Swing In A Tree: 2023-04-09

Saturday, April 15, 2023

"Lizard Brain"

A clear objective—survival
Tuck head down and traipse through desert sands—
  An Arrakis boiling with religious certitudes,
ancient political nuances
Multitudinous paths leading to destruction
Ignore the razor winds that slice through reason
And only hone instinct
Survive
Clutch the knife of insanity in your righteous fist
Rip into the enemy’s flesh
Retaliate—an eye for an eye—until all are blind
Blades become bombs
Homes reduce to rubble housing mutilated families
Logic stumbles through the wreckage
And gets lost in the stench of decay
Becomes overburdened and overrun by molecular rage—
  (Passed down from evangelist to fanatic
   to zealot to extremist)
Until it dries up and dies

"Dental Floss"

Cheap dental floss
—not the desired brand—
            Frays
            Leaves strands
                        trapped
Frustrated before sunrise
            I fling the new container aside—
                        thumping it into the trash
                        announcing my irritation
Temper flames my words,
            “We had an entire conversation about this!”
Feeling trivialized and minimized
            I cut to make him smaller
And I braid those fine wax fibers
            into Porter’s rope
                        Giving it weight—
                                    Importance
Until
            my snarling reflection
            snaps me to The Big Picture
It is—
            after all—
Only dental floss

"Class of . . ."

Too lost to care

Too stunted to share

Too lazy to learn

Too drugged to yearn

Too behind to hope

Too bitter to cope

Too angry to grow

Too blocked to know

Too starved to thrive

Too damaged to strive

"The Second Year"

Two years

Cramming days so full

That exhaustion tumbles me into bed each night

Drawing old friends into my orbit

As I spin, spin, spin

And throw-off grief and loss

I pull on your fuzzy blue robe

And snuggle into your warmth

Comforted

Memory lets me linger with your laughter

Takes my hand and leads me to your crooked smile

Tugs me out of those months of shadow and spills me into sunshine

I speak of you, your battle, and the years of care

Without weeping

Softness swaddles my sadness

Sorrow defines the second year

Friday, April 14, 2023

"Chameleons"

A willow woman

With spiked heels and sassy stride

And contagious laugh that lured me into her life with playful words

Commonalities wove us into an easy friendship

Same wine, same music, same world view

Until . . .

He entered

And her eyes followed him, hypnotized

And her loneliness compelled her to

Cling to his words

Cloak herself in self-deception

As she became his shadow and lost all substance

A tenacious terrier

With body honed to steel

And wit weapon sharp and deadly

She voraciously fed upon change

An adrenaline junkie

Smart enough to carve her place

Determined to succeed

A warrior mother fighting through heartbreak and disappointment

Our friendship a braid of Time, Triumph, Travails

Everlasting

Until . . .

He entered

And she drew into his orbit

And her loneliness compelled her to

Dream his dreams

Attach herself tightly to him

As she severed all other ties

Years from now

Confusion and Disbelief

Will mingle with their tears as they lament,

“He’s gone. He’s gone.

I became what he wanted, who he wanted.

But it wasn’t enough.”

And they’ll be shadows without substance tethered to no one.

David Chapman-artist

"Everyone Lies"

She kneels before an all forgiving God

a supplicant asking for mercy

“Bless us, O Lord, for I have sinned”

sighs through her parted lips

A conniving bitch

manipulating

to get ahead

to break even

to fall in love

Her hair veils her face

light and shadow finger her expression

hollow out her downcast eyes

highlight the planes of her pale cheekbones

She prays for redemption and the strength to change

for God’s hand to guide her onto another path

But people don’t change

Her disease seeps into her joints like lupus

spreads through her organs

invades every cell

infects her life and world

So the tears shed before her Lord

David Chapman-artist

water and nourish nothing

Her vows of commitment to convert

remain unheard

by her God

For she’s forgotten her Golden Rule—

Everyone lies

"Child Play"

The morning song of child play

Tumbles over the fence

Harmonizing with cardinal and dove

Carrying respite from responsibilities

Whoops and hoots

Clamor and compete with wind song

Until insistent whistles whine

Heralding rules and regulations

Summoning silence and structure

As frolic and mayhem

Form a straight line to the left

Subdued for only a few seconds

Until a few notes ring and ripple

Surreptitious shoves

Dissolve into dancing feet

While laughter escapes around pressed lips

And control capitulates to

Child’s play

"The Stream"

The stream of people flowed

in and out of museums

up and down hundreds of marbled steps

Laughing loudly,

children dashing around the Mall

Vendors with ice cones,

lemonade, chips and pretzels

We flowed with the stream

hot and tired

from walking all day

Our voices rose on the summer’s breeze

happy, vibrant, alive

Then we came to The Wall

with mirrored surface

and name after name after name

after name

The stream slowed

it ebbed

Voices hushed to soft whispers

butterfly touches

caressing the carved names

We stood,

fingers woven together

searching through our reflected images

for another reflection

The stream stopped

losing its motion

it shimmered in the silent

deep pools

Our heads bowed

we sighed

Our breath caused motion

and the stream trickled

onward

slowly

It flowed past the wall

and spilled onto a

grassy area

where past and present

water the future

"Forgive and Forget"

Over time, the walls of self-defense become chinked with wear
Overgrown by ivy, flowering each spring with climbing roses,
The origins for brick and mortar fade in memory
The enemy’s conniving and manipulation forgotten with each passing season
Over time, the story of the their cruelty mutates
Into a softer narrative of the human frailty found within their souls
And the need to forgive and forget their heartless and vindictive natures
Grows because I must repair my damaged spirit
Over time, the protective barriers seem superfluous
My internal longings to belong create false hope
That “this time” will prove different—better
That somehow they’ve gentled with time
Foolish me—to pull down the walls, to retell the tale
To desire their love
Foolish me—to provide them opportunity, to crush me
Under the weight of my forgiveness

Thursday, April 13, 2023

"My Obsession"

I awoke to silky rain.

No thunderous clouds boiling the morning skies,
nor fists of lightning pounding the heavens.

Just cool, smooth drops that gather on leaves,

pool together with a common goal,

and stream down to heal.
To nurture.
Scarce and valuable,
this liqueur makes me giddy.
Sheltering my lens,
I dodge under the trees.
My determined heart longing,
longing to capture
to record
to preserve this memory.

"In a Perfect World"

In a perfect world

we wrap our children within love, beauty, and grace

the fear

of heavy hands or words that scorch

of empty stomachs and lonely nights

of filth and destitution

slayed

In a perfect world

we protect the Mother

the rape

of forest and field

of streams and oceans

of mountain peaks and sloping valleys

eradicated

In a perfect world

we honor knowledge by encouraging free thought

the condemnation

of different traditions

of diversity in truths

of multiplicity of dreams

abolished

In a perfect world . . .

"A Bully"

“If you don’t like the real world, invent your own.” Rachel Maddow, October 5, 2012.

A bully

Hands clenched

Chin thrust

Legs spread wide

A stance ready for assault

Pummeling reason with illogical fists

Blow after blow

Lie after lie

Kicking the fallen

Feeding off of fear

"Broken"

Her faith folds within itself

foiling logic and reason

forcing her piety into an angry righteousness

that denies mercy

She subjugates choice

without question
believing in ritual and prayer—
the indoctrination of her birthright

She kneels with head bowed

invoking wrath against diversity
and shielding her world view
from contradiction

Her devotion condemns

self-determination
as she binds free will
with intolerance

She rejects all
except The One True Path
and distorts deviation into despair
and damnation

Minoan Priestess by David Chapman

Wednesday, April 12, 2023

"Haikus with Rules"

David Chapman-artist

Daughter, Mother, Wife,

Sister, Friend—a collection

of masks worn daily

Imagination

renews me like Dawn’s fresh breath

Inhale, Exhale—ahhhh

I am a cynic
words on the tip of my tongue
sharp as a razor

We dream together

our interwoven fibers
clothe and protect us

No fairness in Life

Just Fate and Chaos dancing

Among Night’s shadows

Constantly caring
Silently sublimating
self—piling regrets

Distilling my thoughts
Into crystal drops of Truth—
I write, write, write, write

"In The Morning"

In the morning

before I open my eyes

I listen for her breath
for sounds of her movement
for her voice calling

In the morning

before the alarm’s irritating bleat

I open my eyes to darkness
seeing no soft light filtering from the kitchen

hearing no sounds for preparing First Breakfast

In the morning

before I leave the warmth of quilts

I pull clichés onto my psyche
covering up my doubts

with comforting words and phrases

In the morning

before I build my protective walls

I grieve
the endless day free of responsibilities saddens me
and sorrowful hours loom ahead