blink

eyes closed or open

regardless, there is no choice

i am confronted by images

i may choose to observe

and i may choose to shut one out

with the opening and closing

of these eyes

exchange one vision with the other

(though i will continue to refuse 

to designate one or the other as real)

involuntary blinks go by unnoticed

but a soft closing of the eyes

(maybe only one and a half seconds!)

to visit another world 

as the outside one goes on 

without noticing me.

-irma 29may2020

hope

two poems from me today... on one topic...

For a long time,

  hope  was a four-letter word

not uttered in company

  polite or otherwise

...worry was easier

...desperation brought calm

until i realized hope was hidden

  behind the worry

  behind the storm 

afraid of me, 

  of being crushed 

beneath my unfeeling nihilism.

i made room in my chest

  (or maybe deep in my stomach, 

   where a hollow pit yearned to be filled)

let worry stand to one side and watch

as i allowed myself an attempt …. at hope

  hope took my energy

  hope took my effort

  hope took my endurance

and in exchange:

  hope gave way to peace.

-----

HOPE

the mist made the 

   sunrise more colorful

covered your skin in

  golden shades of orange

the wind made the 

  sun’s burn more tolerable

cooled your skin with 

  its impersonal touch

when

WHEN

you tell me a story
like a morning glory
(a beautiful flower
with evil power)
the power to kill
make plants grow still
i listen breathless
characters deathless
time has halted
as you recount...
then stumble
a cough
a tumble
i breathe again
and life goes on
as before you started
and yet
there are marks on my hands
from my own fingernails
and my own bite-marks on my lips

loving the bother

the poking 

the prodding 

the whining

the children 

their skin smooth and freckled 

their teeth white and crooked

their hands curious and clumsy

demand attention

those with experience attempt to soothe

demand attention

you'll miss it one day

one day you'll wish them small again

poking you

Yet we live on

gathering wrinkles

and experience

waiting for a day without poking

without prodding

without whining

love without bother

and know from experience

that those with knowledge are right

we wish we could grow older

without learning to love being bothered

yet we will learn

in the next stage of life

with a voice full of longing

we will say to those younger

you'll miss it one day

one day you'll wish them small again

poking you

-irma 14may2020