Obligated Calls

I check in with two women every day.
They each have health concerns – I feel obliged.
I don’t claim to enjoy our talks, but hey –
I check in with two women every day.
So neither has a pithy thought to say;
I’d feel too selfish-guilty were they dodged.
I check in with two women every day.
They each have health concerns – I feel obliged.

(Triolet)

Posted in Aging, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Saturday’s Project

Their shelving held four years of sundry stuff,
from books and games to cartons sent by stores.
The family with more than twice enough
bought bigger shelves with basket drawers and doors.
While parents drove to fetch, we said we’d comb –
the 5-year old and I remained at home.
We volunteered to glean and stack the goods
as they went hauling through some neighborhoods.

Together then we worked as morning passed.
We chatted and enjoyed the sorting tasks.
We separated boots from books, and cast
away receipts, old mail and wrinkled masks.
It wasn’t normal Saturday, but one
of lovely labor. Both of us had fun.

Posted in Family, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Spider Lesson

I try to win the games of words or cards,
but 2-suit Spider stymied me so much
I broke a winning streak (a streak retards
my processing with pressure’s squeezing touch).
I then threw off the records and its guards.
I upped the game to add a suit, and such
was all it took to goose my brain to flare –
another lesson learned at solitaire…

(Ottava Rima)

Posted in Cognition, Personality, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Percolation

My home is one of five at this address,
and I took on responsibility
to pay the common bills, and then assess
from others what they ought to send to me.
The latest invoice had some mystery.
I circulated questions. They got shook.
But I just bore the hours patiently.
They came around. Some time was all it took.

(Huitain)

Posted in Home, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Naked DEMO

My neighborhood’s attractive but it’s dense.
We cluster close with separating trees.
So when I heard the noise beyond the fence
and up, where houses rear into the breeze,
I soon identified the source. From whence
the sound emitted, bare from head to knees:
A guy demolishing a sun porch wall,
who wasn’t wearing any clothes at all.

(Ottava Rima)

Posted in Neighborhood, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Recidivism

No sooner did I see some evidence
of gentleness and sensitivity,
than she declined to filterless nonsense,
and soon resumed obnoxiousness to me.
The issue never was intelligence –
a potion mixed of acrid jealousy,
impatient pique and gossip’s pitchy tar
compounded to infect the way we are.

(Ottava Rima)

Posted in Aging, Family, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

For Whom I Tote Phone

My big complaint with kids was all their stuff.
I didn’t like to tote the baby gear,
and toddlers never seemed to have enough
unless I lugged the bulk. The 7th year
I welcomed – each could organize the things
required or desired when they left
(the problem then was how they weighed their wings –
their never-emptied packs had too much heft).

Those days are long ago – I’m senior-plus,
and though I have a cellphone, I’m inclined
to put it down and disregard it. Thus,
I tend to miss some calls, and I don’t mind.
But let a grandkid want my voice and face –
that’s when I tote my smartphone every place.

Posted in Aging, Family, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Time Tricks

Time’s relative of course, or I should say
experience of time is varied so –
I never sit on stoves – it’s not my way
to want to kiss a pretty girl – although
I understand the concept. What I know
is often feeling crowded by a list,
and then achieving luck or easy flow,
and what oppressed evaporates like mist.

(Huitain)

Posted in Philosophy, Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

The Houseguest

My 5-year old best buddy spent the night.
Among the stuff he brought – a cuddle friend
as long as he, he toted, bedded, white
and orange, sleepy-faced, and at the end
abandoned, on departure out of sight
a moment, left for me to apprehend.
It’s soft and clean. It shows amusing face.
But it’s a little giant in my place.

(Ottava Rima)

Posted in Family, Home, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Offensiphilia

What do you think of
you? Yes? Then why so willing
to be offended?

Posted in Philosophy, Poetry, Question | Tagged , | Leave a comment