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Who is the me that writes? (A Noir-ish Poem for Day 9)

The rain is falling oh so fast
and it feels like time is slipping past
‘cuz my reflection in the looking glass
keeps changing

who is the me that writes these words?
a mother, daughter, wife
& are you friend or foe?
i never know
who to trust on the roads of life

beware the ides of march, they say
but what of april late?
who knows what chaos will ensue
when we’re driven to create

 

 

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Itty Bitty was a cat
the likes you’ve never seen
her tubby body was so fat
she’d never be a beauty queen
one day I saw her catch a rat
and play with it, that fiend —
her temperament had seemed so sweet
but if she could, it’s me she’d eat

 

Author’s Note: This is my attempt at today’s NaPoWriMo prompt for an ottava rima poem. My apologies to Itty Bitty, who was generally a very nice cat, and lived a long life for a kitty.

Baby, I love

your big blue
eyes and long dark lashes
i love your gap-toothed smile
and sweet milk-scented breath
your R2D2 babbles and lion roars
i love your cuddles and giggles
and how you love me, mommy
completely, won’t ever reject me
not yet

Pelvis

by Ursula Crawford

You shook your pelvis
and they worshipped you.
Well, my seven-year-old hips
couldn’t speak that jive
but my lips
sang you ain’t
nuthin but a hound dog
over and over
to the picture of you,
pre-
white jumpsuit and
Las Vegas and
specially made fried PBJ sandwiches,
which hung on my wall.
you were sexy then, at
least to a first grader
looking back through time.
You were sexy
and they worshipped you
and then you were unsexy
and they worshipped you
and then you died
alone
on the toilet
our king.

Author’s Note: Okay, this is sort of cheating because I wrote this poem years ago. But I like it, and it is a busy Mama Bear day, thus far including grocery shopping, 3 poopy diaper changes, discouraging Baby Bear from eating a thumbtack & encouraging her to eat vegetables, my husband working all day on a Saturday after working all week, and as always — sleep deprivation.

 

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Surprised by Joy

at 3-months-old
you laughed, surprising me
with a full-throated giggle
when i unlocked the mailbox
and extracted a letter
so marvelous, you seemed to think
this little door
that opens to reveal
the day’s correspondence
so extraordinary, the ordinary
to a child, seeing it all
for the first time

Skills not mentioned on my LinkedIn profile:

Able to change a diaper while my daughter tries to crawl off changing table
expert at singing baby to sleep
can roar like a lion and quack like a duck
knowledge of 80+ ASL signs including milk, more, want
can type while breastfeeding
can survive months of sleep deprivation without hallucinating
possesses strength to carry baby and groceries and diaper bag up stairs
still remembers the quadratic formula, though not how to use it
able to give everything for love