Glory

July 21, 2010

all this
weight and beauty
above me
below
within
without
–and i so small–
how shall i ever
find words to express it all?

©Erin Kilmer, 2010

all done

July 12, 2010

too often
i forget
how blessed
i am
to push
my plate
away
and say
i am
too full
to finish

© 2010 Erin Kilmer

********

this is a part of a series of poetry i am doing using the words and phrases my daughter says. yesterday i began with “soft.” i hope to do one a day for thirty days, having been inspired by this post at 32 Poems.

Soaking In

June 10, 2010

Soaking In
by Erin Kilmer

Summer stretches before me–
a gentle hammock swung between
spring’s blossomed branches
And autumn’s fabulous foliage.

And though I know
that much of her rest is but mirage,
I also am quite sure that dishes will wait
while I go out and revel in her warm ways.

Powerless, Part 2

May 30, 2010

to see part 1, click here.

Powerless, part 2
by Erin Kilmer

I know you can see me here
when you look out your window.

I’m waiting for the wall to come down,
for the chains to be loosed.

I wait for you to walk out free,
holding hands with your beloved,

children romping around your feet.
I pray it will happen someday,

and we will walk to the market
and feel the firm, ripe peaches and plums.

We will picnic in the park with the ants
and fried chicken and corn on the cob.

But until then– I am without and you are within.
We cannot change that fact.

Although I sometimes find myself
bearing my own chains, enslaved for my own reasons,

I have been allowed to walk free.
I cannot understand this. Life is not fair.

I have been given a life outside the walls,
and I hurt to know that you see me here

with my fresh fruit and my red balloons
and the laughter of a high swing on a blue-skied day.

I never want my freedom to hurt you, there,
suffering behind stone. But I cannot lock myself with you.

I must live the life I have. I must enjoy my freedom
with gratitude. But I never stop thinking of you,

and my knees wear with prayers when I find
my bloodied fists beat against stone for nothing.

I pray and I love and my heart breaks and I wish
nothing but the best for you. And I live.

Powerless

May 28, 2010

Powerless
Erin Kilmer

Every day I come to your house
not knowing what I will find.

Some days, the doors are flung open.
Some days, all is shut up tight.

Today I see that a wall has grown up
Around your brick-walled house,

And when I peer through the cracks
in the wall I see that the doors are

locked and barred; the windows locked
tight. I can barely see you.

I am helpless to tear down the bricks,
helpless to fling open the doors like

Superwoman coming to the rescue,
saving the day with well-chosen words

and a blast of humorous irony.
I am no superwoman. She is not what you need anyway.

You are so alone in there. I can tell.
I try to be your comfort, your lifeline.

But my words seem so trite and useless
when I realize your chains and your prison.

I bang on the wall till my fists bloody
from its rough bricks. The wall is unmoved.

I scream and I cry and I pray and I am
helpless. I can do nothing about this wall,

these locks and bars and curtains pulled tight,
these chains. Nothing. I will bring you soup

and warm bread and fresh fruit.
And I will never ever go away.

When you look through the cracks, I will be here,
outside the wall, loving you. Never doubt it.

Closer

May 12, 2010

Closer
Erin Kilmer

come here
come close
here, near
beside me

you are
too far
come near
‘longside me

walk now
to me
or fly
come to me

don’t be
so far
draw close
run to me

I have
no one
but you
to know me

I need
you here
above
below me

when you
are close
I am
the real me

your love
your smile
just you
can heal me

will you
stay here
always
part of me

come close
come here
right near
and love me

To My Daughter

April 27, 2010

time is a
monster
under your crib
taking you away
a little more
every day.

.

.

.

.

i try to
savor
and most days
i succeed
but i can never
savor enough.

After

April 25, 2010

After
by Erin Kilmer

The freeway
on Friday at five
past midnight
is quiet, not deserted–
headlights behind
tail lights ahead
we share the road
and the night
without jostling
for a lane
or an exit.
We are of the night
tonight
with wet pavement
reflecting
lightning’s electric whip
across the sky ahead
punishing the towers
of clouds only visible
by its flashes of
chastisement.
One exit
one turn
the road is mine alone–
mine and the lightning’s.
I dodge pothole
puddles, turn into
dark driveway.
I am home.