Tag: new poem every morning

Dubious Caraway

lindastudleyLeave a comment

Some things  are other things
than what we may have thought,
like mushrooms that are edible versus
mushrooms that are not.

or caraway seeds scattered
on your kitchen table
that though surrounded by the crumbs
may not be from your bagel.

And if that isn’t quite enough,
even unseen things are fraught
with that which masquerades
as that which it is not.

Words of love can hide disdain
while laughter hides the tears,
truth is often shot with lies,
and not as it appears.

Say you love me, laugh with me,
and don’t go in disguise.
I’d rather eat dubious caraway
than have you tell me lies.

 

#223

The Unreasonable Request

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Yes, I can say ‘no.’
I can dig in my heels but
is it worth the fight?

No, I won’t say yes.
Reasons are subjective but
I’m not your subject.

Maybe there’s a place
somewhere in the middle ground
where we can agree.

Yes, no, and maybe.
Will we meet in the middle
or shall I go home?

 

#222

Life the Puzzle

lindastudleyLeave a comment

Oh to write a poem or song
and own a few words for a while,
to make them mirrors for your heart and then
to throw them all in to a little Crown Royal bag
like scrabble tiles,
shake them around, listen to them rattle,
then pour them out and start again.
Life the puzzle
Poems and lyrics the clues.

 

#221

Water Dreams

lindastudley2 Comments

Streams and streams of water dreams
trickle through my brain it seems
that last night I imbibed far too much tea.
Brooks that babble, waves that crash,
water canteens slosh and splash
and wake me in the night quite urgently.

But not before they inundate
my poor brain with unrelated
images of soggy situations.
And just before the geyser blows
my eyes pop open and I know
the bathroom is my ultimate destination.

Water dreams, oh, water dreams
in glorious variety team
and wreak nocturnal havoc ‘pon my pons
My rem in remnants, my id all irked
I wake with hypnagogic jerk
bathroom bound again, with a yawn.

Three times, four? I can’t recall
how many trips made down the hall,
how many times those dreams awakened me.
Bleary with sleep fragmentation
I swear in weary exasperation
next time I’ll go easy on the tea.

 

#220

Greenhouse Glow

lindastudleyLeave a comment

So there I was, just me and the mad dogs,
my English roots glinting in the mid day sun,
cleaning out the greenhouse.
Telling over old pots, faded seed packets, and leaky watering cans
and why do I have three of those little fork type hand tools
and only one trowel? Taking everything outside and scrubbing
off the neglect, resigning myself to consigning
the worst to the rubbish tip.

Yes there I was, the sun spinning around me
when you found me and shaking
your head said “look at your shoulders, they’re bright red”
and I looked although I knew you wouldn’t lie about
pain; current or impending
“Oh my, this is going to hurt” I thought.
I really ought to know better, and I put on
a shirt like closing the barn door and later that day,
aloe anointed, fiery red shoulders
banked to a dull glow, I sigh
“Oh well, at least I got the greenhouse cleaned out.”

#219

Noun-ectomy

lindastudleyLeave a comment

I have a friend who tells me
that her vocabulary
has undergone a radical noun-ectomy
which makes it rather hard for her
to give lucid instructions,
unless she uses gestures. I suspect that she

may well be inventing
a new, interactive language
where all the nouns are gradually replaced
by “thing”, the handy word
that means everything and nothing
I see exasperation on her face.

as the nouns all slip away
and everything’s a thing
conversation becomes a game of cold to hot
as you try to figure out
to which noun she is referring
you touch things to see if she nods or not…

“No, no, get the thing over there. You know, the thing, the little thing behind the big thing. Not that thing, the other thing…”

#214

Brain Crumbs

lindastudley3 Comments

When my mind goes wandering
and my thoughts begin to roam
I leave a trail of brain crumbs
to find my way back home.

But sometimes they get picked up
and carefully tucked away
by those who have no crumbs
of their own with which to play.

So if you see some brain crumbs
on some existential plane
let them lie, or I might not
find my way home again.

 

#213