Day: February 18, 2018

Chosen

Why did I pick you
To maybe write about
To maybe read my words
Even though I don’t know you?

You say you’re not special
You say you’re not worth my time
You say you don’t like poetic prose
And poetry that doesn’t rhyme

Maybe I want to take a chance on you
Even though you may not take a chance on me
Even though our missed connection you may not rue
Maybe something wonderful in you I see

Perhaps there is beauty in your soul
Or a rich texture in your hard knocked life
“I am not that different” is what I wish you to know
I’ve tasted dishes best served cold and dined on both harmony and strife

With no expectation I bare my words
Wishing them only to be heard
Because I feel you are significant to me
Even though you may not like poetry

Surprised?

I am not surprised
That despite your disguise
You are capable of many things

Despite your cool persona
You sing songs like “My Sharona”
While driving alone in your car

When you joke around
You can be such a clown
But most of us know nothing

Of the depth of your laugh
Your humor is always fully staffed
But on mute so you won’t go too far

You do your best work
Without so much a quirk
That it seems that’s all there is to you

When the job is done
Is when you like to have fun
Like a weight lifting off your shoulders

Short-lived time with longtime friends
But when the weekend intermission ends
You don your game face again on cue

How do I know this?
Your game face I can dismiss
Because I am you only older

If I could

I’d write you a poem each day of the year–
But I can’t afford pen and paper
I’d make sure you got home safely from work–
But I don’t even know where you live
I’d go running just to greet you when you walk your dogs–
But I get winded after jogging for five minutes
I’d sing you a song on Valentine’s Day–
But I really hate singing
I’d bake you a cake for your birthday–
But I only have a microwave oven
I’d deliver your favorite lunch to you at work–
But I don’t even know where you work
I’d take you for a ride on a motorcycle–
But I don’t own a motorcycle
I’d like all of your social media posts–
But I don’t even know what social media is
I’d give you a CD of all the songs that remind me of you–
But that would be more expensive than pen and paper
If I could
I’d do all those things
Because it’s the thought that counts right?

For whom the bells toll

“Let me go”
Your mother said the same thing
Before she left us years ago
As I look at my little girl
Who’s her own woman now
And glance at the man
She proudly walks to–
A smile on his lips
And tears in his eyes–
I remember when
Your mother let me know
“Time is short so
Let’s see where this goes”
As we descended the chapel steps
Bells celebrating our beginning
So I let you go
Years ago
As you guided your bicycle
Like a wobbly-goblin
Down the sidewalk
I let go
When you boarded a plane
To find yourself
After your mother passed
And now I give you away
As your mother let herself go
To spend the rest of her life
With someone unexpected–
You glance over your shoulder
Like you did while riding the bicycle
Like you did before boarding the plane
Then give me that daddy’s girl smile
One last time
Before joining your husband
And just like that
The bells start to toll