reluctant goodbyes
outside
on cracked sidewalk
he leans in for a
tentative kiss
I wangle more with
desired effect

two weeks pass
no word
cancel order for
bridal bouquet
refund honeymoon fare to
paris
swing wrecking ball
smash to smithereens
unshared desires
forever afters
new beginnings are hers
not mine

give that waiting thing
holding back
reserving judgment
grown-up stuff
a chance
move past thinking
waiting is for others
let it be a good idea for
me

no
not a good idea
I hate good ideas
let it be my idea
let waiting
restrain
tame
my wild heart

Maybe I need an oil change…

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drain oilmaybe I need an oil change
clean out that gunk that’s mucking up my life
remove the sludge that slows my engine
saps my get up and go

 

new oildrain out the sludge
pour in new ideas
so I can run more smoothly
head in new directions
explore new horizons

 

tire worn while I’m at it
rotate those old thoughts
don’t let them wear me down
in the same sore places
keep them from making me miserable
in the same old way
endangering my life as I drive through life

I don’t need a whole new me
just a daily tune up
every 6000 minutes or sooner
write
listen
pray

lifetime guaranteeif I take good care of me
I could last a lifetime
satisfaction guaranteed

 

When in doubt

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bad catpernicious thoughts
swirl
stew
boil
in my brain
determined to declare me
winner in this battle of
belonging

angry words lurk in
stamped addressed envelope in
my purse
patient
poisonous
each syllable soaked in
revenged intent
‘gainst him her
refusing to be
trashed

count to ten
if needed to
ten thousand
count blessings
god things
number hallowed gifts
intended for
hollow spaces

listen to
heart-meant cautions from
loving lips of
friends

read meaning-true
paragraphs of hope from the
same hand in
better times

recite prayers of
intercession
forgiveness
try to mean it

drop not into
blue box
drop into god box

Poems for recovery

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powerpoetry_logo_0I had an amazing experience this week. After a year of social media exploration, accumulating over a thousand Twitter @docflamingo followers the hard way (thanking them, not buying them!), I found myself receiving a sudden flood of Retweets, those very hard to come by Twitter accolades. Were they for my novels? Were they for my travels in France? Or even my classic car adventures?

No…they were for my poetry, specifically my poems about recovery. I discovered that there are some very needy souls out there in this way too impersonal social media world, hungry for words that comfort, challenge, and bring about change.

So I have established a special page on my website called POEMS FOR RECOVERY devoted to sharing my own experience, strength, and hope. I will add more as each day passes.

I have had an early morning practice for the past six years of keeping a daily diary of my own recovery journey. I read a page out of one of my Twelve Step daily readers, re-type it, and then journal as I am inspired by the experience, strength, and hope of others. I find that angry feelings, resentments, disappointments, and grief simply fade away as each entry progresses. Occasionally, I have turned those written thoughts into poetry. Now I see that doing this simple daily exercise in written meditation is not only a help to me but succor to others.

shareI would love to see these shared. We never know who might need to gobble up a crumb of truth and hope today. How special it would be for you, friends and strangers alike, to share your own recovery journey in return. Your voice may be a lifeline for a sinking soul.

Do not cling…

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worth itdo not cling
shrink wrap yourself
around something
not yours to have
not love
nor money
nor any object
of your desire

save endless
hours of emotional
wear and tear
avoid exercise in futility
you cannot stick
to Teflon dreams
that resist
the irresistible you

believe life gives
what is yours to have
let feelings linger
until dissolved
seek poetic companions
who inspire
pick author’s brains
who encourage

decide to be cheerful
just for today

Roundup for my soul…

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DSC01772 banish reluctance
pouty lip
acknowledge god-given gift
faculty to bear
what comes to pass

broad spectrum
fast acting post-emergent
depression-cide

water-soluable
mix with tears

guaranteed control
perennial fear
annual disappointments

graft new vein
on broken heart
plow garden-fresh furrow
into hard soil of resistant mind
plant hardy seed
anticipate growth

A magical photo of Eze leads to a poem

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EzeVillageStarStreetI took this photo during a chilly evening walk in Eze. I couldn’t roust my fellow travelers from the warmth of the restaurant for the trek up the steep hill into the medieval town. So, I found myself alone with the magic and the Christmas star. On my return home, I wrote a poem entitled Dreaming into the New Year.

Winding down,
new memories as yet unborn,
asleep before the celebration arrives.

Drifting through dreams.
Slivers of imagination
fluttering in secret nooks.

Walking through midnight spaces
that hibernate
until eyelids close and my mind dissolves,
then burst into exotic avenues
brimming with intrigue.

Dreams conjured
by a capricious master,
Liquid dreams,
wild with passion.
Desperate flights
on wingless arms.

By act of will,
demons are banished
on this eve.

Dreamless sleep
as old as childhood,
as fresh as the next breath,
welcomed.

Sanctuary found
in unconscious grottoes
shimmering with pools of blessings.

Restored.
Energy harvested like golden sheaves
to feed a year of tomorrows.