the forgettables

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The Forgettables

The big ones get all the glory.
Unforgettable moments,
firsts and lasts and in-betweens.
Never shy, always bold,
as they rearrange every molecule in our being.

But it’s the forgettables that matter.
Sly moments, uninvited and unattended.
They work undercover, acting alone on our behalf.

When the morning sun rises, bearing only light.
Long days that never end, because boring isn’t as bad as it gets.
Scraggly grass and rocky dirt that won’t hold a flower.
Dining with baseball for company instead of each other.
A twenty-minute commute for twenty plus years,
without incident, accident, sometimes not even a song.
All the days my daughters are alive.

The taste of toast, buttered not burnt.
The smell of sunscreen and chlorine, many pool-years ago.
The squirrel in the tree, eyeing me, right now.
The feel of a new notebook, fresh pens and a fine enough idea.
The neighbor boys and basketball noise, outside my window on every ordinary night.

The moment you bring me coffee,
(especially) when I point instead of ask,
and you love me anyway.

The forgettables
quietly, reliably, sincerely
rearranging us,
one tiny molecule at a time.

4.10.17


Like the Hawk
 
I heard a famous poet say
the hawk doesn’t ask who he is,
why he flies or if he should.
He’s just a hawk and does his thing
without question or doubt.
 
So why hesitate and deny
who we are and what we do
to survive this flight of life?
 
Why we love or grieve,
show up ready or stay in bed,
all day and the next?
Is it too soon to pry open
eyes and hearts,
too late to shed sorrow
(and the extra 20 pounds)?
Is it the coward’s way to return
what wasn’t intended
for our beginning and becoming
something new?
Should I get the tattoo (maybe),
buy the good wine (yes),
forgive and forget (perhaps not yet)?
 
Why measure and judge
(ourselves and others)
for being human,
flawed and fabulous?
For living too much or too little,
grounding ourselves in fear?
Is it possible (please say yes)
to accept what is,
and simply soar
when the air is right
where we are?

 

4.7.17

Photo by Kim Tackett, Vashon Island, WA

I’m taking an online writing course called Dive Into Poetry, offered by Jena Schwartz. It’s kind of amazing to discover something you thought you knew, and realize there’s so much more to learn.  You should check it out.

an ode to parts of speech (and parts of myself) I don’t understand

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Unmaking,

unmasking,

retasking,

retaking,

rethinking this business of being an adult.

Undoing,

regluing,

refining,

undermining what came before this part of the book.

A chapter, a page, or a poorly constructed sentence,

tossed with only a few words remaining.

Revoking the small,

redeeming the bold,

waiting impatiently for me to do the work.

Unnerving,

uncomfortable,

unintentionally tripping over the past,

including what may have happened

yesterday afternoon.

Finding my place to stand,

steady,

ready,

resolved.

I am more than the story that arrived

on my doorstep,

without my permission, or a place to sit.

I am a mess, but damn it, a beautiful mess

in a shimmering universe of

glorious messiness.

Forgiving,

forgetting,

listening,

loving,

learning,

cultivating myself through life worth living,

with words, not whispers.

 

 

Words and photo by Kim Tackett, Wicker Park, Chicago.

it’s complicated

He’s right outside my window,
right now, right here.
In the rain, looking for dry spot, under the eaves,
or so I presume.

Wrestling with a blanket, tucking it into his torn jeans
It’s awkward, trying to work and watching him
just trying to be warm.
I wish I had a tarp, or a blanket, or something
more.

I can’t see his face, but I can see
he’s wearing a
leopard skin bra.

It’s complicated.

But it’s cold and wet
and I don’t know
how to reconcile the
community growing
under the freeway with
the life I get to live,

where I ponder
creativity and travel and wine and
if I need a new sofa, or if chairs and better lighting

are good enough.

in other words :: 13 march 2015

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Changes are coming…starting with the rename of the weekly link roundup. It’s going to be In Other Words until I imagine something else. I hope you don’t mind, but naming (and renaming) things is one of my favorite past times.

While I am busy imagining, here are a few fun links to keep you entertained:

Once again, thoughtful words from Erin Loechner at Design for Mankind in Upstream.

Buying these: I survived another meeting that should have been an email ribbons.

Father and son pun food maps, The Funited States of America. Gotta see it to get it.

From Maria Popova, how to stop prioritizing products over people and consumption over creativity.

Hear this: Lulu Miller (NPR Science Reporter) for Creative Mornings (what a combo, eh?). Catapulting Pellets of Chance Into Your Stupid Head.

Have a great weekend, see you on the flip side.