From Where I stand - a pantoum

(this is one of those in the middle of the night poems)

From where I stand,
I see her at the corner,
The light changes,
Yet, she patiently waits.

I see her at the corner,
Others cross and stare,
Yet she patiently waits,
She doesn’t seem to care.

Others cross and stare,
The sun highlights her blue streaked hair,
She doesn’t seem to care,
They are not part of her world.

The sun highlights her blue streaked hair,
The ear I can see has three earrings,
They are not part of her world,
I touch my own unpierced ears.

The ear I see has three earrings,
I wonder if I would dare,
I touch my own unpierced ears,
Shaking my head I know the answer.

I wonder if I would dare,
Why does she wear baggy clothes,
Shaking my head I know the answer,
Covering her budding woman’s body.

Why does she wear baggy clothes,
Once was asked about me,
Covering her budding woman’s body.
On the brink of adulthood, the wonderment

Once was asked about me,
As she stands so aloof, cool, yet sweet,
On the brink of adulthood, the wonderment,
She sees me turns to me and smiles.

As she stands so aloof, cool, yet sweet,
“Where have you been?” she asks
She turns to me and smiles,
"Watching you," I answer.

“Where have you been?” she asks
I just admire for the moment,
Watching you I answer,
“Oh! Mom!” she laughs

I just admire for the moment,
From where I stand
Oh! Mom! She laughs,
Yet, she patiently waits.

Poor Dumb Animals

Yes, this actually happened. Kind of makes you wonder
who the poor dumb animals really are!

Poor Dumb Animals – by me

I was careful to check,
Made sure all the cats were
Locked upstairs safe and sound,
Before I opened the door.

But as I opened it, trash bags in hand,
A flash of orange zoomed past,
Oh! Sh_ _ (use your imagination –
Insert appropriate expletives!)

Dropping the bags I was carrying,
I gave chase as he approached
The neighborhood stray tom cat,
I had been feeding every morning.

But, there were no hisses or growls,
Just nose touching and off they went!
It as then I realized I was standing
Outside in only my nightshirt.

After hurriedly dressing I went back,
To rescue my poor cat,
As it was now raining and
He didn’t seem to know enough,

To come in out of the rain.
I walk in the downpour calling
Getting soaked when I hear a
Familiar meow answer my call.

Yes, there he and Scarface were,
Deep in the bushes dry as could be,
Watching me with concern,
Trying to call me in out of the rain.

Finally, taking pity on me,
My cat tentatively takes a
Step out and I grab him and
Run inside where he’d be safe and dry.

While peeling off my soaked clothes,
I tell my husband what had occurred.
He never questioned the intelligence
Of chasing a cat in the pouring rain.

“You got him back in then,” was all he said.
“Of course,” I replied. “After all, he’s just a
Poor dumb animal who doesn’t know enough
To come in out of the rain.

Irish Songs

This is a song/poem I wrote for my maternal grandfather.

IRISH SONGS

Grandpa used to drink a bit,
And sometimes he’d get drunk,
And when he did he’d sing soft Irish tunes,
Grandma would act mad,
But I’d see her smile as she turned away
And even now today
I see them there,
Grandpa at the kitchen table,
Grandma in her rocking chair.

Oh, time you moved too quickly by,
Taking love and laughter and Irish songs,
And childhood memories of mine,
Oh time, you treated me so wrong.

Grandpa used to drink a bit,
And sometimes he’d get drunk
Then he’d dance an Irish jig,
He said he’d dance at my wedding,
But he died before I married,
As his coffin pallbearers carried,
I sang a soft Irish tune,
Dance the Irish jig,
Oh, grandpa, you died too soon.

Oh, time you moved too quickly by,
Taking love and laughter and Irish songs,
And childhood memories of mine,
Oh time, you treated me so wrong.

Grandpa used to drink a bit,
And sometimes he’d get drunk,
And he’d talk of God and heaven,
I wonder is God sings Irish songs,
With grandpa and do they dance
The jig, is there a chance,
Grandpa and God will share a drink,
And talk of Ireland so green,
It’s just something I like to think.

Oh time, you moved too quickly by,
Taking love and laughter and Irish songs,
And childhood memories of mine,
Oh time, you treated me so wrong.

Grandpa used to drink a bit,
And sometimes he’d get drunk,
And now I miss the Irish songs,
Dancing the jig with him,
Twirling round the kitchen floor,
We didn’t need anything more,
Grandma would smile,
As we danced and sang,
Laughing all the while.

Oh time, you moved too quickly by,
Taking love and laughter and Irish songs,
And childhood memories of mine,
Oh time, you treated me so wrong.

IN YOUR EYES

The night air was cool as we walked,
He held my hand tightly as we talked,
Of love and life and telling lies.
Then I told him I no longer loved him,
And he said, “Don’t you know the stars
Are brightest, when the moon is in your eyes?
When the moon is in your eyes.”

And I said, “I enjoyed the night,
Preferred the darkness to the light.”
The night wind mingled with my sighs,
I knew if he said he loved me,
Underneath the stars and moon,
He’d just be telling me more lies,
Telling me more lies.

We continued walking in the night,
Kissed and held each other tight,
Holding on while love dies,
Neither of us knowing why.
We were hanging onto memories,
And broken hearts and lies.
Broken hearts and lies.

I said, “Maybe we should say good-bye.”
Wasn’t prepared to see him cry,
Tears mingled with both our sighs,
We turned to walk our separate ways,
And he said, “Don’t you know the stars
Are always brightest, when the moon is in your eyes.
When the moon is in your eyes.”

I AM NOT GETTING OLD!

I am not getting old!
Just because I can’t remember your name
Or the day of the week
My mind is slowing, but not yet old!

I don’t know Tony Hawk,
Or Snoop Dog,
Or what kind of tool
An MC Hammer Is!

I do remember The Beatles,
Corner soda shoppes,
Juke boxes, noon day
Dances, and penny candy.

You laugh and say I have
What you call oldstimers disease
When I forget my words
Or lose track of my thoughts.

Kids shake their heads when
I ask, Britney who?
Or cover my ears and in my
Mothers voice say, you call that music?

Joan Baez, Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell,
They knew what music meant
Not just screaming words,
But representing the time and speaking out.

Reality TV? What is that?
What happened to Leave it to Beaver
Or when Father knew best
And Lucy! I’m home made us laugh?

Where are the corner stores and bakeries,
Children no longer play hopscotch
On busy city streets and going home when
The street lights come on means nothing now.

A play station was the tree everyone returned
To in hide and go seek when the person who
was IT called all in free! Do kids even play that now?
Yes, I am getting older, but! I am not getting old!

The Shadow or Final Breath by Bonnie Rivas

The Shadow - a Pantoum

The tree in the front yard looks bigger tonight
The locusts chirp louder than ever before
In the darkness I do not fear my plight
As the shadow crosses my door.

The locusts chirp louder than ever before,
The sound is almost fake,
As the shadow crosses my door,
I ask are you here to give or to take.

The sound is almost fake.
The shadow stares with piercing eyes,
I ask are you here to give or to take,
He just shakes his head and sighs.

The shadow stares with piercing eyes,
His hand slowly reaches for mine,
He just shakes his head and sighs,
I reach back but there’s nothing to find.

His hand slowly reaches for mine,
I find I’m changing too much,
I reach back but there’s nothing to find,
Yet he’s chilled my soul with his touch.

I find I’m changing too much.
He says I’ve danced this dance before,
Yet he’s chilled my soul with his touch,
Remember the dance, to remember more.

He says I’ve danced this dance before,
But was afraid of what I would find,
Remember the dance to remember more,
In the halls and corridors of my mind.

But I was afraid of what I would find,
He just shakes his head in disgust,
In the halls and corridors of my mind,
Will I find anything I can trust.

He just shakes his head in disgust,
But I follow him through the door,
Will I find anything I can trust?
He says he has to even the score.

But I follow him through the door,
Seeking life or seeking death,
He says he has to even the score,
As I take my final breath.

Seeking life or seeking death,
The locusts chirp louder than ever before,
As I take my final breath,
The shadow crosses my door.