"Dandelion"

   

 
 

A waif whispers incantations 

her breath pftts pftts 

against the blowball 

Tufts float free  

The seeds of beginnings   

Sacred blessings 

Cradled by Tranquility   

 

Copyright 2015 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

 

"No Shame"

  

See this world  
            Revolving around you   
            ‘Cause you’re sooooo SPECIAL?   
                        A Disney Princess   
                                    Twisted on the inside    
                                    By your Hypocrisy 
            Your venomous spittle sprays 
                        And you shout your righteous indignation
                               Against those who sustain you, clothe you,      
                                     nurture you  
You—The Beggar—   
            Who bites up to the elbow   
                        Your ravenous maw congealed with  
                                    the flesh of the hands that feed you  

You carry No Shame  

                        For badgering, and belittling, and bullying  
                 No Shame   
                        For the lives you taint with your poison 
                 No Shame  
                        For the pain you reap  
            ‘Cause you’re sooooo SPECIAL— 
With this world  
            Revolving around you  

 

Copyright 2015 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

 

"Forgiveness"

  

 I wanted to blanket you in gentle warmth,  

            swaddle  you, protect you  

Never dreaming that you suffocated  

            under the weight of my attention  

I longed for you to mirror my heart  

            —mimic my words  

            —morph into my Mini-Me  

And I snipped away your identity  

And shaped you into a paper doll  

            that no one else can love  

When convenient—  

I mended your heartbreaks  

And fought your monsters  

I also shared our intimacies  

            —in gossip  

            stripping you to bare bones  

My love— 

            So wrong in intensity—  

whipped between over-indulgence and neglect  

On and off  

And on again  

            Leaving you heartless  

Copyright 2015 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

 

 

 

"Voiceless"

 

Rain burning on my cheeks like hot angry tears,
Scorching the world with its acid touch.
I brush it aside and wipe away my fears.
I ignore the destruction; I pretend too much.
 
The dank humid air burns me under its weight,
Forcing my mind to heave then implode.
I turn away from petty love; jealous hate.
Fighting against my resurgent need to explode.
 
The Conservative move against conservation
Eroding our lives, our will to live.
“Preserve Wall Street, Big Business, and the Nation!”
Forgetting we need Mother Earth to survive.

Where was my voice when those decisions were made?
Why did I passively shrug and sigh?
The future is now, and it’s melting away.
Our precious planet, once so vibrant, now dies.
 
Copyright 1995 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman
 

"Butterflies and Hummingbirds"

 

 

 

Camera

weighing heavily in hand

 longing for the perfect shot

yearning to capture a butterfly

floating delicately on a flower

holding breath to capture the hummingbird’s faerie flight

balancing luck and patience

focusing life’s lens  

Copyright 2023 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

 

 

 

"Something to Prove"

  

unnatural competition
sibling rivalries created and nurtured
by narcissistic manipulations
the alcoholic mother and enabling father
doling out love to the winners
the challenge evolves
 to plastic wives and drunken children
awards for misogyny and adultery
applause for cheats
 and deceits
victory gained
by zealous clannish unity
that punishes the different drummer
with ostracism and disdain
darkness shadows each generation
with something to prove

 

Copyright 2022 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman  

"Plans and More Plans"

  

overthinking
list making
best case scenarios
worst possible tragedies imagined
journaling predictions for infinite tomorrows
fluctuating daily between certainty and self-doubt
juggling multiple dependent  lives with limited reserves
 
nurturing
visions dreamt
viewpoints expanded outward
selflessly sheltering the weakest
returning to ritual’s comforting grace
strengthening spirit by dancing with fire
embracing obligations with the tenacity of hope

 

Copyright 2022 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

 

 

 

"Isolation Response"

 

            I woke up in the middle of the night with a slight headache and a matching echo of discomfort in my throat. Nothing bad–something I would’ve ignored in the past. With mental sirens sounding loudly, my new response went into hyper speed. Opening the medicine cabinet, I grabbed Mucinex DM and quickly downed a tablet. Scooping up a new box of Vicks and my thermometer I headed to the family room to set up a sleeping area that removed me from the rest of our household. I returned to the bathroom long enough to spray surfaces with Lysol. With my warmest robe and pillows snuck from the bed, I shifted quietly into the other room. In the darkness, I snuck into the kitchen to add to my disinfectant arsenal: more Lysol spray and hand sanitizer. I grabbed a new mask and added two bottles of water, placing everything on the table next to the couch.

            I fell back asleep easily, but upon waking I realized that our household, like many others, no longer can ignore a nighttime onset of a stuffed nose or slight fever. With both the flu and COVID on the rise, symptoms I ignored in the past become warnings to medicate and isolate as soon as possible. I woke up before dawn and found that a normal temperature raised my spirits. The slight headache and sore throat remained as a shadow of the night before. I drank a bottle of water and settled back into sleep.

            For the rest of the day, I wore a mask around my family when they came in to the room. I stayed snoozing on the couch watching disaster movies. I took a second dose of medication even though my symptoms were gone. Waking up this morning with my usual energy level, I’m thankful that whatever ailed me passed within a few hours once a tablet hit my system.

 

Copyright 2025 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

“Silver Lining?”

 

            Our project to remove the pond from the back yard continued with me channeling my “ant” powers. I started by lugging the large flagstones, purchase many years ago and no longer available, over to extend the path from under our Live Oak to our side gate. This gate only opened in one direction, but with carefully placing various flat rocks under its swing, it now moves both ways. That process took four hours one morning as I carefully assembled the puzzle one piece at a time. Gravel, reclaimed from the pond’s interior, added a finished touch to the area.

            The next part of the removal, getting the pond from the ground itself, took my husband’s strength. We decided to break it down into pieces and put back into the hollow to help with filler. At the moment, we’ve dumped three trash cans of leaves from the front yard and another four cans of dead Purple Heart mush. I stomp on the area after each load. Eventually, we’ll top it all with soil and smooth it out. That won’t happen until we’ve done the final rodent proofing along the back wall.

            Yesterday, we moved the fairy statue to the front yard. Four wheelbarrows of rocks allowed us to ring it in an eight that includes the bird bath purchased last summer. Once we’re through our seasonal freezes, I’ll start selecting flowers for this new area.

            With these changes, I try to focus on the silver linings. My front yard, damaged by years of freezes and droughts, will now display one of my favorite statues. Its new location means I’ll cover the area with different types of flowers than the ones out back. The pond, tucked out back for my personal pleasure all of these years, now shifts some of its features into the front for everyone to enjoy.

            We haven’t decided exactly what to do with the area opened up with the pond gone. At the moment, it’s a “maybe this” or “possibly that” flow of creative ideas. Those possibilities, too, provide silver linings for me as we move into this unpredictable year.

 

Copyright 2025 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman    

"Harper Lee and Me"

hour after hour, day after day, year after year    
the cadence of her words     
rose and fell in my classroom  

in Jean Louise’s coveralls  

walking in someone else’s skin   
I meandered through Maycomb’s streets  
treasuring two soap dolls, a broken watch and chain, a pair of 
    good-luck pennies
I led my students  
into that courtroom  
and stood in respect  

and I wept     

every single time  

hour after hour, day after day, year after year  
the cadence of her words  
rose and fell in my classroom  

“What would Atticus do?”  

wove into my discussions  
became a refrain   
became ingrained into who I am as a daughter, as a wife, as a 
                mother  
defined my humanity—   
my Gestalt 
I am a part of all I have met   

and so I wept   

every single time  

hour after hour, day after day, year after year  

the cadence of her words  
rose and fell in my life   

until I became the writer

with a draft of a novel in my desk 
and another tucked upon a closet shelf     
the lives I created guided by conscience      
renderings of myself in stark black and white  
so I understand a watchman  
and crossing time to set things right  

and I wept  

once again  

Copyright 2015 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

 

"Death"

 


She silently slipped into my room
            bringing night’s enveloping velvet blackness
                        in her sunken eyes and raven hair
Her hands reached out for mine
            coaxing me to dance with her
                        along that icy rim of eternity
My head felt heavy upon my pillow
            My arms and legs merged into my bed
                        immobile and leaden
Her breath poisoned the air
            seeping into my lungs with molten heat
                        chilling my blood into a sluggish, frozen river
I turned my eyes away
            staring fixedly into myself
                        Yet she was there
                        Empty and hollow
                        a void—nothing
            and I moved toward her
            even as I moved away
she whispered words I could not hear
            and yet I did her bidding
sobbing for days
            Until my eyes ached red and dry
            and my heart bled into
                        itself
            wracking my body with unreal pain
                        no one but she understood
I fought to escape
            turning to flee
                        with nowhere to go
She stood before me, beside me, behind me
                        within me
Then I heard
            faint and distant
                        a trill of laughter
                                bubbling and rippling through the starless night
            an intermingling of voices
                        high and low—calling my name
                                    giving me direction
                                                away, away
I pulled myself away from her deathly dance
            Yanked myself out of her clutching grasp
                        moved toward the golden sounds
                                    of love and light
She followed me
            she stayed with me
                        now and forever
I sense her presence
know the sound of her footfall
            instinctively sniff the air for her scent
                        careful and cautious
She still wants me
            her pull and determination both suck me into her orbit
                        and repel me with horror
            But those voices of laughter
                        with the eyes of sunlight
                                    and smiling mouths of delight
                        carry a stronger current
They always rescue me
Take me where she cannot reach me
            protect me for a little while
                         . . . love me

Copyright 1999 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

“Rats, a Pond, and Change”

 

            Our never ending battle against roof rats kicked up a solution that I’ve tried to avoid for several years—removing our pond that rests close enough to the house to draw in uninvited guests. When the rodents first appeared, they entered through an extremely small opening by our hot water heater. As time passed, they found other points of entry that always stayed along the back side of our house—near the kitchen and laundry, but also near the pond. At one point, the exterminator suggested that the pond enticed the rats into the area, and their break-in instincts led them into the house. We’ve tried different traps inside the house, including our own more successful live traps. The outside of our house, lined with baited traps by the pond, seemed to work, until this week when we spotted more rat sign in the laundry area.

            Today, I’ll start removing the pond. Draining it won’t take too long as we’ll the fountain pump can clear out the water quickly. Reclaiming the gravel from the interior and edges will take time, and relocating parts of the foliage to different areas of our yard may consume my mornings for a while. I like to think of myself as an ant. If I focus on one part each day, I can shift and move and change.

 

Copyright 2025 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

"Letters to Use as Guides"

 

The recent deluge of Executive Orders issued from President Trump proves his lies about knowing nothing about Project 2025. You may or may not be invested in the goals and beliefs of this document, but you must know that many of the policies within it are currently guiding this Administration. This communication is to remind you of your duties to your constituents. We are only as strong as a nation for the care we give to the weakest—our children, people with a disability, and elderly. No matter what your personal gains and agenda within this current administration, you will be judged by your voters for how well you serve this community.
 
I do not believe that you want to forsake the important role of the Senate that you’ve served faithfully for so many years to participate with an administration whose purpose is to disrupt, dismantle, and destroy the government on a Federal level.
 
I ask that you work together with other Republicans and Democrats to make certain programs currently funded continue. If the school that’s behind my house, currently with 100% of the children on free breakfasts and lunches, suffers from the cruelty of the current policies being pushed into place, you will have failed your job. History has a way of revealing the cowards of each generation. Do you want to be labeled one?

 

Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

Copyright 2025 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

“Overwhelmed”

            Today’s project? I intend to clean the grout around every floor tile in our house. Why? I need to gain control over something that’s specific and concrete. I need to sit on the hard, cold surface and attack it with Bar Keeper’s Friend. I want to mercilessly scrub with my special brush until every inch looks clean and new. I require a massive project that pulls me away from the cruelty pounding upon our doors.  If I spend the day wrapped in a task that has a positive ending, my overwhelming hopelessness will stop hemorrhaging.
            At the keyboard right now, I envision my day. Pulling on old clothing, filling my bucket with nearly scorching water, sprinkling cleanser, scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing until my fingers and knees ache. My attention focused. Honed in onto something totally under my control, I have the luxury of pushing aside the horrors of another Project 2025 day until my personal coping strategies kick in.
            At this very second, uncertainty rides along with me on how I’ll survive four fucking years when one week pulls me down and under.

Copyright 2025 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman    

“My Secret Stash”

            Occasionally, I purchase a special sweet treat to help me withstand various life trials. Last year, one mini-Milky Way sat on my desk in plain sight. Any tribulation that entered my day had to reach a “Sponge Worthy” status before I’d eat this small indulgence. I became Seinfeld’s Elaine, measuring my distress just like she did to before using her favorite birth control. My ultimate goal is to reshape the day’s strain into a manageable tidbit that saved my candy for an even worst calamity.

            My mini-treat, left uneaten, morphed over time into my way of celebrating my resilience. When our old hot water heater died an untimely death, I tacked onto a credit card unexpected debt. Problem solved enough to save the candy for another day. Massive layoffs at my husband’s company should’ve made me devour the bar plus every sugar laden item in our house. Instead, I maintained that the piece stay in place to celebrate not being unemployed. Illnesses and injuries plagued family and friends, but nothing ever comparable to Mom’s Huntington’s disease battle. The measure I used before consuming my Milky Way mini grew with each day I walked away from wolfing it down.

            At year’s end, I indulged myself with the treat.

            Starting this year, I have Milk Duds sitting on my desk. The little yellow box calls attention to itself in a way my demure Milky Way mini never did. Expecting a more turbulent year, I snuck a LifeSavers hard candy storybook in the bin below my desk and hid some Andes’ in the freezer. Yesterday’s news with withdrawing from WHO, trying to destabilize the Fourteenth Amendment, and pardoning those who brutally attacked police officers with the insurrection left me battered enough to raid one roll of my Lifesavers.

            My personal goal to have the Milk Duds sit uneaten on my desk by year’s end may be unreachable, but I’ll give it my best try.  

 

Copyright 2025 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

              

"Snow Day"

 

            San Antonio’s inability to handle snow and ice on bridges and overpasses means a dusting of snow halts the city until temperatures tip above freezing. Yesterday the city stopped for part of the day for less than two inches of snow.  Sleet and ice factor into the decision to shut down. With camera in hand, I document this rare occurrence, capturing the stillness and beauty before it melts away.

 

Copyright 2025 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

Copyright 2025 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

"I Want to Give You the World"

  

 

I want to give you the world 

with its promise    

with its pleasure    

with its plenitude  

I want to give you the world     

without the doubts   

without the debt  

without the desperation    

I want to give you the world  

with its splendor  

with its sunrises 

with its surprises   

I want to give you the world    

without the worry     

without the weaknesses    

without the wantonness  

I want to give you the world   

with its hope    

with its humor     

with its happiness    

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

"Coping inTrumpland?"

 

         I didn’t plan this journey into Trumpland. I didn’t put this nightmare adventure park on my Bucket List of places that I must travel to before I die. Instead, the people around me abducted me. With hands cuffed, feet bound, and mouth duct taped, they forced me to join them.

         I kick and scream and struggle. I resist.

         I don’t want to be here.

        Trumpland feeds fears.

        Trumpland belittles kindness.

         Trumpland strips dignity from its citizens.

         Trumpland operates as a for profit business.

         Trumpland makes up its own rules.

         If I complain, insults thunder over me and drown out my protests.

“Libtard.”

“Stupid Snowflake.”

“Delusional.”

“Communist.”

“Socialist.”

“Mouthy Bitch.”

“Worthless Cunt.”

I respond with phone calls and emails, petitions and protest rallies.

I focus on the one thing I know best—educating those who do not understand. That means I spend hours each day reading, fact checking, and sharing.

I do this because I want to go home.

Copyright 2017 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman