Karen Hallenbeck-Sikorsky-George BSRN
Sunday June 3rd, 2007
Citronella candle chase the insects from my skin, flies; summer squalor
Heat bending me, tin foil crisp, this body dies; falls, the treetops pollution
Sends me over the edge (of a cliff) in a sweet hometown place, where
Grandma is crippled with arthritis; smiling over a blueberry muffin
Aspirin is enough for there is never enough, today two robins swim
Flutter wings, the rain pours, the thunder sounds, a million drops
Wrong way sign no stop, no go, try to walk to
A place dry, warm (not cold), remember down
Comforter, New England snow, rubber galoshes
Warm red mittens bright, take me now, me, yes...
Flies cluster, multiply, mate and feed on waste, don't land (they do)
Itching skin, the air so thick (cannot breathe), and the light does not
Clear my blurry vision, there is NO paper doll place to play, no supper
Dish to encourage me to eat, food sits, remains, rots, inside my gut
Outside to gather air, particles of country feed, this pasture is toxic
Misfit moron can't you see (are you talking to self), star night so bright
I pray for you, see us touching, one finger laced into
Mine, the electric magnet of skin, the eternal embrace
Did not know love (did you), and your heroin mistress waits
In hiding, pray for you again tonight, are you okay?
Driving across the country (due east or south), west is where it is home
The heartland of my revelation, God drove me here without conscious
Thought, HE plowed down disease, created tolerance, erected a
Mansion built on desert dirt (not sand), and the infinite clouds, endless
Sky, no beginning or end horizon, filled me with saddest tears, missing
My children, fruit of my womb, guilt partied heavily, won, robbed me, you...
Little child tapping restlessly, grocery store line is
That your mother, so unlike you immersed in food
While you (like I) read magazines far beyond your
Years, your face a pout, like fine china, blue eyes
Memory, is a barren wind, today it comes to evacuate the prisoner within
She has served time behind the wall, drenched in sweat, deep PAIN
Headache vision, no place to go; she paces in circles never to find
Sleep, there is no surge of happiness, no serene smile, no gentle place
Until now, touch your hand from afar, will 'we meet one more time'
Marry in the round surface of a stone plain, no desert, just us two
This child is empty, beautifully formed, but dead to the
Wonder of sunrise, purple mountains in the Berkshires
Easter egg dumpling fall leaves scattered, as the first
Snow enters like a rapist in the morning night, filling her
With first blizzard, she sits on a wooden bench, bundled so tight you'd
Think "can she walk or move" and she falls to her knees in prayer
So slight a form, growing year by year, the hands form artistic flower
Petals with plain pencil on off white paper, smudging emotions on a
Lineless face, is she to see the truth, now twenty, maybe forty years old
The tunnel is wide enough for her to walk, cane poised, now eighty to die
I will travel by train today, the jet burns my ears, pops my
Clarity, there is a simple gray haired man smiling, wearing
Cherry red bow tie, his eyes alight, sparkle (he is mine)
My legs long in conservative high heels, no lace, so hot
The song playing is indiscernible, a small merry go round slowly turns
He bows (gentleman), and lifts me up on my blue silken horse like a
Knight, and the breeze tickles my cheeks, moistened by stray tears
We are together, around we go, stirring all the good and the bad leaves
As if purged, and never did it hurt like this (faith), and we are truly one
"I do" and will, his lips melt into mine, and morning doves opera awaits
Where do I go from here, are you wondering if we can be
Did you find the heart beating alone in Texas, I left it for you
Beside a tumbleweed traveling from Lubbock in a dirt storm
Come to me (I dare you), make me see the love (I care)...
That pelican escaped the bayou
That storm drain is dry, rusty, no water flows
That preacher fornicated the harlot and did not come
That mountain is just a hill, will flatten by dawn
That pebble came from an ocean in Africa
That life is to be lived, just with you...
(2)
Chatter BeeKaren Hallenbeck-Sikorsky-George BSRN
Sunday June 3rd, 2007
Tall pine tree, scent strong, please lift me high enough to see
I am blind, this trip in circles became punishment, one day
In deep sleep, the day began and I could not see (you)
God knows this little girl, is unable to do one action without
Two eyes focused on the truth, turnip patch in cold fall
Burrowed deep, boil them, make them like mashed potatoes
Left so many times on highways from here to
Louisiana, back to Texas, the one trip back to
Virginia emptied my heart, sent me spinning and
Sick back to you (say you love me), to go west
If I just cry, so many do, the tears will dry, nothing will better
Pancakes are hard to make, but sweet to the taste, my tongue
Attuned to finer wants, my hands clenched, to fight you the
Prizefighter, who won, and at the end the bell rung and school
Was over (for the day), and the FEAR grew, errant weeds
Cluttered my restless mind, my legs carried me, where did I go?
To be of you, to despise you, to be of me
Subtle choices, women make them daily
Marriage lasts for years, for some a lifetime
Disparity, thankless coupling, just go away
Leave me alone, I hate you, go far from me, do not scream at
My spirit, destroy my self-respect; dishonor my loving heart not
Today or tomorrow, yesterday was black, sewer scented, ugly
Monster life please die, this hospital bed hurts my back and the
Needle in my arm is foreign, remove me from you (dear God)
Let me ice skate on that winter day when New Jersey dropped
Ten below zero and school was called out
No one in their right mind would go by the river
But there I slipped on black leather boy skates
Bundled so tight to breathe hurt, I was a lone star...
I should know by now where to go, how to dry my muddy feet
Wash a load of clothes, buy groceries, cook a simple meal
Alone...Reproduce the good moments in this too long life
Stare out in the velvet night sky from the warehouse windows
Pleasure filled, happy, content enough to repeat this act
Called life, another day; then a week until I am a routine
Walk that dog and balance your checkbook
Pay the bills, visit the soup kitchen, smile and
Give kind words from true thoughts like gifts
Wrapped in silver bows on Christmas Day, give
All of you even when you become empty
Your thirst will lead you to cold water and you
Will know God repays HIS goodness reflected in
Your life beyond your need, do not fear single
Purpose, it is eternal life, to begin on earth, first...
(3)
Ugly Trellis
Karen Hallenbeck-Sikorsky-George BSRN
Sunday June 3rd, 2007
The grapes are rotted dry, on that old white trellis, untended
Purple wine will have to wait, the land once fertile, wet, is
Scoured with drought, the farmers are gone, died, they are
Buried in the church cemetery beyond that stone gate and
Ill tended no one replaced the old preacher, when the
Congregation built a coveted place, inside the town, here
Children grew up for at least one hundred years
Held several mothers, watched their parents work
Grow, be, and then die; go to heaven in honesty
Obey the commandments, do not stray far
The old well went dry, spring fed it just stopped giving water
The house sold for half it's worth, and the last family
Childless moved a thousand miles to a big city, not guilty
As they ended a century of tradition, the grape vines withered
Fall rains renewed the well (it was not dry), and a new
Couple came in painting walls, cutting the apple trees down
Next summer some grapes fought on green leafy vine
To grow, but the family went west for the summer and
When fall entered cold, fighting for winter snow the
Grapes shrunk, died, and no one noticed, not one...
Civilization changed the town, and the history book closed
That horse and buggy ideology ended, polluted sports cars
Forced paved roads, and the property values soared like
Fast paced jet planes, plowing down the way God made it
Children became latch key, Mommy and Daddy worked
The family died, the simple way of night and day ended
Remind me ofreminded me when it was due back
The gray haired librarian who helped
Me pick a book, she lived alone, but smiled when children like I
Filled her day, you must be quiet when you read here
I saw a hummingbird it was so fast
Plain brown in coloration that when it left
I forgot it came
Be not of what you are, be what HE created
Be you...
