I started writing poetry as a way of giving a meaningful, but inexpensive gift.  I was not bold enough to call what I did “Poetry.”  Some are a projection of my own experience or just complete fantasy.  I will publish more, but for now, these suffice to give a glimpse into my heart. I don’t write much anymore. It’s a shame… I think if I revised and refined, some of these poems could be really good.

 

Poems need to be written down even when they are not that good. The voice wants to speak. Maybe there is healing in being kind enough to listen.

 

I Miss You  (2017)

I miss you.

Funny, huh?

We don’t know

or ever knew each other.

I try to imagine

what it would feel like

to laugh

with you.

I try to imagine

your scent

that would remain

after we embraced.

I wish you could know

all that I suffered,

all that I lost,

and all the wonders.

I miss you.

The mother I never knew.

 

 

I consider this my finest poem:

A  Moment in the Sun  (2006)

I walked along my path one day

When something hailed my sight.

The search of loam and leaf-strewn way

Availed what honed the light.

There pressed beneath a fallen bough

A bloom too odd to miss.

It pledged a rare exotic show

I chose not to dismiss.

So carefully I set it free

From cage bars made of wood.

The sun, it seemed, infused for me

The strength I hoped it would.

My little bloom rose up to me

And filled my heart with joy;

I hadn’t felt such harmony

With nature since a boy.

Then suddenly I felt the sting

Of Autumn’s fervent storm.

The blackening clouds rolled in to bring

A burst of savage form.

I fled away as fast I could

For shelter to my room,

Then halt upon the threshold stood

Heart torn for my fair bloom.

My night was spent awake and fraught

With fear for what I’d done.

By my own hand did freedom wrought

Its moment in the sun.

At dawn the way was clear and bright,

I raced with desperate speed

Down sodden trail with hope in sight

And fears I would not heed.

I saw my bloom, I know not how

Prostrate upon the floor,

It hardly held a color now

So rich the day before.

Just how could nature compromise

Such beauty at its start!

There was no hope my bloom should rise

To cheer again my heart.

My soul, it cried aloud that day;

I wept for all that grieve

For hope they had to cast away,

For joys they’d never see.

Why would fate will me the power

That I should be the one

To give a rare and fragile flower

Its moment in the sun?

 

This Old House  (2012) 

At once arrested by the weight of time

And the glassy stare of a mounted sentinel,

I entered, as one who turns on a light,

To capture the moment history commences.

 

Breath caught fast, my stride faltered;

I thought my stay would be a long one.

No doubt indeed that I’d become

Yet another spirit in this old house.

 

Among the beams lie shadows

Of carefree minds and silent griefs.

The heady scent of a century alive;

Atoms shared by all who came before.

 

This dwelling has a voice of its own.

An ambling tour rouses protest.

The garrulous course of youth alone

Can quell the long run argument.

 

Sight and sound, form and flow

All want and lose their place;

With age imbalance is settled–

This vessel lists towards the dust.

 

I was only a sojourner here.

My brush will add a flourish

To the picture painted long ago.

This old house will outlast me.

 

 

For our Grandmother on her 104th birthday:  January 2016

 

We gather today to propose a small toast

To one who has lived far more years than most.

She has donned herself daily with style and flair

Her expression as fresh as her bright platinum hair.

She is quick to recount a laugh shared with friends,

Never succumbing to Time’s tireless trends.

You can look back at photos of dear “Mimi” Carr

And find her stare back like a Hollywood star.

Poised and well dressed with a smile on her face,

Admired for the sparkle she brought to a place.

For some people live and bring something for all

To take in and learn from and then later recall

How the key to good living is to simply have fun;

Let laughter chase tears, spurn rain for the sun.

Because life is a battle to match wits with the strong

And I think “Mimi” will tell you no day is too long

If it is spent with a loved one or a friend dear to heart,

For in the end that’s what keeps us and sets us apart.

Long life is for those who can keep up with the race,

And the Carr family knows who is still in first place.

 

 

Tumbleweed  (2008)

 

My limbs I spread with thorny care

Shade and shelter are found in me.

By all accounts my roots are deep

My arms they pledge sweet company.

For many come to rest or hide

Within my carefree knarly spread

While I abide through plenteous days

Without a thought for days ahead.

When famine strikes don’t look to me

To stay steadfast and anchor down.

I’m not what those would hope I’d be

I’m up! I’m off! I’m out of town!

 

The Night Light    (1999) rev. (2006)
At first I might appear quite plain,

The odd-sort-of gift one might disdain,

But, if you read along, I’m sure you’ll see

There’s a greater kind of depth to me.

So before you lay my box aside,

I’ll tell you what’s in store inside…

 

I am, at first, your amber light

To cast a softer glow at night–

Your eyes shall meet across the bed

My golden light, a radiance shed.

There’s nothing that can quite compare

To the tingly rush of love you share.

 

But then, your amber light shall change

As room to room you rearrange–

Your home shall open unto another

As you grow from wife to mother.

 

Then, I will become your steadfast friend,

A faithful guide at journey’s end;

I’ll give the softest kind of light

As you comfort babies through the night.

I’ll watch you as you stumble back,

And bid you strength for sleep you lack.

 

Again, another job I’ll take

As babies grow and children make

A sleepy trip down ambered hall:

My trusted light shall lead them all.

I’ll be to them a grateful sight–

A friendly glow in the midst of night.

 

Perhaps I shall be moved again

As your children age; the way of man.

Then my glow will light the way

Of young adults who cannot stay

Inside the home where they grew strong

Led by silent vigils long.

 

You may marvel how you ever thought

Life was simple when it is not,

And look at me and think it’s fair

To store me away, just anywhere

So you won’t have to pine or yearn

For youth departed– Wait; listen; learn–

 

I was there to watch you grow-

I’ve seen you reap; I’ve seen you sow.

No one knows your quiet pain

As no one’s seen you rise again.

 

I know how your heart has bled

For souls placed in your care and led

Your loved ones through as best you could

Amidst trials dark and changes good.

Could you cast away all you’ve been through

Like outgrown toys; am I that to you?

 

Your amber light, my body cast

To be your helper through the past–

At last, my dear, my role shall be

To turn your fading eyes to me

As then my warm and golden light

Will bring you comfort in the night.

 

 

Tribute to Carson (2006)

The heart, indeed is a lonely hunter;
It panteth after it knoweth not.
Breathless it rends the mind asunder
Its mournful cry in every thought.

Who can rest from its daily toil?
Imaginations don’t soothe the pain;
From righteous peace it doth recoil–
Hunger’s assault prevails again.

O! To be free from such a curse!
This longing ache for something not.
The famished heart bears something worse
Than death by vainest battles fought.

Tell, O tell this ravening beast
There’s nothing left but what’s before
Beat back these restless pangs at least;
The heart’s but flesh, and nothing more!

 

For E. St. V. M. (2006)

I, a sputtering candle,
seem innocent enough–
Dare to snuff me out,
and I quickly call your bluff.

 

Ode to Chocolate (2008)

My deep and dark and craved lust
Who would suspect your hold on me?
Your sweet caress, one dose a must
For every day– I wait for thee.

How furtively I sneak away
To cradle you upon my tongue.
In secret I return each day,
All burdens fall, my cares are flung.

Once more I rise on scented bliss;
My peace begins upon your touch.
I dream, I drink your sugared kiss–
Can lovers fair give one so much?

Awash with pleasure, rich and smooth
Could I be lone in this escape?
From flowing warmth I halt to move
Wary to slight your fleeting shape.

I know, my love, you soon shall pass
from hungered lips to melt away-
Return I to my life and task
Left charmed again by you today.

 

Errant Landing (2006)

Coward! Coward! Thou art he
Who shot a dove encircling thee–

Love and hope were fashioned by
A fair young flyer bound to try
To spread a wing and shield you
From midnight’s dark and morning’s dew.

An offering made as friend to friend
Still met a rather tragic end–

For doves are witless, vain and poor
To think that peace frames every door
To every heart one happens by
When first learning how to fly

Hope was vanquished on that day
You shot a dove and walked away.

 

To W. John Bohnert UCLA Class of ’86

I shall never forget you; as I live,
Rarely a day passes that I don’t give
You, a fair measure of my thought
As I long yet, to tell you, who once taught
A reckless, wild, careless girl love thrives
In the most unexpected places and lives.
And we, who feign indifference only lack
The means that duly lend just payment back
For an act of chivalry midst greedy men-
A glimpse of kindred spirits witnessed then
In the night of debauchery– you spared me
From my clouded judgment and certainly
Shame. For I awoke, my head upon your chest,
Unscathed; refreshed– and fully dressed.

 

Surveillance

I watched you
then I wondered
Were you following–
or just behind?
You passed me
then I wondered–
Were you watching
just behind?

 

A Thought

A newly finished poem
is like a newborn baby–
You keep running back to it
to see if it’s still breathing.

 

The Orphan’s Lament

As I lay me down at night

My eleven years fall far from sight

And all I know is how I lay–

Stony-faced; a castaway.

My hands, they lie across my breast

Like a corpse in peaceful rest;

My hair folds down around my head–

A lovely pose upon the bed.

My legs, so weary as they’ve tread

Through the noisome day and led

Me back to where I long to stay–

A cold and quiet form I lay.

My blood, I feel it surge and slow;

I will my heart to cease its flow

So pain will fade and life give way;

My journey ends at close of day.

At last, I think upon my peers

Who suffer on through labored years

As I am free to sink away

Into the depths of death– I lay.

I drift along on ebon sea

There’s nothing left to tether me

To this world I’ve toiled to bear

I rise, a weightless mist on air.

Finally, there’s hope for me

In the arms of Eternity!

But lo! Upon my cheek a ray!

Cursed! I live!  Another day!

 

 A Love Poem

My eyes hide a smile that flutters –

One ardent hint of secret love.

On passing, you’d think we’d never met

But, the just perceptible pause you make

Before you continue on, betrays us.

We open doors; mine out, yours in

And the hall is silenced with the loss.

But the air is all awhirl

And so too, are we.

 

Creativity

O blade of grass so straight and true

I want the power that strengthens you-

I want to reap what God has sown

And yield the fruit that I have grown.

Infuse me God with thy embrace

And let me live within thy grace-

In the pulse of thy radiant light

My art revealed within your sight.

For all it is You ask of me

Is to be true and selflessly

Admit my life was divinely set-

Your will bestowed upon me yet.

Though lost among the verdant sprawl

A blade of grass can still stand tall

And feel the tug of God’s own hand

Raise it up from barren land.

 

Boundless

Who does love so strangely

as I do?

The putrid scent of a man

lying on the sidewalk

Accosting my senses

with a start–

Looking up to meet

his closed eyes.

The rush of tears that

carries my heart away–

Then, the scream

of a spoiled child

And the angry pleas

of a hopeless mother–

These have I loved

and do love.

 

Our Cup     (2007)

Elixirs range in strength and hue

Some even rather bad for you.

But one among them holds the key

To mornings fair the most for me–

I’m not myself without this brew

(I might be even mean to you)

So without delay I’ll state my case:

Fresh brewed coffee wins first place.

The scent alone can raise my lids

And make me friendly to my kids.

To share a cup with friends can be

An enchanting sort of treat for me.

Yet, often we are found to drink

Our steaming mug alone to think

How quickened minds can soon be ready

To face the day prepared and steady.

We meet again what life brings on

Full of hope when the last drop’s gone

And confidence that comes from knowing

Our cup is full to overflowing.

For we have friends whose love is true

Who’d never turn their back on you

Good friends who give that little shove

That gets us moving; that touch of love.

Which brings me to this little fact

A special part of this daily act-

There’s no better way to drink it up

Than from a dear friend’s coffee cup.

 

The Ant                           (2008)

O watch me now so carefully-

A model of true industry.

I work by day and watch by night

Devoted to what’s good and right.

My life is spent alone to give

All I can so others live

In safety, warm and richly fed;

My instinct reigns inside my head.

For selfish aims I’ll never stray-

So pardon me, you’re in my way.

 

The Ladybug            (2008)

I held you once upon my hand,

Your little steps were light and fast.

I let you march and watch me stand

Your master as the minutes passed.

I thought how clever I should be

To hold you captive, my will obey;

I’d take you home to play with me-

Then with a bite, you flew away.

 

The Gift     (2009)

A lost and dying star struck

The frozen hull, its core embedding.

Warmed but wounded by the blow;

A glacial wall becomes a torrent.

The upsurge drowns the querulous cry;

Momentary calm before a headlong flight.

New paths to forge through uncharted thought.

Celestial beings cast new and bound

By what was and is and what must be.

Nestled in the bearing of emerging stars

Donning pebble orbits, a new journey begins…

 

 

This poem was written about me when I was 19 years old.

SELFISH

You are to me beyond unique.

I want to kiss your lips with style–

With style not swift, but slow, for weeks.

Your every move has made me smile.

I know you know that you I seek.

I’m tattered, tried to telling trial!

But look! I see a selfish streak–

We all must wait in single file?

Your eyes of fire, to me they speak

Of something not like hopeless vile

Await; your means, they seem oblique:

I cannot tell from truth or guile.

You’re like volcanoes, full to peak

Of safe solutions spewing while

Pathetic plans you build to bleak

Conditions.  Any question I’ll

Sure wager you’ve an answer,  Sneak

Away and leave–you can not rile

Me when I am alone I reek

Of loneliness–Now, I’ll beguile

To you!  I’ll wear my sick mystique

So like a mask I’ll play shy I’ll

Pretend to feign to be a freak.