Annika, at three years old, is awestruck at:


Annika, at three years old, is awestruck at:

Giant beings
Thunderous clappings

Father’s hands
Mom’s commands

Cyclone’s howl
Wasp’s sharp jowl

Crushing weights
Slamming gates

Clanging locks
Darkness’ knocks

Mysteries
Fantasies

But, most of all,
Mother love
Father love
Brother love!

Quicksilver Sings Armenian

Quicksilver
sings
Armenian.

For
love
of
Bob!

Finds
her
fuchsia.

Fashions
astral
pink
in
space.

What to Do When Seatbelted Too Long

Defy the Captain of the plane;
Add your own extender.

Go to the head
Anyway.

Scream for HELP!
Everyone else feels claustrophobic!
Harmonize the tantrum.

Try walking up the wall,
back of the seat,
to music.
Yoga release.

Pass the shrimp ring around;
They’re all sick of peanuts and pretzels
Especially after four hours of turbulence
and an ORDER not to move around the cabin.

Try conversation
with someone new;
Someone who broke her spine when tossed into the ceiling of the plane
and ruptured four discs.

Then breathe deeply.
Reach down for grounding at 10,000 feet.

Clap loudly
when you land safely
Alitalia style!!!!!

NOW

Now
is
the
hour,
the
minute,
to be
born
again
in
water
and
spirit.

A
gift
for now;
not
later
or
long ago,
but NOW!
Remade!
Changed!
Sanctified!

Recovery

Abusive taskmasters
dominate;
enforce
hegemony.
They render us
worthless.
Below
elemental.

The God of Peace and Righteousness
elevates
by
gentle calm:
tranquility.
He values us
to gold,
above stones, iron
brass and silver.

Up
we rise,
from mineral
to iron
to metal
to lustre.
Polished
by His grace.

Summer

June’s Poem:

Summer
simmers.

Seems like
boiling greens
sloughs off essence
of spring:
organic orgasm!

Jeanne Poland
All rights

Zither

Zoom in
to zither’s
whisper.

Tunes
moon
swoon
boom!

Plucked
strings
quiver
shiver;
touch your tendons
musically!

No Man Is An Island

For some,
financial stability
and spiritual autonomy
enable a solitary life,
a living single,
a “light on the feet”
free to climb stamina.

Living alone
provides
restoration, privacy,
solitude and space
but also hunger for contact,
and anxiety about crisis survival.

It cultivates the
cult of individual rules,
a sparsity of shared responsibility and
civic leadership.

Beware!
Digital communications are
ranty, dishonest and weird.
Real world interactions
force us
to deal with a diversity
not found virtually.

The virtual community
lives in
“the half light”.

Texting
doesn’t replace phone;
e-mail distracts from the face-to-face.

We need
to summon ourselves
by ourselves.

Trained by the Net,
solitude eludes us.
Without training,
we cannot manage the
complex forms of engagement,
and easily withdraw.

Without fierce autonomy,
we cannot heal our wounds.
Confessing on line
doesn’t work.
Healing needs a touch,
an organic space,
time to grow,
root,
blossom.

More than a whoosh
a beep
a ping!

A seed in the dark earth,
rain and sun,
dewdrops on seedlings,
new growth:
EARTHLINGS!!!!!!

All rights
Poland

Distractable Don

Don has remote fever.
So many remotes:
opening recorders
monitors
garage doors
DVD players
alarms
cabinets
locks
phones
and
Jeanne.

She’s crammed in his bulging pockets
with hard boiled eggs
spoons
jelly candies
more remotes
rechargeable batteries
Sudoku books:
treasures
to spark his passion.

Jeanne adjusts
to the rhythm
on his hip.
Gladly
rides
her favorite thigh.
Oh my!!!!!!

Isn’t it pleasing when things fit together so variably, so neatly, so interlockingly coupled?

The toy bricks look like the beds I’ve slept in with my men.

From army cot
to single
to double.

From futon
to waterbed
to back-saver
to Tempepedic.

From hammock
to tent floor
to queen size
and more.

To twin size
and
water-proof
allergy-proof
snore-proof
individual bliss!
4/26/12

Jeanne Poland

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