Help Me

Help me.
The air conditioners
drum.
It’s like
sleeping

with water bugs.
I will not say
those words.

copyright
eileen lewis-lurin
7/10/11

Hey guys- I have lost a little control here. I cannot find my poems and my memory does not help me .

if you you cannot find them, please look in my archives for Cathedral School and my poem about God, etc.

I wrote about books also.

No names are

No names are necessary:

Reunion 3: fiction and non-fiction

I remember when I dragged

my father -digitalis up-upp the stairs

to see the plant in your living room.

I remember us all standing there.

I remember our silence,

our incredible silence

when your father died.

alone. Your grandmother standing

in your kitchen,waiting for your coming home.

 

Your hole in -one – in your girdle as you dated the man you married before we graduated.

your silences.

your laughter at me.

I remember the face of the boy i loved. i wanted to marry.

How you laughed.

What mirror-how small it would be

it could be.

I remember what we wanted to see.

Eileen Lewis-Lurin @ 5/8/2013

 

The Vase, Gaze

The Vase, Gaze

I love when scarlet tulips

reach straight out to me

from a squat, white, ceramic vase.

It takes three pieces of

ice when

I open my eyes, and cold water in their vase

before i go to bed.

Set them off to one side, on

a blue,round table that sits in the center of the

room, opaque, yet shimmering,

open to my gaze.

Breathing is expensive, emotional-

and then requires follow-up, even for scarlet tulips that do not kiss.

Eileen Lewis-Lurin, Last week, April 9th, 2013, Copyright

 

 

 

 

 

 

John Finely Walks to Carl’s Park

John Finely walks to Carl’s Park

on a chilly Easter noon.

Cherry blossom buds

reflect in the Mercedes hood

parked at the corner of the park.

The bird doesn’t look up

as it digs into the buried lock,

not even as we walk by.

We walk the stairs, “Let’s go home.”

Ten tulips stick their green-tipped noses out.

copyright Easter morning and again a revision on

Eileen Lewis-Lurin 4/11/13