Lucid, Loaded, Explosive mOMent (poem)

Rinsing red lentils,

then jasmine rice.

Milky rivers rush

down the drain.

Red onions hiss and sizzle

in hot

golden 

puddle.

 

Wild female voice and piano keys

bleed tragic fire

and passion, soothing

the invisible open wound 

in my chest.

 

Twelve pounds of baby

strapped to me, 

he begins to cry.

Loud.

 

Peels of thunder gowl 

and burst

with ecstatic flashes

of white light.

Kaleidoscopic sounds

Electric wilderness 

thrash without and

Within.  I stop

to breastfeed.

and cry

extra wet tears.

 

Oblivious husband crumpled 

on adjacent sofa,

he plays chess

with his best friend-

A laptop who gives

no backtalk.  

Spews neither criticism, 

nor demands.

I am

aflood with hunger

for this man’s attention,

Presence.

The more I want, 

the less he gives.

It’s just me and the kids.

And a poetically screaming

sky. 

 

Finally he stops, 

asks me what’s “wrong”.

I hesitate, 

fearing the familiar sting

of his wrath.

But today 

the lid is 

off.  Chaos

Is the effervescent broth

in which the moment

Swims.

 

I’m done, I say

Trying

to communicate, bothering

to care.

It only leaves me pressed

Hard 

against oceanic inner scapes

of ache.

 

Fueled by the storm,

he pours

loud, angry words 

upon the undulating space

between

the US who 

struggle,

rarely succeed

to meet.

 

Exhausted by a year of attack 

and defend games, 

I sing.

With Everything

I AM.

Sing flames rising

from my belly 

they play,

mingle with his rage.

I gaze

into otherworldly, yet

utterly present blue eyes

of the bald tiny man

I embrace.

 

SLAM! 

Goes the front door, 

Rogue wave breaks. 

I snuggle baby 

into his pouch

and finish

cooking dinner.

 

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