A quick shift of the mind can put you in a better place, while a quick shift of the body, after a certain age, could put you in traction. So, I wish you a positive mental shift, and a gradual, physical one, my friends.
This is for dVerse Poets’ Pub where Mish asked us to write a quadrille (44 words) and include some form of the word “shift”.
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.
Endings break my heart
sometimes.
But sometimes
they can’t come
fast enough.
Nothing new can start
until there has been
an ending.
This is not profound
or deep
it’s so simple
we forget
sometimes
To live
to love
to grow –
we need endings
before we can do any
of these
And without these
we are nothing
This is my first, last time
trying to undo
all the mistakes of a lifetime
trying to do
all the things left undone
This is the swan song
of the ugly duckling
the sky falling
on the little red hen
when the birds of a feather
flock together against
the outsider
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.
In Other Words 