Tracy
McPherson, US
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Free
Verse
Taking
back a life
She stood there smiling
Tears in her eyes
Sugarland is wailing in the background
“Why Don’t You Stay”…
the anthem for every “other woman”
Out there that finally
found her boundary,
Level of abuse, or courage
And stood up
Saying no more
lonely weekends,
lies,
empty holidays
a deep shaky breath
and a blanket of peace
envelopes her
Freedom
Is her song now
Hope is her dream
In one quick moment
Closing the door on
Stolen time
On a deadend street
Opened a door
Of resolve
and bright
Possibilities.
Rock
People
Silent
sentinels watching over
Sacred land and healing waters
celebrating Winter’s snow and Spring’s rain
Showy
Desert in bloom
Ex
Communication
He sat there
at the table
wearing his sunglasses
and baseball cap
God she hated seeing
Anyone wearing a cap
In the house, disrespect
Or hiding a bald crown,
Who knew other than him.
He said “ we need to talk”,
His idea. He was drinking again
And the drugs weren’t far away.
She knew the Sunglass ruse
“If you can’t See my eyes
you won’t know what
I’m thinking or feeling.”
He was leaving again.
There is a job in New Mexico,
a big one, a promise of big money.
I’m leaving tomorrow I’ll call ya.
Another woman making his world right.
She knew the routine, leaving for
Work, calling home broke. Whom
Ever he left with had left him.
Send me bus fare, air fare, gas money.
No, she said, Don’t call. I’ve
Nearly paid off the house, the kids are fine.
You need your freedom and so do I.
As he drove away he knew it wasn’t glare
From the sun in his eyes. He wondered why
She said don’t call, don’t come back.
Forgiveness
I watched you
recede
from the thundering warrior
threatening my existence,
cursing my attempts at growth,
healing and abundance
always sneering, blaming
belligerent and demeaning.
violence lurking in
the shadows
of your hazel eyes
as my forgiveness of
myself and you grew.
You shrank in threat
and dimension to
a squalling, helpless
child, ghost that you are
not able to own me
In forgiveness I freed
You and found
My freedom.
September
17, 1787
All those good
men
Who spent days and
Nights searching their
Hearts
To be free of monarchy
To guarantee Democracy
Have cried out in agony
And despair from their
Places in the heavens
As the slow death of their
Finest work takes place.
The horrors of all the
Wars this country fought
For our freedom is now
Being brought to our shores,
Our homes, our schools
Our businesses
While we stood
cheering for change
little did we know
or foresee the crumbling
the disintegration of that
work of love and human
rights…the death knell
we hear whispering out there
is our own freedom. Taxation
without representation,
containment centers for
national emergencies
strangely resembling
internment camps
mandatory medical treatment
Second amendment denied
Bill of Rights trampled
By Political stampede Greed
Taps for America
May 2009
It doesn't
matter
It doesn’t matter
where you are coming from.
Within two miles of the shore
You begin to feel more electric, more alive.
Every cell of your being attunes to the salt air.
Is it memory body jogged by the salt tang
that blasts you into a joyous state of awareness?
You arrive, not jumping and running for the water.
More like a lover moving in slow anticipation of soulful
reunion.
Breathing deeply as your body remembers fins,
gills, dolphin play and whale song and
turtle carrying the world on her back. Currents ,
reefs, undersea markers all there in your DNA,
in your memory banks
Sand crunching beneath your feet
as you step from the vehicle,
stretching and taking in the view.
Smiling as you reach for your board
So expanded in consciousness, a part of it all.
Family Reunion
Aka Chock Full
O’Nuts
All the excitement
Seeing Aunt Betty
(hasn’t been sober
since high school)
And Uncle Charles
(still draggin' for pinks on
the boulevard)
Sister Suzie knows
She is the Queen of daNile)
Husband Greg (the groper)
The Bank President who
Looks down his sociopath
Nose at the pot growing
Genius brother who is making more
Money selling contraband
Than Charlie the BP who
Only rips off unsuspecting
Bank clientele
Aunt Maude, family’s
Answer to Tyler Perry’s
Aunt Medea and the
Rest of the less
Colorful but just
As loved family
as Harry the
Horse thief and Fern
the radical Minister, who
has a love 'em or leave 'em
attitude about her past
philandering husbands
and her current amores.
Barbecue, blather, beer
And laughter amid all
The sweaty minds hoping
No one will broach what
Ever the subject about
Which family member
That has everyone’s
Knickers in a knot.
Cake and Ice cream
Anyone?
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