Disguises and Enigmas

 Facade

—Poems and Original Artwork by Joyce Odam, Sacramento, CA

 

DISGUISES

There she is again, my mother, showing up
in somebody else’s photos or poems—
somebody else’s life that sounds like mine.

How does she do that and remain my own.
This time she has on her white dress
and summer hat. That’s me by her side—

held close to her.  She dotes on me.

And I am shy. Awkward. Not pretty like her.
Sometimes she pretends not to know me—
glancing away at a particular moment.

But I know that’s just one of
her enigmas that she keeps from me—
her eyes always give one flick of recognition.

 Green Cocktail

FOOLISH THOUGHTS

What is this feeling that comes over me?
I hear a dove and sense a loneliness.

A tiny sparrow makes me want to cry.
Oh, Fie! That strange word.

How can a word come back like that
from nowhere?

Makes no sense to be so close to tears :
something as simple as a texture,

or a tone
of someone’s voice.

What do I miss this moody day
that overwhelms me so?

 Earth as an Old Balloon

EXOTIC NAMES

You all have foreign names, dear ghosts
and never-met-friends of my imagined
other lives—laden with mysterious and
curious endings, remembered later in full
and partial detail : the dark moviedom,
names significant with foreignness, like
the names I gave to paper dolls—glamour
names, movie after movie of my own pre-
tending—believable—to the unrealities I
live now that I am old and out of plots
with nothing that can measure up.


(prev. pub. in Medusa's Kitchen, 2015)

 Fishbowl
 

TRICKERY

She is gold light
personified into woman—
you see her through half-closed eyes,
how she appears at the edge of
your disbelief, how she seems real.

Believe in her.
She is there
for your imagination—
only yours.
She shimmers.

All her thoughts are transparent.
Do not fear her. She is only woman.
She is only light. As long as
you are not shadow,
she will exist.

 Where and When

SHE IS YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL

He will put on the mask
and make her smile.

Whatever he says
she will believe.

He will shine for her
inside the mask.

Whatever she wants
he will obtain.

No flaw will show . . .
no cruelty.

And when she believes
he will remove the mask.

 Wherever

FEBRUARY IN RETROSPECT

Create a missive to send—
one for the love, or one for the heart
left over from brokenness.

Hearts are unfair—
as if to forgive must always retain
the ache and beat again.

Maybe a single sentence will do
or a page of rapid scribbling
too fast to read.

Let the receiver open
or not—know or not know
—what to anticipate.

Sign with the receiver’s name
—for this is the purpose
of your intention—

whether to
send,
or even write this Valentine.

___________________

Today’s LittleNip:

FLICKERINGS
—Joyce Odam

Small pieces of light
flit everywhere,

some turning color
as if made of crystal,

some staying at the corner of my eye
to pretend I only imagine them.

Who tells me this
if not you, O my mother?

I know you tease me—
this familiar game we play.

___________________

Thank you, Joyce Odam, for today’s cookin’s in the Kitchen around the subject of Just a Masquerade, our Seed of the Week. Our new Seed of the Week is In the Garden, In Her Bonnet. Send your poems, photos & artwork about this (or any other) subject to kathykieth@hotmail.com. No deadline on SOWs, though, and for a peek at our past ones, click on “Calliope’s Closet”, the link at the top of this column, for plenty of others to choose from.

For up-coming poetry events in our area, scroll down to the blue column (under the green column at the right) for info—and note that more may be added at the last minute.

___________________

—Medusa (Kathy “Think Metaphor” Kieth)

In the Garden, In Her Bonnet

 —Anonymous Photo

 

  

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