The Man Who Waits Outside Our House

There was a man
Who waited
In his car
He waited outside our home
For hours if need be
As his daughter played within.

At first we only saw the cherub child
Little girl belly down on the floor
Yelling "Go Fish" with the volume
known to her kind.
We didn't know he waited.

When discovered he was entreated-
Come in! Come in!
And finally he came.

He waited because he worried
Two people essentially alone.
He waited because he had failed
Two people homeless and scared.
He waited out of experience
Of other children, ruined from lack of attention.

These stories spilled from him
Like a confession to a priest
Lacking absolution, forgiveness and redemption.

Dismissal

Time after time,
I speak to no one.
Sharing my thoughts,
For what?
To whom?
No one hears.
No one cares.

Fuck you.
If you hear not,
If you care not.
I am not an extension of you.
My mind is my own.
I am not owned,
Nor will not be brought down
By the weight of your dismissal.
I have needs.
I have a soul.
I will not betray it
By emptying myself,
Of thoughts, ideas of my own.

What, you may ask,
Of your marriage?
What, you may ask,
Is the value of your family?

If I am empty,
There is no wife.
There is no mother,
Merely an empty nodding puppet,
Where a person once stood.

Ignore me not, dismiss me not,
For I would not do so to you.

Confidence, or Lack Thereof

Doubt weasles in
Borne on the sound waves
Unleashed by careless tounges.

Why must hopes, dreams
Be tested by chance offerings
Of the most mundane fools.

If no, it may be, or yes
Let the verdict be spoken
In reverence,  by the revered.

Not tossed in gossipy tones
Hitting it's target like tossed refuse
Slung by the insignificant.

Talking to Myself In the Wee Hours

Damn it
Go to bed

Now

I mean it.

Shit, you'll hate yourself in the morning.

Zombie Heather will hate you.

Early Spring

Small buds
of green birth
seedlings popping
in window sill earth.

Bird party
in softened air
workable ground
sky blue and fair.

Woke up this morning
and what da ya know...
.
.
.
Snow.

The Bread Winner

How I miss you -
miss you
miss you.

How you were -
before the cares of creation
became your imagined burden.

Change is not always good.
Poverty is not always bad.

The price is not worth a broken product -
Beyond repair
Beyond care.

Preserve yourself before your bank balance. 

For Aunt Lorinda on Her Birthday

I wrote this when a group birthday announcement was posted honoring my late aunt's birthday. She passed away when I was 20 of cancer leaving behind her two teenage children. She was loved very much - not just by me but by everyone. Aunt Lorinda was a bit of a free spirit.

For Aunt Lorinda on her birthday

I'll see you behind the curtian -
across the great divide -
past the last bend in the road -
among the hosts you'll hide -

Where souls take breathless flight
and love envelopes all who travel there.
Where ended is life's hardscrabble fight,
with sorrows you no longer bear.

Freedom from pain and misery,
Cherish the incredible mystery,
God gives new life divine,
across the great divide.