Thursday, September 29, 2011

Patzee's Bed Poems

Photo by Michelle Kunert, Sacramento

—Patricia Hickerson, Davis

all summer day at Pobyty
we rode up the mountain
greened and steep
and walked down…all day
feverish with the day
sunlight parched me

now night
now midnight
the moon wakes me
I see a shape
now come to me
I see you lurking on the balcony
Count Dracula at my open door
hot from vampire battle
gather me in your cape

my room in the Pobyty mountains
at a balcony
the open door invites you
a sheet of moonlight covers me
you are waiting
your hands revive my fever
it doesn’t have to be logical
or nice

your naked war-torn eyes


—Patricia Hickerson

August heat no breath of air
the bed by the window
to gasp the passing breeze
cool for s second on the forehead—
her heart wrapped in a sheet of pain
for the sailor who went to war
that very day
left her with a kiss and a hug so tight
it could break a rib


—Patricia Hickerson

this is where Mother spends the winter
in bed
broad bed between the windows
her bed
upstairs in the big bedroom
the mahogany four poster

Mother is not well
what is wrong, I’m not sure
just that she has to go to bed
when it’s winter and it’s cold

the sheets are as white as Mother’s face
she’s bundled under them long and lean
her fingers grasp the covers thin and pale
hands pale as ghost hands
Mother, be up and strong and out of bed

I come in from school
she calls to me in her sick voice
she wants me to come upstairs to see her
her voice floats down
yet holds me in a vise
I’m angry
I run through the house to the garage
stand in the cold
anywhere to be far, far away
from Mother in bed
I pretend to cry
when Grandma comes to find me
“Mother is upset that you didn’t go up to see her”
I pretend to cry; not real tears
I’m angry
Grandma tries to comfort me
she doesn’t know I’m in a rage:
Mother’s in bed again

one more winter of Mother in bed
with whatever is wrong with her
I pretend to cry


—Patricia Hickerson

a bed by the wall
for the guest
next to the wall
the house next door
next to the wall
the other house
their bedroom
children going to bed
their voices next to the wall
where the guest sleeps
in a bed by the wall

in the Bronx
a guest in a bed by the wall
hearing children’s voices
as they are put to bed
children being put to bed
a glass of milk
a story about puppies

the guest in the bed
the bed by the wall
next to
next to another house
in the Bronx
separated by a wall
where children go to bed
their voices…in the Bronx


—Patricia Hickerson

where Bob sleeps
the daybed
covered with a golden spread
fine-ribbed cloth
night after night he sleeps here
Bob falls into bed and sleeps

from house to house
street to street
river to river
town to town
city to city
state to state
wherever …
wherever the bed is placed
living room
dining room
sun room
Bob falls into his daybed
Bob sleeps


It's a furniture kind of day: Thanks to Michelle Kunert for her photos of these interesting chairs, and to Pat Hickerson for her "bed" poems, including some pre-Halloweeny images. I like that bed idea so well that we're going to make it a bonus Seed of the Week: Bed Poems. So now you have two SOWs to choose from: Autumn or Bed Poems. Plenty of inspiration, I hope!~~~Not to mention the ottava rima~~~(People use those curly things for dashes, so I thought I'd try it, too.) But there are no deadlines on SOWs, so have your way with any of those listed in Calliope's Closet (under Snake on a Rod on the green board). Send those—or poems or photos or art on any other subject—to or P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726.  And thanks to Janet Pantoja for today's LittleNip~~~a Pleiades, as you can see.

The Sacramento Poetry Center is proud to announce the winner of the 2011 SPC Book Contest: Michelle Bitting from Palisades Park, CA, for her manuscript, Notes to the Beloved (formerly The Desirous Act of Looking). Go to or for a preview of her work.

Today's LittleNip: 

—Janet Pantoja, Woodinville, WA

Occupied: computer games
Obsess young people today.
Our grandchildren spend hours
On these electronic games—
Outside play, creative fun
Obscured, interaction with
Others nearly discarded.



Photo by Michelle Kunert