Bat Haiku
Inspired by real life events.
Wise, night loving bat
Sonar doesn’t help it here.
Thunks against the glass
Sarah
Everyday magic
My last two posts were so serious, I had to write something stupid to make up for it.
“Great,” Edward said. “I can’t get the damn lever unstuck.”
“Oh,” Wendy said. “Should I try a spell?”
“I don’t know…”
“Oh, let’s try!” She said, suddenly enthusiastic. “I’ve been practicing.”
He grimaced in spite of himself. “I’m not sure. The lever already has a lot of magic in it just to work.”
“Pish posh,” she said. “Scootch over. Humbeldy bumbeldy wobbledy fobbledy bing bang boom, now move anyway you dumb old lever!”
The lever moved alright. It moved a full three hundred sixty degrees, and went around three times.
“Oh my god!” Edward screamed. “It can’t handle that much pressure! Run, Wendy, run!”
They ran, but they didn’t run fast enough. The whole house gave a deep metallic groan, the sound of a soul in anguish. They actually felt the walls around them bow with pressure. His ears popped.
And then the plumbing exploded.
Water and feces rained down on them both.
“Goddamnit Wendy,” Edward said. “Next time the magic toilet gets stopped up, just leave it to the professionals.”
“Don’t blame me,” Wendy said. “You broke the lever in the first place.”
“Great,” he said. “This is just great. We’re going to have to move out, get the whole system repaired.”
“I can seal the pipes,” Wendy said. “I know a spell for that.”
“No no no no no–”
“Pish posh,” she said. “Move out of the way.”
Elegy for Mom
My sister said I should post this. I wrote it right after Mom died. She suffered from mental illness for most of my life, and passed away from complications due to Huntington’s disease.
Mom–
You were my idol
You were a voodoo queen
An earth goddess
A diva
A madwoman
A sophisticate
A saint
Always with a touch of the divine
Though everything you said was unreal
You never lied
You were fragile
And strong
And so much a part of me.
I used to envy the kids who had normal moms
Even the adults who complained about their aging parents
But these days I know better.
You taught me how to wear my crazy well
You were a fast friend
And a devoted parent through the last moment of your life
Often you were
So much more than human.
I battle myself not to be like you
I push myself to be more like you
You were a dark enigma
Yet transparent as light
Gentle yet terrifying
When you lived I couldn’t handle the pain of your existence
Now that you’ve died I find the absence hard to bear.
I once thought I took more care of you than you did of me
But today I understand what you sacrificed to protect your children.
Your laugh echoes in my empty heart
Your spirit derails me still
Soundness
Another one for Mom
Mom
Was it four years ago
Only four
When you were in the kitchen, insisting on helping with the dishes
You took so long
Running the disposal dry for minutes at a time.
Was it three years ago
Only three
In the cold, you in your green trenchcoat and walker
And I took you to a Chinese restaurant
For your latest obsession, orange chicken.
You hugged the waitress and told her you loved her.
Was it two years ago
Only two
When I was feeding you ice cream in bed
Sugar free, but we didn’t tell you that.
You ate it all, every time if I let you.
You told us you weren’t sick.
Was it one year ago
Only one?
We’d asked you if you were done with meds
And you nodded an emphatic yes
One of the last things you said.
We held your blue fingers
And watched you fade.
I miss you
I miss you
I hated to see you suffer
I was glad you got to go
But I still miss you.
Days go by
I’ve made new friends
I’ve found new joys
I am blossoming in new ways
You would be proud
You were always proud.
I haven’t missed out on anything
But I miss so much.
You were always easy to talk to
You knew things
I bet everything I have uncovered for myself
You already knew.
