Apathy

Apathy is a disease
Spreads swiftly, surely
Fills those around with the contagion

Left unchecked it seizes
Causes the heart and mind to atrophy
Spreads til all is encompassed

Spreads until a hardened shell
Til nothing is left and it’s too late

© 2008 Denise Belinda McDonald

Hudson Flotsam

A flash fiction piece by Denise Belinda McDonald

“I just know you’re gonna get us in trouble,” Carl grumbled when Hank did nothing more than peer over the edge of the large trawler. “He was always a hot one,” he told the dog at his side.

“Go wide and I’ll try to snag it.”

“It’s just flotsam, Hank, leave it.” Carl shook his head and mumbled under his breath, “This boat’s not meant to go wide.” He turned the wheel of the trawler anyway.

“Almost got it.” Hank leaned precariously close to the edge.

“Doober, back off before you drop Hank in the Hudson. Stupid dog.” Carl gritted his teeth then yelled at Hank again, “I said you’re gonna get us in trouble. We’re not supposed to be here, you know.”

“Hush it.” Hank’s pole dipped once again. “Got it. Woohoo.”

“What is it?”

“Looks like…” the man eyed the small piece of fabric on the end of the pole, “women’s underwear. Antique. From 1903. Cost about three-hundred bucks.”

“How in the hell do you know that?” Carl started to laugh until he saw the look on his friend’s face.

Hank grabbed at the fabric and shoved in his pocket. “‘Cause that’s what Louisa was wearing the other night when I tossed her in.”

Happy Christmas Day

Early one Christmas morn
Four little boys snuck out of bed
They hope to find a bunch of toys
Left for them by Santa in red

The first little boy found a ball
This is mine, he stood and said
He bounced it, tossed it and rolled it
And thunked it off his brother’s head

The second little boy found a truck
He vroomed all around the floor
Spun the wheels ever so quickly
And drove the large truck out the door

The third little boy found a toy soldier
He fought a battle and waged a war
He hugged the toy tight to his chest
And thought of his Grampa Moore

The fourth little boy found a dog
It yipped and yapped in glee
The boy told his brothers what he found
And they all came over to see

They dubbed the pup Tinsel
As he shoved his head in the tree
The boys shouted and hooted
And each said, that doggie is for me

Mom and Dad stood back
And watched their children play
The boys all had huge smiles
And were so very happy and gay

Dad wrapped his arm around Mom
Said Santa emptied his sleigh
They gave it each other a hug
And said, Happy Christmas day

© Denise McDonald 11/22/06

AM

Morning clouds part

The dawn of possibilities burgeons

Heart takes flight

Inhibitions fly away

Hope survives another day

Death in Suburbia

Drowned in car pool

Fried in bake sale

Shishkabobbed in PTA meeting

Soccer mom leaves cuts and bruises

Den leader lost in the woods

mo-om - called far too frequent

Somehow became a four letter word

Keeping up with the Jones

Wears you out

Status quo, death knell

never enough

why am I never enough
I can't make you see
what I'm willing to be
You just brush me aside and move on

why aren't I enough to fill you
I give all that I can
by happen or plan
You turn and won't give me a chance

You look through not at
as I want to show
let my heart just flow
Yet still it's never enough

Was Gonna....

‘Was gonna’
Is like the plague
It rolls in and
Eats good intentions

Makes
‘It’s the thought that counts’
A pale substitute
For the real thing

Gives
A gracious cop-out
To those
Who never really would have

When

The being weakens
The name a memory
When left alone too long

The heart cries
The soul withers
When no one cares

The spirit ceases
The essence dissipates
When all is forgotten

Motherhood

Motherhood is a precarious job, with a dubious title
In one day, one afternoon, or even one hour your hat changes
You may be nurse-healer, comforter, mediator, police, protector, chef and maid
All of which are expected in split second transformation.

Motherhood is a job whose rewards are hidden but more satisfying than imaginable
Thanks come not from perfunctory accolades but in smiles, hugs and giggles
A role to embrace whether born of skin or heart
A proud badge to be worn reverently

Bested

No matter what you do
How hard you try
There’s always someone
Better

No matter why you push
What has you driven
There’s always someone
Superior

nowhere

You say you care
Falsehood
You’re my friend
Perjure yourself

Selfish
Inconsiderate
Full of lies
They abound

You speak
No truths
You lead
To nowhere

Who…

Who do you turn to?
Who do you talk to?
When no one listens.

Who hears your cries?
Or your ardent fears?
When you are all alone.

Who holds your hand?
Gives you needed strength?
When you don’t exist.

Who mourns you?
Extols your memory?
When you never were.


Copyright © 2006 Denise Belinda McDonald

What about me?

When is it my turn
To shine in the sun
When do I
Get to come first

Do I always have to be last
Put everyone else ahead
Be a shadow
And not the one looked to

Where is my identity
Is it solely wrapped up in others
Not one of its own
A mere speck in a collective eye


Copyright © 2006 Denise Belinda McDonald

Make Me

You can’t make me
You can try
You can push
Or even beg me

But you can’t make me

You can show me
You can tell
Try to convince
Or pursued me

But you can’t make me

You might hurt me
You can torture
Confuse or baffle
Or even break me

But you can’t make me

Copyright © 2006 Denise Belinda McDonald

Goodbye friend

To lose a friend so dear
Though you know the time is near
A heart that aches
And eventually breaks
The tears come tumbling down

Cherish the memories close to you
Pull them out and put on view
When you need a moment to recall
Review good, bad, glad and all
And still in tears you’ll drown

Copyright © 2006 Denise Belinda McDonald

Walk Away

If you can just walk away
Turn and leave without so much as a glance
Go through that door and never look back
I say good riddance and good bye

If you can leave after the history shared
Forget the past and the present
Forsake the future
Go as fast as you can

Walk away.

Copyright © 2006 Denise Belinda McDonald

Why

Why does it matter what you think
Why do I care
Your opinion should mean nothing
But it does

You cut me,
I cry
You slight me,
I beat myself up

But why does it count
Why do you have this power
How do I take it back
Can I even try

Copyright ©2006 Denise Belinda McDonald

Relentless

Relentless is the search everyone goes on from the day of birth.
What purpose does life serve?
What does one gain?
There is supposed to be an ultimate goal everyone is to reach.
But who’s to say what the goal is or when one is to reach it?
All a person’s life is, is trying to please other people not themselves.


copyright © 2006 Denise Belinda McDonald

The Pain Within

My heart is aching
Trying to do what is right
But if it hurts so much
How can it be right?

Why do I feel like my heart,
Has been ripped from my chest?
Will I get over this pain?
How long will it take?

Can I forget the joy we shared?
But I can’t forget the pain
Do I really want to let go of the pain
Make my heart whole again

But I can’t accept that.
I need to accept that
But I don’t want to
What can I do?

Copyright ©2006 Denise Belinda McDonald

JFK Jr. Lost

We watched the television with hopeful disbelief
Then we watched with a greater saddened grief
To lose a family so vital and strong
Now sent back to the waters' belong

We wept and cried for the young man's dad
Now we weep for the loss of the lad
Forever in memory they will stay alive
Their ambition and strength we hope to strive

He died not alone, but with his small family aboard
They all touched the heart of the nation he adored
Go swiftly to your places in the heaven so blue
And be the watchers of us, as we were to you

Copyright © 2006 Denise Belinda McDonald