All Hallows

Blow out the jack-o-lanterns.
Put tired children to bed
in costume bits, capes for blankets.
Clean kitchen and eat chocolate.
Keep the light on and try to deny
the hollows, the hallows. Outside
the waxing moon knows the veil is thin.
Death rides close tonight.

Glimpse

Carved crooked grin.
caught flickering light
bloody image of wine bottle
smashed on sidewalk
thump of head, death gurgle
as someone's son died in gutter.
Image vanished fast as it came.
just a jack-o-lantern

Writer's Block

so easy to construct
tile by tile
too busy
too tired
too worried
not in the mood
muse absent
not good enough
depressed
don't feel good
family needs me
people might see me
people might not

Never Big Enough

Big you say
I'm big.
I'm fast.
so fast.
I'm strong.


Help me you say.
Hold me.
I'm afraid.
Keep me safe.
I'm little

Same for me sixty
as for you at two.
I'm big, strong,
competent, brave.
Please God keep me safe.

Cardiology Waiting Room

I see gray walls,
gray chairs, gray heads.
Paintings monotone.
Faces tired, bored.
I imagine red blood pulsing.
hearts beating out the history
of lives remembered, lived,
hopes and dreams still strong.
I want to paint gray walls with
sunshine, open ceiling to stars,
laugh, cry, record evey story,
live hard and happy until we die.

You Sleeping

I see you sleeping
in pile of bright pillows,
shining hair fanned out
in pale early light,
breaths even, quiet,
all promise, potential.
Dreams seem so real
in the morning.

Unsettled

Waves and currents
toss and tangle
lines of connection
with beloved, divine.
Hell. I can't even
find my purse or shoes.
World swirls unmanageable.
I force slow breaths,
hands open, feet on floor.
I remind myself nothing
is really wrong. No one died.
The pantry is full. No one
is shooting at me or mine today.
Still I fight to move, to stand
against waves and currents
I don not see or understand.

Coming Home

Our troops are coming home from Iraq
some of them. Some will not come home.
Our troops are coming home from Iraq
hurt, strengthened, weakened, changed.
Our troops are coming home from Iraq
war scenes embazoned behind eyelids.
Our troops are coming home from Iraq
women,men who sacrificed to protect us.
Our troops are coming home from Iraq
No more shock and awe, airport hugs.
Our troops are coming home from Iraq
to bqby kisses,new dangers, strangers.
Our troops are coming home from Iraq
politics aside, too late, too soon, irrelevant.
Our troops are coming home from Iraq
We welcome them, thank them, let them in.
Our troops are coming home from Iraq
Some of them. Some will not come home.

Do Not Tolerate Me

Better than genocide, Jim Crow,
Better than border walls, insufficient.
Tolerance still looks down its nose.
Do not tolerate my Jewish holidays, funky
clothes, liberal politics, fear of flying.
If I offend you, upset you, shock you,
pleace tell me, ask me, work to know me.
I promise you same interest, same respect, interest.
I will not rule you out because you have
a pierced nose, wear a crucifix, vote Republican.
Tolerance is insufficient. I want to stand nose
to nose on common ground and see each other clearly.

Lost (for Vice/Versa)

In silence
guilt echoes.
No sound, be it
roaring sea,
cheering crowd,
laughing music,
can restore peace
of innocence lost.

Root

Prayer is my tap root,
drawn ever deeper
into the heart of
Divine Mystery.

Where is God?

In every choice,
one way. or any other.
Trick is discernment.

Poems on Female Parts

This week the prompts in my writing group were all related to "female" body parts, and though I didn't have much trouble writing the poems it was a challenge to decide whether to post them here - so personal. But isn't all poetry personal? Why fear more to share about my body than my spirit, mind, or emotions. So here goes.

Blood Rite

Menstruation links women
through inconvenience,
discomfort, shared mystery,
possibility of pregnancy,
hope for continuation of species.
Across the generations,
menstruation links women.

Nest

I still see my uterus as a nest,
fallow now, no longer feathered
with fresh red blood, not ready
to shelter new life, nest still.

For Granted

Before you were infertile,
I took my ovaries for granted
They made eggs like clockwork,
released one each month,
let babies begin inside me.
A generation later, I am
thankful for working ovaries.

Ectopic

Embryo implanted
in right fallopian tube,
ectopic, life-threatening.
I held you while you sobbed,
pregnant with death.



Breasts


I love my breasts,
remember them young,
standing like silver pears
shining in spring moonlight,
shy, admired, adored
awaiting first love's lips.


I love my breast.s,
remember them full,
life sustaining fountains
suckled by hungry mouths,
heavy, warm, needed,
fed my babies.

I love my breasts,
warm pillow for late talk,
familiar as autumn colors,
soft in your hand, tender,
satisfied, well used,
give comfort still.

Gate


My vagina is a gate,
Life force in
Life force out

Clitoris

Power word for seat
of female orgasm.
Out of the shadowy
mist, down there.
Women like sex too.