Here is a helping of poems for this week’s Poetry Potluck. http://jinglepoetry.blogspot.com. Tell me what you really think, will get around to changing “freaking’ on my last Potluck offering and answering everyone too!
An Ambidextrous Life
My interests are like my hands, ambidextrous;
And I have never met anyone else ambidextrous.
I take up my pen with my left hand,
but use my scissors with the right.
I think it’s day but secretly wonder if it might be night.
My thoughts make rain in the sunlight,
and stars that glimmer in a tempest.
Sometimes I’m an old woman,
sometimes I’m a little girl.
The piece that doesn’t fit the puzzle,
the flag that won’t unfurl.
I want to belong to being me,
to not care about the difference,
it will be less lonely,
peace in my mind’s resistance.
Do you ever wonder what happens to the wishes
pinned to pennies
tossed into a fountain?
The pennies settle
on the bottom,
do the wishes
settle there too?
Maybe the wishes
float to the top,
Maybe the wishes
corroding like copper coins.
If the pennies are stolen,
are the wishes
snatched away too?
Maybe the wishes for love
never come true.
Wishes to restore a life distorted
never again will be whole?
A penny is just a penny,
you reassure me.
Wishes never really go away.
I have a confession to make,
as though my very soul is at stake.
I have to admit,
and hope I don’t roast on a spit,
or, hell, just throw me into a pit,
where for eternity I will sit;
But I really must admit,
This Rapture thing.
I’m not so ready for it.
The Fundies have their bets on 2012,
the Mayans did too,
Someone says this May without delay,
as birds drop from the sky, FLOP!
I’m not so ready for the Rapture
or those raptors falling down, eww.
Blondie sang about the Rapture,
Dante put in his two cents on hell too,
Will the Left Behind authors laugh
when I know not what to do?
Rapture, I’m not so ready,
mercy for me I implore you.
Will I really have to watch
as others disappear in the clouds,
knowing that in heaven I’m not allowed?
I try to be good, God.
But I am of the world that you put me in.
I don’t want to be left behind,
but I don’t want to leave yet either.
I want to love someone and be loved ,
I want to matter somehow in the world,
and maybe be an author (eh, why not?).
Alas, I’ve done neither.
I’m not so ready for the rapture yet,
can we postpone it a bit?