#30 THE LAST GO-AROUND

Here it is!

the last round-up

the last go-around

the end of a chapter

the straw that broke my back

Your lack of love

your lack of caring or anything

remotely resembling gratitude

You have pilfered away your good health

your legacy and

your economic wealth

for the immediate pleasures of

Booze

Tobacco

and the lack of awareness they bring

I know it’s an illness

I know you can’t help it

I know the treatments didn’t work for you

But know this

Watching you go the same way as our parents

watching you in and out of hospitals

with life-threatening crises

bankruptcy and foreclosure

And the total disregard you have

for the consequences of your actions

has pushed my compassion to the brink

forced my psyche to go numb

and out of self-survival

made this

the last go-around for us

PAD 2014 #29 TWO FOR TUESDAY

MAGICAL AND REALISM POEMS

Magical Words

Sometimes what I consider magical

others decide is just coincidence

It behooves them not to believe in miracles

perhaps for fear of being disappointed

Magic happens in writing three pages a day

Poems show themselves, ideas, even

how to handle difficult relatives

Magic happened when I first started this

and wrote “Dear God” at the top

Then I didn’t need to,

because I knew He knew to Whom I was writing

Writing is often a 3-D printer from my head

I conceived the notion that I should play music

even though I was ‘too old’

used my credit card to buy a violin at 30

a sax at 50

and a full-sized harp at 59

in spite of arthritis and lack of education

and never once regretted those purchases

I complain about the weather, about my figure

about being pissed off at anybody and everybody

without the risk of having to defend it and

magically the rancor often disappears!

I write psalms about gratitude

unexpected prosperity, hopes, dreams

disappointments, failures, poor health

and depression

The magic is not in making them disappear

but in seeing it outside myself

and realizing each new challenge on my page

is merely the universe’s way of

giving me an opportunity for growth

REALISM POEM

WHAT’S REAL?

When I was a kid with a burst appendix

They gave me ether to remove it

The operation was a success

but the flashbacks from the drug lingered

and sometimes for no apparent reason

I would have spells where things didn’t feel

REAL

I would be conscious

I would feel pain

But I would be so distant from things

that they didn’t feel REAL

Thanks to Madeleine L’Engle

I can imagine a fourth dimension

without too much academic clutter-talk  

matter vibrating at different speeds

and the idea that life as we know it

might just be an illusion

This sweet illusion gives us experience

and distance from the experience

gives us objectivity and choices

But

reality is that

falling down a flight of stairs still hurts

hunger pangs are not fun

and you can get an ice-cream headache

if you eat it too fast

Still, escape from reality even if

only in our head

is sometimes better than what

IS

PAD 2014 #28 SETTLED

Like a big bag of potatoes

the weight of my body

has settled into lumps and bumps

that should never be there

My brain has settled into a rhythm

satisfied that I wake up every morning still

and gratified when the steam from

my first cup of coffee hits my nose

I read that the job of typist is extinct

so, no worries that my arthritic hands

will never type 100 words per minute again

and being basically unemployable

is a settlement I can live with

What I won’t settle for though

is a chair instead of a dance floor

someone hired to clean my house

silent musical instruments accusing me

that I skipped practice

and the lack of a voice to put things right!

RAINY DAY POEM that wrote itself

An especially rainy Monday

the best kind

with rain hurtling down every which way

cleaning windows that hardly ever get wet

and dropping from trees like a fountain

The streets are wet and shiny

the brown bark on trees turned to black

and the wind flings the tops of the trees back and forth

without a care for breaking branches

The birds are especially happy because

the poor worms must come to the surface for air

and all the green is bursting through buds and blades

and patches of dirt

PAD 2014 #27 MONSTER

One of the biggest monsters

in our little lives began with

the sound of Daddy’s car

pulling into the driveway

Would he come home in his good mood

where we would play “gotcha last”

running around, knocking things over

and having the time of our lives?

Or

would he come home in the bad one

where a stray sock on the floor

or a spoon in the sink

would set him off and we were lined-up

to get our “beatings” for our negligence?

PAD 2014 #26 FAKE OCEAN

PAD CHALLENGE 2014 #26 FAKE OCEAN

The wind was quiet for once
the snow had stopped falling
the sand was golden in the sun
and the mounds of snow
hugged where the coastline waves
tried to eat them up

Most folks with sense
don’t go to the beach in winter
but there we were, two of us
old fogies in parkas
half-lying, sitting in the dunes
looking down a deserted stretch of sand
not Bermuda or Hawaii or even Mexico
but Racine, Wisconsin!

And it was enough to quell that aching
yearning burning in my soul
that comes from living here
in a land-locked state
to see the endless blue sky
over a fake ocean missing only
the ocean’s taste of
potato chips on my lips

PAD 2014 #25 THE LAST STRAW

The loss of a thumb

is not too bad

especially on only one hand

it’s a bit more distressing

when the other goes too

your grip is down the chute

But

you still have eight fingers

though one is swan-necked

another is swollen quite badly

the real problem comes

when your wrists start swelling

and your shoulders hurt like the dickens

You still create music

if just a bit slower

you certainly won’t ever be great

and your typing crawls along

while fingers fly no more

and it’s a task just to get a space(bar)

If your ankles and knees don’t

want to hold your weight

you sit and you might become fatter

though you still move around

you don’t go very far

and try very hard not to complain

Up till now your back held out

you’ve been able to do what you can

but once the joints get inflamed

and the tendons start crying

that’s the day you stay in bed

and you wait for a sign

Nowhere do you go

your spirit stops soaring

your mind bogs down in pain

your life stands still

and you ask yourself

Why?????

when the weather is better

the house needs cleaning

your book needs revising

your horn needs playing

your garden needs planting

and you learn to stay in the Now

because you can deal with

one moment of pain

but not many

and then

you let the body heal itself

and you learn

patience

acceptance

and the loving kindness and compassion

from someone who cares

PAD APRIL 2014 #24 TELL IT TO THE…

24 I HAD TO TELL

When I was four I went to a wedding

Mom let me carry the pictures around

of the beautiful bride and groom

and all the guests dressed up

like Easter Sunday

I had to tell everyone all about it

When I was seven I made my communion

in a beautiful white dress and veil

just like the bride in the wedding

but before I could receive the host

I had to tell the priest all my sins

and I had to make some up

PAD 2014 #23 LOCATION

 

#23  TAKE YOUR PARTY WITH YOU

            WHEREVER YOU GO

It makes no difference where you are

It makes no difference where you go

You can be here on Earth or Mars

Take your party with ya, wherever ya go

A mansion out in Hollywood could be

The place that makes ya flow

Or a ranchero down in Mexico

Take your party with ya, wherever ya go

There’s that Swiss chalet up in the Alps

If ya sing you can hear an echo

Or down in the valley of the Jolly Green Giant

Just take your party wherever you go

Float lazily by la casa ‘neath a starry-studded sky

Singing all the words to “O Sole Mieee-oooohhhh”

No matter where you land at the end of the ride

Take your party with you, wherever you go

Eat au bon pain dan la rue des Paris

Wearing nothing but a chapeau

After a night of la vin et bon appétit

Take that party wherever you go

A party’s a party no matter where or how

Whether rich or you got no dough

Don’t need a plane ticket or crowd to follow

If you take your party wherever you go!

PAD 2014 #22 Optimistic and Pessimistic Poems

Two for Tuesday

MISGUIDED OPTIMIST

Some days I wake up and I’m all full of hope

I climb out of bed with a leap

I run down the stairs full of vigor and pep

And fall at the bottom in a heap

I immediately jump up

Dust myself down

And get back to the streak I was on

But I go back to bed when I open the box

And find the last doughnut is gone

WORD TO THE WISE

I’ve heard it said by many a one

that to ward off any bad luck

you expect much less than you might otherwise

and then things never really can suck

I’ve heard it said by many another

that it’s good to expect only the best

like a magnet you act to draw great things

and of course you get nothing less

But, I think it’s good to plan just a little

it’s good to dream a whole lot

it’s best to combine them with luck and good will

and mix opportunity into the pot

then you have to have courage

to ignore any snags

the will to keep moving on through

pessimists usually give up right away

optimists always CAN DO!

PAD CHALLENGE 2014 #21 Back to Basics Poem

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BASICS

I love fundamental

I also love plain

I love sturdy and functional

It’s the way of my brain

Don’t get busy or frilly

don’t add too much “bizzy”

if you make it expensive

it just makes me dizzy

I love clean lines and neatness

I love lots of space

give me plenty of ballroom

to show off my grace

don’t clutter with knick-knacks

to gather more dust

no fussy curtains or drapes

just a shade if you must

and the lighting I like

well, it has to be bright

no subtle low candles

no softening light

it’s just that I like

a place clear and plain

it feels good and comfy

and matches my brain!

PAD APRIL 2014 #20 FAMILY POEM

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FAMILY

Ahh mommy and daddy and

sister and bro

the immediates of the family we know

aunties and uncles and

cousins and kin

the extended part of the family we’re in

Some of ‘em we would never be friends

if we didn’t have bloodlines to share

and some of ‘em we don’t know what we

would do if we didn’t have them to care

after the hubbies and wifeys

in-laws come marchin’ in too

to make up a circle of family complete

where in the center is you

PAD APRIL 2014 #19 COLOR POEM

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BROWN

I hate brown

I know it’s the color of the dirt

that grows the plants

that give us food and H2O

I know it’s the color of chocolate

gravy, hamburgers, and

my lovely daughter’s eyes

that she inherited from my father

but

I still hate brown

the final color of the leaves in the fall

and dog pooh

and mousy hair like mine

the way the grass and trees look

when they are dormant

any other color, even gray

anything but brown!

PAD APRIL 2014 #18 WEATHER

CLIMATE CHANGE

Driving from southern Wisconsin

down to southern Illinois

it’s amazing the difference

in landscape

temperature

drivers’ courtesy

Southern Wisconsin streets are

congested

hard to maneuver and

if you don’t know where you’re going

you’re sure to find yourself

stuck up against dead-end streets

one-ways

and even the lakes!

Rolling farms give way to an edgy feel

approaching the “Welcome to Illinois” sign

accompanied by drivers going faster

seeming to need to be somewhere sooner

and bumping up against your rear-view mirror

zooming off in front of you when you pull over

then slowing down in your lane very soon after

What is up with that?

But there is nothing

like the wonderful feel

of open space

acres and acres of farmland

a horizon as big as God

with occasional houses, horses

little manmade ponds strung with RVs

and the “Guns for Life” signs

that leave a message in rhyme 

penned by a patriotic 

taking poetic license

PAD APRIL 2014 #17 POP CULTURE

POP CULTURE

Boom boom

Fizz fizz

Bang bang

Whiz whiz

That’s pop culture!

Twerk twerk

Rap rap

Work work

Bop bop

Pffftzzzzz

That’s pop culture!

Ching ching

Whang whang

Bling bling

Daaaaahhhannng

That’s pop culture!

PAD CHALLENGE APRIL 2014 #16 Elegy poem

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Goodbye Day

Each new day is born

With a return of the light

Each minute goes by

And then is out of sight

With a set of hours

Numbering twenty-four

The day goes by

With a new one in store

But the death of the day

And the birth of the day

Only come when the clock

hands stand straight up and say

It’s midnight

Hello day, goodbye day

PAD APRIL 2014 #15 TWO FOR TUESDAY

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LOVE AND HATE POEMS

LOVE

There’s a fire in my belly

burning, burning

I feel a pain so deep

it permeates each cell

deep in my bones

and running in my blood

It’s nameless

faceless

knows no bounds

lays me out when

I least expect it

reminds me

I’M NOT IN CONTROL

Could be love or could be hate

Depends on what the subject is

HATE

I hate lies

injustice, suffering

wasps, hornets and mosquitos

I hate cellophane wrappers you can’t open

quietly in a theater when you’re dying to cough

I hate boogie runners on anybody

supermarkets who don’t put on

enough cashiers at the busiest times

I hate taxes, parking garages that are full

getting to the theater late when

the only seats left are smack dab in the middle

I hate performers who take a 20-minute break

that lasts over an hour

the spinning beach ball when I’m

dying to post something or

waiting to see a cute video or

wanting to see a friend’s latest status

I hate dirty women’s rooms with only one stall

running out of toilet paper for that matter

red lights, people jumping red lights

rules that override common sense

temperatures below 20

being cold

losing one glove

locking myself out

but I love being able to hate

cuz dammnit, I’m good at it!

PAD CHALLENGE APRIL 2014 #14 IF I WERE…

 

“If I were king of the forest…
not queen, not duke, not prince” -

                       Cowardly Lion in
                       "The Wizard of Oz"

IF I WERE
 

If I were a different girl

if I weren’t me

and if I were rich

beautiful -

a fashion model even -

a 10…not a 9 or an 8 or a 4

instead of

the girl with “a lotta personality”

a wacky sense of humor

that witty way with words and puns

in an accent that stands out

like a gas explosion in the Midwest

and

if I were powerful

instead of

that invisible, middle-aged housewife

who speaks her mind in no uncertain terms

ignoring political correctness sometimes

and charging in because she cares -

cares so deeply that

passion sometimes overcomes sense!

Well, then things might be different -

 

But, even if I were a genie to myself

and could grant the wish to change

who I am and where I’ve been

I wouldn’t!

PAD CHALLENGE APRIL 2014 #12 CITY POEM

PAD CHALLENGE APRIL 2014 #12 CITY POEM

CITY WATER

The first time I stood
in the icy bullets
from the spray of an open hydrant

in 90 degree weather

in front of my best friend’s house  

it knocked me on my butt

into the street

Though there were no

well-manicured lawns
with rainbow sprinklers

playing pretty on the grass
a garden hose would provide

enough fun

for a whole summer’s day

until

we were old enough
to catch the bus for a dime
transfer to a train
all by ourselves
and spend a whole day

in the hot sand

and the wonderful freezy cold

of Revere Beach

PAD APRIL 2014 #13 ANIMAL SESTINA

              (1)

Mother nature take a bow

Plants, man and beasts

From the youngest calf

To the clouds that loom

And the fields covered in crap

I sing my song and I toot my horn

              (2)

As the music leaves my horn

Lilies in the field must bow

And the farmers spread the crap

A lowing is heard from a baby calf

The farmer’s wife sits at her loom

And the weather rains down on the beast

              (3)

It’s blowing and snowing, on all the beasts

Whether bare-headed or wearing horns

To protect their eyes their heads must bow

They want to get out of this crap

Safe in the barn is that baby calf

While outside thunderheads loom

              (4)

In a world where danger does loom

A mother cow moves close to her little calf

It’s the warmth and the food of the she-beast

And protection from the sounding horn

To reassure him her head she bows

And the weather outside is crap

              (5)

Manure on the field and dangerous crap

Out on the plains the coyotes loom

The mother cow readies her horns

Her feet are steady and her head in a bow

Undaunted, she is a very brave beast

Nothing will harm her newborn calf

              (6)

With an innate wisdom unusual in a calf

Who has already seen his share of crap

Knowing outside this barn dangers loom

He sidles and leans on his mother the beast

While she’s careful not to catch her horns

He leans in to suckle, his head bows

              (7)

In the barn with the bowing beast

Protecting calf from what looms

The world is crap and blowing horns

PAD APRIL 2014 #11 STATEMENT POEM

LET FREEDOM RING!

I LOVE FREEDOM –

That means free to write this whole poem in one long line if I choose and keep going until I run out of breath or finger strength or ink, or line width or imagination

I love freedom so much that

I will not quantify what someone

else’s freedom might or should

look like

I love freedom so much that

I think I would be on the frontline

yelling my head off

to show everyone they have freedom

to lead or follow

regardless of what the risk

I love freedom so much that

my lungs can’t yell loud enough

how great it is

I love freedom to breathe in

breathe out

And BE FREE

right here

right now

PAD APRIL 2014 #10 FUTURE POEM

PAD APRIL 2014 #10 FUTURE POEM

I HAVE SELFISH HOPES FOR THE FUTURE

I hope to be out of this city

living near water, taking walks with my crazy dogs

and then putting my feet into the waves afterward

I hope to be in a warmer climate

looking out my window at that body of water

that must have salt and waves and sun and wind and sand! 

I will sit on my porch with my coffee looking out over those waves

writing my stories, my poems, my articles, my statement on life

I hope to stay fit, eating a good diet,

supported by companionship with like-minded souls

I want to climb on my motorcycle

take little trips with my best friend and lover

I know that God throws me a few crumbs here and there

as if to say, “All is not lost”

you’ll get your wish not to spend your days

in a land-locked city

that trips over itself to place in charge

crazy people who think the world is going to end

unless they can control everything 

and don’t realize

history repeats itself and when the wheel goes around

they will “meet the new boss, same as the old boss”!

PAD 2014 #9 HOUSE

HOUSES

The first time
I consciously built a house
it was made out of pillows
Mrs. Kelliher’s daybed
with its black floral design
held a double row of perfect
overstuffed, matching pillows
just waiting for us to turn into a cave
where Mom couldn’t see us
and we couldn’t “hear her”
If she called to us from across the hall
“Time for bed!”
Mrs. Kelliher, sweet old lady colluding
with mischievous brats who, often
left her apartment in an uproar
would warn us
just before Mom’s patience
wore thin and became
a life or death warning!

Mrs. Kelliher had TWO decks of cards
A luxury for us
Many the hours we spent on her living-room rug
with “The Secret Storm” in the background
on the old black-and-white
and the diagonal lines of interference
running through the screen
Junior architects with rows of houses to build
some with second stories, the result of patience
and some with side yards
housing imaginary families and livestock
till big brother blew them down
and we were comforted with the freedom
of spreading copious amounts of honey
onto Nabisco graham crackers
till our elbows stuck to the table and
our hair stuck to our cheeks

PAD 2014 #8 TWO FOR TUESDAY

PEACE AND VIOLENCE POEMS

WHY THERE WILL NEVER BE PEACE

All people are different

God did that on purpose

In His lab one day, He mixed chemicals

heated them up and stood back

to see what would happen

His prescience got in the way

So He made Christ to pull the wool

over His own all-knowing eyes

attempted to make it “fair”

pretended He didn’t know how it would end

And let the fireworks begin

granted free will

and has never had a moment’s peace since

VIOLENCE

If all the mothers

Of all the children in the world

Got together

They could agree their sons and daughters

Would no longer make good collateral

For wars

If all the mothers

Of all the children in the world

Held their babies close

And refused to let the

world corrupt them, hurt them, ruin them

It might not end the violence in

all the world

But it would be a good start

PAD APRIL 2014 #7 SELF-PORTRAIT

See her sitting there
Feverishly pounding the keyboard
Pouring out her worries, cares
thrills, disappointments, successes,
dreams, aspirations, poems,
novels and narratives

Snoring next to her on a puffy quilt
the two rat terriers dream of
a long walk with new sniffs
and treats for after

The shiny tenor and alto saxes stand at attention
waiting to turn her breath
into sounds as sweet as birdsong
(at least to her ears)
The harp beckons, “Come strum”
and her favorite musician tempts her
with new gigs and opportunities

At the doorway
her lover and best friend beckons,
“Let’s ride our bikes like the wind”

Her ninety-six-year-old adopted mother calls,
“Let’s go shopping and get some lunch”

While on her face, the light from the window
where spring is pouring in
makes her almost pretty

PAD APRIL 2014 #6 NIGHT

#6  NIGHT

It was night

the leaves fell

the hour fell back

the snow fell

the holidays lifted spirits

before they fell again

 

And then the night dragged on

and on and on and on and on

until even skiers and snowboarders

fell into complaining and moaning

with the rest of us tenderfeet

And the hour sprang forward

the clouds moved away

the light came in again

ever so slowly

The warmth lifted us 

after being so cold 

for so long

in the darkness

PAD APRIL #5DISCOVERY

All fired up and nowhere to go
But here
My fingers on the keys, waiting, listening
For when the “gush” is finished messing
and the real stuff comes forward
Poems, stories, narratives
as new to me,
as anybody else who reads them,
I write as directed

The Muse waits for me to SHUT UP
start taking notes
The first few times this happened,
like a kindergarten kid, I would exclaim,
“Look what I did!” - so proud, so excited
fascinated and amazed.
And I actually believed it was MINE!

Fingertips on the keys and eyes on the screen
She is telling me NO, NONE OF IT IS MINE!
It belongs to the world
my only role is to disseminate
what is dictated to me

There are advantages to being held hostage:
I enjoy the process of hearing something
that hadn't occurred to me before
Feel relief that the job I do
frees me from all expectations and
I abdicate responsibility for what she says
(No I'm not schizoid, what makes you think that?)

PAD APRIL 2014 #4 SINCE YOU LEFT

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Since you left,

Goodbyes make me cry

Movies - where they part

Trips - regardless of who leaves

Graduations - it’s the endings that hurt

Death -the finality of the moment passing

Never to come again

I tell my heart

Each ending is a new beginning

The treacherous organ has learned

to circumvent my lies

with a tinge of resentment

Yet another parting, another farewell

Big or small

It matters not

Resentment turns to pain

And then the tears

The reminder that the scar

Ripped open over and over again

Is not a scar at all

(For scar tissue grows stronger than

the original skin it’s meant to replace)

But a wound that will never heal

PAD 2014 #3 WAKE UP!

Everything is dying because of your apathy

Your lack of compassion

Wake up from your slumber

Realize what’s right and good

Then do your best to stop

Stop contributing to the decay

Stop contributing to the corruption

Even little changes

make big results eventually

Do it for yourself

you will feel better

your guilt will melt away

you will receive new energy

as each decision yields correct results

decline to take part in the negative

Do it for the next generation

They so badly need to see a clear path

for their own lives

Do it!

You don’t want history to write that you sat by and did nothing

PAD APRIL 2014 #2 VOYAGE POEM

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JOURNEY OF THE LEGS

Learning to walk taught me not

to Fall

Learning ballet taught me

To be Graceful

Learning yoga taught me

To Breathe

Learning tai chi taught me

Balance

Learning belly dancing taught me

To be Sexy

Learning tap taught me

to be Joyous

Learning karate taught me

To Defend myself

Learning ballroom dancing taught me

To be Romantic

Learning to walk with arthritic knees

Taught me to be

CAREFUL!

PAD 2014 #1 BEG. AND ENDING POEMS

TWO FOR TUESDAY 
 

She was an angel

with kinky hair

smoothed-down by

sweet-smelling gel

A voice that rasped like

grinding gears

When a novice drives a stick shift

She could spot

the promise

the talent

the passion

the desire

she nurtured it by fanning her wings

and pushing the nestlings into the air

for their first flights

 

Don’t throw my ashes off the mountain

over the desert

in a river or a lake,

or even the ocean which I love so dearly

Don’t lay on food and sing songs

celebrating the person I used to be

And especially

Don’t lay me in a cushy casket

And surround me with the aroma of

those sticky sweet funeral blossoms

no speeches

no parades

no weeping

just let me go as though

it’s the most ordinary thing

to pass from one room to the next