I do not wish to be Queen of the Universe directing everything and everyone I do not even wish to be a yenta with the happiness of a village in my hands But I see a good man, alone and a woman disappointed, betrayed again and again and my heart aches for these two And I think it would be so easy, such a natural thing, and I would like to have a chessboard or Parcheesi board and simply arrange the game pieces so that everyone lives happily ever after. Note: The Yiddish word for matchmaker is actually "shadchan", while "yenta" is an old, busybody. I used the word, "yenta" though, because I thought since Fiddler on the Roof it was more familiarly aligned with matchmaking.
Poetry
Wondering
As the sun sinks below the horizon its colors bleeding into black I sit on the fence, part of me reaching forward part of me pulling back Just a stone’s throw from salivation wondering if I want to be saved or spent
#44
Does your heart
break open
on a regular
basis?
Do you ever
find yourself
weeping
in the back
aisle
of a bookshop?
Do you ever
see
a person
on the street
and have
to look away
because you are
overcome
with
sadness?
Me too
Friday 55 – Super Secret
I keep my cool incognito sort of like Clark Kent. No one knows that I am the ultimate badass. I hide it under layers of flannel and grey hair. I hide it very well but take no chances so occasionally I throw in a klutzy move or an awkward encounter. No one suspects a thing.
The Sunday Muse – 156
The voices in my head all agree it’s time. They whisper then laugh at me and my feeble attempts to navigate through another day another labyrinthian set of interactions with my fellow humans. Why is it so difficult? How can I find the courage yet again to face each one, when every meeting, every conversation, is a pit with sharpened sticks waiting for me to fall and impale myself upon them? Others don’t even notice the red, neon signs “DANGER” that begin blinking above their heads as soon as I walk up to them. So once again, I prepare to go out, prepare to do battel with everyone who is going about their business so casually, so comfortably. For them it’s easy-peasy. They have no idea just how harrowing it is, how exhausting it is, every damn day. This is written for http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2021/04/sunday-muse-156.html.
Spring
Early April, and warm enough
to keep the windows open overnight
and so we wake to birdsong,
which is more of a repeated chirrup
than a song.
It reminds me of a dripping faucet
if the droplets sounded sharp.
Still, the air feels mild
and smells of rain.
This is spring – gentle, yet sharp.
April Fool
Sunday Morning Thoughts
Take a walk around the lake
and think about things
Not your heart rate
or your calories burned
but the things you push out
of your mind
all the rest of the time
Like where have all
the years gone
how much time have you
exchanged for cash
and when will you begin
to live?
Don’t Confuse Me with the Facts
I have these preconceived
ideas
of the world
and how it works
But now and again
I come up against some
boulder, some road block that
I cannot get around
Like a bone
pulled from pudding
something that’s just not right
that doesn’t belong
Then I must choose
if I will alter my thoughts
or the world
This decision is
often harder
than you would think
Friday 55 – Early Morning
It’s a quarter to five,
still dark outside
and I can’t sleep.
There’s a perfect half moon
and a sky full of stars.
An owl hoots.
I can’t tell if the moon
is waxing or waning.
Waiting for the coffee to brew
I can’t tell if I
am waxing or waning.
Just another long day.
In Other Words 