Even though this is guest author day it is still April and time to post my poem. I am a day behind, but I will post two poems to make up for this.:)
About Work
I remember those days
when the alarm awoke
me like a hammer slamming
onto my dreamless sleep
Demanding I begin the day
Pushing me into the vortex
of the rushing traffic as I
put on lipstick and turned
onto the highway – sometimes
the sun hadn’t risen yet.
The smell of chalk dust and
remnants of half-eaten
sandwiches left in lunch boxes
returns as I think back to
those days when my life
was ruled by the rules of
others. The feel of worn
wood under my fingers
The vomit green paint on
the walls I strived to hide
with children’s drawings and
writing, but it peeked through
The little nonsense each day
Culminating in time wasted
So much time spent worrying
Not enough given to the lost
and unfettered – the ones who
floundered in dark waters – who
would never be with their peers
Who would always have to crane
their necks to see the top step
they would never reach. Those who
dropped off - gave up the climb.
As I have given up the fight to change
what refuses to change – Too much
energy wasted when my young soul
could have been flying and writing
Instead of standing on hard wood trying
to cram the sum of knowledge into
inattentive minds washed clean of thought
while closed heads incapable of the
ability to dream set up thrones in judgement
It wouldn’t have been work without them.
What If
What if instead of ignoring the twinge
of desire I felt when I heard your name
we’d met before the years erased all
possibility and formed a bond from the
bits and pieces of shared experiences
and side by side friendship of friends’ children?
What if you’d come to my door with flowers
and we’d been wined and dined for the
triumph our mothers would have felt at our union
And maybe then we might have the passion
that came to the surface the day we met
years later like an unformed boil that needed
to come to a head. Instead of me sitting on your
lap with someone else’s baby and you flustered
by this sign of affection so long desired?
But the timing was wrong
I was a young new mother adrift in the life of
Sesame Street and diapers and you were living
the upper east side dream complete with modernized
four poster bed and significant other.
My childhood friend who cajoled and teased me
Your presence lost to me when we parted
Took separate paths and forged our own ways
Until the day your mother’s furniture crossed my door
The need to see you pushed me to call and your
excited voice to see me after all those years.
As if I were around the corner and we could meet
immediately and live out our childhood's fantasies
That coffee table with the delft tiles is gone now, but the
tiles remain a little worse for wear, the sofa sold before we left Kew Gardens
But I will always remember the look you gave me when we
were inches from a kiss and the cry of my child
reminded me that maybe it was too late
Maybe it was time to put away childish joys.
Before I do that, though, here is my quote for Pompash Dar who is holding a Quotation Thursday on her blog!
"I am not only a pacifist but a militant pacifist. I am willing to fight for peace."
Albert Einstein, physicist, Nobel laureate (1879-1955)
It's not about writing, but it expresses how I feel.:)
Today's prompt was to write a poem about work of any kind. Here is the Poem A Day for Day 22:
About Work
I remember those days
when the alarm awoke
me like a hammer slamming
onto my dreamless sleep
Demanding I begin the day
Pushing me into the vortex
of the rushing traffic as I
put on lipstick and turned
onto the highway – sometimes
the sun hadn’t risen yet.
The smell of chalk dust and
remnants of half-eaten
sandwiches left in lunch boxes
returns as I think back to
those days when my life
was ruled by the rules of
others. The feel of worn
wood under my fingers
The vomit green paint on
the walls I strived to hide
with children’s drawings and
writing, but it peeked through
The little nonsense each day
Culminating in time wasted
So much time spent worrying
Not enough given to the lost
and unfettered – the ones who
floundered in dark waters – who
would never be with their peers
Who would always have to crane
their necks to see the top step
they would never reach. Those who
dropped off - gave up the climb.
As I have given up the fight to change
what refuses to change – Too much
energy wasted when my young soul
could have been flying and writing
Instead of standing on hard wood trying
to cram the sum of knowledge into
inattentive minds washed clean of thought
while closed heads incapable of the
ability to dream set up thrones in judgement
It wouldn’t have been work without them.
copyright 2009 by Barbara Ehrentreu
As if you couldn't figure it out, the above poem was about how I felt about teaching. But it could pretty much sum up how I feel about work.:) Going according to other people's rules isn't my idea of fun.
Here is the prompt for today. Write about a regret you have. Here is mine:
What If
What if instead of ignoring the twinge
of desire I felt when I heard your name
we’d met before the years erased all
possibility and formed a bond from the
bits and pieces of shared experiences
and side by side friendship of friends’ children?
What if you’d come to my door with flowers
and we’d been wined and dined for the
triumph our mothers would have felt at our union
And maybe then we might have the passion
that came to the surface the day we met
years later like an unformed boil that needed
to come to a head. Instead of me sitting on your
lap with someone else’s baby and you flustered
by this sign of affection so long desired?
But the timing was wrong
I was a young new mother adrift in the life of
Sesame Street and diapers and you were living
the upper east side dream complete with modernized
four poster bed and significant other.
My childhood friend who cajoled and teased me
Your presence lost to me when we parted
Took separate paths and forged our own ways
Until the day your mother’s furniture crossed my door
The need to see you pushed me to call and your
excited voice to see me after all those years.
As if I were around the corner and we could meet
immediately and live out our childhood's fantasies
That coffee table with the delft tiles is gone now, but the
tiles remain a little worse for wear, the sofa sold before we left Kew Gardens
But I will always remember the look you gave me when we
were inches from a kiss and the cry of my child
reminded me that maybe it was too late
Maybe it was time to put away childish joys.
copyright 2009 by Barbara Ehrentreu
Until the next time thank you to my readers and the new people who are stopping by. I hope you'll return.:) Remember to read my Guest Author interview with John Wayne Cargile and leave a comment or question to be in the drawing for the free e-Book!!
