Posts Tagged ‘Children’

From the Children and Me

Posted: November 11, 1994 in Poetry
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I miss you snuggling up to my back,
both arms around me,
your breasts against me;
we share the initial chill of the sheets
by huddling together and
squirming frequently,
trying to get comfortable
in that perfect place,
but it is the friction of our bodies —
between us and the bed
— just being close
that makes us warm.

I’m going to sleep now,
wishing you were here.
This futon is vast and unfillable
without your volume.
Stuffed animals are strangely solemn
as opposed to their usual quiet merriment.
We all miss you Dawn.

A Christmas Vision

Posted: November 10, 1994 in Poetry
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Quietly now, the children are sleeping
While we two are creeping
to bite cookies and leave them.
Practical worries about the yearly tour of duty:
Every floorboard creaks, every giggle recognizeable;
Make sure the flat of the hearth is newly sooty,
Make sure the stockings are equally full.
Finally finished, our excitement diminished
By the prospect of the warm bundle wake-up call;
The warning comes as bare soles in the hall —
my arm ‘round your waist,
we can admire the tree
and break our own rule
of conserving electricity:
Plug the lights in and hear the hush
Of the new snowfall, the moonlight’s touch
Twinkles the icicles on the eaves
Outside the window past the wreath-leaves.
Now that Santa’s come and gone,
I’m sure he would have left
the Christmas lights on.

a candle can
move its shadows
like the magic
of an angel
if you believe
that it might be so.

one word
one attempted
explanation
and it’s war
so I give up,
keep my mouth shut
and rot
from the inside
out.

page after page
of meaningless meaning
to myself
tonight
to forget tomorrow
to rewrite
tomorrow night.

Love is no longer
a good enough reason
made to bow to religion,
made to bow to science,
cheapened
and losing the battle
to the evolution of humankind
into the machines
they build,
the laws they build
to worship.

lost is the love of man
of woman
of children
and of God;
love is
the fountainhead
of meaning.

there is a love
for everything good:
if it is good,
then there is love.
some things that
have been found
to be good
are still used
but loveless,
lifeless,
perverted from
their original use
because
love is what
was original.

Untitled Poem #136

Posted: November 20, 1992 in Poetry
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This is all new.
All of this is new.
I am new, you are new;
to discover, each other
again,
like children at school.

So Many Flowers

Posted: August 25, 1991 in Poetry
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I doze off
to wake up
surrounding by stars
floating on a sea
of moth dust
and butterfly wings
with children singing
nursery rhymes
and I can’t move;
there are so many flowers
all bearing fruit
lightning arcs between stars
as I watch the dance
of their rotation
then doze off
and wake up
here.

Untitled Poem #96

Posted: November 6, 1990 in Poetry
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the innocence of sleeping children
makes me softly tread,
not to keep from disturbing the children
but that which is under the bed.