Maybe It's Not PoetryFinally the numbers flow in rhythm across the pagelining up like perfect sonnets,feeding into kaleidoscopic jewel-tone pie chartsrolling as easily off the printeras pretty words out of my penmajestically choreographed and inspiredby the all-seeing and all-knowing godsof the relational database. maybe it's not poetry to youbut it is epic verse to me.
(C)2011 Noreen Braman
Not My Mother's Daughter
a birthday haiku
my years now equal
her total span of living
but I am still here.
(c)2011 Noreen Braman
Reinvention #3Two years from that sharp turnin a road that was rarely straightyet could still lull the most careful driverinto the rocks and gravel on the shoulder.Two years from steering so close to the edgethat daylight blinked under the tiresand sand showered down the embankmentthe wheel muscled into last minute response.Two years that started with smoking brakeson the downhill, desperate hopes for no oncoming trafficsettling at last in the valley of potholesrough driving but at least no more panicjust a bumpy, slow ride on uneven pavement.(c)2011 Noreen Braman
MOTTOLive with an open mind tosee the unseenhear the unheardfeel the unfeltlearn the unlearnedhope the unhopedto open the heart to love.(C)2011 Noreen Braman
BlanketThe measured threads untouched by shearswoven with lovefor the one to come.(C)2011 Noreen Braman
In Search of Lucid DreamingShe wants to know where she will live now,I remind her she is dead.She talks about the sailing shipshe is supposed to boardI tell her she is meant to goI remind her she is dead.Tonight I must grasp her handand hold her in my gazeand ask her to speak plainlyso that we both may rest.(c)2011 Noreen Braman
April 1, 2011April wakes up dizzydream phantoms circlingwet snow slapping the windowvague uneasiness heavy on her chestthe night had not been restful.She goes out in the predawnto where the sun should be risingto relieve battered Marchof a year bathed in chaos.(c)2011 Noreen Braman
