My father called me “woke” last night
He meant it as a derogatory term
Just as you would call a dog stupid for not listening
I listened
Flinched
But will not bow
The way he taught me to
Tag: Everyday Poetry
No. 28
Back to days unsalted
Illness sucked me into a microcosm of life
Focused on breath, on death, on survival
Uninspired when the view goes long again
Thoughts of war trickle in
And I weep
No. 27
Ah, the illness passes
I stand
Only to find a weakness lingers
A slide back into symptomatic
A slide back into sleep
Yet I am better than before
A poor cry amid the world’s turning
No. 26
Quarantined and sick
I find the back of my eyelids amusing
I, tucked into bed,
Joints sore and askew
The cold room a delight
Thick blanket half wrapped around my frame
feet exposed
Kick dance
And breathe through my mouth
As if to say
Hallelujah, Life!
I live and live again
No. 25
The rain-lace twists over the windshield
tat tat tats away
Age spins the same web
Creases ribbons of skin
My hand shakes slightly with its rhythm
Tat
Tat
Tat
No. 23
Been stretching with my days
Rolled up in bed and sullen
My family is my anchor
Without them I’d brush away in the next storm
Depression isn’t the feeling in the deep down quiet
It’s nothingness
And this worries me in the places I don’t need to smile
No. 21
Finished The Gorilla and The Bird
about a lawyer experiencing psychotic breaks brought on by bipolar disorder, and his supportive mother Bird:
I turn over the sticks and stones in my life
Searching for the creeping problems
To cage in a mason jar
And turn into art
Smells of ether and vomit and deaths
In the small room where I write
No. 18
The whirring fan annoys me
I am a hot nerve today
My hands twist and shake
As the exposed wire crisps
Curtains frame a world washed gray
His heavenly blue eyes bounce
From me to the window
My husband broad-shouldered and kind
Purses his lips
But says nothing
He senses the pain in my creased brow
Smells dampness in my soul
Grins
As if to say
We’ve got this me and you
No. 17
I play fetch with Basil
Our lab mix- white with orange spots
Her warm musty breath
Caught by my outstretched hand
I clutch her worn toy
Marinated in outside smells
Then throw it harder than I mean to
Knocking over an empty tea bottle
And laugh
For joy is flowing
My other dog
Our lab mix- black with white dusty muzzle
Curls into her bones on the couch
Huffs softly with her
Two tooth smile
No. 16
Daughter’s friends are over
They laugh on the couch
After building a puzzle
I have an internal smile
As I listen to their happiness
I yawn without meaning to
As I watch the time
AbyKittiwake 