More Less

I need to write more poems again.
I miss the way my brain worked then.
I also need to play more songs,
design more websites, right more wrongs,
find more clients, make more cash,
do more with my craft-stuff stash,
speak more Spanish, read more books,
spend time proving I can cook,
make more friends, call friends more,
do more with my Etsy store,
give my toddler more of me,
be the best that I can be,
yes, the very, very best–
okay, so what should I do less?

Know

Thank you for saying that you don't know.
That's almost all that I needed to know.
It's as important as knowing the answer– you know?

Teach

Do we indoctrinate? Or preach?

Or just empower, guide, and reach?

And do we brainwash when we teach?

If so, then should we end all speech?

To Make You Get Your Story Straight

There is nothing like your very own child to make you get your story straight.
Those questions towards the base of your brain awake when they would rather wait.
The whole world asks these questions, clamoring to make their answers known.
And suddenly you have to answer when they're asked by one you call your own.

My Sister

Now my sister's all grown up.
 That is, she's graduated.
  But if she still finds more to learn,
   well, I guess we are related.

In These Two Weeks

In these two weeks since I have written,
the first warm days of spring have come,
and we have spent no little time
making up for lack of sun.
And we have talked until we've found
where our sameness ends
and then we've talked until we've found
a way to still be friends.
And I have pushed the stroller fast
for miles on the trail
and we've come home, sat on the step
and sorted through the mail.
And then we pruned the apple tree
which had been getting thick
and you reached out too far to lop
one more superflous stick
and that is when the ladder fell
and so, of course, did you.
I rushed you to the doctor
just like when you had the flu
except this time your eyes were rolling
back into your head
because your pinky snapped in two.
I'm glad that you weren't dead.
And now you have some little screws
holding the bone together
and a blocky splint to wear
in this nice springy weather.
And our baby took several steps
until she stopped and saw
she was too far up off the ground
so she dropped down and crawled.
And I made logos and labels and emails
and you made calculations
and tips and wages to put in the bank
to save for a downpayment.
Our seedling have sprawled across my desk
and into pots on the floor.
I am surprised how much they've grown
but maybe we've grown more.

By the Time I Am Done

I'm on page eleven of a four-hundred-and-fifty-five page book, and three of the pages I had to read again.
I'm sure I'll have learned a lot by the time I am done but what I really want to know is– when?

Wouldn't you like to know?

There's lots of things I'd like to know.
There's books and books and books
and articles on the internet.
Like how to grow and cook
the most nutritious herbs,
the conjugations of five hundred
common Spanish verbs.
I'd like to know more history.
I'd like to learn some Greek.
I wouldn't mind knowing every
language people speak.
I'd learn how to lay carpet
or how to sew a suture.
But most of all I'd like to know
more about my future.

Daddy's Back

The baby is happy
she's on daddy's back.
She's playing pretend
and she's a backpack.
She's watching him work.
She's learning a lot.
She's on daddy's back,
one of her favorite spots.

About Design

My husband says, "Write a poem about design."
And he's right. That's what's been on my mind.
The reason I haven't written poems this past week
is I've had a dozen vector graphics that I had to tweak.
It's amazing what some points, some lines, some colors in between
have the strength to say. How much they can mean.
And how much there is to learn when each mistake's a class
and the notebook is my brain and I have to write so fast.

Love to Learn

I try and yearn
and love to learn.
I swear I'll never stop.
With positive greed
I'll read and read.
I hope my head won't pop!

Laundry

This week
the way you grab the clean laundry out of the basket
looks a little more like the way I do it
compared to the way you did it last week
and at this rate
will I ever have to teach you to fold the laundry?
Or will I just
show you and show you?

Opposite Opinions

You'll find opposite opinions on the internet
masquerading as facts. It's a fact.
And when you want to know what's true, what do you do?
Unless you know, you can't relax.
If the internet's too scary, try the public library.
Wind your way back through those stacks.
Find still opposite opinions when you look in the books.
They'll say it's true. It's just a fact.

Foreclosure

I awoke to a loud cold knock at the door.
I had no idea what they were here for.
Hasty and stern, they wanted their money.
I said, "There's no mortgage." They said, "Don't be funny.
Not your home– your brain. Pay for your education!"
I said, "I still am! I'm paying! Be patient!"
They said "It's too late. This is a foreclosure,"
and they opened my brain, commencing the torture.
With scalpels and forceps they started to sort.
I begged them to leave what I'd learned in the dorms
but they took it all– all I'd learned in college.
They scraped out the street smarts and took the book knowledge.
I forgot where I'd traveled, I lost what I'd read,
plus all the connections I'd made in my head.
It was gone, just like that. Those four years of studies
and time spent debating with my college buddies.
Then they closed up my brain. I had nothing to say.
They said with a smile, "Now you don't have to pay!"
Then I really awoke. Twas a dream. It was night.
Tried to go back to sleep, filled with freedom and fright.

Let Me Think

Let me think.
Let me know what you think.
Let me know, let me think that I know
how to go about this.
Then show me how to let go.

Let me see.
Let me wonder again.
Let me try this one more time and then
I'll be done on my own.
Then show me everything you know.