Sometimes, you're in a hard place, and you write a poem to help you get your head right. Sometimes, a friend is in a hard place, and you write a poem to get their heart right. Here's a couple. Have you ever been there?
*************
by Gabrielle
My Brief SI
Sometimes
I sit in the car
and think about
turning it on
and letting it run.
Warming it up
to take me on a trip
to another place
away from these troubles,
these problems I can't solve.
I sit in the driver's seat
and smoke a cigarette
looking at the cinderblock wall
in front of me
and the closed garage door
behind me
and think
about turning it on
and letting it run...
but I guess
I'm not
done packing
yet.
*************
by Marianne
Dakota’s School Days
He speaks in whispers,
Not wanting to be rude.
His gestures timid,
Not daring to intrude.
Heart-breaking sadness.
Eyes glistening with pain.
Hoping for approval,
He knows he’ll never gain.
Born in such a hurry.
Smaller than the rest.
Grew up much to slowly.
Great scars upon his chest.
A host of medical conditions.
Operations saved his heart,
But what about his spirit?
It can’t be written in a chart.
He’s the different son.
Not the All Star one.
Homework is never done.
Tragic life may come undone.
Scratching till he bleeds.
He sees Doctors, Psychoanalysts.
He’s too young to understand.
What cruel curse is this?
When anger finally explodes in class,
No calm voice or loving embraces.
Only stern words, cold hard stares,
To fuel the fire as it RAGES.
Marianne Fuchs
March 26, 2008
4 comments:
I am appreciating what a wonderful medium, poetry provides for all of us...to see inside a person's being-where no spoken word could possibly bring structure to the exquisite and profound feelings of the heart.
thankyou G. and M.
Marianne - why is the last word in capitals?
The last word is in capitals to emphasize the turmoil I know Koty must feel when he is being overlooked. I just feel in my heart that he experiences turmoil that then turns to RAGE!
All he wants is a little love and approval, just like everybody else. But he is not an easily likable kid. He's not the athlete. He's not a scholar. He's small, his ears are too big and his voice is unpleasant due to a speech defect. He usually has several sores because he scratches obsessivly. He's the kid no one wants to see.
He is the son of one of my friends and I love him because of these problems. I wish you could see the light shinning in his eyes when I pay a little bit of attention to him.
I taught him how to use a hammer when his Mom and I were creating our Hunted House last Halloween, and you would have thought I had devoted a lifetime to him the way he followed me around that day.
He's not very good at computer games, so most people pretend not to notice what he's doing, but I'll sit with him and let him tell me all about them. The look of love I get in return is priceless.
Thanks for asking. Obviously I had a lot more to say about my little buddy.
Marianne
Gabrielle,
I'm very glad your not done packing yet. I want to get there before you to make sure everything is as nice as you deserve. And I'm not going to be ready for a long time. I've got way to much baggage to pack myself!
Love, Marianne
Post a Comment