Home » Poetry (Page 2)
a migrant child in foreign lands
an unplanned birth, the world expands
to join with ours his storyline
unite the human and divine
yet still we struggle, cannot see
divine-ness in humanity
so Christmas comes, we try anew:
see you in me and me in You.
Divorce was finally finalized
Their love not reconciled.
Those differences hurt most of all
José, their pre-teen child.
José had heard the arguing,
The sobs of desperation.
His innocence still hoped and prayed
For reconciliation.
The hardest part: When dad moved out,
When weekends had to change.
He loaded up his duffle bag
For mom and dad’s exchange.
Routine set in, his grades bounced back,
This cycle was his life.
The system changed when spring came round
And with it dad’s new wife.
For mother’s day he bought two shrubs:
(He showed no hesitation)
A shrub for mom, and dad’s new wife.
Just right for this occasion.
So can you guess these perfect plants
José astutely chose?
They smelled as sweet by any name:
The Northern pink Shrub Rose.
The rose lies still through winter’s winds
And grows in summer’s heat.
The flowers bloom from May through fall
To give the bees a treat.
But most of all this perfect gift,
The rose, resembles love.
With beauty deep and thorns that stab,
You sometimes need a glove.
Wind-lifted
Words soar
What’s left
is the wind
‘Twas almost vacation and throughout the school
While kids were frenetic, the teachers were cool
A few students traveled but most were still there
To finish December with ganas and flair.
Assessments completed and conferences done
This last week of learning was different, was fun
ManageBac housed all the comments, each grade
The teachers drank coffee. The children? They played-
They argued at 4-square, though no one was mean;
They gossiped of summer- The beach! What a scene!
They played (it was recess), they hadn’t a care.
They knew their escuela would always be there
Then one of the students she noticed the time
The teachers were missing, the bell didn’t chime.
The counselors, Katie and Rox, disappeared
With Sandra and Rosi and Victor. How weird!
“Should we be worried?”
“Or should we be scared?”
Some started screaming but mostly they stared.
When up on the bridge there arose such a noise
That it grabbed the attention of girls and the boys.
First Flores, and, Dierkes then Reeves and Bené
Ms. Mincha and Uchi, Ms. Wiley, Ms. Lay,
Ms. Delia, Wellner and Page, Hollowáy
Ms. Emily, Fuller, McGlothin and Rae.
They stomped on the bridge and they stomped really loud
The rest of us teachers we joined in the crowd.
We sang for the kids and we danced way up high
They applauded for us then we chanted goodbye-
“The time is 12:20, it’s time for vacation
“Go travel! Go Read!” we sang with elation.
“Your work is now done here we’ve journeyed quite far
“Don’t’ stop and play 4 square, Go get in your car!”
The children all cheered as they said their goodbyes
They raced to their rides a bit older, more wise.
We waved to each bus as they drove out of sight-
Great vacation to all and to all a good night.
Come dance with me
Guess who I’ll be
At the ball of masquerade
You’ll see my face
That I’ll replace
I dance my grand charade
Come listen once
Dear brilliant dunce
It’s true this love I feign
Sweet nothings slur
Words lovely blur
Cause pain, no choice, remain
**********
The trust that’s gone
May come at dawn
A principle election
The words you hear
Are cloudy clear
Choose where you place affection
The dreadful evening news is filled with ills
Her gleaming eyes of planes that never land
The talking heads fill space ‘tween selling pills
And finish with cute puppies in the sand
Analysis is often hard to find
The whys and wherefores hidden in a cloud
But Sunday’s sales will mollify the mind
The deals! They’ll make a killing, feeling proud
Though sometimes there’s a tone that resonates
I take a breath and turn attentive ears
A problem I can tackle for me waits
Solutions not in months but many years
One more starfish thrown into the sea
The journey matters both for them and me
In her poem, The Summer Day, Mary Oliver asks,
Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?
Well?
___Ask the
Question. Not the
I got you
Question nor the
I’m smarter than you
Question. Ask the
Tell me who you are today?
Question. Ask the
What’s difficult?
What’s the best, most interesting?
What’s surprised you?
Question. Ask the
Tell me more about…
Question. Not the judge, jury nor executioner
Question but the
___build community and understanding
Question.
Answers are not lions (but may be thorns).
Answers are doors.
___Share your
Answers. Then ask another
Question.
She was love
and she was loved.
Some people represent home
that feeling of welcome
the warm embrace
whenever
wherever
She was one of those people who
don’t have to do or
create or
cook or
go out
or… or… or
Just be
Just be love
radiate love
Laugh heartily
In conversation
Share the stories
Call you out
And in
In all of your OK-ness
just as you are
as she is
So it is
So she will be missed
A broken skateboard on the ground
was days-old trash until I found
some greased ball bearings deep within.
Thought I’d take ‘em for a spin.
I grabbed a vice grip and a pliers
and pulled apart the useless tires.
When I got the needed part
was when my project I could start.
My sister drinks a lot of juice-
her bottle caps I put to use.
In three red caps I placed a dime
and filled with clay to save some time.
The fourth red cap- I had to cut
away the top and leave a rut
around the middle without tearing
the place I’d put the greased ball bearing.
But still my project wasn’t done
I went to get my grandma’s gun
(a gun for glue, so don’t you worry).
I pegged the pieces without hurry.
So now the part I really hate
the glue sets slow so I must wait.
My patience pays off in the end.
Participating in the trend
I rush to show it to a friend.
He laughs and asks what did I spend?
“Designed and built with nothing new!”
He pauses, asks, “Can I …
… build one too?”
S. T. Fleming 