MJ blathers

dark poet who loves to laugh


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mother human

my kids have seen me
when even i know
i am acting like a fool
they’ve calmed me from fury
curled into my arms
when i’m overwhelmed
with grief
they’ve told me to rest
when i’m bleary-eyed
and cranky, frustrated
and fearful of losing
everything – yet again
and yet, they rain flowers –
rhodies, carnations, roses,
petunias red, purple, blue,
blush ivory, forgiving white –
upon me on a day which celebrates
what i know i have have come
close to failing to deserve
my kids have raised me well


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live theatre

the energy
from live stage
performs reconstructive
surgery upon an audience
invisible, colorless
perhaps not odorless
as sweat and greasepaint
lubricate the edge
of the scalpel
that cuts through layers
of everyday masks
to reach raw emotion
it is not whether
the actor weeps
but whether
the audience feels
his pain


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ken’s song

he sang
in the shower
at the BBQ pit in the yard
stirring the embers
in the bar for karaoke
in the car
on his Harley-Davidson
matching his key
to the sound of the bike
tires on the road
in the church choir
the music in his soul
allowed him kindness
to gathering family
neighbors, congregation
a stranger needing a hand
and now that willing spirit
tenors in celestial choir
adding pure tone
to the music of the spheres