Questions My Children Ask – a prose poem

Since April is National Poetry Month, I couldn’t let the month pass without sharing one of my new creations and loves–a prose poem. Here is one I wrote this spring:

Questions My Children Ask

When can I have an allowance? Will you unlock the computer so I can play? How come you get to be on your phone whenever you want but I have a timer on the iPad? Do you listen to me when I talk to you? What did I just say?

Can we get clothes from a real store and not a thrift shop? How do these jeans look? Are my thighs too big? Should I wear my cream Uggs or my black Converse? Or could you get me some Dr. Martens? Can I cut my hair? Highlight it? Dye it purple?

Why do you make this gross food for dinner? Don’t you know we hate lasagna? Asparagus, again? What is this green stuff? Peas or peppers? Why is it good for me to eat food I don’t like? I’m going to go play with Cain, okay?

Can we have a dance party? A game night? A movie night with popcorn? Will you make French fries again? Sweet chicky nuggets? Cheese pizza?

Will you read Corduroy to me? Skippyjon Jones? Tuck me in? Kiss me goodnight? Can we cuddle? Will you stay with me? What does “especially” mean?

Why do I feel like this —blech one moment, ecstatic the next? Am I just hormonal? Did you feel like this when you were my age?

Is this normal? Am I normal? What does sex feel like?

Why did you marry Dad? Do you still love him, even when you fight?

They cut her whole breast off? What does she look like now? Will she lose her hair? Will she die?

Will you die? Will I?

How do you know everything will be okay?

Young Again

When I die, will you paint me
Young again…?

Eyes set forward, without tears for Ethan’s cancer at age six (he was here oh-so-briefly)
Brow long and high, not with wrinkles borne of worry for
Kaitlin’s solo, Jonathan’s baseball championship, and later
Kaitlin’s failing marriage, Jonathan’s lost job, and even later
Burying Jim after thirty-six years of happily and not-so-happily
Married life?

Will you paint me innocent? Free from fear?

Yet I look in the mirror at my
aged face,
tired eyes,
wrinkled hands…
Hands once delicately fingering a piano, rolling a cookie, painting a homecoming poster
And I wonder
If each mark of age represents an
unspoken experience,
valuable wisdom,
immeasurable compassion,
Would I trade it all back for a young face, thick hair, and soft hands?

-Karin Salisbury


photo credit

After All

Street lamps burn white holes into
The darkest of night’s skies.
People still walk
Along the paved grey concrete stripes
Past shops that closed hours (or days) ago
Past squares of green and colors
Past homeless artists up past their bedtimes
They are singing songs that were popular decades ago….
Young couples share their first kisses, while
More seasoned couples smile to remember, and
Musicians wander the streets
Along with starving writers
Searching for inspiration, for a voice
One decides that we are all searching for
Something–for meaning
In a senseless world
–for beauty
Where aesthetics are lost
–for emotion
In a land of stoicism
A poet weeps
Barely standing in the shadow
Of a street light
Yet he emits his own light
Through his learning and observations

And so the evening isn’t a loss after all.

–Karin Salisbury


photo credit

Happy National Poetry Month

Honestly, I’ve been ready for April since the beginning of March (though March was a fabulous month by itself)…I’ve been anxious for warmer temps, Spring Break, a certain little guy’s birthday, and National Poetry Month!!!! (For some NPM FAQs, click here.)

Hooray for APRIL!!!

If you celebrate April Fool’s Day, I wish you well in that endeavor also. 🙂

 April Fool’s Day 2014 Clipart Photos and Images

photo credit

This month on the blog, I am planning to share some blast from the past poetry by yours truly (I haven’t written poetry in what feels like ages since I’ve gotten really serious about fiction writing) along with some of my fav poems or info on poets I enjoy reading.

And, I’m looking forward to some Spoken Word (or Performance) Poetry, as well (Sarah Kay, anyone?)…so, Happy National Poetry Month!!!! I hope you will help me celebrate April in some way. 🙂 Do you have favorite poets? Have you been to a poetry reading or slam? Do you love poetry like I do?

The Me You See

You’ll have to forgive the cheesy rhyming nature of the lines below (I beg of you, please). This topic is one I have given a great deal of thought, and after yesterday’s post, I had to get it down in word form (April is National Poetry Month, after all). Pardon me, also, for making the topic a little lighter with the rhyming nature…I guess I’m not exactly ready to deal with it seriously yet. Here you go!

Please acquaint me with the me you see.
I have such trouble sensing my own beauty.
Could it just be modesty?
Or denying myself the pure ecstasy
Of knowing who I could really be?

Let’s have a chat, just you and me
I’ll buy the scones, you bring the tea,
And we’ll sit on a balcony
And I’ll introduce you as you introduce me
To the joy of each other’s me we see.

I wonder if you could take the time this week (or during the rest of this blessed month of April) to help someone see themselves the way you see them, without his or her own self-criticism seeping through every thought. Could you write a letter? Send an email? FB message? Tweet? Or blog post? I will do the same. Decide today…before an upcoming (maybe tomorrow?) post when I have another invitation to offer! If you will join me, please share in the comments (or at least like this post) and follow-up after you have completed your intention. I’d love to hear what you decided to do and how it went!
🙂