Swinging on the pendulum from sassiness to sensitivity to seriousness, Merri Hiatt shares sixty-two poems about love, compansionship, being a cancer surivor and both the human and spiritual experience.
Dip your toe in the Puddle of Poetry and experience life and all its glorious emotions. Sometimes we all need to get a bit wet.
A few poem titles:
New Baby Smell
Daffodil Whispers
In This Moment
Red Suspenders
Addicted
Unforgiving Soil
Caged Flowers
In the Shallows
Who God Is
Cancer's Hot Breath
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ADDICTED
It roots itself deeply in your soul.
Plays endlessly with your every emotion.
Stings your senses with its poison.
It easily insinuates itself into being your
best friend and your worst enemy --
all rolled into one huge ball of
abhorrent discontent.
You play it cool.
Act as if the danger isn't near.
Can't touch you.
Won't control you.
Doesn't own you.
And then one day you realize
the grip is so tight
you can't even dream of escape.
Guess who you've become?
A three-syllabled
shell of your former self.
Addicted.
CAGED FLOWERS
Home Depot builds cages
to keep its flowers and plants
from escaping.
Tall.
Black.
Wiry
cages.
I wonder if an escaping rose bush
is a common problem?
It's like the doors
in public bathrooms
with their metal locks
and thick doors.
Is there a big problem
with people trying to ram the doors
and watch people pee?
The leaves on the tree next to my staircase
were amazing today.
Fresh.
Vibrant.
Kelly green.
They changed overnight.
I swear they weren't like that yesterday.
I would help them,
the plants and flowers
housed within
those
tall
black
wiry
cages
at Home Depot,
if they asked me to.
CANCER'S HOT BREATH
Even now I can feel the hot sting of death
from the dragon?s fiery throat
against my neck.
Blazing a trail down my spine.
The spittle sizzles on my flesh
as the cells inside my body seize
with an infestation of disease.
You see me as a whole, complete person.
Your eyes deceive you.
I am the walking wounded.
A woman who swims
inside a swirling, frenetic spiral
intent on consuming her.
The hairs on the back of my neck
stand on end.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting for the teeth of the beast
to pierce my fleshy tissue.
How long can I run?
How long can I endure the hunt?
The game I play
has become far too real,
and yet something stirs inside me
and will not let me succumb.
It bids me onward.
Gives my feet wings.
Lets my spirit sing with hope
that the sticky breath will be abated
and I shall be victorious.
COMPANION OF MY SOUL
i see you
through the warm eyes of love --
the thinning hair
the failing vision
the creaking body
fade from view
what do i see when i look at you --
a gentle heart
warm, soft hands
wonderful crinkly laugh lines
the best part --
walking beside you
sharing the silence
traveling the journey
with the companion of my soul
DAFFODIL WHISPERS
Daffodils wave their sunny heads
as passersby
snap photographs.
The sea of brilliant yellow blooms
whispers to their tender souls:
pause for a moment,
breathe in
the beauty that surrounds you,
remember every second is a gift,
come dance with me
in the warm breeze --
it will be time well spent.
