you look at us grown ups
as if we know our stuff
but really we are playing,
getting by our days in
our mixed-up, chocka-busy ways
praying and hoping it’s our heyday
NaPoWriMo Day 22: a poem to a child
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a showing up
Stay good, stay pristine
and you won’t give me a showing up.
Stay silent, don’t move,
and I won’t need to show you why you’re sorry.
Stay mine, don’t have an opinion,
and I won’t slap you around my table.
Stay perfect, don’t pull your ribbon out,
and I won’t need to adjust you in public.
Stay close to me, don’t challenge me,
and I won’t need to give you a showing up.
This poem is for NaPoWriMo Day 20, challenging us to write in the voice of a family member. This is from my abusive mother.
NaPoWrimo Day 19: Lazarus Jewel Box
My jewel box of belief
has rubies for passion
sapphires for grace
diamonds for strength
and emeralds for love.
The jewel box in my heart
sparkles and saves me.
reflections on a cross
Today’s the day of the cross.
A chance to separate truth from dross.
‘Cos before you find true meaning,
you have to get yourself lost.
a sense of swimming
Up my nose, the chlorine sticks its doses:
like a spell, it lulls me and it woos me.
Through my eyes, her swimmers’ arms balletic:
elbows up, calves strong, her heart is centric.
To my ears she swishes through the blueness:
slicing splash, swishing aim, fingers’ trueness.
This poem is for Day 17 of NaPoWriMo, challenging me to write about three of the senses.
Lies about loss
You’ll get over it.
You’ll learn to live with it.
She had a good innings.
It was a blessing in the end.
She was a good mother
You should forgive her.
She didn’t know any better
She couldn’t help but batter
A reflex raised her voice.
She had no choice.
my full moon
my full moon is pure and proud
in defiance of what’s not allowed
it knows its time is short but bold
everyone looks, in awe to behold
the perfect roundness, circle cute
all knowing, feeling, cool, astute
NaPoWriMo Day 14: why me, why this, why now?
Why now is this happening to me?
Why to me is this happening now?
Why is this happening to me, now?
The answers could take a lifetime.
NaPoWriMo Day 13: a kenning
My daughter does splash love.
I call it sweat dew.
The time: it is length day.
She wins: it is gold shine.
a poem for adrenaline
You give me a tickly tummy
when I’m ready to race.
I try not to be scared of you,
knowing you’ll up my pace.
You make me feel sick sometimes.
You always bring along some dread
that I won’t be able to perform.
I fear coming last instead.
So, how can I use you to guide me,
to help me think positive things?
Cos surely the butterflies you send me
are there to give me wings…?
inktuition 