Forward Arm
Karen Hallenbeck-Sikorsky-George BSRN
Sunday June 3rd, 2007
How many blades of grass, dandelions of weed insignia do you see
Blinded with your dark sunglasses, begging to ignore the simplest
Creations, the rose bush remains unwatered, dry, potted in dark plastic
Bearing down dry root rot like a pregnant sow having to birth, release the
Weighted burden from her inner part, there is a reproductive madness
In the living; animal, human, plant, creatures of existence, we must see
The island pink, the air clear, the temperature moderate
No one part offends or caresses my skin, why must my
Human whole fall apart before the honest truth fills me up
A gallon of gas, water, or milk; we are but one of HIS endings
The child repeats words, sounds, and her small face is emotionless
Portraying the replication of generations of want, fear, where is the kind
Giving present wrapped in foil, this complicated layer of indecision wears
Me thin, like water forming ice; not quite born, not yet ready to bear weight
Try to get on your feet, take one step at a time, allow empty nothing to
Give you solace, serenity, even love; if you get beyond this surly past time
Of judging the life that erects towers whether you want it or not
If you are given a ride, then return one, if it means carrying another
On your broken back in the heat of hell then lift that person up higher
Yes so much higher than you, the test tube of life is over, now
Is the last moment, the clock does not tick, there is no date or year
The sun rises, the moon sits expectant, imagine grandmother knitting a
Warm wool sweater, how it itches your skin, and the tears can fall
In sorrow, hate, or happiness; do not think, plan, return to sender for
The dollar signs rear like stallions to fight who HE made you to be
I know little but this, and misery is our life foundation, here, on earth
Blonde hair, dark skin, crimson eyes, mixtures of cake
Flavors of ice cream, tornado vestige, hurricane laugh, the
Triumphant appendage of an amputated snake head does
Not change the moment of faith, the light of hope, the spirit
I smoke Kool 100's in the box, why do I imitate my father's habit
He died almost 40 years ago but I'll chew my fingernails, laugh that
Silly laugh, remember him watching football on a Sunday afternoon,
And the heart attack that ended his life is just as gray and clammy
As his skin as he suffered irreversible pain, life's ending here and I
Will miss him (as I do me) when the afternoon rain removes heat
To be is not to know, and today there is not one speck
Of intellect left in this gifted mind, this body that is frail
Recuperating from infection, and still ready to trust a
Foreign car to guide me east, south, or nowhere
The grace is here, hidden on your address book
Black pen poised to write your name
We share a marriage, two names became one
Are you okay, or have you fallen down needle in vein
To remain a blade of grass hidden in torrential rain...
