Tag Archive | hungry

Fed Up Breakfast

Mom puts the plate
in front of me
but I am too hungry
for biscuits
to see her

as anything
but the bringer of food
the washer
the dryer
the back of the house

whether she smiles
as she pours
the coffee or gravy
or turns to cry
I never see her

wipe her hands
hang the towels
exhale with a sigh
too much on her plate
till lunch

4/19/2015 – Patricia A. Hawkenson’s Reflections – He Came Wanting

He Came Wanting

Softly woven
in discarded
string and grass,
he hides
his hungry babies,
and I hear him
chattering angrily
through the glass,
yet I have no time,
no stale bread
to toss his way.

My thoughts
are tied
to her clinic,
those time gorging
IV drips,
and no amount
of banging
my head
against the glass
can coax cancer
from her veins
and hand her
that small cracker,
that extra day,
that God refused
to give.

12/16/09 Patricia A. Hawkenson’s Reflections – No Second Helpings

clock

No 2nd Helpings

In her day she
had all the time she wanted
to hear clock music
between 2 layer pie crusts
and skimming cream
off milk.

Tick and tock,
1 and 2,
1 and 2.

At the end of my day
I’m the hungry 1,
living in a 2% world
where everything,
but me,
is thinned.

I feast alone
at the smorgasbord
of life
trying this and that,
1 and 2,
1 and 2.

My pie comes frozen
with cream in a can
and still I hunger
for more.

Time lays cold
between 2 layers of dirt.

I am the lonely
1.

9/29/09 Patricia A. Hawkenson’s Reflections

Fledgling

I fly to the water
desiring the wisdom
of the old lake
her wrinkled ripples
urging.

My mouth closes
at each wave
as it washes over me
then gaping open
my head up
like a hungry seagull
when my needed breaths
must come.

Back on shore
I brag of my experience,
a youth seduced,
with a juicy wet
story to tell.

Illusions of Grandeur

Google Earth
has a layer
for everything
from stores,
to roads,
to trees.

But zoom
in closer
to find a techno God,
in Armageddon mode,
has deleted
all the people.

On your next
simulated trip,
zoom out further
to heaven’s layer
and see if I am there.

9/02/09 Patricia A. Hawkenson’s Reflections

Bed Spread

In the morning the light is pouring in
through the slits in the blinds
creating blurring splotches
fluid against the wall.

I can see only the shadowy silhouette
of my fingertips as they flow
over the knuckle mountains
and hand valleys lying across your chest.

You are slowly waking with one eye
skeptical as you see me lying beside you
smearing the line between
what I remember and what you forgot.

When Two Worlds Collide

The cloth lay on the table
innocent in its intentions
to become something amazing,
and it held within its fibers
the inspiration we needed.

My daughter, only six, asked me,
“Who controls the power of clothes?”
I answered, “You do.”

Soon, with a hungry anticipation
and an eye for design,
she dressed for Halloween
as a Recess Peanut Butter cup.

It was difficult to control
my urge to eat her up.