Ménage a trois
In my head, I live
with an ideal husband;
home by five, check in hand,
gourmet cook (vegan, of course),
bouquet of daisies, lover of verse.
He’s tiny, sure (to fit in my head),
but I can’t complain
because he picks up after himself
and never watches TV.
I love a different man than he;
up and down with the tides,
sweet and generous with his time,
too much beer, not enough walk,
favorite of children and dogs.
Though I’ve never introduced them to each other,
the three of us go to movies together,
hold hands at concerts, make pancakes for supper
on Sunday nights and never wonder out loud
if we are actually a foursome….
Whiskey keg echo
Yours is the kind of a voice that flows like smoke
from room to room, no matter where you are
in the house or outside, and no matter
where I am, I can hear it and I know I’m not alone
even if I can’t understand what you’re saying.
I can hear remnants of your voice,
kidnapped from their hiding places
by the gusting wind,
resonating from behind the trees,
from under the deck boards,
from their tangly, twisty camouflage
around the chain that dangles the light
over the kitchen table.
The sounds are not real words at all,
but vibrations in your perfect timber
of whiskey keg echo with just a touch
of mellow wind chime.
And when you’re not here,
and I doze momentarily in my solitude,
I sometimes hear your voice in the hollow of my chest
and though I know I am alone,
I understand perfectly well what you’re saying.
Ode to my infinite self
i have brought myself to the river
and You are there already-
in the sky, in the birds,
in the warm wind and the dry earth.
i have left behind
my structured day
and the need to be
what i think i am.
Instead, i sit at the river
and let it tell me of myself;
senselessly restless, deep and quiet,
changeless, new in every moment.
i continue, unstoppable,
full of questions
that need no answers,
answers that need no belief.
i close my eyes at the river
and You are still there.
i silence my thoughts at the river
and You are still there.
i open my heart at the river
and I am You.
Barbara Jean is a poet, songwriter, singer and entrepreneur in western New York. She has been published in the Voice de la Luna, The Literary Nest, and has received four consecutive ASCAPlus awards from ASCAP, the American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers. The Non-Prophet, her companion homage to Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet, was published in 2014 under the pen name Arena Jabbar. She is presently working on her first comprehensive collection of poetry.