Nature Bushwhack
Sky-cracking storm strikes.
Monster sea of swirling trees,
wild wind lambasted.
Monster sea of swirling trees,
wild wind lambasted.
----------
The Car Accident
Suddenly it swung
facing a new direction.
facing a new direction.
The moment of disbelief
that it only happens to others
and it will stop.
And then you know it won’t —
and there is no time to really worry
about what will happen —
because it happens.
that it only happens to others
and it will stop.
And then you know it won’t —
and there is no time to really worry
about what will happen —
because it happens.
The moving machinery,
a mass of fitful and fateful surprise,
churns over the guardrail,
rolls down the cliff slope
and is emphatically stopped
by the tree.
a mass of fitful and fateful surprise,
churns over the guardrail,
rolls down the cliff slope
and is emphatically stopped
by the tree.
----------
Bitter Ground
Impervious to sun blasting window
from urgent New York midday street.
Pen poised over spiral notebook.
I invoke my muse for cluesto an insight that bites.
Helplessly, I eavesdrop a handsome,
flash-smile Jamaican man playing God
to a pretty, squeak-voiced young woman
hostage.
He mocks her, exclaiming loudly
at HER ignorance of HIS chosen focus of knowledge.
His volume pushes hers low.
flash-smile Jamaican man playing God
to a pretty, squeak-voiced young woman
hostage.
He mocks her, exclaiming loudly
at HER ignorance of HIS chosen focus of knowledge.
His volume pushes hers low.
Socratic, sophomoric questions, pseudo-spiritual,
as he goes on and on and on and on.
Is she enjoying this?
Is the titillation of having been selected
by him to play his mirror and her self-apologist
crumb enough to feed a female esteem?
as he goes on and on and on and on.
Is she enjoying this?
Is the titillation of having been selected
by him to play his mirror and her self-apologist
crumb enough to feed a female esteem?
Amidst his indulgent chuckling, brutal,
her humble, self-deprecating answers make me gag.
I, close to screaming, “Make him stop!”
Knowing I too readily and often endured
at her age such arrogant, male,
“I hunt ... you gather … me’” mode.
her humble, self-deprecating answers make me gag.
I, close to screaming, “Make him stop!”
Knowing I too readily and often endured
at her age such arrogant, male,
“I hunt ... you gather … me’” mode.
Why … she … we .. reward and promote such narcissism
with further ego stroking?
Pretending such patronization is please-God-somehow-well-meaning.
Pretending our subservience comes from an inner, maternal grace
and not, let’s face it, some post traumatic place.
with further ego stroking?
Pretending such patronization is please-God-somehow-well-meaning.
Pretending our subservience comes from an inner, maternal grace
and not, let’s face it, some post traumatic place.
Pretending such spirit-eroding, toxic,
“Excuse me while I stand for a bit on your face”
condescension doesn’t really nearly kill
a female will.
“Excuse me while I stand for a bit on your face”
condescension doesn’t really nearly kill
a female will.
----------
Frozen with frustration
I lie
having locked out the world
unceremoniously.
Future atonement
for the aloneness,
but the clock
in need of winding --
or rather, un --
for me to cope with
what I’ve become.
I lie
having locked out the world
unceremoniously.
Future atonement
for the aloneness,
but the clock
in need of winding --
or rather, un --
for me to cope with
what I’ve become.
----------
On Vacation
Light shines diamonds.
Water lathers to shore.
I rose, eager to explore.
Slip into tee and shorts.
A simple, languid time.
Vacation from my mind.
A symphony of satiation
for such happy hungers.
Delirious shadow visions soar
of past and future.
I, pink from yesterday’s swim
feel my own easy grin
as a boat rocks me
from the lolling, lulling, lapping milk
of my Ocean Mother’s breast.
Oh joyous, blessed rest.
Water lathers to shore.
I rose, eager to explore.
Slip into tee and shorts.
A simple, languid time.
Vacation from my mind.
A symphony of satiation
for such happy hungers.
Delirious shadow visions soar
of past and future.
I, pink from yesterday’s swim
feel my own easy grin
as a boat rocks me
from the lolling, lulling, lapping milk
of my Ocean Mother’s breast.
Oh joyous, blessed rest.
----------
The Big, Baby, Fat Man
The big, baby, fat man
sat heavily on the unfolded metal chair.
Huge, massive feet anchored him.
He rolled his head unhappily –
socially inappropriate –
agitated by something or other.
She was very much afraid of him.
sat heavily on the unfolded metal chair.
Huge, massive feet anchored him.
He rolled his head unhappily –
socially inappropriate –
agitated by something or other.
She was very much afraid of him.
“ALL I EVER WANTED WAS TO BE LOVED!”
he roared to the group.
he roared to the group.
She wanted to bolt from the room.
It would be okay. There were others
and he was not, after all,
the monster-specter
of a drunken father.
It would be okay. There were others
and he was not, after all,
the monster-specter
of a drunken father.
-------
Libby these are all good, I so often have felt your "frozen" at times and I loved your vacation. But your Bushwacked clearly describes the 8 years we had with W. :D
I like "Frozen" and by the comment I am reading, so does tg within. I would like to use it in an opening of one of my future posts.
Absolutely brilliant!
Who knew that our favourite lefty of 'Merikhan politics had such poetic beauty in her? All I can say is......
..........MORE........MORE........MORE!!!!
"Rated++++"
;-)
.
Who knew that our favourite lefty of 'Merikhan politics had such poetic beauty in her? All I can say is......
..........MORE........MORE........MORE!!!!
"Rated++++"
;-)
.
I agree with Sky: more of this, please. Maybe it's the weather but reading Vacation was like being on one. R
Libby, these are so diverse, each beautiful and alive. Thanks so much for sharing them here!
I love your poetry, Libby! So insightful and true, and your imagery is startlingly evocative.
Such introspection. Poetry is good for that. These are all so powerful. I felt for the girl in Bitter Ground. Society telling up that we need to stroke the man's ego to gain his attention. They need to remember to tell us that abuse is not attention.
These are great, I could see and hear the man in "Bitter Ground" but then I think most of us have encountered that type before.
tg within, so glad you liked frozen. on vacation is one of my few happy poems. i should write an anti-angst poem once a week maybe for mental health! hah! You know, I wrote first haiku above this past week (the poems above range over decades!) and even updated it after posting. But I never even thought of W. Bush re the title, though that name has certainly got such negative connotations for this generation of Americans and is fitting for the storm (understatement) he has wrought! best, libby
Dianne, you are welcome to use "frozen"! would be honored. best, libby
Dianne, you are welcome to use "frozen"! would be honored. best, libby
sky, thanks so much for your validation!!! means a lot!! :-)
gerald, I got a million of them. As I said to tg within, gotta work on more anti-angst ones! for me and my readers!
clay ball! :-) appreciate!!!!
gary, "natural and unforced" has got to be the best review of my poetry I have ever heard! I thank you!
matt, thank you. i am always tentative about posting my poems but you are always there to validate me and cheer me on when I have done so!!! you rock.
just phyllis, wow. "abuse is not attention" ... you really nailed it!!! thank you. yes, lots of introspection slogging through the decades.
Shutterbug, thanks! I am glad that resonated! That is one of my more recent poems written fast and "furiously" as I finished my eavesdropping.
best, libby
gerald, I got a million of them. As I said to tg within, gotta work on more anti-angst ones! for me and my readers!
clay ball! :-) appreciate!!!!
gary, "natural and unforced" has got to be the best review of my poetry I have ever heard! I thank you!
matt, thank you. i am always tentative about posting my poems but you are always there to validate me and cheer me on when I have done so!!! you rock.
just phyllis, wow. "abuse is not attention" ... you really nailed it!!! thank you. yes, lots of introspection slogging through the decades.
Shutterbug, thanks! I am glad that resonated! That is one of my more recent poems written fast and "furiously" as I finished my eavesdropping.
best, libby
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