Friday, July 17, 2009

Six Word Saturday

Sometimes words shine a guiding light
(I love poetry. I wrote this some time ago, and it guides me still)
Kansas City Hope
We planned that stolen trip
to Kansas City when the dogwoods
readied to open wide,
the pinks of the universe
reassuring that some things deliver.
I thought about strolling in that promenade,
reaching for the wild roots--
trusted jubilant hands
washing secrets clean
and steadying those fickle fears.

I thought along the streets
we’d find some stones,
lying there like easy promises,
different in pattern and size
but rock solid, like the sound

Of running water at midnight.
I wanted to hear you turn the faucets--
your impulsive hand guiding
the steady flow
of this surprising outcome.

I didn’t dare tell you
about the questions
lying at the curb
tucked under hidden trash,
safely protected by petrified answers--
not the kind that cause rigor mortis
but the kind that strengthen
even when they bend.

I wanted to tell you I felt safe
that day In Kansas City.
I told myself that I could
let the roots and water and questions
wash over me
until I was soaked in my own security.

I wanted you to know
about foundations built on sand
but fortified through grace and gravity--
strengthened when muscle and movement form,
and skin that protects—
and even glistens—
from the August place where we began.

I wanted to tell you we are both safe here,
that whatever happens hope will float around us.
I wanted you to know this.
I thought we should both know.
So when the itinerary changed
I was not prepared.

I wondered how long it will take
for the obvious to settle,
until Kansas City is Chicago
and Chicago is Newark
and the curbside trash
Is worth every stretch and every risk.
I didn’t know this then, I didn’t:
I thought the things that matter
were formed strictly in the place
where roots and unspoken hope
converge in one cemented spot.

I thought we could walk on this one promenade
and resolve our differences in only this one way. .
I didn’t know until the very moment
when you changed the plan
and the opportunity was gone

That even in the years ahead—
even through disappointments
too quickly frozen in place
we will still be here and there,
slip sliding straight into
the destiny of a sunny day,
looking down, and then around,
comfortable in our common ground.

I didn’t know
that we can walk through any promenade—
the ones in little cities and the ones in the Arizona desert--
and we will still find every missing piece
safely, solemnly, soulfully tucked beneath
our best intentions.


  1. When the roads shift expectations don't

  2. Writing poetry heals broken, shattered dreams.

  3. Hi KJ! I found your log through Renee and through Angela. Love the poetry. And I have never seen the "six words" game - sounds like a fun game! I look forward to following you!

  4. Roads are always shifting. I wonder what it would be like if they didn't-if it would be boring or comforting.

    I wonder why, since roads always shift, we are surprised when they do?

  5. Lovely poem. Like Debra kay, why are we always surprised? I think the shifting of sand is good if sometimes sad, rolling with it is the trick :-).

  6. I like the story, it seems real, with real feelings, I loved the part where it says
    "safely protected by petrified answers" that is a great phrase, it is really great.
    I think the protagonist plans too much when this or that is going to happen, and things do not work that way specially regarding feelings and human relations. I guess she knows this but she can´t help herself anyway.

  7. I know you had a good day today - so I hope that there are pictures coming and long tales. Me is jealous!

  8. walking man, you are wise.

    marion, writing helps for sure. healing: ah time......

    audrey, hello,thank you for stopping by. i invite you to join in on six word saturday. i'll stopping by your blog to say hello back. :)

    debra kay, all i can say is it is fascinating to me to see how this poem is interpreted and the kind advice given. sometimes i think i don't accept surprise because i've counted on loyalty or love or something more solid than 'surprise!'

    annie, i'm a master though reluctant roller!

    mariana, yes, the narrator plans too much. but where is that line between enough and too much?

    mim, hello! no pictures, but beautiful smiling faces. our girl is creating a wonderful nest. she is a doll, as we already knew and know. i was alittle nervous....xo

  9. I think that for example you should not try to plan in advance things related to how you are going to feel, and things you are not sure about, and still have serious doubts.
    At least lests start with that

  10. mariana, i may print out this comment of yours and carry it around with me. why didn't you tell me this a couple of years ago?


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  12. I am really glad it helped my friend

  13. I don't know that I'd wish away the uncertainty and changes. It's what makes life life. And yet...

  14. cs, i like to think i am able to roll with the punches. but in my life twice the punch has knocked me down for the count and it's taken me a bit of time to get up again. sometimes my heart defends itself with toothpicks, that's the problem!

    val, i know, val, and i love you for it.