CHILDREN

There was a family I spent a lot of time with over the years. We weren’t very close when they first bought their house in my neighborhood. But, as time went on, we began to share experiences, moments, good and bad-as friends do.
The father of the family would mutter under his breath if he was angry about something. He never told me anything directly because he didn’t like to talk about his problems. When he was happy, he’d work on the garden with his children.
Those times were enjoyable for me, because we didn’t have to speak. I’d watch the three of them enjoying each other’s company and it was enough for me to just be there. There was laughter, curiosity expressed with many questions, and occasional bickering. The children were brother and sister after all.
The only family member who ever spoke directly to me was the mother. It wasn’t often because she rarely ever ventured outside to our friendly meeting spot. When the whole family showed up, it was for a barbecue or a special occasion, like a birthday.
I was okay with that because I preferred spending time with them individually. It was far more satisfying. When the mother of this family did come to see me, she looked stressed. Her hair was messy from her yanking and shaking hands. As soon as she approached me, the tears began to flow and I waited for her to speak.

She’d look at me, but her eyes were far away. She’d always say things like, “I can’t do this,” or “They deserve better.” I knew she meant she was doubting herself. I wanted to tell her she was a good mom and that her children loved her. But I couldn’t. She cried harder, the more she spoke about her children. The sobbing couldn’t drown out the screaming coming from inside the house. Her eyes would focus on me and she’d say,”I have to go back.”

Those times were sad meetings for me, but I cared for this family and-as a friend-I wanted to be there for all their experiences. The children interacted with me the most.
The daughter was only five years old and the son was twelve. They liked to be silly with me, which I loved. They’d chase each other, look for insects to collect, and roll around in the grass, laughing.
When they smiled and laughed, you could almost forget they had any disabilities. I loved it. Their smiles were innocent, sometimes curious, and always beautiful.

Their laughter filled me with joy. In those moments, they were like other children. But I knew how special they were. They just navigated and perceived the world differently. But so did I, and that was fine.
The children were definitely my favorites of the family. I didn’t want them to leave but the day had come. The family had sold their house and was planning to move very far away. I knew I’d never see them again.

The sadness nearly overwhelmed me before it became bittersweet. Each family member glanced at me, one by one, smiling as they said goodbye. Though I longed to follow them, I could not.

I was a tree. Their tree. Always.

Jessica S.

June 2019

Raspberry

Another birthday had arrived and my granddaughter was coming for the celebration. She lived far away so this was a special treat. Soon the family arrived and Keira jumped into my arms telling me that she had an extra special gift for me.  A few presents were opened and Keira just couldn’t wait anymore, bursting at the seams wanting to tell me what it was.

“Poppy, Poppy open it up, open it up!”she exclaimed .

I peeled off the wrapping and pulled out a plastic bag with a Fighting Beta fish in it. Not having planned on this, I fussed over the fish making a big splash to her delight. It came with all the accoutrements including a tank, light, food and filters.

Things went along well after the party. Raspberry (as Keira had named her) fit into our life and we got along swimmingly. A vacation had been planned and I asked one of my daughters to feed the fish while we were gone.

We had a nice time and returned home after a week that had quickly passed. As I went about the apartment unpacking I noticed something unusual in the tank and drawing closer, I realized that Raspberry had grown a potbelly in my absence! I asked my daughter how often she had fed the fish. Showing a guilt-ridden face she confessed that she had lost track and fed her a few times a day.

Raspberry needed a makeover. It took her a while to come to this realization and she floundered around for a while about making this commitment. One day on a fluke she started to dart around the bowl swimming faster and faster, creating a whirlpool in her wake just for the halibut. She was ready for the challenge! From that point forward, it seemed that the tide had turned and I decided to take Raspberry to Weight Watchers with me since she seemed so motivated to get back into shape. Putting her bowl on the seat next to me, we got a number of funny looks at first, but given the current zeitgeist of political correctness, people held their tongues and kept their opinions to themselves. Clearly, Raspberry seemed to enjoy getting back to school and paid attention, swimming while facing the speaker the whole time. When we got home, she started to swim continuous laps around the bowl and scaled back on her portions at mealtime. Within days, the potbelly began to dissipate and she started to get back into fish form. Each day she swam many laps around the bowl and was clearly hooked on her workout, occasionally taking a break to relax, put her fins up and watch JAWS or Animal Planet while sharing a Swedish fish with me.

Now, Raspberry has resumed her goal of making the 2020 US Olympic swim team, Fish Division and I would not be surprised if she attains her goal and swims to the top of the podium!                                                                                                                                                                                                                   Jim

6/19

Who Am I?

I am thinking of when you first came into my life. You were a
wonderful surprise and it took some time to get to know you.

You are smart beyond belief and ever present to me if I but ask.
You are as near as my left arm and spontaneous as can be. You are
reassuring, always alluring leaving me wanting your presence more.

Where have you been all my life? If only I had known you were
there for the asking ever multi tasking, over the phone, my mind has
been blown!

There is nothing we can't talk about, nothing you won't answer
Where oh where did you come from...I know where, and it's taught me
to care, when to be fair, what to say when you are at a loss, what
shall I tell my boss.There is no question too big or too small, no way
you won't be aware, no time you won't spare, always fair.

I'm stuck at this place as I try to place the moniker I can give
you, a nickname of sorts among friends, the list never ends,
consistent, your manner is teaching a teachable student, you told me
when the student is ready, the teacher appears. Here I am teacher to
call your name again and be rewarded with your ever ready answers! The
time is up, I picked a name: you are my great Grandma Google!!!

Cathy M

June 2019

June 21st Downpour

It had happened once again. The water poured down in straight, unending lines, squeezing all the moisture out of the heavens. Yes, the Gods had become forgetful recently. With all the excitement of the change of seasons today and various planned festivities both among the Gods and on Earth, precipitation had been left behind like forgetting to turn off the hallway light or put out the cat. 

Mother Earth cried up with praying hands, “Please be more considerate and thoughtful. I haven’t been able to dry my green dress for weeks. The weather is making me feel gloomy and even the smell of wet forests becomes overdone eventually!” But the rain continued to fall leading up to the Solstice. 

Tomorrow, with clearer heads and parties over, with the realization that the decline of daylight had begun, Helios would sober up, turn off the showers and unfurl his mane, shaking his head to tease out his golden hair, filling the sky with every hue, creating a halo around his brilliant face. The new one hundred and eighty-two-day reign would begin with great strength as he slowly declined over the months.

Jim

June 2018

My Grandmother

When I think of the only grandmother I ever knew, I think of meatballs. It was her specialty. When I was a kid, my siblings, my parents, and I would visit her every Sunday.

We complained and whined because we were kids and the walk from the north side of Brooklyn to Williamsburg felt long and exhausting. In reality, it only took us about an hour. My dad never took us on the bus. When we begged him, he always responded with, “You kids are so f***ing lazy!” or “Oh my god!” with exasperation. Mom would side with him and say, “It’s too much money.” We’d always sigh and roll our eyes, because, according to her, everything was too much money. Even a bottle of water. We griped anyway because we were kids.

When we arrived at Grandma’s house, we were crabby, tired and thirsty. Grandma was always in the same spot in her big kitchen: in front of the stove. The apartment already smelled like delicious Italian food when we arrived, which around 11am or so. This was due to her Sunday ritual of waking up at 8am to start cooking. She knew we’d arrived as soon as she heard my mom’s greeting.

“We’re here, Margret.”

She rushed to us, hugged us and smothered us in kisses, all while saying, “Bambini,” which is Italian for “children.” She smiled at us with love while we flushed in embarrassment. I always cringed a little because she was always sweaty from the heat of the stove and smelled like the various ingredients scattered about the table. Once she freed us from her embrace, we ran into the living room to watch television and play. My older brother, Gary, always escaped to our cousin, J.J.’s room as they were close in age. My younger siblings, William and Debbie, busied themselves with tag and other fun games that bored me too quickly.

I always found myself wandering into the kitchen. I’d sit down and watch my grandma work, while my mom chatted with her. My dad always left to go see his friends and go to the store. I found out years later that he did this because no one liked him.

My grandma was an expert at multitasking. While she moved around the kitchen like a chef in a restaurant, she told my mother and me stories of her childhood. On one rare occasion where I actually listened to her, she recounted a story about my uncle.

“One night I couldn’t sleep because John wasn’t home yet," she said. "I was sitting on my bed. He strolled in drunk around midnight and passed out on the floor! Right in front of my bed. I looked at him, shook my head and you know what I said?”

My mom and I waited for the punchline-the best part-and shook our heads to say we didn’t know.

"'Well,' I said," she continued. "'This is what I gave birth to?’”

We burst out laughing.

While I listened occasionally, most of the time I tuned her out so I could focus on my daydreaming. I daydreamed a lot-maybe too much-when I was a child. As an adult, I regret tuning her out, because my mom told me I was her favorite grandchild. I couldn’t understand why. I barely spoke. I lived in my head so much that I think I missed out on a lot that was going on around me. Still, once my grandma placed the meatballs on the table, I snapped to attention. They were huge, smelled amazing, and tasted even better. Over the years, both my parents had tried to replicate the recipe. Both of them failed. When I ate them and sat with my grandma, she smiled at me and told me how much she loved me. She made me forget how unhappy I was when I was home. Her kitchen was an escape from my reality.

To this day, I wish I’d stopped my daydreaming long enough to really get to know her. But, from the little I did know about her, she was a wonderful person. She wasn’t our grandmother by blood, but that made no difference to her. And she made sure to let us know this fact every Sunday.

Jessica S.

June 2019

A Flower's Monologue

A flower looking up to the tree says,

“I want to be taken care of and protected by you.”

“I want your shade to block out the sun when it becomes too hot. And I want your shade to shelter me from the thunderstorm and the howling wind.”

“At times, I would want to be showered by the rain through your leaves. I would also want to see the clouds floating by over your head and the rainbow beyond the mountains.”

“If you look down, you would see the green grass under me as the stage for my beautiful life. The birds, the butterflies, and the honey bees are all attracted to my sweet scent and my colorful dresses. They come to taste the special candy I made for them.”

“But you are the only one I want to share with: the sun, the rain, the cloud, the rock, the pond and the children’s play. And far beyond, we will share the stars in the universe.”

 “At times of taking a dim view of life in nature, we share tears, laughter, anger and happiness.”

“You are tall and strong, you are able to protect me. I look weak and fragile. But don’t be fooled by my appearance. Deep inside of me, I am strong, I am proud, and I want to be your friend.”

“Nature puts us on the same planet, the birds put us next to each other. We therefore share the same sky, the same sunshine, the same rain and the same land. Upfront, we are two in one as a unified comrade to enjoy or fight the world; in the back we are one in two with two different souls seeking two different dreams. You want to grow vertical up to the sky; while I want to grow horizontal on earth to build a garden for many.”

S.P. Ma

June 2017

Breathing

I am filled with words.

Words I wish to become poems.

My poems beg simple ordinary

words in colorful dress. 

I inhale and exhale words 

that sing, whisper and scream at me.

Words, pirouette, spiral, revolve

leap, spring, changing their hues 

constantly, beige to bronze

mauve to crimson, amber to ebony.

These words expand and bloat me

fill my sleep with dreams 

of dark cloaked demons

laughing sprightly sprightly spirits

in gossamer attire pleading

to become poems, poems, poems.

 

LCB - June 2019

The Flower

       It started as a seed falling from between the feathers of a passing bird as it flew by on its migration.  The seed reordered itself pushing and tugging like a seal on land, trying to burrow in the rich brown earth that engulfed it with its earthy aroma. The seed hurried before another bird saw it and swallowed it as an early morning tidbit.     

       After extensive effort, the seed managed to burrow beneath the soil cooling its body, which had begun to feel crusty, and dried out with the rays of the early morning sun. She could not get mad though since the sun was only doing its job and doing it well, I might add. Soon roots grew from her feet while her trunk and head rose as a green slithering shaft, which broke through the soil to kiss the sun.  She had worn a beautiful bonnet that now bloomed into a flower catching the eye of passing bees and hummingbirds that flirted with her as they passed.

Jim - June 2019