A ordinary day, p.1
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A Ordinary Day


  An Ordinary Day

  Told in twenty poems

  Katyjean Leslie

  copyright 2017 Katyjean Leslie

  Contents

  Sun Rise

  Morning

  All Because

  The Rules

  The Exchange (rhyming)

  The Actor (rhyming)

  Walking with Elvis (rhyming)

  They

  Tattoo

  Hollow Gourds

  Glass

  Softly

  Dinner (rhyming)

  Knee Deep in Love

  The Walking Dead

  When I Go (rhyming)

  Night

  The Woman

  Insomnia

  Ode to Attila (rhyming)

  Sun Rise

  Under a hazy cover among the lush green

  The sun peers lazily over the early hour

  And the tops of the trees

  To smile his warmth across the sleepy morning

  And blow a familiar kiss through my open window

  Like so many mornings before

  Nudging me gently with his long golden finger

  To present me with an unspoiled unwritten day.

  Morning

  Morning sun awakens-

  Colorful ribbons stretch

  languorously across the sky-

  Cries to me, “Rise!”

  It is a brand-new day-

  half asleep and laden with dew,

  pregnant with all the hope

  and apprehension that the

  unknown, unproved can hold.

  I do rise-

  and through eyes open, expectant,

  contemplating the lushness that life can bring,

  I pay homage to the sun-

  its arms encompass all

  growing wider and wider-

  colors fade into each other

  become white and far reaching,

  draws shadows on the ground.

  Beyond-

  lies the highway, hard and gray

  neither guilty nor innocent,

  It just is-

  it can take you

  or lose you

  but you will go

  along with all the other vehicles

  their headlights now going off.

  The sun illuminates the way

  as they embark on their various

  routines and destinations.

  I breathe deep

  becoming the moment,

  absorbing the lightness,

  unreachable and brilliant.

  All Because

  There I was,

  Blithely going through my days,

  Never strayed off the path,

  Always kept my eyes on the clock

  And my hands upon the wheel

  Until that inexplicable moment

  When the world exploded into

  A vibrant cosmos of color,

  The air became heavy

  And my heart pound in my ears

  Like a thousand horse’s hooves--

  I could not breathe,

  My stomach clinched

  And my knees felt as if they would buckle

  Under the sudden extreme weight of my body--

  All because you said, "Hello".

  The Rules

  We all play the same game

  We play by the same rules

  Some of us do well, some do not

  But we play by the same rules

  Some of us try very hard indeed

  Some find it better to cheat

  Since we all play by the same rules.

  But what if the rules were changed

  Only none of us citizens knew?

  What if the ‘powers that be’ lied to us

  Only none of us citizens knew?

  What if there were secret handshakes

  That caused alliances to shift and change;

  If the ‘powers that be’ bought the world

  But none of us citizens knew?

  If we suddenly woke one morning

  To find we could no longer come and go

  As we choose

  What would we do?

  If everyone carried an unlicensed gun

  Around on their pocket

  Because ‘terrorist’ are everywhere

  What would we do?

  Or if we had to live under one religion

  And sign a book if we worshipped differently

  What would we do?

  And if the ‘powers that be’ decided to

  ‘Rehouse’ the broken, the impoverished, the impaired and the elderly

  So as not to be a drain on the system

  Would we allow it?

  We knew how to play the game

  Because we knew the rules.

  But the ‘powers that be’,

  The powers that ‘we’ elected,

  Are changing the rules

  Only they are not telling us

  What those rules are.

  We need to make it our business to know.

  Now is the time for accountability.

  Now is the time for action.

  Now before we ask the question,

  “What could we have done?”

  The Exchange

  The building seems tall

  in the eyes of the child

  but the whole world is huge

  when you’re so very small.

  All brick red with concrete

  for casements and sills.

  The building is four stories high

  with windows that repeat.

  The child held tight

  to the hand of her mother.

  A bright colored balloon

  bounced along on her right.

  Between the buildings were

  sidewalks and patches of grass.

  The child looked up at the windows

  to see a little girl looking at her.

  Her mother had stopped

  to speak to a passerby.

  She had no choice but to wait

  when something suddenly dropped.

  There just a foot away,

  wearing a bright blue bow with

  the grass cushioning its head,

  a fluffy brown teddy bear lay.

  A huge smile came across

  the face of the child below.

  She gazed at the window

  from where it was tossed.

  The face in the window waved

  at her secret friend below

  who released the colorful balloon for

  The teddy bear she could have.

  The colorful balloon glided high

  up toward the window child,

  it’s colors shining in the sun.

  Causing such a joyful cry.

  In through the opened window

  with speeds both swift and quick

  the balloon was gleefully received

  from the child on the ground below.

  The teddy bear now retrieved

  held tight in childish arms.

  A secret pact of friendship;

  A childhood language conceived.

  As the mother started to go;

  her little charge still in hand.

  One last glance to the child above.

  To exchange silent smiles below.

  The Actor

  Under the glaring spotlights

  On top of the wooden stage

  In front of the velvet curtain

  The actor becomes the sage.

  He wears all the costumes

  He plays all the parts

  He invokes all his lines

  He knows them all by heart.

  Now he has come to the end

  He has played his last show

  He has taken his final bow

  Only thing left is to go.

  One last curtain call

  One last look around

  One last deep breath

  Then silence comes down.

  He exits stage left

  Through the side door

  Onto the street

  Where the actor,

  Once revered,

  Is just one more in a million feet.

  Walking with Elvis

  We walked a mile!

  Or was it two?

  I’d like to say it was because

  We had nothing better to do.

  But really it was the doctor

  Who said we should walk each day.

  The exercise, you see,

  Should help take the pain away.

  So, I put on my walking shoes

  And Elvis adorned his lead.

  Ok. He had my hands to use

  But his big brown eyes said, “Please”.

  So off we went down the street

  Past Mrs. Wilson’s bungalow.

  We quite enjoyed the folks we met.

  Though it must be said you were slow!

  All that stopping to smell everything

  Just so you could pee on it!

  And I wouldn’t have said a thing

  Until you got the leg of Mrs. DeWitt.

  I tell you, I’ve never seen

  Anyone go into such a rant!

  That woman was downright mean!

  After all she was wearing pants.

  Mrs. Johnson’s roses were divine.

  They smell just as lovely and sweet.

  Your watering them I’m sure she didn’t mind.

  I’m just grateful that you missed my feet.

  I thought poor old Mr. Agee

  Didn’t look quite himself

  Might be sick. Don’t you agree?

  Plus, he had a peculiar smell.

  He did have a pocket of treats.

  He’s still thoughtful and kind.

  I guess if he’s giving you something to eat,

  An odd smell you’re not going to mind.

  Say, when did the filling station close?

  You know, the one on the corner.

  Look, I know I may be getting old

  But I thought the place got a new owner.

  Don’t give me that look, little dog!

  I have not yet become senile.

  Besides, who tripped over that log?

  You could have seen that from a mile!

  I noticed you were quicker coming back.

  Was it the thought of your bag of treats?

  Oh no. That’s right. It was Mrs. Ferrelli’s cat

  That had you pulling at your lead!

  However, pooping in her yard was not good.

  You see, I forgot to bring the bag

  So, I couldn’t retrieve it like I should

  And she can be quite a nag.

  Oh well, home again my little friend

  Off with your lead and my shoes.

  A pat on your head, a scratch of your chin.

  Time for a snack and a snooze.

  I know we walked a mile today.

  Or maybe it was two.

  Not even close, I dare say

  But I always like walking with you.

  (for Elvis, my terrier, my buddy)

  They

  They met.

  They laughed.

  They loved.

  They married.

  Time passed.

  He cheated.

  She cried.

  He raged.

  She hurt.

  He hit.

  She bled.

  He left.

  She died.

  It ended.

  An experiment in writing. Two word sentences without descriptions that tell a story.

  Tattoo

  Like some strange voodoo,

  You crept into my brain

  Through my blood

  And lodged yourself in my life.

  I wear you like a tattoo no one can see-

  You’ve become a part of me-

  In my waking and my sleeping-

  Yet you are not there.

  It’s a weird magic that fills my lungs-

  When I breathe deep

  I can almost feel you, taste you-

  The air becomes electric.

  My eyes open wide

  And my head is filled

  With the sound of your voice;

  At once lyrical and alive.

  My soul gives birth to a new song

  As the day gives birth to a new world.

  I have been made strong.

  (for Wombat)

  Hollow Gourds

  Hollow gourds hang

  emotionless, empty

  with holes cut through

  to expose

  their dark vacancy.

  They adorn barren trees

  devoid of life and

  shiver in the frigid night air;

  their song echoes through my mind.

  I close my eyes and hear your voice.

  As it moves through my seasons

  it pronounces each one

  with clarity and grace.

  I feel your touch,

  your caress,

  your breath on my skin.

  It molds me,

  owns me,

  dances rhythmically

  through my brain

  until I open my eyes

  and you cease to be.

  I die a little more

  each day

  until I just can't bear it!

  The sharp edge of night

  draws ever near.

  It pierces into my eyes,

  shines its cold hard glare,

  blinds me from what was

  and what could be

  until all I can see is the now-

  the greedy, hungry now!

  O night! Devour me!

  Tear the sun from the sky

  and throw the stars into the sea!

  Bury me where you buried my love!

  Leave me nothing but dry bones;

  barren earth and clay

  and the sorrow of hollow gourds

  that hang from a dead tree.

  Glass

  Why?

  You were here.

  I was happy.

  We were 'us'.

  The days were warm

  Even in the winter

  Because you were here.

  The sun was bright, shining

  Even through the rain

  Because you were here.

  There was sweet, wonderful music

  In the dead of night

  The world made sense

  Even while it was falling apart

  Because you were here.

  No one ever told me

  That blue could turn black;

  That summer could be cold;

  That silence could be the loudest sound on earth.

  No one ever told me

  That the night was an ocean

  And the world was made of glass

  Until it shattered.

  Angels and devils fought,

  Prisms of color danced behind exploding lies,

  Fire froze.

  And when the ocean stopped swallowing

  You were gone.

  You were here.

  There was an 'us'.

  I was happy.

  Softly

  Softly

  The day unfolds

  On gossamer wings

  That gradually flutter

  Through the hours

  Unnoticed

  To land on my doorstep

  With the evening paper.

  Dinner

  The old man sat in his recliner

  And yelled about the Democrats on t.v.

  His equally old wife made dinner;

  Tried to see in him what she use to see.

  His politics were red; his language blue

  His skin was pasty white and stretched.

  Made to do things it shouldn’t do;

  His recliner was permanently etched.

  In his current, agitated state

  He clumsily dropped his cigar.

  In the kitchen came the sound of plates

  Laid on the table with the pickled eggs jar.

  The call to dinner was like a battle cry

  That required him to stand and adjust.

  “Hands?” she asked. “I did” he lied

  As he retrieved his bottle of hot sauce.

  Seats were taken and food generously plated

  As always, she insisted that ‘grace’ was said.

  Ten minutes later his appetite satiated,

  Back to his pungent recliner he fled.

  There she sat, alone, pensive, philosophic

  In the quiet acceptance that was her life.

  She had buried herself a long time back.

  She was empty; an automated wife.

  A demand for beer reached its way

  Through the kitchen wall to her ears.

  “Yes, dear” she would calmly say

  Unhindered by her dried-up tears.

  The beer delivered, she cleared the table

  Her own plate left unfinished, cold.

  Unaided, she did what she was able.

  Fifty years married, she just felt old.

  In his musty recliner, he sat

  Swearing in his drunken way

  “To hell with them damn Democrats!”

  Was the very last thing he’d say.

  In his fervor, he failed to swallow

  He inhaled his beer instead.

  His desperate pleas fell hollow.

  Since his tired wife had gone to bed.

  Knee Deep in Love

  Knee deep in love

  we'll run through lazy summer afternoons,

  worship at the feet of the sun

  and embarrass the hummingbirds.

  Knee deep in love

  we'll celebrate the fireflies

  in the late August evening

  dressed in our finest moonlight.

  Knee deep in love

  we'll drink wine from paper cups

  and I'll trace the trail it makes

  down your chin with my tongue.

  Knee deep in love

  we'll croon out our song

  and dance to each other’s heartbeat

  until the stars cease to shine.

  The Walking Dead

  As evening grew long a chill settled in for the night.

  My dogs and I ventured out for one last walk.

  Dusk wrapped its velvet arms around us.

  I breathed deep inhaling the spicy pines

  and decayed leaves underfoot.

  A hungry wind devoured what leaves were left

  to cling helplessly to the trees.

  I could hear voices echo down the years

  and whistle softly through naked branches.

  They spoke of lives spent

  from the ravages of time;

  from loss, fear, self-doubt and loathing.

  When death claims life it is final;

  the pain is gone, the story done.

  But for the living

 
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