Sheila's Dribs 'n Drabs

After the words have dripped From leaves of love to loamy ground And sound still fades After the memory ripped Is sentence filling spilling out My weary brain After the thought is gone And on and on the wheels go round Well then I’ll say Hope sips its promise After.

If war disposes arguments then Peace discloses what we meant and Love opposes detriment; Hoping for closure, sent the child, attending school, bending the rules he’s meant to score for. War has Taken him; His innocent Insouciance is Broken; law’s a token; Arguments dispose of all We taught him for.

When stars have died And shadows fade Remember crying. Winter’s blight Turns all to gray When stars have died The cross’s height Will show the way Remember crying All you’ve tried To win has failed And stars have died Remember life Was given to save Remembering crying Forgiven, time Today to pray For stars will die Remember crying.

In the start of the end Broken hearts never mend; In the end of the start Lovers part. In the dark of the night Broken-heartedly fight; In the light of the day Flee away. In the friendship of peace There’s an end, a release; Broken hearts make amends; Love replayed.

She wasn’t hers, just borrowed from a friend. She couldn’t give what wasn’t hers to lend. She neither led nor followed in the end But bade the black and white betrayals blend Their gray to rainbows all her hurts to mend Till she my friend could lend herself to me.

Monday she started falling, trying to tie her shoelaces all by herself, then called for help. Monday’s care-givers are always late; should have waited she thought, but falling lent a sort of elasticity to the dream, though not her body; seemed like Friday might break her. On Sunday she rose.

Gray as winter’s wood and dark Damp as clouds of spring Lost as heaven’s whispered spark Birds of mourning sing. Bright as sunlight on the door Of summer’s opened tomb Cross of night arises more Than wondrous; dies the gloom. Easter dawns. May heaven shower This broken world with flowers. Find more Easter poems (including one by me) on Kimberly Blackadar's Poetry for Easter page.

“Please can I finish this chapter first”— The reader’s longing, reader’s curse— Please let me finish before you ask Completion of some other task. “Please can I finish this chapter first”— The writer’s longing, writer’s curse— Forever after dreams recur; Please let me finish my story first Before it ends.

Purse held Thirty geld But only one denial will betray. Cock crowed Threefold But only denial will betray. Whip lashed Cruel slash But only one denial will betray. Nail pierced Sharp’n fierce But only one denial will betray. He forgave Died to save And everyone’s denial is forgiven Every day.

Love is the green-headed monster, devouring All promise of hope and its mystery Love is the black-headed thunderstorm’s showering. Love is the green-headed monster devouring All I have longed for and hoped till empowering Dreams and remembrance of history Make love a green-seeded promise empowering All hope and its mystery.

I’ve dried my dreams, condensed my tears to paper, laid it flat. I’ve bled my words to symbols that Declare my heart undone. I’ve rolled myself behind the hidden scenes behind the glass And pulled the stopper tightly that Will keep my message dry. Now time has won I cry.

The champion rides to castle Where resides holding his heart The maid ensorcelled by the stone. He’s climbed the walls of stone Around the castle Come to claim the maiden’s heart Champion bares his broken heart To her but stone Her castle Walls; her castle’s heart undone, there’s only stone.

Like calls to like. The stranger cries; The child steps to his side— “Come back, come back”— But innocence has seen the way We like to turn aside. Like calls to like. “Why don’t we help?” Entitlement’s a crime. Then child so irresponsible Has social truth more perfectly In mind.

Sometimes it’s hard to remember In the greater scheme of things None of this matters. There’s times I don’t want to remember In the greater scheme of things I’m not important. But then I wake up in church and remember In the greatest scheme of things He died for me.

For a moment the gray changed color, flickering with life; There were lights round the flowers Yellow and red like silk, blue carpets spreading, threaded with gold And grass grown too long— Wet grass still, sodden, strong with the power of winter Old; for a moment Then the light disappeared.

I am not mine, though once they said That’s not like you as if they thought they knew Who I should be, they never will Find me. I am not mine, the labels lie I’ll never fit no matter how they try Never be right, and never quite Be me.

In a world of rigid classes the rich Lorded over the rest of us; Our problems weren’t theirs. In a world of new beginnings the wise Poured tea into the harbor and declared, Demanded, their share. In a world of high finances the rich Say ’tain’t none of my business.

Long and slim with pointed end Good for digging holes in friends Scratching paper, drawing lines “Not right,” says teacher, but they’re mine “Not writing,” so I talk instead Recordings twist the words I’ve said “Then learn to write,” teacher replies I clutch that pencil, struggle, try Erasers conquer all.

Squirrels ate the last blooms of spring-- Winter still pouring ice-driven streams To wash away tears. The thing is, Summer thought it was dreaming. Squirrels, scared this year’s weather might bring Brown grass for dinner instead of green, Quickly devoured the last blooms of spring While winter poured cold-weather streams. I guess it's sort of, almost, vaguely similar to a triolet. But the squirrels are real and they just at the last yellow crocus.

Maybe I’ll feel better in the morning Maybe dawn will bring me sun instead of pouring rain Maybe sunlight vitamins will wake me Maybe clouds will mist away and shake away the gray Maybe you’ll remember that I miss you Maybe you will kiss me under morning’s day-lit blue Maybe.

Come play with me Come stay with me Come silently We’re good at keeping quiet. Come sit with me Come fit with me Come secretly And close the doors so tight. Come watch with me Come plot with me. Never again says she. The child torn up inside Trusts nevermore.

In the afternoon We’ll phone in the evening And then we’ll say goodnight. Don’t call between 8 and 10 she says So we’ll wait till 2. Is it summer-time? Gray clouds like winter outside But the flowers think it’s spring. Can’t fix the hours. Just phone And love’s the thing.

Everything’s bigger in Texas, The city, the dinner, the trees Well, maybe not trees They need water But storms oughtta bring the roof down. Everything’s bigger in Texas, Go visit the son Walk the town And we’ll celebrate family That’s bigger tonight Even the family cold is bigger in Texas.

Like calls to like. Her avatar Searched ever far and wide to find The like that called to her. Like seeking like, but never same For mass and anti-matter flash, The future slashed and burned. Like finding like. What if she’d stayed Not strayed? The universe is now Unraveled, overturned.

Don’t dream, do it. Don’t seem to be Someone you’d rather not be In the end. Light bends And prism’s strength Lends touches of its change To rainbow’s end. Don’t dream they said. Wake up and be No stranger To yourself. But leprechaun Sweet rainbow’s elf Only declared Dream me.

Pink slip. Fired. Permission’s expired. The children are gone Away No shape to the day. Wired On coffee And raiding cookies Her pink slip Hardly fits her anymore. She skips Pink-slippered Memories pour Through her If they phone home. E.T. remember You were an alien too Before you were grown.

The doctor says You’ll be okay Take aspirin, go away. The doctor’s tired. The doctor says Go home and sleep. Tonight he works more hours Than clocks can keep. The doctor says He’ll be okay Don’t worry Mom as if Mothers can stop. The doctor works A lot. Mom prays.

There was a time I ran upstairs On silent feet and nobody was there; Looked in the mirror Not even me. I imagined you’d be happier if I’d go. There was a time you ran around On silent feet I couldn’t find you But I’ll stay. I’ll stay for you.

Wish you were here. We’d share our happy hour - More fun to eat than “happy-meals” - We ate so well with you. Wish you were here, not working hard again But we’ll enjoy a drink, perhaps A snack, and think of you. Wish you were here Wish I were there again.

We went from winter to summer, Oregon to Texas, and watched While flowers strained against the lack of rain. We mourned the fact That we’d not see that fabled blue; we’d come too soon Or else the rain too late. Rushed for the plane, delayed by boom Of Texas thunderstorms.

Once he was small and she fed him. He walked; mother guided his steps. He talked and he learned her expressions and sounded like her. Then he grew. Once he was taller and looked like and grew like his dad. Once he was grown, himself, alone. She’ll love him forever.

The log fire burned, smoke curling, guarded, safe; heat rippled strong. Up on the grate whole slabs of meat and ribs cooked slow and long, their juicy scent, sweet, heated, spiced, almost alive, smoke curling to the sky. And overhead the sausage hung, swung, smoke’s delight to fire the barbeque.

Small boy pushed round small girl at water’s edge. Both wobbled wild. Neither fell in. Tall youth wobbled against his date. Both steadied. Both were safe. Old man tripped on a rock at water’s edge. Wife grabbed his hand. They wandered on. And ducks kept night-time peace at water’s edge.

Once, long ago in history, these people fought with those. Some bravely stood right where you stand, defended land, and died. Armies brought home left colonists behind. Then conquered foes and dreamers fought with hope to ease their minds. And died. Remember the Alamo they said. Remember. And they died.

They said the drought had hurt the flowers—not be so many this year. They said the river’d be higher, the banks more green. They said the trees were dying; some were brown, bark turning gray. They hoped for rain. Then I came home. Too much. I’d send them ours.

“It’s cold outside”; sky’s mainly gray, no rain, no coats required, but cold outside. “Such awful weather”; sky patched blue, faint sun, no sleeves required, but cold outside. “Such a gray day”; sky’s turning clear, the air grows softly warm. “Too hot outside”; put warm clothes on, set air-conditioning high.

Rain pours down windows, water-silk hides water-logged outdoors. The plane’s delayed, again. Rain drums the wings; the windows fog to hide the splattered sky. The plane takes off. Rain hides below but here the clouds are white; the sky is bright. Rain’s gone. Winter to spring in one short flight.

Traffic silenced, freeways far away in country green. Water burbles, drifting brook. Birds sing. Birds screech and sing. So many birds sing. He lies reading a book while shadows fade and daybreak begins. Birds sing again. So many birds sing. He staggers to the window, begs for silence; birds sing.