Poetry for Bridgid
This is, I think, the seventh year of the Poetry Slam in honor of Saint Bridgid's Day ... or Brighid's Day, Imbolc. It's, I think, my third year of participating, and probably only the second poem I've written in that time.
Found poem from memery: Unexpected losses
In a vest-pocket kitchen
yesterday morning pouring tea
your silver-haired haunting reminds me
the choices I make:
book, office, sailing,
which ones keep my dementia at bay
which ones lead me deeper into sleep
driving young authorship
suburbs grandkids
weaving my future
stripes more fun than plaids, but simpler
‘my’ cat (what is thy bidding, my owner?) trips greedily around my ankles
she doesn’t notice what I’m not wearing:
red. bra. wedding ring. hair.
instead a black jacket
steadfast short powerful severe
I miss ‘vivid’ but it is missing, as are you
I want a gin and tonic, but am carefully caring for myself
drinking seltzer, tea, or milk
I want a coach and four but am slowly piloting my econosedan around town anyway
a borrowed book keeps me focused
away from the newly dead
sloth reaching for my feet
writing sisters offer but everything I read seems one-dimensional
I keep looking for permanent magic
the will to wear red again
unplanned complex reflections
the focus of a writing life
but instead
I am eating tapioca
from a plastic cup
foolish pride about 1986
sleeping supine instead of prone
emptying dishwasher quickly accurate
ex boyfriend dead 30 years later
last chance two kinds
the first Hartford Symphony or the last opera at the Met
Norway maple shedding branches
outside a window full of snow
I want to be planning worship
but instead I’m talking on the phone
“not at all,” I say, “or only once”
New Haven
several times new ideas
lime cherry very simple
many colors master's brilliant
If I leave the door ajar will the cat come home?
he wanted all or nothing
but I would have none of it
yesterday I was
remembering making love in the park in 1981
working on my novel
packing altar objects for camp
when we got married our three kids took turns pulling the bell-rope
joyous ringing over the whole town
now I look up when he walks in naked
“too hot in here for clothes, huh?”
after a long moment he replies
“not really -- but I needed to empty my pockets”
doesn't anybody think before speaking
the check was in the mail
seltzer, tea, tea for two
I would rather be watching the sun rise
tomorrow
up at 6 am
breakfast, change the oil, load the car
drive away
Friday
driving from Brushwood to Clairmont
“What are you reading?” she asks me
I don’t know how to tell her:
A Beginners Guide for the Recently Deceased
---- NorthLight, Imbolc 2012
Found poem from memery: Unexpected losses
In a vest-pocket kitchen
yesterday morning pouring tea
your silver-haired haunting reminds me
the choices I make:
book, office, sailing,
which ones keep my dementia at bay
which ones lead me deeper into sleep
driving young authorship
suburbs grandkids
weaving my future
stripes more fun than plaids, but simpler
‘my’ cat (what is thy bidding, my owner?) trips greedily around my ankles
she doesn’t notice what I’m not wearing:
red. bra. wedding ring. hair.
instead a black jacket
steadfast short powerful severe
I miss ‘vivid’ but it is missing, as are you
I want a gin and tonic, but am carefully caring for myself
drinking seltzer, tea, or milk
I want a coach and four but am slowly piloting my econosedan around town anyway
a borrowed book keeps me focused
away from the newly dead
sloth reaching for my feet
writing sisters offer but everything I read seems one-dimensional
I keep looking for permanent magic
the will to wear red again
unplanned complex reflections
the focus of a writing life
but instead
I am eating tapioca
from a plastic cup
foolish pride about 1986
sleeping supine instead of prone
emptying dishwasher quickly accurate
ex boyfriend dead 30 years later
last chance two kinds
the first Hartford Symphony or the last opera at the Met
Norway maple shedding branches
outside a window full of snow
I want to be planning worship
but instead I’m talking on the phone
“not at all,” I say, “or only once”
New Haven
several times new ideas
lime cherry very simple
many colors master's brilliant
If I leave the door ajar will the cat come home?
he wanted all or nothing
but I would have none of it
yesterday I was
remembering making love in the park in 1981
working on my novel
packing altar objects for camp
when we got married our three kids took turns pulling the bell-rope
joyous ringing over the whole town
now I look up when he walks in naked
“too hot in here for clothes, huh?”
after a long moment he replies
“not really -- but I needed to empty my pockets”
doesn't anybody think before speaking
the check was in the mail
seltzer, tea, tea for two
I would rather be watching the sun rise
tomorrow
up at 6 am
breakfast, change the oil, load the car
drive away
Friday
driving from Brushwood to Clairmont
“What are you reading?” she asks me
I don’t know how to tell her:
A Beginners Guide for the Recently Deceased
---- NorthLight, Imbolc 2012