POEM: a bigger house

veiled in that obvious way you often choose
when you are trying to hurt me
without claiming ownership
you were careless with my feelings
informing me that if we got a bigger house
you would need my help to keep it clean
like a patient father to his irresponsible child
you implied I don't pull my weight
clearly you are overburdened
doing more than your fair share
at your limit in this, our small house

later, with not a little bitterness
I foolishly pointed out that blue bucket
you left by the garage for months now
one among many items carelessly forgotten
left strewn out doors, for all to see
embarrassing to me, but not to you
snapping back, quickly, sharply,
the veil lifted now, the intent clear
a blow tossed at me with deliberate aim
wasn't it I, not you, that wanted a bigger house
yet thanks to me you have no time as it is now
to take care of all that needs doing in this
our smaller, seemingly less demanding home

Late now, I wonder if you will ever know
the things I do that go unseen, tho maybe few
they would be missed if I should stop
but then again, my messes are private
they don’t announce themselves loudly to others
or reveal the inner turmoil, the secret, ugly side
not like yours, out there glaring for all to see
yet you always manage to ignore your own
never looking underneath, where the dirt is ground in

today, of all days, you said mean things to me
you made me cry, catch my breath hard
forcing me to hide my tears from your cold heart
when I needed to see it beating kindly
tomorrow I let them pump poison in my veins
as you sit and hold my hand
chemicals meant to kill mutant cells
but which toxic venom is more destructive
or hurts me more? Which mess is easier
to sweep under the rug
and forget about?

POEM: Free Pass

You don’t get to judge me
you don’t get to blame me
you don’t get to direct me
or tell me how to be, how to feel
this isn’t about you
your feelings are your own providence

See, I have a "get out of jail free" card

a monopoly of deserving

it's only fair
I can show it to you
I’ll lift my shirt and you will see it
a violent gash, a deep, gnarled scar
it means you have to do what I need
or just stay away from me
and let me do whatever I must
in order to survive this

Because if I don’t survive this
you will have nothing left to judge
or to accuse me of, or complain about
anyway

POEM: what to keep, what to discard

Sorting thru boxes in the basement
I find random, scattered remnants
things I thought were important
crammed into unmarked containers

the notebook I used to keep track
of the times I nursed my first baby
sleep deprived scribblings
evidence of a mother’s nervous dedication

keep

the childhood rock collection
in a scratched plastic box
purchased with my own money
from a vacation gift shop

keep

the cards I bought but never sent
misplaced when they were needed
people absent from my life now
no longer worth saving

discard

these bits and pieces are like lines on a map
the road leads to a place of order
but I am lost amongst the stories
and don’t want to find my way just yet

POEM: Lifeline

unwisely I yearn to grasp
to grab, to hold on
to what is only possible
instead of the probable
or the likely
I want stronger lines
tethering my spirit

because to see Hope’s dark side
is to glimpse that offering
held just out of reach
but dangled enticingly
a frayed promise
made to be broken

POEM: room with a view

People listen when you have cancer
they stop, hanging on every word I say
funny
suddenly my thoughts have more weight
as if I’ve opened a door to wisdom
closed to every one else

Maybe there is such a door
open to me now
new vistas on the other side
perspective shifted
clarity comes in waves
unbidden

But I’m not sure about the wisdom part
perhaps that is not it
perhaps the only thing I have learned
from glimpsing behind that door
that heavy, terrible door
is that I know less than I ever dreamed
my view, unimpeded by triviality
unlocked
goes on for miles

POEM: residue

cancer has left a trail
of dust and debris
that has no where to go
it can’t be swept up
trying to
only scatters the particles
more and more
creating a hazy cloud
swirling in the sunbeam
where it might have been missed
dancing defiantly in the light
until a shadow comes
and all evidence disappears
from view

sometimes
others unknowingly pass thru
without realizing
everything in sight
is covered in a thin dusty layer
the residue my reminder
of futility

POEM: Janis knew

I remember singing Bobby McGee
eyes closed tight
lost completely in the moment
pouring all my angst
into each simple line
as I rocked back and forth
strumming the guitar intently

I lacked a little of the rasp
that signature voice
the edge that comes with age
or from knowing the deep ache
of hard blues, intimately
yet still fresh
entrenched in youth
when I first learned the song
I could hardly have known
what was to come
what there was to be lost

“Freedom’s just another word
for nothin’ left to lose”

I will never be free like that again
and I do miss it fondly
the loss pulls tight at me sometimes
on a late summer night like this
mournful of all that has come to pass

meaning awakens realization now
I know that freedom can be traded
or lost like a poor soul
every wisdom comes with a price
mine is to know that I have everything
and that it is all so beautifully fleeting

I think Janis knew too