Submissions by Alviola
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
The things that make me feel rich
Hot lomi, a thick noodle broth
no one can eat with their eyes open.
Or a tin of vienna sausage, devoured
in the middle of the night, a solitary delight
Yanking out a paper napkin from its box,
This is rich, this is almost profligate.
I wipe my mouth with that thought,
with a smile the world cannot see.
The weight of a heavy cotton robe,
post-bath, even if torn at the seams
Then there is a thick blanket,
especially when colder than comfortable,
Vast so I need not bend my legs
I pull it up to my...
no one can eat with their eyes open.
Or a tin of vienna sausage, devoured
in the middle of the night, a solitary delight
Yanking out a paper napkin from its box,
This is rich, this is almost profligate.
I wipe my mouth with that thought,
with a smile the world cannot see.
The weight of a heavy cotton robe,
post-bath, even if torn at the seams
Then there is a thick blanket,
especially when colder than comfortable,
Vast so I need not bend my legs
I pull it up to my...
#happiness
61 reads
8 Comments
The Punctuality of Sparrows
The birds are patient, watching
the minute hand, that measure
of time our young no longer
understand, one tiny throat
starts at the stroke of five,
and cacophony commences,
They flit about in the leaves
of the Mango tree a foot
or so outside my window,
if I beg them to change when
they squeal and rattle about,
I can put that titter to use,
Red Maya, be my alarm clock.
the minute hand, that measure
of time our young no longer
understand, one tiny throat
starts at the stroke of five,
and cacophony commences,
They flit about in the leaves
of the Mango tree a foot
or so outside my window,
if I beg them to change when
they squeal and rattle about,
I can put that titter to use,
Red Maya, be my alarm clock.
#dawn
#hope
88 reads
8 Comments
Savior Dog
She cocks her head and stares,
offers a paw in the air,
The paw is a word, the stare
a question, when the liquor
is drunk unchilled, they will stare
In the coldness of covid,
the paws comforted, rescued
our souls, the whip of the tail
delighted, their noses keen
to the smell of woes and worries
she flops down beside me, her
bottom up, and demands the rub,
near and nudging, she stares when
I stop, we healed when we stroked
petted bathed nuzzled fed
...
offers a paw in the air,
The paw is a word, the stare
a question, when the liquor
is drunk unchilled, they will stare
In the coldness of covid,
the paws comforted, rescued
our souls, the whip of the tail
delighted, their noses keen
to the smell of woes and worries
she flops down beside me, her
bottom up, and demands the rub,
near and nudging, she stares when
I stop, we healed when we stroked
petted bathed nuzzled fed
...
#sadness
#love
#animals
#healing
#pandemic
105 reads
9 Comments
It's the Seconds that Matter Now
The bed is quicksand, the blanket warm
and leaden around my legs, so I
slither out of the room and its clutches,
punch the button that wakes the coffee maker,
that starts the rumbling and the chortling
which is the time to reach for a mug
from the dish rack, lay it on the cup plate
of the machine about to belch brown mud
I fill a glass with water and a splash
of apple cider vinegar, stir
then walk over to my meds, to pop ...
and leaden around my legs, so I
slither out of the room and its clutches,
punch the button that wakes the coffee maker,
that starts the rumbling and the chortling
which is the time to reach for a mug
from the dish rack, lay it on the cup plate
of the machine about to belch brown mud
I fill a glass with water and a splash
of apple cider vinegar, stir
then walk over to my meds, to pop ...
#aging
#job
97 reads
7 Comments
The Bliss of Old Socks
I toss brand new socks back and rifle
through drawers for solace and kindness
The old ones surrender and smile at me
the garters have given up they are
indolent around the ankles while
flesh peeps through threadbare cloth at the heels
Neckties hang in the order they were
hung long ago, ay, that was another lifetime
the days when socks rode high and denting skin
I do not put on socks but comfort,
do I mind if people see my bare legs?
I will cross them, pop one ankle on a knee ...
through drawers for solace and kindness
The old ones surrender and smile at me
the garters have given up they are
indolent around the ankles while
flesh peeps through threadbare cloth at the heels
Neckties hang in the order they were
hung long ago, ay, that was another lifetime
the days when socks rode high and denting skin
I do not put on socks but comfort,
do I mind if people see my bare legs?
I will cross them, pop one ankle on a knee ...
#happiness
#LifeCycle
#aging
#freedom
#wisdom
149 reads
7 Comments
Fathers and Sons of Gaza
He does not look at the child in his arms
he looks only ahead, his feet fly
at the spur of worry, does a child
weigh less when it loses playfulness?
he does not look at the child in his arms
The stagger of his run make the limbs
of the child sway, giving a semblance
of breathing, his arms tighten to keep
the pieces from falling, he searches
for succor in the eyes of other men
he meets only quiet hopelessness
sitting on rubble of erstwhile homes.
he looks only ahead, his feet fly
at the spur of worry, does a child
weigh less when it loses playfulness?
he does not look at the child in his arms
The stagger of his run make the limbs
of the child sway, giving a semblance
of breathing, his arms tighten to keep
the pieces from falling, he searches
for succor in the eyes of other men
he meets only quiet hopelessness
sitting on rubble of erstwhile homes.
#sadness
#children
#parent
#war
#death
203 reads
2 Comments
That we be like dogs
She leaps into the car, her tail
electrified, the window rolled
down so she can poke her head out
savor the town's fragrances
a cornucopia of scents, a rush
she cannot know roaming nearby.
What if parents told children to
poke their heads out of car windows
have their feet find asphalt
nearer homes of the unshod, to prowl
past broken doors, to know the clatter
of empty feeding bowls, to hear
not just the screech of classroom chairs
on vinyl floors and the howl of audiences
in ball games...
electrified, the window rolled
down so she can poke her head out
savor the town's fragrances
a cornucopia of scents, a rush
she cannot know roaming nearby.
What if parents told children to
poke their heads out of car windows
have their feet find asphalt
nearer homes of the unshod, to prowl
past broken doors, to know the clatter
of empty feeding bowls, to hear
not just the screech of classroom chairs
on vinyl floors and the howl of audiences
in ball games...
#school
#inequality
#poverty #apathy
#poverty #apathy
143 reads
12 Comments
You think what you don't see won't hurt you
She is twitchy, her skin trembling,
she leans back with head raised, eyes wide,
nostrils flared, shifting her weight from
one leg to the other, she paws the ground
Horses are a nervous lot, what she
does not understand, she sees
as dangerous, so blinders are worn
so she can only see what is ahead:
Children grimy, wordless with empty
bowls and eyes that scream, she sees
the corrupt man cross the road, but
these, that man, she has seen before
But...
she leans back with head raised, eyes wide,
nostrils flared, shifting her weight from
one leg to the other, she paws the ground
Horses are a nervous lot, what she
does not understand, she sees
as dangerous, so blinders are worn
so she can only see what is ahead:
Children grimy, wordless with empty
bowls and eyes that scream, she sees
the corrupt man cross the road, but
these, that man, she has seen before
But...
#corruption
#HumanRights
#inequality #poverty
#inequality #poverty
112 reads
4 Comments
Molave's Secret
Molave flows into hammers then hands
and shoulders of bridges and railroad ties,
a hardwood chosen for forever.
Light gold in interlocking stripes swarming
the expanse of beds and dining tables,
around torsos of heavy furniture
but it shivers when the day changes,
complains with loud reports --barks!
plate tectonics in timber stirring me
in the dark, insinuating into dreams,
in sleep already distressed, like gunshots
in the night but inside the bedroom.
...
and shoulders of bridges and railroad ties,
a hardwood chosen for forever.
Light gold in interlocking stripes swarming
the expanse of beds and dining tables,
around torsos of heavy furniture
but it shivers when the day changes,
complains with loud reports --barks!
plate tectonics in timber stirring me
in the dark, insinuating into dreams,
in sleep already distressed, like gunshots
in the night but inside the bedroom.
...
#disappointment
#heroic
#fear #vulnerability
#fear #vulnerability
141 reads
10 Comments
Soldier Boys in the Flea Market
In the unairconditioned fuss
of a flea market
two American soldier boys
haggled with a young Filipina selling
knives and tools and flashlights
they moved on, to scout for cheaper
presumably,
and passing me
one sniggered to the other
"Did you hear what she said?
-- 'buy one, take me!'"
I swear the day groaned, I chucked
what I wanted to buy back
into the pile of knives and tools
flashlights and bedraggled virtues
of a flea market
two American soldier boys
haggled with a young Filipina selling
knives and tools and flashlights
they moved on, to scout for cheaper
presumably,
and passing me
one sniggered to the other
"Did you hear what she said?
-- 'buy one, take me!'"
I swear the day groaned, I chucked
what I wanted to buy back
into the pile of knives and tools
flashlights and bedraggled virtues
#sadness
#anger
114 reads
1 Comment
Another Door
She did not come by way of heart
She came through skull
And stayed a night
There she hung her songs, pitched tent
Then argued, asked and wildly axxed.
She did not come by way of wink
By courtly summoning of lash
She came through skull
And stayed to parley
She did not come by way of heart
But packed her tongue, moved in to stay.
She came through skull
And stayed a night
There she hung her songs, pitched tent
Then argued, asked and wildly axxed.
She did not come by way of wink
By courtly summoning of lash
She came through skull
And stayed to parley
She did not come by way of heart
But packed her tongue, moved in to stay.
#admiration
204 reads
8 Comments
The Strangers They Become
Children disappear into the grownups
they become, into adult chassis,
behind facial hair, they vanish
into ghost chasers, into bearers of lore
and wisdom and agents of art
we did not see written on the wall.
The formerly frolicsome, children
who ran about in pointless patterns,
they disappear into frowns and causes
The trinkets and trophies sleep in drawers
no longer drawn, fingers now beringed
by graduations or chapel rites.
The clingy and the ones you could leave
alone...
they become, into adult chassis,
behind facial hair, they vanish
into ghost chasers, into bearers of lore
and wisdom and agents of art
we did not see written on the wall.
The formerly frolicsome, children
who ran about in pointless patterns,
they disappear into frowns and causes
The trinkets and trophies sleep in drawers
no longer drawn, fingers now beringed
by graduations or chapel rites.
The clingy and the ones you could leave
alone...
#parent
#teens
#childhood
#LifeCycle
#aging
209 reads
6 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Alviola