© 2014 Laura Freeman All Rights Reserved
Within my home, there exists a place
Where quietly slows life's chaotic pace
A place that brings me great tranquility
When I lose myself in creativity
Peace overwhelms me with her calming grace
As I cut and paste in my crafting space
Or when I write my stories, and lose the race
Lost in the fiction that lulls with reverie
Within my home there exists a place
If imagination has no space
To blossom and create such grand beauty
A room with no walls for my children and me
Where quietly slows life's chaotic pace
Within my home there exists a place
-Laura Freeman-
April 21, 2014
To Our Children We Bequeath
Listen children to the story I share,
Pay attention as I tell you my tale,
We've entrusted you with the task to repair,
What we've abysmally failed.
The earth was ours for the taking,
The fruits of her garden were grand,
Once rich with life in the making,
Unspoiled and pristine was the land.
Children, are you listening to me?
This is important, take heed,
Take a breath and a moment to see,
We have to stop all this greed.
The planet used to be healthy,
Lush, green and freely growing.
We harvested her and grew wealthy,
Reaped the rewards she was sowing.
But, alas, we took her for granted,
Grew self assured and arrogant,
We developed more than we planted,
Ignored the dire warnings she sent,
Filled her air with soot and debris,
Culled her species to extinction,
Poured our waste products into her seas,
Children, I speak with distinction.
Its unfair, to be sure, what we ask,
Your generation has debts to be paid,
We bequeath you the challenging task,
To clean up the mess that we made.
-Laura Freeman-
April 22, 2014
Who liked to create art out of doors,
They took sidewalk chalk,
And marked up the walk,
Which was preferable than marking the floor.
-Laura Freeman-
April 23, 2014
Watch and Learn
The mirror is my enemy, it reflects,
An aging woman where once a girl stood,
Flabby and greying, the image infects,
And they watch and they learn, as they know they should.
"I can't eat that," I say, "it's not on my plan."
They nod in agreement and take it in.
I poke at my stomach, adjust my waistband,
Count calories by day and by night I binge.
So many flaws, and so much to detest,
A constant struggle to love what I see,
To ensure the generational bequest,
Is what I want them to inherit from me.
I need to see beauty, regardless my size,
When I see myself through my daughters' eyes.
-Laura Freeman-
April 24, 2014
I stared at the screen, my brain in a haze,
It's easy, they'd said, it's online these days!
Error, Error, Error
Just fill in a few details, point and click,
But when I try it, I'm missing a trick.
Error, Error, Error
Login failed... do a password reset,
A jumble of numbers and letters, and yet...
Error, Error, Error
What? I'm sure that's the password, that's got to be it!
I just finished resetting, you piece of shit!
Error, Error, Error
Now the wheel keeps endlessly spinning,
The webpage is frozen, the computer is winning!
Error, Error, Error
Information is missing? Are you kidding me?
What field did I miss? Why are you screwing with me?
Error, Error, Error
Email support then wait days for a useless reply,
Or go back to the office and tear a strip off the guy!
Error, Error, Error
Aah, customer service, in English, back in the day,
Meant speaking to someone who knew what to say
Error, Error, Error
Now everything is online and the assumption is that,
Wifi is in every house and in every flat
Error, Error, Error
Instead of standing in line for the next available clerk
I sit on my phone, at my screen, like a jerk!
Error, Error, Error
Technology is the way of the future? Bullshit!
Oh, how I miss carbon paper in triplicate!
Laura Freeman
April 25, 2014
April Showers
The air stagnates, heavy before the rain,
Dark crowds roll in obscuring my vision,
Of the sun, so welcome in April morn.
I find myself wishing for light again
And we scurry to complete our mission
Intent to beat out the impending storm.
Before the clouds release on us their wrath,
Swirling, and gathering; We quicken our pace,
And race for home taking the shortest path,
A spring walk cut short; Droplets tease my face,
Before the rain.
Laura Freeman
April 26, 2014
We watched tv in black and white,
Cartoons on Saturday morning,
And occasionally Disney
On Sunday night.
When I was your age,
I knew how to dial a phone,
And I had my conversations
Attached to the wall,
Not wandering cordless through the home.
When I was your age,
My teacher wrote with chalk,
And when we wanted to chat
With one another,
We actually had to talk.
When I was your age,
My running shoes had laces,
My bicycle had three speeds,
And we didn't own a helmet,
To protect our precious faces.
When I was your age,
We passed notes folded elaborately,
Skyping was a thing of science fiction,
And my pen pal
Actually wrote to me.
When I was your age,
Tweeting was something
Only birds would know,
A face book was my High School year book,
And pinning was something
You did before you sew.
When I was your age,
There were prizes in our cereal,
Restaurants were for special treats,
And we washed with ordinary soap
Not labelled anti-bacterial.
When I was your age,
I had to pay a quarter
To use a phone that wasn't mine,
But heck, it could have been worse,
Your father had a party line!
When I was your age,
Thirty seven was practically geriatric,
I never imagined youth would leave me,
And that Father Time would play
This rather dirty trick.
When I was your age,
Life was a little less convenient,
And yet we still survived.
I used to dream about the wonders of the future,
And, my children, that future has arrived!
-Laura Freeman-
April 27, 2014
Today on Facebook
No one announced their pregnancy
Or bad-mouthed their boyfriend
No one posted a funny quip
about their children's quirkiness,
Or slung offensive thoughts
About abortion or gay rights.
Instead, I learned that:
Your chocolate shell is a vessel
In search of music
To my fetal family,
Celebrate
Pickled ram testicles
Does anyone else's skin crawl?
This has got to stop,
It's only been twenty-four years
For a long time
I didn't even notice.
Blame your sister!
I always enjoy those afternoons
Supported instead of judged.
Time to get a move on'
Love is louder.
If you want to interrupt, feel free,
What's the worst that can happen?
It was a slow day on my wall.
Time to socialize with real people.
Alas, they're all sitting front of their screens
Knackered now
From their status updates!
-Laura Freeman-
April 28, 2014
A Tanka
Today's prompt scares me
Twenty challenges, one poem
No one can do that
At least not without more time
Tonight I would rather sleep.
... aww, what the hell, I'll give it a whirl...
I'm a little too tired tonight to attempt the prompt:
Sleep is an elusive mistress
I haven't slept in eighteen days
My bed beckons, it smells of fresh laundry
It is soft, colourful, tastes like lint, and rustles
The blankets smell blue and fuzzy.
Laura doesn't understand synesthesia
When she's in Vanderhoof
Last night while I slept,
I dreamed that I was flying
I'm flying to Newfoundland in July
For a wedding
I am practicing my Newfinese
If I'm not well versed in the local slang,
The lobster won't taste as sweet
And I won't be able to wish the newlyweds
A hearty "Long may your jib draw."
The province, it beckons with its
Salty air of friendship
I had to google abstract noun
on my typewriter
Which I immediately dismantled
and put back together in
alphabetical order
Mommy doesn't have a nickname,
Just a title.
Mommy will be amazed by all the sights that
She will see in Newfoundland
The land surrounded by the
Uncoordinated Atlantic
C'est la vie
While the airplane laughs in the sky
And I sleep.
-Laura Freeman-
April 29th
A Farewell to April
It is difficult word to say
When one must summon an honest farewell
Farewell to April, welcome sweet May
It does not pay to consistently dwell
On the sodden grass and cool damp air
When one must summon an honest farewell
April rolls out quietly, brown and bare
Signs of life emerge, so tentative
On the sodden grass and cool damp air
The birds return and the flowers live
As the month comes to a final close
Signs of life emerge, so tentative
There's poetry in spring, sweeter than prose
Ceasing with the last of winter's remains
As the month comes to a final close
Farewell dank earth, farewell melting rains
It is a difficult word to say
Ceasing with the last of winter's remains
Farewell to April, welcome sweet May
-Laura Freeman-
April 30, 2014
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