October 18, 2019

Seriously? Write now?

I must be busy.
I must be stressed.
I must feel overwhelmed
and not know where to start.

I must not have time
to do all the things I feel
like I should have time to do
if I could just focus.

I must not have time
to write poems, or journal
about insignificant ramblings
running ramped through my mind.

I definitely don’t have time
for such nonsense now.
I am so busy
accomplishing nothing
that I can’t admit
I must write.

~ smj

Le Tigre – “Keep on Livin'”

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May 18, 2019

firefly nights

IMG_0829fireflies escaping
like sparks flying off the fire
joining stars and you

                       – smj, 5/18/2019

—————

Just a little haiku I wrote for my cousin.  I was thinking of childhood memories of parties at their old house… and, of chasing fireflies.  We would run through the fields at their house in the night… trying not to trip over the dark while following the sporadic flashes.  If we were lucky, we’d manage to catch a few fireflies, and when we did, we would put them in a mason jar with some holes in the lid.  We thought we could use them as a lantern.

We would keep them for a bit, but I never wanted to keep them long.  I was afraid they would die (thanks Dad).  So I’d let them go… sometimes unbeknownst to my cousins while they were busy desperately trying to catch more.  Besides, the flies just were not nearly as beautiful or impressive up-close.  They just looked like…. well… flies (with big glowy butts).   But, with a little added distance?  Oh my. They became magical… mystical…  lighting up in the dark sky if only for a second… here… then there…. then, wait… where?

I still see them in my backyard sometimes.  I don’t try to catch them anymore. My boys are also too old now for that.  I don’t think they were ever as impressed by them as I was anyway.  Am.  I still am.  I still like to watch them flicker on and off, until they are too far away to see and I lose track of them.  They remind me of  the sparks flying off a bonfire… billowing with the smoke up to the stars.  I like to try to follow those as well… watch as they rise up to the heavens…  until they fade into grey ashes that join us once again.  Or until they just mysteriously disappear all together.  Possibly morphing into yet another distant star against the black sky.  Who’s to say?

 

October 3, 2018

#metoo

sleeping secrets stir
wake to rooster’s crow for light
answering #metoo

~ smj

 

 Alive, Sia

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October 3, 2018

Read Between the Signs

I keep seeing signs of you,
or from you.  I’m not sure which.
Or what you may be
trying to tell me.  Or if
it’s even you.  Is it?

Seems like a bit much
to be coincidental. Feels too persistent
to ignore. Too constant
to forget.  In the background, but
always there. Much like you
were in real life.

I miss the days when we talked
so much that we didn’t need to
anymore.  We only had to think it
not say it, but we knew we’d
always say it anyway.

I still see your eyes smiling
as you listened and talked and listened.
“I can read you like a book!”, you’d brag.
And, you could.  As I could you.
Usually.  We kept a few secrets.

Now, my inherited skepticism
is louder than all the forty-twos in the world.
I’d love to believe… but, it’s not like me
to not know you.  I’m not good
at reading in-between these signs.

~ smj

 

 

Stars,  Grace Potter And The Nocturnals

October 2, 2018

Thought Wrong

I thought I was moving on
from my past, from my problems,
from the person I no longer wanted
to be.

I thought I was moving up,
like the Jefferson’s – to the top,
to a deluxe, newly evolved version
of me.

I thought I had moved past
the worst of it.  That I had paid
my dues and was ready to finally
be free.

“Don’t think”, she said.
“You’re not good at it”, she said. Continue reading