Every Friday I play a song for my kids and pass out the lyrics, too, so they can follow along and think about them. Last week, the lyrics were so simple and superficial so I said to them, "I could write better song lyrics than this!" I tried. Well...it's not that easy!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The Wedding
Our friends were getting married
And we fought about the gift.
I suggested silverware
But you were for a fifth.
I rolled my eyes and shook my head;
I’d never win, of course.
We were going to a wedding
And heading for divorce.
You sat beside me in the church
But left a space between.
I listened to them say their vows
And swallowed down a scream.
I wondered why you hated me
I didn’t know the source.
We were sitting at a wedding;
I was thinking ‘bout divorce.
Later at the reception
In a silence filled with ache
You stayed on the other side of the room;
I thought my heart would break.
Then I heard them play our song
And felt you touch my back.
We danced and every movement
Put us more and more on track.
Our love was stronger than your fury.
It rocked us with its force.
We were dancing at a wedding
And forgot about divorce.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Friday, May 22, 2009
Worry for Sunday Scribblings
Did you ever have anyone
hand you a glass of wine
in an expensive wine glass
thin as a skim of ice
on a pond? You hold
that stem like a delicate
rose. That’s how I feel
about my mom, now. I
love the wine, but
the container is just so fragile
that I’m afraid she’ll break.
I hug her as gently as possible.
hand you a glass of wine
in an expensive wine glass
thin as a skim of ice
on a pond? You hold
that stem like a delicate
rose. That’s how I feel
about my mom, now. I
love the wine, but
the container is just so fragile
that I’m afraid she’ll break.
I hug her as gently as possible.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
3WW: efficient, optimize, treacherous
Waterfalls of change
are treacherous. I paddle
with efficient strokes.
OPTIMIZE MY CHANCES
With efficient strokes
I paddle through treacherous
waterfalls of change.
are treacherous. I paddle
with efficient strokes.
OPTIMIZE MY CHANCES
With efficient strokes
I paddle through treacherous
waterfalls of change.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Poetry Train: Tulips are poeming
Today in Poetry-writing class I had my kids use nouns as verbs in their poems and this is what I came up with.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Tulips are poeming
out all over.
I see their lines
against stone walls
in a multi-colored
rhyme scheme.
Clumps of them
sonnet gardens
while straggler haiku
dot lawns.
Tulips are penciled
on the green paper
of spring.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Tulips are poeming
out all over.
I see their lines
against stone walls
in a multi-colored
rhyme scheme.
Clumps of them
sonnet gardens
while straggler haiku
dot lawns.
Tulips are penciled
on the green paper
of spring.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Tardiness for TOP
I don't know about you but I've been dry, dry, dry since the April poem marathon!
Tardiness
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
I sat down to write a poem
then popped up to turn
the dishwasher on, instead.
I came back to the computer
then remembered that I wanted
to paint a journal page.
Afterwards, I poised my fingers
over the keyboard
and typed, “Tardiness”
then made the broken line
underneath. A ding
alerted me to new email
that I just had to check
right away. I noticed
that the ivy was drooping
so got up, again, this time
to water the plants. Finally,
here I am writing this non poem.
Tardiness
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
I sat down to write a poem
then popped up to turn
the dishwasher on, instead.
I came back to the computer
then remembered that I wanted
to paint a journal page.
Afterwards, I poised my fingers
over the keyboard
and typed, “Tardiness”
then made the broken line
underneath. A ding
alerted me to new email
that I just had to check
right away. I noticed
that the ivy was drooping
so got up, again, this time
to water the plants. Finally,
here I am writing this non poem.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
3WW: Bicker, Nervous, Trajectory
We bicker, we fight.
The trajectory of hate
is a loaded gun.
TOO MAD TO BE NERVOUS
of your loaded gun,
trajectory of your hate,
bickering, fighting.
The trajectory of hate
is a loaded gun.
TOO MAD TO BE NERVOUS
of your loaded gun,
trajectory of your hate,
bickering, fighting.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Poetry Train: As the blue sky
As the blue sky
knows nothing
about stars,
so am I a stranger
to you.
You see the person
you want
me to be: a white
fluffy cloud,
harmless.
But I am
the night
cloaked in the darkness
of secrets,
each of my stars
a hint
to the me
I really am.
knows nothing
about stars,
so am I a stranger
to you.
You see the person
you want
me to be: a white
fluffy cloud,
harmless.
But I am
the night
cloaked in the darkness
of secrets,
each of my stars
a hint
to the me
I really am.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Healing for Sunday Scribblings
A Voice
My mom started
talking again
last week.
It’s not much
more than
a whisper
but it is a
softness so
welcomed.
For months now
she’s been
mouthing words
and we’ve been
frustrated
lip-readers:
one of the sad
side effects
of cancer.
Hearing her voice
now is like
winning a
hard-fought
soccer game:
Mom-1
Cancer-0
Cheers.
Whoops.
Smiles.
~Linda Jacobs
Oct. 5, 2004
My mom started
talking again
last week.
It’s not much
more than
a whisper
but it is a
softness so
welcomed.
For months now
she’s been
mouthing words
and we’ve been
frustrated
lip-readers:
one of the sad
side effects
of cancer.
Hearing her voice
now is like
winning a
hard-fought
soccer game:
Mom-1
Cancer-0
Cheers.
Whoops.
Smiles.
~Linda Jacobs
Oct. 5, 2004
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
3WW: Cryptic, Flash, Malign
The flasher opened
his coat to show off his cryp-
tic manhood. I laughed.
MALIGNED
by his lack, I laughed
cryptically when his coat o-
pened. The flasher frowned.
his coat to show off his cryp-
tic manhood. I laughed.
MALIGNED
by his lack, I laughed
cryptically when his coat o-
pened. The flasher frowned.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Poetry Train: A Bed
A Bed
My bed has a head-
board where I hoard
chapstick and Bic
pens to write to friends.
It holds in its folds
a nail file I’ll
use when I choose
to fix, while I’m watching flicks,
my nails.
And if I fail to fall
asleep at all
I can read a book
or take a look
at TV. It’s free.
Or do a puzzle
and maybe nuzzle
if I must. It’s just
a great place
to be. Lucky me.
My bed has a head-
board where I hoard
chapstick and Bic
pens to write to friends.
It holds in its folds
a nail file I’ll
use when I choose
to fix, while I’m watching flicks,
my nails.
And if I fail to fall
asleep at all
I can read a book
or take a look
at TV. It’s free.
Or do a puzzle
and maybe nuzzle
if I must. It’s just
a great place
to be. Lucky me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Linda's Poems