Latest Poems

Hello dear cherubs:

Some of you have inquired about my latest poems, so here are a couple of them. Enjoy!

Frozen

The somnambulists walking through the maze and it was just like every other morning except

This time there was an ambulance picking and tearing its way through and so we waited on a small piece of cement.

We stood there and watched the gentle edging of cars and cell phones barely hearing. The ear buds clearing out the gloom.

I fixed my eys on the bus.

The ambulance was gone.

The woman walked.

She walked as if there was nothing in the world to protect her, as if there was nothing in her way or worries or life or lights.

I cried out.

I might have said "stop, or wait, or watch out". I don't remember.

I remember crying out and then my eyes fixed on the bus driver whose window was open.

His face ashen beneath his black face. Our eyes locked.

The woman walked on. And so did I.

___________________

This is an older poem. But I like it, so here it is.

Random

A night worth waking with questions.

I float you see.

I wander and touch things -- the diamond eyeball TV stares back at me, it's 3 AM.

Not worried, not aching, not tense but there are so many ideas.

One hopes one is halfway through but you never know it could be near the end.

I wander and touch things -- I hear regular breathing and every so often a car goes by.

A night worth waking with questions.

I sift you see.

I wander and things things -- my questions are unanswered but that's okay.

Not super human, no frightened but there is so much to comprehend.

One hopes one's children might find teh center, but one is never sure, it could never happen or it could.

I wander and touch things -- there is a lovely aroma from the flowers on the table.

A night worth waking with questions.

I feel you see.

I wander and touch things -- I hear my heart, my heart which I have tried for so long not to hear.

I live entirely within this husk that is changing so rapidly I cannot even define it.

I hope there will be definition soon.

I wander and touch things -- the light filters through my window like dust.
_________________l

Untitled

As I strode toward the station the moon, earthlit, rose above me.

The sun behind me did not warm my neck.

In the sky with unequal love.

The deer frozen in the capsule of a moment, I hurtled toward her.

Her eyes luminescent like the moon, there was no time to live my life again.

At the last moment she moved and yet it feels just like I hit her broad on, the way she was standing, burying her hooves inside my heart, inside the celestial beings who shone down and did not care.

___________________

Happy New Year dearest cherubs.

Margaret

The obligatory physically challenged post -- coping with a broken ankle

Precious Cherubs:

Ok, so most of you know by now that I am the victim of black ice, which is not as nice as being the "victim" of black gold, "oil that is, black gold, Texas tea". Fifteen points to all who can sing the complete Beverly Hillbillies song. Nevermind, I win.

So I am past the surgery which involved plates and screws. And I am rediscovering my life. I have temporarily lost my independence. It occurs to me that I never really had it, that it was, perhaps, an illusion -- not my life, but my independence.

You have to figure out the following:

How to move (back and forth and up and down)
How to bathe
How to eat
How to drink
How to keep your clothes clean

There are many more sub-catigories that fall under those larger catigories. And all of them have to be rediscovered.

I have become grateful to many people, namely, my roommate, my daughter, my brother, and my friends, yes, in that order.

My roommate was a "first responder". He picked me up at the ER. He made the most profound statement of my life. He said the following: "Margaret, I can clean the house, cook the meals, wash the clothes and take care of you. In return, I ask only that you don't cry". I love you Tom DiFrancia.

My daughter was the "immediate care giver". She said the following: "Mum, you took care of me for many years, including the time that both my wrists were broken. Think of this as payback time". And she drove the car and took me to the doctors, to my testing, to the hospital at that ungodly hour, and she waited while I had my surgery. Then, and only then, did she venture home to her New Year's eve party. I love you Lydia.

My brother John was what he has always been, the "guy who picks up the pieces". He showed up at the hospital after I had my surgery and I opened my drug laden eyes to his smiling face. He looked like an angel to me. He offered to bring me home from the hospital on Thursday, after he had worked many long hours. Lucky for him and for me, my roommate's work schedule was changed and he was able to pick me up earlier. I love you John.

My friend Margaret came to make my bed at home and brought me books and stayed to discuss poetry with me. My friend Marcia brought me goodies from the grocery store and trashy magazines and stayed to talk with me in the middle of a busy day. My Facebook, Tagged and Yahoo friends left encouraging messages. My friends Patt, Jan, and Molly and my brother Tony, all called. I am one lucky woman.

I am not a believer in fate. I am not a believer in love. I am not a believer in God. But somehow it would seem many things wound themselves together during these last couple of weeks to make one accident that might have been unbearable, bearable.

I often tell people that what they deposit in the karma bank, comes back to them. Now I know, it's true.

Happy New Year, dearest cherubs.