I Cry For Her

 
I carry gifts to my dear friend and her sons, from their wayward husband and father. Alha is a friend of my husband first, on meeting Sophia his wife, a beautiful friendship bonded between us, which spans across the seas. Now for almost eight years, her husband lives in New Jersey and she and her three boys in Egypt.
I carry a closed white plastic bag for her from this wayward man, for who she has been waiting these long eight years to return. With care she opens this white bag to find all the pictures of herself. I feel her pain swell within her, yet she closes the bag, and continues to speak, stands tall, and does not allow her tears to invade her eyes. Yet I know they are in her heart. I feel like I have betrayed her – yet I knew not of the contents of this tiny white plastic bag. If I had known, I would have thrown it in his face. How dare he do this to this beautiful and wonderful woman? And to do this by giving it to me is unforgivable.
She stands tall and bids good bye
And I cry for her.
©8/6/1999 Ellenelizabeth Cernek-Kashk

APRIL 28, 2010 POEM A DAY (BALANCING ON LINE)

For today's prompt, write an end of the line poem. Maybe the narrator of your poem is at the end of his or her line. Other possible lines that have an end: assembly lines, phone lines, power lines, rail lines, graph lines, dotted lines, waiting lines, lines of poetry, etc.

Balancing On Line

In the glooming time
Where day exhales the
Last of the oranges
And the night inhale
The violets of darkness
There you will find
Where reality and magic
Can both be seen

In the dawn
Where night exhales the
Last of ebony
And the day inhales
The first of gold

Where magic and reality
Both will find
Me balancing on the line

Where one can hear rainbows

APRIL 22, 2010 POEM A DAY CHALLENGE (EARTHEN CONNECTION)

For today's prompt, write an Earth poem. You can decide what an Earth poem is. Maybe it's a poem about the planet; maybe it's actually the lowercase earth (a gardening or burial poem?); maybe it's just a poem that happens on (or to) Earth; maybe it's even written in the voice of extraterrestrials (that might be fun). No matter how you decide to roll with it, have a very poetic Earth Day!



Earthen Connection

I take the pitch fork out from hibernation
It has been there, in the dark corner since last spring
Hands garbed in green and white poke-a-dotted gloves
I take the sturdy handle in my right hand
And stab it into the compose of the winter
Turning each fork-fill like pancakes on a griddle
It is an act of cleansing the soil
Worms, bugs slitter and crawl by
From my rude and unannounced calling
Now with the new clean soul, I bend to my knees
In homage, to remove any stones I have shuttled to the top
Rhythmically I make straight rows
With my hands reaching deep into the soil
Tenderly, I arrange all the vegetables in order
Placing their new born roots into the holes
Covering them with care and love of the newly cultivated soil
I wipe my brow and smudge dirt across it
My knees have been blackened with my hours of work
I am exhausted
I turn on the hose
Cool the top of my head
And sun burnt back
Turn slowly and spray my new veggie garden
The pleasure of self grown veggies, or a fresh rose,
Iris, daffodil, chamomile, mint or sage beyond my door
Allows me, my private earthen connection.

APRIL 21, 2010 POEM A DAY CHALLENGE (ACCORDING TO)

For today's prompt, take the phrase "According to (blank)," replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write the poem. Example titles might be: "According to Bob," "According to these instructions," "According to the government," "According to the sun," etc.

April 21, 2010


According To:

According to the Gremlins
Hanging off my earlobes
I cannot get it posted today

According to the Mother
It is proclaimed that I am always wrong
According to the doctors
Mom needs a feeding tube
According to mom’s appetite
At the nursing home she was not being fed
According to me (being wrong)
The nurses were just lazy
According to her weight gain
I must be doing something right

According to Medicaid
Mom should not have gifted her monies
According to the system
She should get it all back
According to economical times
The money is long since spent to survive
According to Medicaid
Mom is denied services, just sent home to die

According to the children
They complained that I was an absentee mother
According to the shrinks of County Child Services
The boys were never touched
According to my Québec weekend vacation
Years later, one child did confess
According to the years of bad behavior
Their uncle got 10 years

According to my dentist
Soon I’ll have no teeth
According to x boyfriends
I have bad wiring in my head
According to the shrinks
I am working with half my brain
According to my doctors
I need to lose lots a weight
According to my mirror
I am still 112lbs, but
According to my scale
It just pops and screams
According to the coroner
He could pronounce me dead

According to my Pop
I was his Pocahontas, a graceful, barefooted, free spirit
According to my old man
I must be part redneck, with bare and dirty feet
He does not see the Pocahontas in me

According to my Presa Canario (135lbs dog)
I take up too much of my own bed
According to my lover
I am insatiable in between the sheets

According to some of my actions
I’m sure to burn in Hell
According to some others
I’ve guaranteed a right hand seat next to God
According to my life
Maybe Purgatory will just do.

According to the self
It is ordained that I am always right.
According to my life’s story
It sounds like I’ve been in therapy for years
According to my sanity
Writing is all that saved me.

APRIL 17, 2010 POEM A DAY CHALLENGE (HORROR, THE LAST CITY DEADLINE FOR A SCIENTIFIC MIND) (10,11,12,15,17 COMBINED)

2010-04-17
http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides

For today's prompt, write a science poem. Science encompasses a lot, so your poem doesn't have to be scientific to still be a science poem. For instance, you could have a poem titled something like "The Science of Love," and then examine a relationship. Voila! A science poem! Of course, it'll be interesting to see how many poets talk about volcanoes and single cell organisms, not to mention finding out how many "mad scientists" are out there.

Something I'm working on

Day 10 Horror Day 11 the last blank Day 12 city Day 15 deadline poem Day 17 science

HORROR, THE LAST CITY DEADLINE FOR A SCIENTIFIC MIND

The Scientific Mind Asks?
I'm empty, but filled with these words like

Where does your mind start and your soul begin?
Music and lyrics
Crosses our souls
Reaches through time and space
To that moment.
Then we laugh, cry, or just smile
For the Moment Captured!

Do the memories of the self, produce a life?
Our fingerprints won't fade on the lives' we have touched
As she passes the waiter he spins around,
She gently stops him with her palm against his chest,
He grabbed her hand, asking
"Do you care to dance?"
She replied "only the tango, on a full moon lit night"
She smiles, he grins the moment is fades.
“Color My World” Cousin Lauren playing her flute,
Eyes closed, I am there again.

Why would it turn out to have Horror woven within it?
Many Prayers
Say as many prayers as you want,
But at 86 she's almost shinning the gates with her breath
As She sits in a medical bed in middle of my dining room

Is the home where the physical body lives?
I have landed on the island of the misfit toys.
Or the last city you lived in?

Why across the street I had a dream, and my dreams are always across the street?
Like the strobe of the cursor, lulling you to sleep past your deadline
Always seeing the same time each night 4:23AM
Or the river of life catapulting (ME /YOU)
Onto the rocky estuary before the entrance of the sea of eternity.

Is a deadline where we expire?
It appears we have a problem of some magnitude
Our dead are demanding

Will we travel faster without armor?
Yes because I have immortalized you in words
Which are memorized and taught to dissolve once they hit my tongue?
I have been told I am logorrhea, Chatty Kathy that’s me

APRIL 9, 2010 POEM A DAY CHALLENGE (FREE SPIRIT)

2010-04-09

http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides

For today's prompt, write a self-portrait poem. Other artists study themselves to create compositions (not all of them exactly flattering either), so it is only natural that poets, who are word artists, write self-portrait poems from time to time. In fact, some poets make self-portrait poetry "their main thing." For at least today, make it yours.

Free Spirit

I am the soul that belongs
To no one and everyone simultaneously

I am that being, that is
Inhaled and exhaled

As easily as all require oxygen
I am the seer of the fortune,

Like the sunken Titanic
Seeing all and giving nothing

I am the wild gypsy
Dancing with No spotlight

As the full moon hides
Behind a heavy veil of clouds

I am that free spirit
Mother always warned you about!

APRIL 6, 2010 POEM A DAY CHALLENGE (WITCHES AND POCAHONTAS) "TWO FOR TUESDAY"

2010-04-06

http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides

Today is the first Tuesday of April, which means it is also the first "Two for Tuesday" prompt of the month. Poets can choose to write one of the prompts, or they can write both. Personally, I usually just choose one.

For this prompt, write an ekphrastic poem. According to John Drury's The Poetry Dictionary, ekphrastic poetry is "Poetry that imitates, describes, critiques, dramatizes, reflects upon, or otherwise responds to a work of nonliterary art, especially the visual." So, I've provided links to two pieces of art, and I want you to pick one (or both) to write an ekphrastic poem. (It would be helpful for you to mention which art you picked.)

1.) Pocahontas, by Annie Leibovitz

2.) Flight of the Witches, by Francisco de Goya



Witches and Pocahontas

I had a dream last night
My sister witches
Levitated above my head
With mother, gone and forgotten
As they ascended
They throw magical dust
Covering me like a blanket
Keeping me safe.
It is not your time yet
There is much to do.

No Sisters are they really
I am no witch.

I am the last female wizard,
Of your magic
Not the same.
But thank you
Your well weaved spells
To send me on ahead.

My spirit is the wind
That caresses Pocahontas raven hair
My touch is being
Barefooted, and as graceful as a doe.
My love is a ship in a harbor
Always safe and warm.
My life is the forest
Tall Green and alive.
Look around
To find all of me.

APRIL 4, 2010 POEM A DAY CHALLENGE (OBSCURE PASSING OF ECHOING TIME)

2010-04-04

For today's prompt, write a history poem. This could mean a poem about your country's history, the history of an event or a tool, or even your own personal history. Hey, you could even write about the history of a relationship. The history of everything is fair game. Have fun!

Obscure Passing of Echoing Time

As white rivers quietly
Rush in tandem,
Abandoned in a time forgotten
Captured in the sins of the mother
Forever disconnected
In the echoing time
Of then of now?

As I look into the blue gray sky
When the pinks and mauves
Of sunset has faded
And the darkness
Has yet arrived,
Staring up passed the blue spruce
Which have been here before I
And I shall leave before them.

The top most branches
Stilled defined before
Darkness swallows the
Last breath of daylight.

High above tiny white and red
Lights blink
A jet passes, with no sound,
Darkness breathes
Covering the world.

I am disconnected
As I witness the birthing
Of the first evening star.

Echoing to me
The obscure passing of time.