End Suffocation

Too much black
Too much colour;
Fashion out of sync

Too many calories
Extra weight a turnoff
Comparisons cut deep

Stay close;
Stop being anti-social;
Friendliness invites abuse

Children need their mother
How do you plan to pay?
Better find a job.

Never enough
Beaten by criticism
A lonely marriage

Control suffocates
Narcissism cares not
Road is dead-end

Break free
Take the leap
True love begins with self.

(Image my own)

I Am Listening, Child

Child of mine,
what rage is this
that sets you against
a younger brother?

What discontent stirs
so deeply within that
you would lash out
at me, your mother?

Let us sit a moment,
and let me, with tenderness,
listen, for your anger masks
pain, and I am not so far
removed from childhood
to recognize that tone.

If I have wronged you,
speak; I need to hear it.
If peers are pressuring,
or bullying, or you feel
betrayed, lay it here
in my hands, and I will
comfort you, and offer
what wisdom I have.

Your well-being is sacred
to me; let me hold you –
you’re not too old – linger
here in my embrace until
the tears come, and the storm
passes; I will hear your fears,
frustrations, and disappointments,
and together we will figure it out.

Child of mine,
I am here for you,
no matter the reason;
your pain is my pain,
talk to me; I am listening.

(This poem first appeared Dec, 2019. Image my own)

First Kiss

Dock sitting
past midnight
parental drone
humming in distance

Two silhouettes
haloed in moonlight
I lean in, heart pounding
your lips brush my forehead

Nothing more…
Nevermind! I blurt
scrambling to leave
rejection a soul tattoo

(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson.
Image my own. Care to join me and write about your first kiss?
Drop me a link so I don’t miss it.)

Deceit

“I’d like to get you know more,”
he said, pulling up a chair
met with stunned silence

“Truly,” he prodded, “I feel
as if we’ve drifted apart,
and I’ve ignored us.”

I might have said “No kidding”
but hope swelled with his words
and I blurted: “Ask away.”

So he listened,
as he had that first night
when tipsy and enamoured

We’d stumbled home
from the bar, and he
into my bed…and stayed

Seventeen years
three children
and five houses

and now he wanted to know
all about me – my interests
my dreams, my fears

And trout-like, I bit
spilled it all, still believed
in turning points and

riding off together
into the sunset, reunited
by undying love

It all showed up,
twisted of course,
in the court affidavit

material to defeat me
in divorce – discredit
my parenting capabilities

He didn’t succeed, still
wish we’d mingled more
you know – actual dates

before I’d committed
my life to this robotic
man, who never saw me.

(For Eugi’s Weekly Prompt: mingle. Image my own.)

A Mirage

Do not apologize
the fault lies not with you

Love, while lauded for its cures,
is not always compensation

for a life of turmoil –
I know you loved her

Watched as you let your dreams slide
heart wringing with your own sorrow

There was just something about her
men lined up to grasp… to make her

What? Theirs? Happy?
It was not to be

she barely possessed herself…
Even in death, I reach for her

try to define the ruse
but her essence is elusive

No, you are not at fault…
for she was never really there.

(For Reena’s Xploration Challenge, prompt the featured image.)

Marital Dance

We converse in actions
words inaccessible –
have not been schooled
in dialogues for two.

His clutter spreads
pronounce’s a kingly
presence, commands
attention, oppresses

I clean with insistence
shuffle papers, wipe up
crumbs, assert my right
to co-exist, belittle him.

Once we studied dance;
he learning to lead, I
to follow signals – the art
is lost on us now, our steps

more interference, blocking
an inconvenience, not a
strategy; we are rhythmless
tolerating avoidances

How did language fail us
experts now at skirting
delicate issues, retreating
into solo performances

Pray time will serve,
absolve the problem, but
distance grows in silent cracks
we only converse in actions.

(Marital Dance first appeared here in August, 2017.
I submit it here, edited, for Eugi’s Weekly prompt: dance.
Image my own.)

Love Cycles

Who instigated the abandonment?
It’s an ugly question
manifests pretensions
both sides righteous…
blinded

When the rage subsides
faith will intervene
and acceptance –
a milestone
will springboard

recover, victims’
voices gaining clarity
intent amended
launching into love
once again.

(Love Cycles first appeared here May, 2018. Resubmitting it for Reena’s Xploration Challenge: milestones. Image my own.)