I’m a home body
but sometimes to what degree
still surprises me.
I have no swagger
but sometimes I am staggered
I look so haggard.
I’m now sixty one.
Changes in me equal none.
So why am I stunned?
I’m simply Marie,
and nothing should surprise me.
But “should,” is the key.
No surprise to me:
My prized phrase that has lasted?
“I’m flabbergasted.”
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
This little beauty is no longer six, wouldn’t want to be six, and would probably want me to let you know this is not based on a true story. But I paired my poem with this pic because, well, I love her death and the ‘tude totally works. 😉 Not sure who snapped this shot. Maybe her daddy?
“I think I’ll be six now forever and ever,”
she said, and I told her she’d need to be clever
to pull off this whimsical, wondrous endeavor.
Now, did I believe her? I didn’t. However,
she smirked as she pulled out her six-ever lever.
‘K. Whatever.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
(This is a sequel to Now We are Six, by the extraordinary A. A. Milne. My poem begins with his final line.)
Image courtesy of Pixabay’s ThePixelman
My stomach is tied up in knots.
I wonder who’s calling the shots.
And will they admit
when the bullet gets bit
even they had their own second thoughts?
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
Photo by Keith R. Good, 2014
“The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.” From The Go-Between, by L.P. Hartley
Hindsight is a curious thing.
It can swing from delight
to fright, and anything between.
I mean, we’ve seen the ways
the history books make crooks
look chaste. But oh,
the aftertaste.
And who would know
we owe apologies for
theologies twisted,
persisted, and falsely
scripted.
As we become aware
and lay bare the lies,
our own past appears
foreign in our eyes.
Don’t bury the dead.
Look behind; look ahead.
Yearn for better days.
Find better ways.
Learn who we are.
Raise the bar.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
pictured words 