At Your Mother’s Elbow

It really doesn’t come as a surprise
that adding years does not result in wise.
But suddenly you’re listening to me
although I am disdained, for family
knows nothing, right? How could your mother get
enlightenment she’s capable of sharing?
You’ve known her so familiarly, and yet
she’s seeming smart (today beyond comparing).

It could be all her thinking’s paying now.
Perhaps she has observed a truth or two.
She utters words that maybe should be stressed.
She doesn’t have a formula for how
you should proceed or what you ought to do,
but Mother might be able to suggest.

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Retail Huitain

This year November felt condensed.
We reset clocks and shared a feast,
digested tallied votes and sensed
a turn to some restraint at least.
Before its end the fall increased
to leaves afire not aflame.
I’m readying to face the beast
of retail that’s December’s frame.

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A Few Cherished Hours

I haven’t had the time to write a poem
the last two days, with all the doing here.
The solitude and silence of my home
is missing in this loving atmosphere.
There’s conversation to be had – it’s clear
we want to cook the meals and serve the food.
There’s five to hug and one to pet, and near
to perfect’s everybody’s attitude.

(Huitain)

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Travel Pt 2

Exaggerating yesterday – indeed,
there’s more for me to travel than return.
The treks and touring always seem to feed
imagination. Sure each time I yearn
for home, but my displacement plants a seed
that after-nurture sprouts. And so I learn.
It discombobulates, but could be worse.
It populates my mind and triggers verse.

(Ottava Rima)

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Travel

It’s never been unmitigated fun
to travel to or with my family.
That’s not because of them or anyone
outside myself – the issue is with me.
I’ve always loved my time alone. I shun,
as far as I recall, all company.
Except (and here’s the moral of this poem),
I have to venture out to come back home.

(Ottava Rima)

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Moving a Book

Three years ago a book I bought arrived,
assembled by some family and bound
in vibrant colors for the folks who strived
to show support, or loved the art they found,
that issued from the mind of someone downed
by injury to brain and drawing hand.
I laid that book down next to where I sit,
where it’s remained in place, a gadget stand,
until this morning. Recollecting it,
I shelved it in an area more fit.

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Re(medi)ality

I watched you take yourself off nicotine,
abruptly and without a backward slip.
I witnessed when you altered your routine,
eliminating alcohol with grace.
It’s true your sister tried to intervene;
a few of us made comments that you heard.
But you cold-turkey quit. What do you mean
to now assert nobody can self-whip
addiction? Recollect how you got clean.

(Magic 9)

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Ketchup

I don’t use ketchup often any more.
I’m meatless and I seldom go for fries.
But sometimes I want cocktail sauce, a pour
of Louie dressing (Thousand satisfies).
I visited my tiny local store,
assuming I could add to home supplies
a little jar. Imagine my surprise –
the only stuff they stock is mega-size.

(Ottava Rima)

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Defending the Rental

“McMansion” is the way his mom portrayed
the place they rented from AirBnB.
He didn’t understand what she conveyed,
and asked her to explain. “Monstrosity”
she didn’t say. “It housed our family –
enormous but not fine, to be precise.”
He pondered and then ventured critically,
“That’s someone’s house, and you’re not very nice.”

(Huitain)

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Skipping

They had me skip a grade when I was young.
From 3rd to 4th they boosted me mid-year.
They thrust me into higher math among
a group of kids I didn’t know. My sphere
transformed, I raced to learn to multiply
(my 7’s, 8’s and 9’s were rushed too fast).
I leveled up in subjects though, but my
advance in form and manners was outclassed.

My BFF (intelligent but low
in confidence, at least historically),
said “No one skipped me. That’s one way I know
how much more smart you were and are then me.”
Oh that’s not it. My talents were for S.T.E.M.
The faculty was primed to notice them.

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