“I wear the chain I forged in life!
I made it link by link and yard by yard!
I gartered it on of my own free will
and by my own free will, I wore it!”
The past is not fallen leafs;
it is dirt blanketing newly planted seeds.
It is a crack in the window
causing the afternoon sun
to rainbow across my wall,
allowing November’s cold to seep in.
The past is the eye lash fallen on cheek,
a turned up carpet and door with broken deadbolt,
a watch stopped five minutes till 3.
Sometimes the past comes back.
It scratches at door,
curls around fires,
lays in my bed.
In the clarity of reminiscence
I see what I have been looking away from.
It is stark and it is clear.
The past does not haunt me,
I haunt it.
A lingering scent,
a familiar hand brushed upon the small of my back,
I am always leaving pieces of myself behind
waiting for others to catch up.
I wonder what it is about me
that is so easy to let go.
I must let the past solidify,
mold it into perpetual bricks,
and mend broken windows
until my house can stand.
sounds of revelry spatters the night split skirts ride high on corners trading skin for money eyes of youth through windows stare to lie on backs open legs - knees bent MISCHIEF ~ but never kiss the lowly have it tougher battering or death, risks lined up on the street calling 'honey what you want' are they empty remembering the little girls they were and how they sell themselves exhibiting their wares but who am I to judge the top girls don't have corners there's no mayhem in their world unlike the street lamp hussling tease and flaunt their 'goods' they do 'a job', as I do mine and who am I to say this is how they live their life from day ..to day..to day ©jmtacken Sep 2013
winds blowing soft , our union unyielding
we ramble like kids
united love , we’re shielding
wandering through presence we laugh and we cry
never really knowing
exactly the whys
perfection our goal , our long-lost conclusion
youth has been lost
the new-found illusion
finale grows near , as finally we see
love depends on two things
that’s you and that’s me
The flight of life, all I am or hope to be. I close my eyes.
I am a child, turning as I look for signs of growing up,
then a teen, swirling in front of a mirror,
dreaming of college, midnights out, no curfew.
Suddenly, I awake to the sound of wedding music
and then a baby cries as I shake my head.
The laundry awaits, my feet hurt.
Life, where is it going, it used to seems so slow.
Now I’m bandaging skinned knees, paying mortgages.
I see my teen swirling in front of a mirror.
I find myself looking at the obituaries in the paper.
I notice a little gray in my husbands hair.
Graduations, weddings, then accidents, surgeries,
my back hurts when I garden all day, the house needs repair.
I cry at the tombstones of my parents,
suddenly becoming aware of my own age,
Life, speeding by at the speed of light.
Computers have replaced the written word.
I feel outdated, like I don’t belong here anymore.
Struggling to keep up, I feel the desperation of loosing my edge.
Yesterday, I was young, had hope, dreams, health.
I remember whirling in the wind beneath the moon,
Oceans waves crashing behind me, the bright lights of town
glowing distantly, calling to me, “Come, live, love!”
Now it is nighttime, winter, cold and bare.
The dreams have been fulfilled or died long ago.
I try to imagine where it all went, how it got away,
A tear rolls down a weathered cheek. I close my eyes once more.
I was walking out the front door and noticed the Mr. Lincoln rose was particularly beautiful. I used my cell phone to snap a pic. The water droplets didn’t come through as crisp as I would have liked…you can see the sheen of the droplets. This rose is a fragrant reminder of my mom’s love of roses. First generated in 1964, the rose was transplanted from my folk’s house after their deaths and the sale of their home.
I remember back when mom seemed mean
we never knew the things she had seen
as children we always knew it all
mom was there when we would fall
we took them for granted , mom still carried on
we didn’t always call , when we were gone
mothers are loving , mothers are strong
mom lets us down softly when we are wrong
now that I’m older , all I can say
All Moms among you have a great day
a single ray of light in the dark room,
static at a particular straight line,
never moving, always staying there,
just fading when approaches the twilight,
and disappearing with onset of night,
making an appearance yet once again,
as sunlight comes through a new day,
faint at first, but reclaiming its shine-
the single light ray in the dark room,
where there exists nothing else but
a penetrating darkness all around,
isolated away from life and living,
where the only play is that of the light,
which comes by everyday, day after day-
the single ray of light in the dark.
Specks of dirt
appear to have frozen
on the table top
which once was a hub of activity
where I would recline everyday
to get through things
to have a life
with a daily routine
These specks of dirt
now have frozen over it
they will get engraved soon
becoming a part of it for
it no longer has me
recline over it,
getting through things
life is changed,
table top has changed
and I have, as well.
Fish oil capsules slide right down.
Neurontin follows after.
Wellbutrin and Abilify
turn sadness into laughter.
Furosemide sticks in my throat,
I choke upon it daily;
while Trazadone at night I take
to greet the morning gaily.
Coreg and an aspirin
both for my heart I’m taking,
A variety of vitamins
are another cocktail making.
I take a few prescription drugs
that help me remain placid.
protects from too much acid.
Let’s not forget the insulin
at breakfast, lunch and dinner.
It keeps my blood from sugar highs,
but doesn’t keep me thinner.
Susan Dean Wessells
[ Video credit to the owner ]
Some things don’t last forever,but some things do.
Like a good song, or a good book,
or a good memory you can take out and unfold
in your darkest times, pressing down
on the corners and peering in close,
hoping you still recognize the person you see there.