Collage days musings.

So life has gotten really busy. We had some things happen at work, and I have picked up lots of extra hours through the holiday season. It's suppose to settle down come January, but you never know what will happen. Todd has been a real trooper and has really helped out at home. I am so grateful for him and so proud of him.
I lent my camera to Mom for her vacation, and Mom, Cyntha, and Dot have all decided they want one just like it. I should get it back this week. But I have no pictures to post. So I thought I'd post a poem I wrote. These are all old poems. But I haven't shared them with most of you. I love the quote from the Dead Poets Society "We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. . . . And the human race is filled with passion. . . . Poetry, beauty, romance, love: these are what we stay alive for."

Potty Training

Someday I'll be big--

Mommy said so.

Then I can do things big kids do:

cross the street

go to school

stay up past 8 'o'clock

and go to the bathroom all by

myself.

Who wants to sit and wait

till Mommy remembers

I need help.

May 1999

This poem was an assignment to write a poem off a picture. I ended up with a cute picture of a little kid sitting on the potty--looking out the door. But I think the poem stands on it's own. I still see that picture when I read it. Although I now see two little toe heads too.

Excuses

I sit by the window.

You said 3:00;

I was here at 2:30.

Packed last night

It took no time at all.

My plans were cancelled,

I dropped everything,

Told everybody

"My Daddy is coming."

As the clock ticks

3:00, 3:30, 4:00 . . .

I am still waiting. . . .

May 1999

Behind Glass

Smooth glass and tired hands touch again

as I kiss your picture before bed.

That is all I have left now--

A couple of old letters, your picture

and the memories that haunt my dreams:

Batting movie quotes

and pick up lines

back and forth.

Your laugh echoing . . .

As you tell your stories something in your eyes dance

Reminding me of flames on a black night.

And for a moment, like puzzle pieces

I seem to fit in your arms.

Until my roommate calls

"What's taking you guys so long?"

And I wake--

Touch my lips and the glass

And go on without you.

Feb 2002

This last one is one of my favorites. Probably because I sat down to write. I didn't know what to write, just that I had to--and this is what happened. In looking at it after the fact, I realized that I felt this way in one of my relationships at the time--long ago, in a far away place. I love it when I discover in the process of writing. My best writing comes that way I think. And so I still have a special place for this one.

Wet Shoes

Cold, bare, and exposed

my shoes lie wet on the floor--

exposed to the frost filled wind

streaking through the open door.

Tossed there and forgotten

as I strip my wet clothes for

dry, fuzzy sweats

and slippers given me last Christmas.

Knotted and mangled

from the days adventures;

I toss them outside

and shut the door.

September 2002

Well Kaylyn has just gone down for a nap. And I have two hours before Family Home Evening. I'm going to attempt a 15 minute pick up in the living room--while Kaylyn is not undoing my work. Then I'm going to catch a quick nap. And then I think I will finally get dressed for the day! I still dress up to look good for a guy.