Were you always there?

Were you always there?

Yesterday I noticed; as I was sitting at my desk,
a noise. Not grotesque.

Have you always been there?
This realization should I really share?

With lunch, I almost always drink a pop.
Carmel colored, effervescent goodness don’t stop.

Have you always been there?
To my ear, you do bare.

Should I have a memory of this sound?
Pop, pop, bubble, bubble! A different sizzle my ear has found.

Pop the top as the effervescents sings.
As old new sounds this hearing aid does bring.

What other old new sounds will I hear?
What other sounds will turn those gears?

https://byjolenerice.wordpress.com/2022/11/23/your-disability/

Where did you leave me?

Front door.

Carport.

Dock.

Receiver.

Office.

Reception.

Inside delivery.

Front desk.

Will I be found?

Where did you leave me?

Is it cold?

Wet?

Dark?

Will a pleasant voice greet me?

Will soft hands hold me?

Will someone steal me?

Was I lost?

Thrown in a ditch?

Lost overboard?

Slipped between the seats?

Wrong place all together?

Where did you leave me?

10

Most of the time; I have to peel,

back the layers to discover if they are real.

Memories of times long past.

That were not a blast.

For a fact I knew; at 10, my little world changed.

From childhood, I became estranged.

At 10, work was introduced. Not for “the man”, as it were.

No wonder much of childhood is a blur.

By the time I was born, dad was self-employed.

Adulthood was no longer toyed.

What happened at 10?

The people closest to me think I may bend,

my memories from time to time.

At 10, work might be a crime?

In my 30’s the doctor did say,

you have the spine of someone in their 70’s. Did you play,

sports?

People who started athletics young, this I do report.

Not me. I wasn’t allowed.

L4 and L5 are out of line. Bulged,

out of whack.

From a life time of labor, quacked.

What happened when I was 10?

It sticks out in my mind. Back to that age, over and over again.

My joints and muscles are stiff and sore.

I get stove-up. Surely I’m a bore.

One time in my life, dad told me he was proud.

Not college. Not a car. Not a job. When I bought my first house, he said it out loud.

What happened when I was 10?

That mom stopped protecting me and sent me into the pen?

“If you’re old enough to eat, you’re old enough to work”!

Surely that memory isn’t real. It must be a quirk.

What happened when I was 10?

You were born! And I became a sin.

https://byjolenerice.wordpress.com/2022/10/30/honor-thy-parents/

https://byjolenerice.wordpress.com/2022/11/18/excommunicated/

Temporary Freedom

100 words

One pleasant fall evening, I decided to build a spice rack. After gathering my supplies, I hooked up my dog then got busy.

Unbeknownst to me, a humanless dog went strolling by. With the strength of a Shetland Pony, my 10 pound chihuahua broke his lead.

Fat girl; armed with a cellphone flash light, is panting after a speeding chihuahua in the dark.

I found him. Chasing Freda lost his interest. He was frantically trying to find another scent; his 15 foot lead in tow.

I got my dog and didn’t need an ambulance. Praise God!

Submitted to Readers Digest 8-13-2021.

Full story was posted Oct. 17, 2022.

https://byjolenerice.wordpress.com/2022/10/17/temporary-freedom/

Broken Hearted 72

Ever had a broken heart?

Brute force ripped my heart out , clogged danced on it in the mud, then returned it.

Newly baptized. Zeal for God on fire. I weaponized the Bible. Saturating it with blood and sweat. My feeble arms ached. SHOW no mercy!

As my Christianity has matured, it was NOT RIGHT to use God to vindicate my broken heart.

I pray God allows me to apologize.

*

72 words including title “Revenge” #287

http://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com

I think I’m a little late to the party.

Jealous of my dog

Jealous of my dog

Can you believe, I’m jealous of my dog?
He gets to lay around like a log.

I have to get up and out in all the weather.
All of my supplies, I must gether.

Out the door. In the car.
While he stays all snug and warm, not moving far.

He might poke out his nose. Or uncover and ear.
3 inches of rain, I did hear.

Why? Why can’t I stay home all snug and warm?
No! Out into the world, I must go perform.

Rain, snow, ice, extreme temps galore.
And some days it’s really a bore.

I know I’d have so much more fun at home.
Maybe even get to draw a gnome.

We need a roof. A bed. And food on the table.
So as long as I’m able;

I schlump out in the rain or cold.
For a great number of days untold.

I’m so jealous of my dog.
Now, I get to drive to work in the fog.

Dreams of Old

I have often wondered how things would be,

if my dreams came to me?

They are just out of reach. Winged creatures,

without features.

Just when I start to see their wings glowing blue gleam,

farther and farther away they seem to stream.

Just out of reach, they tease and taunt me.

Never really letting me see.

Some are darting around on pieces of wings.

Pinched off by a reflex, so that dream to me could only sing.

Enough of it’s song to keep it alive.

A taste so small, to keep me deprived.

There is one big dream I have never held.

Each time I try, I always seem to fail.

Perhaps I am attacking it wrong.

But still, in the distance, it sings its song.

Sirens of the deep,

that much to often make me weep.

Two of my endless dreams I have captured.

In the big picture, one hasn’t brought much rapture.

Each little dream I add to my potion,

perhaps will calm my emotional ocean.

Taken from ‘The Reconstruction of Me’. A collection of poems I started in the early 2,000’s. Not a published book.