Tag Archives: Poems

Going on a Vacation!

 

I’m going on a trip to the Grand Canyon! I leave early tomorrow, so just a few hours from now. I’m excited to see the beauty of a real desert. Checking it off the bucket list! 

I’ll be gone all next week and maybe the one after that. Please don’t expect me to an amazing, or consistent, or even existent blogger. I will return, with a scalp full of sand and a mind full of ventifact geometry.

Maybe this is a good time to post this one. Not even sure if it counts as a poem, just food for thought.

 


 

Running out of time

How much is left

To do what we want

To do what others want

What kind of a bucket list should we have?

 

Here is a bucket list written by a six-year-old.

 

– sit in hot tub

– visit grandma and grandpa

– catch frogs

– see a movie with mom

 

This is how simple life can be.

She has no agenda

No outside influence

On what a bucket list should say.

Her world is small and rich.

No popular tourist destinations

No huge purchases

No revenge 

No regrets.

All she wants

Is to spend her time doing what she enjoys

With people she loves.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

The Dinosaur

 

The dinosaur
Is so old
Its rheumy eyes
Can barely see out the cave.
The dinosaur
Makes no efforts toward the light
The dinosaur
Grumbles quietly to itself
And wishes it were dead
But makes no efforts toward death either.
It continues
Doing nothing
Never changing.
Trapped
In a world of its own making.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

What stories can do

 

We live in loneliness
Anger, laughter, fear, love
We all have loss
We all seek redemption.

Upon these commonalities
Stories are built.
Strong foundations.
Because life as a human
Is also about what we share.
We need this sharing
To feel the same,
To remember that we belong,
To eliminate the loneliness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

For the Unwanted Children

 

For the unwanted children:
All the sparklike souls who have been wished, prayed, gut punched out of existence
The ones we feared we couldn’t feed
The ones our bodies couldn’t survive
The ones our shame would make the bearing of unbearable
The ones who sensed something wrong through the umbilicus
Swallowing too much adult stress
Growing into a faulty womb
Or missing some vital element
Feeling that they are too sick already, or misshapen
Who, being incapable of tenacity
Threw themselves into the sharp cold air or the filthy toilet water
Their parents ignorant, never knowing nor suspecting
That their future has just been protected
By their potential progeny.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

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