Thursday, July 9, 2009

30 days out of 35 cloudy and rainy--so we look for gladness

Hiding gray reveals other truths
The tempered light
Opens color to eyes
Which see twilight
But the daisies shine
Not gray sadness
But riotous gladness
As the ordinary
Now takes center stage
In bright glory
Like galaxies of stars
Hidden sunshine
Explodes in uplifting white
With purple loose strife
With deep blue delphinium
Accenting the joy

Gray
Light
Joy

Where is your focus?
(July 3, 2009; Jaffrey roadsides, NH)

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Processing.12 The Final Beginning








Ice ship crushing through Arctic layers
City navigating through crush of people
Walls around them each one hard
Hurts to be human, I think

Chaos of colors of faces of postures
Cacophony of winds, car horns, hawkers,
Pigeon cooings, baby cries, screeching tires,
Filtering din, discerning images fluxing
Twirling and spinning reality

Wounded healers, wounded warriors,
Wounded hearts gaping with their pain
Making patches, band aids, plaster covers
Pretending the wounds are not there

But they are, sacred blood oozing unseen
Felt, perceived, recognized
This is why they build their Walls
On the outside so I am buffeted
Pushed around, bashed by walls invisible
Real like bricks, like wood, like cement
But imperceptible to The Normals

Yet they see my walls, my interior
Walls; they want me to come outside my
Walls; but their Walls are acceptable
Their wounded, bandaged hearts
Reeking of pain, of fear, of anger
Stop building layers of hiding
Let the wounds be
Through those gaping holes pours
Light; through the piercings shines
The truth of personhood

If you want me to come out
From behind my walls
Lower yours

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Mybeloved Freedom Writer friend Doug wrote this for me.

To C


Your poem like the beach
at the end of the day
everyone else has gone away
before sundown tints the waves to gold
the tide takes back
what washed up,
a sparse verse of broken shells remain

the wind speaks of space too.
and clouds put on their
peach, gray, and lavender show

A dune bird sings a one note hymn
thanking its Maker for freedom.
§ Doug Ball, 06-17-09
Sunset Beach, NC

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Processing 11 Boys Noise


July 1, 2009; CarolAnn Edscorn; Jaffrey, NH; Growing up different; each poetry unit is a childhood memory


Boys
Noisy
Grinning
Sneaking
Plotting

Cute
Mysterious
Hands in pockets
Shy smiles
Approach with
Caution

So
What do I do
I get into trouble

New saddle shoes
Black saddles
White
Shiny
He steps on them
I go home
Get chastised

Biology class
Blonde boy
Smiles
Pulls out my chair
It is gone
I sit on the floor
Hard
Laughter
Not mine

What am I doing
So different
So awful
Drawing their fire
Their ire
Their mire

Immature
No brains
No gains
They think they know
Playboy hiding
A quick shove
A quicker grasp
My gasp
My breasts are
Targets
I wish I were dead

This thought becomes a habit
I wish I were dead
Can’t erase it
Can’t make it disappear
Can’t change it

Boys
What do they want
Not me

Processing 10 Friendships

(July 1, 2009; CarolAnn Edscorn; Jaffrey, NH; Growing up different; each poetry unit is a childhood memory.)


Statuesque
Bright auburn
Blue eyes glittering
Pretty and I thought
Perhaps she could be a friend
She seemed friendly
Always smiling at her girlfriends

They clustered
As middle school girls do
Chattering, smiling
Casing out the boys
Across the cafeteria
So I stood nearby and
Listened

I smiled
Nodded
Tip toed closer
Almost touching
The cluster
Of young ladies

Talking about boys
Talking about make-up
Talking about hair
I am so not interested
But I listen and nod
I smile and edge
Closer

Pretty so pretty
Are her insidez pretty too
Nearly a part of the clutch
Now
Short brunette utters
‘You are so pretty’
Shorter blond murmurs
With shy smile
‘You are sexy
The boys like you’

My chance
Lean forward
Smile
Speak
‘I think you are pretty too’

Not what girls want to hear
From other girls
She smiles from her height
Pauses
Considers
I hope
Please accept me

‘I think-
I think-your elbows are
Sexy’

Happy, so happy
She spoke to me
I have sexy elbows

The other girls are laughing
No
They are sniggering
They move away
I recognize the snigger
The purpose of snigger
Rejection

Standing alone
In the middle of this
Great big room full of youth
Full of life
Smiling
Gabbing
Relating
Standing alone

She is right though
I have sexy elbows
She gave me that gift
She cannot take it
Away
Like she can take herself
Away

I am my own best friend

Processing.9A Lost Dreams Original

(June 27, 2009: The Original Lost Dreams...Nice to compare meandering hope)

Processing
(CarolAnn Edscorn; June 28, 2009; Jaffrey, NH. Growing up different; each poetry unit is a memory.)
Processing.10
Can’t make a living forming music
Can’t make a living building words
Can’t make a living dancing
(Fall down a lot anyway)
Can’t make a living petting pets
(Don’t have one anyway)

Can’t make a living growing birch
Can’t make a living smelling roses
Can’t make a living weaving Light
(Fingers cramp anyway)
Can’t make a living painting stars
(Titanium white isn’t bright enough anyway)

No

Can’t make a living crafting victuals
For imaginary restaurant
Can’t make a living designing villas
Can’t make a living conceiving new toys
(They are still fun anyway)
Can’t make a living flying far away
(Sigh)

Be a nurse
Be a teacher
Be a secretary

Listen to words
Build another inside wall
Darken eyes another point
Kill another heart stopping wonder making laughter creating joy inducing brain engaging living muse

Am I alive or not?
Can’t make a living being me?


Processing.9 Lost dreams?


(July 1, 2009; Growing up different; each poetry unit is a memory)

Denied

Can’t make a living composing music
Can’t make a living painting images
Can’t make a living touching trees
Can’t make a living splashing water droplets

Can’t make a living raising horses
Too expensive
Can’t make a living writing poetry
Too young, too unknown
Can’t make a living smelling flowers
Can’t even grow them
Can’t make a living touching hearts

Learn to be a nurse
Learn to be a teacher
Learn to be a secretary

Can’t make a living designing cars
Someone does
Can’t make a living fixing cars
Men do that
Can’t make a living designing homes
School is too expensive
Can’t make a living dancing
Klutzy

All I love
All I see
All I smell
All I touch
All I embrace

Gone

Well-intentioned advice
Limited insights
Lost dreams of
Their own
They take away
That which becomes the
Lost dream of
Others

Me

I claim my dreams
Love family
Love music
Love dancing
Love writing

Ah, yes
Reborn