Tea #atozchallenge

Tea

A stream of consciousness

mindful without words

a simple blanket on the throat,

history longer than my own.

I ask of it, to give to me,

each morning,

several times a day-

so for once I bow to it,

and give it these words to say:

thank you 

I love you

D - Diamonds and what matters #atozchallenge

Here is a poem for D- the first word that struck my creative chord was diamond. (Of course I was listening to Paul Simon... See W day from 2015, http://spokenfingers.blogspot.com/2015/04/w-wonder-have-wish-to-know-something-be.html )

Diamonds on the soles of my shoes

magnetic fuel of grateful beauty

I walk atop that which is valued most

by those who estimate me the least.

A rock so hard, by many

is treated like fragile glass

my heart hardens under

the pressure of their eyes

but on my soles, I walk

with my softer brilliance

wrapped around my fingers

R- Raindrops

As I drive in my freshly waxed car

I see these drops, 

Most larger than normal,

Struggling to stay up,

Or stay down,

Only they know. 

One will join the next

Into a community drop

Poised in motion

Hoping to be the one who lasts

In this case loneliness is survival

With too much camaraderie,

Eventually the group succumbs. 

But those that stand firm

In their own voice

Will last the ride

N- when in doubt, write a poem

When something sits right

Stay by its side

Like a friend

Seen seldom in your harried life

Upon rejoining

Time lapsed only in wrinkles

A tessellation viewed from afar 

Is but two or three collapsed colors,

If that,

But steps that take advantage of

Vagueness

Serve to confuse

Beg to decipher

Toe touch your emotions and 

Bear we weight on your 

Instincts

For one is the work of a master

And the other a fraud

Stare not into the pattern

Expecting your clarity

When within you carries 

all the knowing you need

As simple as a friend

Who's smile was never a mystery

A Pit Bull named Blue

I've waited,

Like you,

For someone to understand me

In every day I see everyone who hurt me

In the cold ground I sit on

The callous fence

The duty-bound care taker.

I know how I got here,

Left alone, wandering the streets.

I try not to be bitter, so I just stay quiet 

I am broken, and judged unfairly

It almost makes me want to live up to it all but,

I'm better than that.

I'm just waiting for someone to see it too.

I know you see the down turn of my smile

But don't fear my temperament,

For that is just the way my mom's turned too

And my jaw is strong, I know

But that came to me through evolution,

Just like your thumbs,

Your Achilles

Don't fault me for my history

But don't you see my eyes?

I try to share what's left of my soul through them.

A young women came to see me and the others,

And I know she knew.

She let me smell her fingers and the way she smiled at me, she knew.

I stood so nicely and made eye contact so she could take my picture.

But still, 

I know she won't take me home,

She just looked too nice, too clean.

I'd never fit in with her.

I'd mess up somehow

And I know she'd be too responsible to accept any threats.

I sat so calmly

I dispelled my demons and gave her the best smile my downturned mouth could muster.

I saw her move on down the row.

Those silly nuts,

Jumping and barking

Catching their feces in their paws...

She won't take y'all either.

So foolish! 

They think the more conspicuous they make themselves the more attention they'll get.

The more noise, the more she'll notice. 

But guess what,

After she went down the line, she came right back to me.

She kneeled down eye to eye and started to talk to me. Just me.

I saw her eyes go moist,

And she said, "I'm sorry."

I don't know why, 

She has nothing to be sorry for,

Not even the intangible pain of false hope.

She looked at me like she knew me and who I was,

And I, in turn

Looked back, and I knew who she was. I could tell, in her eyes.

It was like that unrequited love,

We may have been best friends but in the same acknowledged moment,

We knew we wouldn't.

Another good one gone.

I wish I could speak.

I'd tell them I'm not a bad dog.

I'm not like the bad stereotypes say I am.

Yeah, I've seen some stuff,

I've been hurt,

But all I want is someone to love me wholly from paw to flopping ear.

And I'd be so good to them! I'd try so hard!

Man, I really think I could do it!

I want to be accepted as a pit bull,

It's who I am,

But for how I carry my self as such.

For how, despite presumed destiny, risk, generalizations, fear...

That I am a good dog,

And I am worth it.