Wednesday, August 7, 2013


Where Flowers Bloom


You bought lilies at the market
on a Sunday
for me.

Closed lilies.

Brought them home, pleased.
I felt the intention of your gesture
to please.

As there, by the sink,
I measured the length of their stems
against that crystal vase
from Tiffany
for our wedding.

Cut them to size,
arranged as I liked.
In spite of their sparseness,
saw their promise.

All that Sunday, I waited and waited.

When I remembered,
I’d take a breath, long and deep
in hopes of that sweet perfume
of our wedding day...
the Newport room.

All I got was the food the kids left
from lunch—
something lewd from the garbage,
nothing at best.

The days progressed.

Each held the hope...
perhaps those lilies you brought me,
to satisfy my sentimental longing
would have opened up
and shown themselves.

Blessed me with their wealth of sensory beauty.
Caressed me with the scent that ties me to you.

Too bad.

A week passed through.
A busy room
passed through
a staggering number of times.

And those stubborn lilies
in that radiant vase
just wouldn’t oblige to open up.

All I’d hoped was that they’d open up.
Hope—
was not enough.

As I made my way over
to pluck those lilies
closed tight as clams—
I glanced
out into the yard.

Yes, that yard I remark needs to be tended to—
and tend you do,
upon request.

And right there,
to my surprise,
pure white in the daylight,
beautiful lilies
open wide.

Those bulbs you planted the year before—
in fertile soil,
far richer than what they sold in the store where you bought the flowers
the Sunday before,
now breathtaking lilies.

Right there in our vase,
they fill this room,
this home,
with your love for me.

Not store bought love…
love placed so well in the ground
it grows roots…
sprouts up and blooms all on its own.

The kind of love one can’t hold
like a store bought trinket
though, somehow,
it grows old
as we do.

It’s a perennial love.
The kind to be relied upon.
It blossoms and withers,
blossoms again.

Each time,
more plentiful,
more fragrant,
more beautiful.

-Jayme

Knee Deep



I have those days, ok?

Like today.

When all I wish,
all I want
is to get away from all of it.

When all I am,
all it feels like I am
is a clown,
a circus act—
20 balls up in the air,
spinning in space,
screaming my name.

My eyes dart back and forth,
up and down
hands flap at breakneck speed.

My core, tight like an iron rod,
So tight.

And, it really feels like
if I skip a beat,
lose sight of a single ball
and it falls to my feet,
I lose…
hand over all I’ve tried to prove.
Admit that I’m not enough
to sail through.

------

It’s more than that, though…

It’s that feeling,
the need to prove that I’m enough
that sends me reeling.
It makes this room fill up
with words and stuff—
calls to make and take.

The tick tock of the clock
stuffs this room up
and up
until it feels like it will break me.

------

How do I live that way?
The ever present pain of
having to prove that I’m worthy,
and then the burden
of keeping it restrained.

It’s that lid,
so tightly shut
while I’m bubbling over.

Especially on a day like today.

------

So, once and for all,
I say, so what?

Rest my softened hands
upon my thighs,
shut my eyes and walk away.

On a day like today,
they’ll just have to take me
as I am…

‘Cause I know, nothing’s gonna break me.

-Jayme