Monday, July 15, 2013

Vertigo Verses: The Next Five Poems

A couple of weeks ago I shared the first five pieces from a chapbook I created for Robert Brewer's Poem-a-Day challenge.  Here are the next five poems.  Enjoy!

Bed Ridden

Tossing, turning she whimpers and moans through sleep
As I try to cradle her in stillness, holding my ground while she
Misperceives the floating feeling of endlessly falling from me.

Within these four corners I lay myself and there I keep
A vigilant embrace, holding and folding close enough
And still she jerks awake, her world become too rough.

Lifting her from a world that doesn’t shift, I let her grip
Holding onto the only things solid in her life, the slip
Of her world from solid to this endless, boundless trip.



Rhetorical Questions

What if I never get behind the wheel of a car
never have the freedom of the open road
and just stay here, not sure if I can
but never knowing I cannot.

What if the doctors and specialists are wrong
and it’s something else the multiple tests
failed to see that’s slowly, steadily
killing off essential parts of me.

What if Rob gets fed up with my many fears
drops my hand and won’t hold me anymore
when I feel like I’m forever falling
although everything is still solid.

What if my children are likewise damned
bound to get up unable to walk a straight line
genetically doomed to fall apart
just like their faltering mother.

What if this really is all in my head instead
and I’m just making it up as I go along
unaware that all I need to do
is pinch myself to wake up.

What if there is no waking up
and every day I spiral forever deeper into
a new circle of the hellacious dream
that will never release me.

What if there is a cure out there
not yet realized and I am forced to take
responsibility for myself
and my freedom.

What if the only cure is death
and I wake up too tired
not wanting to fight anymore
willing to die for my freedom.


Leaning

Betrayed by my body,
I am fragiled into leaning upon against
The strength of my children.

Years into decades of praying
To see them grown from
Girl to woman, boys to men.

Is this not the desire of every mother
To see her children capable and able
To stand on their own two feet?

The weight of my need as I lean
Does not cause them to stumble
And all I can say to them is

thank you.




Around the Water Cooler

Did you see her? The way she walked into the corner of the desk?
I hear she’s been drinking and during working hours no less.
Hard not to believe it, the way she stands as she hands off a folder.

I heard her say to someone else how she has this condition but
if you ask me it’s all a bit convenient, how she has to call in sick; although
I heard she has a doctor’s note, which can be forged and I still think she’s faking it.

I mean, give me a break. Who ever heard of someone being too dizzy
To sit at a desk all day? It’s so ridiculous. If you ask me, she’s full of shit.
Here I am having to cover her ass while she goes in for another test.

You know, I heard about somebody famous who said he had it too
But you know I read online and saw some Hollywood report where they said
He was wasted, not sick, which is what I think it is, really, with her so why should I
Buy into her story when we all know how much nicer it would be to stay home
All alone with nobody to tell you what you can do? I wish I were her, able to lie about
Some incurable condition that makes it necessary for me to be home all day.
Living off disability must be nice. She’s so fucking lucky, I wish I were her.




just words

“love is just another four letter word”
you roll away from me on the bed
I kiss the tattoo on your back while
you sleep too deep to be reached

in the morning you curl into me
I have to pull myself away
crawl across the light to escape
dreams left like roses on my pillow

the morning afterglow knows
there are never enough nights
to belie the truth of four letters
that fill the days we spend apart

words with you grow like fate,
faith, belief, promise, strength,
tomorrow, and tomorrow and
it all comes back to I do and yes.


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