Thursday, February 22, 2018

A Poem By My Mother

Photo Credit: By ON at de.wikipedia
I often attribute my word artistry to my mother. She was a writer all her life, and whatever spurred that part of her was passed along to me. Whether by nature or nurture, her love for writing became mine as well. Her style of poetry was very traditional - rhyme and meter, rhyme and meter - and that's how I also write most of mine. I've tried more modern forms of poetry, but I'm never as satisfied with those attempts as I am when I sound more like Mom. This little untitled piece was in my Facebook memories this morning and I wanted to share it with you. 


Oh how I wish this could be done,
To reunite with people who've passed,
To gain back time that has been lost,
To make the special moments last.

But we must instead keep moving forward, 
Though the memories we won't forget.
Apply those lessons we've learned from the past,
And live fully, without regret.

I'd find the friends of days gone by
And the closeness we once knew.
I'd find the hopes, the plans, the dreams, 
The heart I lost to you. 

I'd find the innocence of youth,
My faith in fellowman.
I'd find a joy in simple things, 
The way I did back then.

I'd find such beauty in a rose
Or in a mountain view. 
I'd find the pleasures I have lost
In little things I do.

I'd take the bitter with the sweet,
I'd take the weeds with clover,
If I could turn the clock around
And start my life all over. 

Shirley Love
3/28/1936 - 8/31/2013

Please Hold

A couple of years ago I began working at a job where I have the coveted opportunity to spend extended time on call hold, waiting for representatives to research, check with help desk, escalate, and call a task force together to work on problems with insurance claims. Exciting, no? Thankfully this is not the sole aspect of my job or I would have been carted out in a straitjacket on day three.

Instead, I began categorizing the different types of hold music. At first it was simple. "Plucky 80s Sitcom Theme Song." Followed by "Groovy 70s Law Enforcement Action Drama." Funny enough, "Cheesy Porn-Stache Scene" was actually one of the categories. The most specific I got was "Background Synthesizer From Nestle Alpine White Commercial Circa 1986."

Until now.

Friends, I bring you "Stories From the Void."

Tuesday Morning:
This hold music sounds like a heartfelt teen movie from the late 70s where a city girl moves to the country to live with her aunt and uncle after her parents die in a car accident and she gives them all sorts of trouble at first because she's acting out in grief but then she falls in love with their horse Stanley so she sets to caring for him and it changes her life so she ends up becoming a successful veterinarian. Specifically, this is the music that is playing when she goes back to the farm to say goodbye to Stanley when he dies, and they play a poignant montage of scenes of her as a teenager caring for him and riding him and grooming him and you can practically hear her broken teen heart healing but her adult heart breaking again for the loss of her beloved Stanley. Oh Stanley! I love you so much! You made me who I am today!

Tuesday Afternoon:
80s rom-com starring post-Tootsie but pre-Rain Man Dustin Hoffman as the sad underdog who pines for a gorgeous, high-maintenance woman who barely looks his way initially but then eventually falls for his charm. This is the music that they play when she realizes that she's falling in love with him, but before her controlling ex-husband comes back into the picture and takes her attention away from sad underdog for a brief period until he does something so awful (but sanitary awful like making a hateful comment about the sad underdogs of the world accompanied by skeptical scoffing, not actually awful like filleting her skin and serving it to her during the Super Bowl) that she remembers how much she loves sad underdog and goes back to him.

Friday, March 1, 2013

Little Girl Lost


Little girl lost, I see you crying,
Your wounded heart breaking in your chest.
I know that inside you may feel like you’re dying,
And life is putting you to the test.

The bullies who tease and torment you today
Won’t mean a thing when you’re grown.
Just open your eyes and find your way.
You’ll soon realize that you’re not alone.

They say hurtful words and have hateful ways.
Don’t associate yourself with their brand.
You have words, too, and yours will amaze
In a fashion they can’t understand.

March through the crowd, hold your head high.
You were born for bigger, better things.
Paint on a smile; don’t let them see you cry.
When the time comes you’ll spread your wings.

You’ll fly far away and beat your own drum,
Confident being who you were meant to be.
I can promise you now all these things will come,
Because little girl lost, you grow up to be me.

Black Hell


Once upon a time the streets were lively in that small town
Teenagers cruised the main drag on weekends
Honking and yelling at one another in passing
Children pedaled vigorously to meet their friends in the park
Or to the corner store for candy and arcade games
Mothers pushed their babies in strollers
Around the walking path
Or across the fairgrounds
Circling the midway to the sounds of a carnival
Lights from the streetlamps and storefronts illuminated the night sky
Generations of families lived there
“It’s a safe place to raise kids”
Everyone knew everyone
The faces were all familiar

But people began wanting more than what small town life could offer
The teenagers went off to college
Honking and
Waving goodbye
The corner stores closed and
Children stayed home to play video games
The soil harbored bitterness and
Mothers took their babies away
“It’s not safe there anymore”

The streets are barren
The storefronts boarded up
The faces are all sullen

The driver of a lonely car on the main drag sees a black and white town
Devoid of color
     Growing old
          Dying

Carved in Stone



When you first left I found you everywhere
Your favorite song on the radio
A dragonfly darting across my vision
We floated through the atmosphere together in a dream
And saw the earth’s shadow cast on the moon
I saw your eyes in a newborn baby boy
Who also smiled your smile within a few weeks
But gradually the songs stopped playing
And the dragonflies stopped darting
And the dreams stopped coming
And you are nowhere to be found
Have you gone away for good
Maybe you were never really there to begin with
Rather I have simply become
Accustomed to your absence

The Beast Within



Across the soft green grass we’d run,
Laughing blithely as we’d play.
Through the muddy creek we’d splash,
On a stifling summer’s day.
As children we were so naïve,
We knew not what was coming.
For in the distance the heart of the beast
Had already begun its thrumming.
As time got shorter and we grew older,
We held the world within our hands.
While the beast sat waiting, contemplating,
Devising his odious plans.
His attack did not come swiftly
Like a bullet from a gun.
Once you realized he was lurking,
The damage was already done.
You tried valiantly to fight him,
This red devil concealed within,
As he thieved your hair and poisoned your blood,
And burned blisters on your skin.
You unleashed your own monsters upon him
In hopes of keeping him at bay,
But he only came back stronger each time.
 He refused to go away.
You battled him until the bitter end
As he drained you of your life.
Then he carried away my sister, my friend,
A mother, a daughter, a wife.
The creature moved on to stalk new prey,
Leaving so many questions unanswered.
How can we stop this malignant demon,
The beast we know as cancer?