Sunday, June 12, 2016

June 12, 2016 Sunday's Whirigig #63, and Poets United Poets Pantry/ Graphite On Paper --The Sunday Whirl #255/ Aunt Maggie's Farm


Graphite on Paper

the moments                           hours                         years

flash before me            yet... in the rear view mirror          hard to recall breakfast

or the thoughts of last week                writing helps                  creates a map

better than breadcrumbs         for marking the way home           yes...i was lost

uneasy                         struggled to stay on course      i am beginning the third year

since you left...                    passed...                         DIED



the word so hard to use         so hard to hear          makes a tangle of every sentence

life has no effect at all           on death                          it will come on schedule

the day circled on the calendar     marks the date   the day unknown to us

 but oh....death does effect life                      distorts all that you know

my life has been altered...          my sister came                             held my hand

said goodbye to you...              to me                                   i remember going home



the flight to denver           flying above the earth                      the dark storm ahead

lightening flashed on the horizon       a jagged line             drawn by hand

the missed connection       no way to get home          like you, all i wanted was to go home

after midnight             all night in the cold airport            it was as if the universe was saying

you thought this day bad       and that is not all...                  there are still storms ahead

the future unknown to me         i wonder...                               would i have continued

if i had known                      what was ahead                                     would anyone



still....in the quiet of morning    the explosion remembered      the howling splits the silence

i cover my ears                      count to three                                        open my eyes

it is a new day                     the sun is shining                i can see no movement on the mesa

my life is less without you        no food that satisfies             i am left lonely

i draw the emptiness of my life        with a pencil                             graphite on paper


June 12, 2016

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Aunt Maggie's Farm

the words familiar                                  splattered on the page

read what you wrote                and indeed i see my words

are out of date                   last week's news

it is a mystery                           question without answer

i am left wondering                    where you found these words

perhaps in an old snuff tin                 with lithographed face

an old man with scar on his chin    or in the empty butter churn

no longer in use                  the stalls empty too

the cows sold long ago               no one lives there anymore

the fruit trees in the orchard           grow wild

lemons fall to the ground       rot                  aunt maggie's farm

only reminds in memory             the long chats on the porch

the squeaks from the rocker                   rocking back and forth

on long afternoons                        the windmill whirring

the hot summer wind                            we dig out from the dust

that piles by the barn                    smirk at the chickens

that strut in the yard                            so proud of the eggs

pearly white                                               gathered in the basket

kept by the door                                           the trim farm remains

chiseled in the memory of a little girl who often played there

Jane 12, 2016

Note:  I went to the site, The Sunday Whirl, and found the words...I thought, though they looked familiar...the past few weeks I have not always found a place for the words in my writes.  I worked hard and this week I used all the words.  Then when I went to Elizabeth's site, I realized my words were out of date.  I returned to the Sunday Whirl, and still the words were the same...so I took the words Elizabeth listed and wrote another piece?  Still wondering?  But it was fun to return to my Aunt's Farm where I used to play.

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Father's Day

i would like to send a card to my father               post office unknown

where do people go when they die              leave no forwarding address

if they are somewhere      what do they do      how do they pass the time

is worry a part of heaven     or only left behind               for others to do

he was always busy      and if he is somewhere       i think he is busy still

he never said no         when asked for a favor         ...except that one time

you explained              sounded so reasonable                  at the time

but things change     time changes everything             one can speculate

about the after life        unknown         until you experience it for yourself

a simple man             no pretense                                got right to the heart

no beatin' around the bush     so my card would be plain     just the facts mam

i miss you everyday          your my daddy                          hold me tight

June 12, 2016

Note:  I wish I could send a Father's Card to my Father....so this little poem will have to do.

































6 comments:

  1. Your poem is pioneering - the notion of graphite on the page and all the feeling that you have injected into that - so very hard and yet also so very beautiful

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  2. Annell what can I say...the first piece was how I felt when my dad died....I just took in the scenes as if they were playing on a screen...I was numb. And the Father's Day card just sent me bawling...I often just want to say hello and send a card to my daddy...thank you again for your beautiful honest words!

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  3. Your beautiful poem of loss drew me in, my friend. And then I enjoyed the visit to Aunt Maggie's farm, rocking on the porch. Your father sounds like a fine man. My grandpa was such a man, quiet, and did so much for others. I was most struck with what moved Jae - the graphite on paper, where the artist makes sense of her world.

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  4. That graphite on paper is so very important. You draw the need, then express it. I like your Aunt's farm. I also wish to send a Father's Day card, yours made me cry a bit. Thank you,

    Elizabeth

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  5. Early words were provided by Elizabeth on Facebook but they never appeared on the Sunday Whirl site. My piece is still waiting. In your first poem I would say you "fill" the emptiness of your life following your sadness for it is surely therapeutic. I absolutely adored "Aunt Maggie's Farm".

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