How oatmeal cured my insomnia (and other riveting stories)

[Janet]

Sally's Edge

A decade after Daddy leaves
the farm, Sally bangs the door
with her metal footrests.

A spider eases its way
into her home. Sally sweats,
frantically texts her son
who doesn't answer
till her battery's dead.

Sally wheels to the edge,
leans over and blows off
a dandelion's head.

The farm yawns, a leaf
races downstream
like she used to.

[anita.a]

I love the way you write your poems. Some of them squeezed at my heart and some left me thinking...I liked 'When I find myself', 'How to divorce a narcissist' and 'Thirteen' . But, the best is 'Innerracial' , the beginning and the ending...

Dark irises hide my pupils.
Tan describes me
not what I do.

Dad's dark like Lebanese lattae.
Except for religion, business or politics.
Then he does everything white.

[Julie]

Hi, Janet,

These poems feel very personal, and revelatory. That's risky, but I think you're mostly successful in allowing the reader in and not drowning them in inconsequentialities.

Enjoyed (even the uncomfortable ones).

[M]

Janet, I see you're still going strong! Four powerhouses in a row with the note to your future self (again, I can so relate -- thinking of how much had to be undone before life could start is such a truth for me), thirteen (when I kneel in church line gave me chills), dreams (young, I know nightmares -- powerful insight), and I enjoyed Sally's Edge (great line break on blowing the dandelion's head off), and it ends with a very strong image in Sally sitting in her wheelchair remembering how she used to run. I'm looking forward to whatever's next!!

[Jee Leong]

"Go down like sunset." Yum. Adrena Lin and friends. Yum yum. The latest, "Sally's Edge" is very sharp.

[Mike M]

I like the raw emotion of the angrier pieces. favorite lines so far: "Sally wheels to the edge,
leans over and blows off
a dandelion's head."

Good stuff

[Janet]

Thank you Anita, M, Jee and Mike. It's great all of your threads too. I must be a glutton for something--- I love NAPO!

Self-decor (transitional objects)

Bring me black suede
now that he's gone,
adorn me with mules,
soft with a skyward
hike. Let bands
arch over my feet
like rainbows, cradle me
with easy soles,
brand me rebel.

[Janet]

Social Injustice

I give him time when
he calls. The cushion
of my headset fails
comfort- we both know
I'm the lucky one
in this story.

I've no image of Mr. Jones
or his after-the-fire lot,
just a mental snapshot,
the facts, a summary of loss-
a request.

Anymore, I don't speak the language
of false hope but I'm there till
Mr. Jones' dream wears him out.

When we hang up all I can do
is click save.

[Julie]

"adorn me with mules"

Since I hadn't yet grasped it was about shoes, this gave me a hilarious image!

[Janet]

Glad you got a giggle out of that, Julie


Zapped

You say I’m a delicacy that blooms,
makes your center feel tender,
say I wear a rainbow like an eclipse.

When I show you what Shelly's
elephant taught me, you show
me your trunk. I make art
out of a straight face.

Later, when your tucked-away
shadow peaks, you declare
sunsets are ugly, throw a styrofoam cup
out the window.

My backbone fails, I get
dustier than the dream
where I burn Mother's ikebana
and drag her to church.
You’re asleep when I attack.

You drop my apology in a dirty martini,
lie in Confession, call yourself
a casualty, call me a tragedy.
I double your edge, purr-
come to life
when I blink
the lights flicker.

[Janet]

From Scratch

I fight like a dandelion,
raise a son from dirt.
You say, throw out your corundum,
baby turn off your ringer I'll
make life easier for you let me
shine your diamond, baby.

When our marbles get closer
you crack the earth,
anchor my wish. We train
to be fish. You hand me tulips
and bundles of stems, crumple
bottles in the palm of your hand.

Then one day when I do something
you arch your brow,
shoot an arrow at heaven.

In my dream there's a dandelion
seed on my bicep. My boy jumps
in puddles that sprout
in a mosasaur’s ocean.

I taste your prehistoric dust. By the time
our petals have dried,
your Bible won’t even
speak to me.

[Janet]

Gray Scale

The vultures are silhouettes,
black, enthroned by lamp posts,
unfettered by rain or the contrast
between me and a homeless man
trudging along the median
of a grey bridge.

I look in the back seat,
ribboned gifts are stacked, while
all the man owns fits in the garbage
bag slung over his shoulder.

In the front seat, without looking up,
my boy reads, "Look, Corundum's
ninth on Moh's hardness scale,
the next is diamond."

[Janet]

Fruit & Nuts

When I ask if he wants some
of my creamy nutrient dense fruit,
he calls it bland, says it looks weird,
holds up a cross sign. I slice and pull
it apart, blade to pit, spoon out the flesh
then mash and pass it under his nose,
say, “Mmmmm....fresh,” but he can’t take
his eyes off his pistachios.

[Donner]

Hi, Janet,

You write well about the yin and yang, the ups and downs of relationships, even those where two people are just faceless voices on two ends of a phone line, which can be a relationship however short lived. I often get calls for assistance where I work, so I relate well to that uncomfortable tug when all you can do is listen, perhaps refer the person to an agency that can check their circumstances and perhaps help. (Churches are often the target of scams, so we have to be discerning along with being compassionate.) That yin and yang element shows up again and again, in "Zapped", "From Scratch", "Gray Scale" where the relationship momentarily develops from seeing a homeless man, and "Fruit and Nuts", a different take on the "men are from Mars and women are from Venus" conundrum.

We're into the home stretch!

Donner

[Janet]

Hi Donner- so true about the discerning verses compassionate. I hadn't thought about yin and yang as it relates to my writing but now that you mention it, makes sense. Really appreciate your taking the time to stop by and comment. Home stretch indeed