The Long Walk

I’m taking a quick break from the Memory Poems of my characters to post one of my own this week.  This was written during Poets at Play.

The Long Walk

She remembered hopping off the bus
some sixteen years ago
carrying her baby blue Jansport backpack
filled to the rim with binders and books,
something she bore on her shoulders
5 days a week, even in the rain.

It was raining then, water drops
came crashing down.  The wind
pushed her left and right.
It was as if Mother Storm
slapped her in the face with spit.

She opened her portable umbrella,
The useless flimsy thing
was no match for the wind,
being pulled inside out
this way and that way,
a broken fragile puppet of the wind.

She struggled to maintain control,
so it wouldn’t fly away,
while crossing the street
looking like a helpless mess,
as onlookers watched
from the safety of their cars.

Raindrops streamed down her face.
Rain pelted her clothes
from slanted angles.
Little drops of water
on her jeans 
were like dark blue dots
that grew into patches
that eventually covered the leg.

Her once dried socks
were wet and squishy.
Her once bright mood
became cloudy like the storm.
She made it home, soaking wet.

It was one of the longest

10 minute walks she’s ever taken
alone
with her friend, El Nino
during high school
in the early millennium.

Flash forward – 2016/2017,
the storm is coming,
school is closed.
Children deprived
of experiencing
these memories.

a-girlwalkinginrain
image from angelgran’s photobucket

The Encounter

Last month, I attended Poets at Play for the first time at the Markham House in History Park, San Jose.  It was nice to meet a small group of poets and spend a nice afternoon writing and discussing poetry.  The theme for the month was “memory.”  I was able to write two poems that afternoon and I will share one with you today, the one I didn’t read out loud.  A poet suggested writing memory from someone else’s perspective, so I decided to write this.  I hope you enjoy it.

The Encounter

Coming out of the trashcan,
I felt my fur on end…
a pair of eyes watching me.
She was there, the human,
looking at me, watching…
my every move.

I jumped back in,
I jumped back out.
I poked my head
around.
She was still there
watching me.

I scurried down the trashcan.
I scurried up a tree,
found a little nook
that was comforting to me.

I lost sight of her.
She lost sight of me,
or so I thought,
until I felt her eyes
once again, watching me.

I pretended not to see.
She pretended to let me be,
walking away,
so I could enjoy my day.

Maybe a squirrel and a girl
could be friends.

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Like the Ocean

6 months ago, I got married and the journey has been a beautiful one.  To celebrate our semi-anniversary, I wanted to post this love poem that I wrote for my husband 🙂

Like the Ocean

I love holding your hand
as we walk along the sand.
I love you like the ocean
loves the land.

You brighten my day
like sunlight,
with a simple text 
or a gentle caress.

You brighten my night
like moonlight,
with a kiss
and a touch.

In times of hardship,
you are the rock that supports me,
the wind that lifts me,
the flower that inspires me.

You make me alive
like the tide,
and that is why
I love you.

ocean

Frienemy

I haven’t been writing much these days, so in order to inspire myself to pick up a pen and write, I have decided to spend some time with The Poet’s Companion.  If you haven’t heard of this book, I highly recommend that you check it out.  It was a book that I bought for a college poetry class and it teaches you different writing techniques, and at the end of each chapter, it provides you with a list of writing exercises.  Every time you revisit the book, you are bound to write something new, as your thoughts, experiences and perspectives will change over time 🙂

I read the first chapter yesterday and did the first exercise, which was to list out memorable events from your life (big or small) and write a poem about it.  I ended up with this poem.

Frienemy

They run in a frenzy
from the cement to the grass,
from the grass to the cement.

A blur of black and white rushes
past you as fur brushes
against your leg.

Paw scrapes against cement.
You see a tuft of cotton
in his canine mouth.
Your heart skips
a beat.

Snow white fur,
no signs of blood,
but could he?
Would he…
take a life?

The chase continues –
Happy inches away,
just inches away,
from Hopper.

Exhausted,
Hopper collapses
in the wet grass.

Happy pounces…
his two front paws,
a mix of brown and black
over Hopper’s white body.

Content at his victory,
he simply lies there,
listening to the bird’s chirp.

The wind rustles their hair.
What a beautiful day…
with a frienemy.

The Sound of Change

Penny spins like a ballerina,
rhythmically, beautifully,
dangerously
as she slows… then speeds up,
getting lower and lower
to the ground,
flapping louder
and LOUDER
until she finally
falls
flat
in silence.

Heads or tails?
Coins flipping in mid-air,
sometimes elegantly,
sometimes clumsily,
falling to the ground
with a THUD.
50% chance.

The porcelain pig
shakes upside down,
rhythmically,
like a mother giving birth
to copper and silver coins.
Heads and tails pop out.
Pennies, nickels, dimes
fighting and squeezing
to get through the slot
in front of the smiling eyes
of a little boy.

Coins raining down
on the wet floor,
sparkling in the sunlight,
falling with gravity,
ting, ting, ting, ting, ting,
musically distracting,
musically awakening,
music to your ears.

Whether you have bills or not,
everyone can appreciate change.