RV Poetry

No matter what our dreams are, no matter if they are small dreams, temporary dreams, or humongous dreams, for most of us, there are times they seem impossible. It may be merely a shadow of doubt, or a full scale attack on our emotions, but it happens. Even when our now dreams are closer or we have succeeded at prior dreams, it weighs us down.

I did not contact Born Free yet. I know many would say, just do it, the money will come… I know, but the house is still hanging out by itself, allowing us to throw our money away on a house that stands ignored, so to speak. So, lack of sleep and frustration leads me back to my poetry. It is National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo), after all.

So, even as I lament one dream that remains not yet lived, I live another: my poetry and blog dreams are alive and kicking!

Relegated Memories

Her mind wanders past memories
of smiles worn, laughter shared,
past trips planned and dreams madeto stop on what-if-not  a dreary place where laughter curdles,
smiles sag like clothes too big
for a single body to fill,
and dreams fade, corners bend,
edges tatter -  Unfit for keeping in mind’s forefront,
she relegates them to rot
in desperation’s pile,
saved for the distant moment when enough.becomes.enough and self-preservation
lights the darkened corner
just enough to.read.between

faded lines of dreams

Marcia McLees Bogaert
04/28/08

Please, remember, all words and photos by Marcia McLees Bogaert unless otherwise noted. Honor my copyright. Thank you.

Destination Unknown

Orange bridge arched
through white clouds anchored in blue skies

to join chilled sun in its assault
against winter’s cold

as life’s breeze
disturbed still water beneath secured hulls
to unearth resting dreams.

MeeAugraphie
02/06/08

Originally posted on MeeAugraphie.com.  Inspired by this blog’s header photo, which I took in LaConner, WA, in 2007.  RVers many days travel to unknown places, yet they remain home in their hearts.

Front Row Seats

MeeAugraphie
11/09/07

Unconscious Mutterings free association today was much fun! That is all her meme requires from you, just associate. I have found it fun to write a poem from the 20 words, her ten and my ten! If you don’t already do her meme, you may want to try it. It is amazing what comes out of our minds. And if you are feeling adventurous, write a poem or story using the words, keeping them in order! But remember, if you do to link back to her meme since you are using it.

1. Savage :: beast
2. Warrior :: man
3. Daisy :: chain
4. Schedule :: me
5. Rock, paper, scissors :: paper
6. Medical :: student
7. Jade :: ring
8. Elevator :: path
9. Drain :: me
10. Goldfish :: bowl

Those words became:

Too Late

This savage beast
this warrior man
sits, legs crossed
lost in memories
of a battered daisy chain
thrown at him
in disgust on the day
his heart
awakened

too late

His schedule, back then
(or so he told her
in as much truth as he could muster)
would not allow such
trivial pursuits as
Rock, paper, scissors.

Paper, she said as he
turned to paint another
black line through her hope

Medical travesty
could not compare
with damage caused
by simple ignorance
of human needs

He was a student
by his description only
for he sat impatiently
at her side, his mind
on work or failure
or success or cannots

he was the man
who would stand
as she dropped
her father’s jade ring
the only physical evidence
of his existence
and watch disinterested

as she leaped from the elevator
to the darkness below,
skinned her bony knees
rubbed each finger raw
while searching the sandpaper
path for that connection

Her words tumbled out,
“You drain me
like the toddler
drained the goldfish bowl
to reach the marbles,”
as she
remembered the fish
as it tried in vain
to swim the humid air.
“I will flounder in
wait no longer.”

She tossed her daisy chain
at him as she grabbed
another’s lifeline.

This savage beast
this warrior man
sits, legs crossed
lost in memories
of a battered daisy chain
thrown at him
in disgust on the day
his heart
awakened

too late.

MeeAugraphie
06/03/07

This is, thank goodness, not an autobiography. . . Please do not copy my words without permission. Thank you. I would prefer you link so the link to Unconscious Mutterings remains intact, after all — it is her initial ten words that prompted me to write!