John Grey

GREENHOUSE

The greenhouse is artificial tropics.
Orchids grow here
like it’s the heart of Africa
or deep in the Amazon Basin.

Outside, a flake of snow
flutters groundward,
skis down the glass roof.

In the jungle below,
a Venus flytrap
slams its mouth shut
instinctively.

SINGULAR FLOWER

All night, snow fell on snow,
like the footfall of small animals.
By morning, under clear sky,
the world wore
its white cloak of homologous mesh
through which some crocus
saw its chance and took it.

A WALK AT DUSK

Sun reduced to small favors here and there,
streetlamps dull and glassy,
but the moon, already up and about,
crosses the field of your eyes,
your mouth, your cheeks.

I take your hand,
stroll into a world
that treasures its moonlight
more than any other shine.

IN THIS PICTURE I HAVE OF YOU

You stand at the blackboard,
before a labyrinth of equations,
wonder who could possibly understand
what you have written –

for all you might have been,
teaching is where you ended up –
you have the look of someone
who’d rather I wasn’t looking at you. 

HANDOFF

Together
for the first time
since the divorce,
a child handoff –

she’s looking well,
he’s looking well –

the kid’s just looking,
mostly at his shoes. 

ONE JULY DAY IN NEW YORK CITY

I passed by
Paul Shaffer
on Seventh Avenue.

He gave one of those
“Yes, it’s me” looks.

Unlike Paul,
I don’t have
a look like that
in reserve. 

TO BE ALIVE

It’s good to be alive.
To not be dead.
Or dying.
Or sick even.
And it’s good to hear yourself say,
“It’s good to be alive.”
Remember,
life is always
in your best interest.

~~~

John Grey is an Australian poet and US resident, recently published in Stand, Washington Square Review, and Sheepshead Review. Latest books – Between Two Fires, Covert, and Memory Outside the Head are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in the
McNeese Review, Santa Fe Literary Review, and California Quarterly. John was first featured in 2020 and then again in 2022. You can click HERE to review them. Selected pieces of his work were published in The Short of It – Volume 1 – The Sound of Brilliance and Volume 2 – Reflections & Revelations.

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#TheShortofIt

Dysfunction

it happened when least expected
taken advantage of
at our most vulnerable moments

our furtherance at stake
things screwed us up
we didn’t know any better

young and reckless
saddled with stupidity
and inherited complications

some will survive
others succumb
and a few will thrive

We Owe Them

Looking at the world around me, I see a tremendous amount of beauty, but woven into the fabric of living is much that is distressing. The sadness and cruelty that falls upon the young ones, the vulnerable, and the innocent ones is heartbreaking, and worse some of us humans don’t even care that it happens. What is wrong with our world?

Children didn’t ask to be born. They are entitled to have parents who are loving, nurturing, kind, and not dysfunctional. Many days and nights, even doing the best that I could be as a parent, have left me with guilt-induced sadness. I know that I didn’t live up to what I thought should be great parenting; I made many mistakes.

As adults, we have a responsibility to provide the next generation hope their lives will bear fruit in a world that is notoriously treacherous to navigate to begin with. They deserve only the best. If all babies were born wanted, loved, and raised appropriately, future generations would thrive. Maybe. I hope.

Fingers crossed Charles is right!

Progeny

Inspired by Moonwashed Weekly Prompt – Nonsensical & Reena’s Exploration Challenge #259

their precious faces
and nonsensical babbles
sheer joy in their eyes
ah, the memories of those days
bring a smile to my face

the poopy diapers
siblings fighting
snot-filled noses
hours upon hours of crying
not so much

each year brought new challenges
as milestones were reached and lessons were learned
and just when my last nerve was plucked
growth occurred
i uttered a sigh of relief

they are grown now
having flown the coop
to fashion their lives as they see fit
it’s satisfying to know
i got two things right

Meltdowns

Gabriella Clare Marino – Unsplash

Inspired by Sadje’s What do you see #78 and VJ’s Weekly Challenge – I’m bored

i’m bored!
my teddy bear fell in the toilet!
i’m hungry!
jeffy took my crayons!
i’m thirsty!
mama, my finger is stuck!
sandra poked me!
jeffy hit me!
mommy, the cat looked at me funny!

come darlings
lunch is ready
the kiddie table is set
maybe some wine and a cigarette will calm you two down?

**DISCLAIMER – I’ve never offered toddlers wine or cigarettes.

The Risk Of Loving

@avogado6 on Twitter

Inspired by Eugi’s Weekly Prompt – Jewels & Reena’s Exploration Challenge #174

the streaming brilliance of those i adore
elicit my smiles and warm heart-felt thanks
for providing a cushion from the cruelty in this world

the love i hold for those i love
fills me with joy and comfort
an ease not found elsewhere but with them

occasionally worry squeezes my head
allowing anxiety to ripple through my heart
the safety of the jewels in my life takes priority

i hope desperately to ensure their longevity
because what would i be
without them


Reblog – Life-force by Dorinda Duclos

Oof! Those special relationships, they certainly know how to be there for us. It’s a tender and loving bond that never goes away.

Night Owl Poetry - Dorinda Duclos


She scolds me when I’m stupid
Though she’ll never use the word
It’s simply by, the look in her eye
That proves no words need be heard

I acknowledge with an uneasy sigh
But, somehow, it never soaks in
She looks at me and wonders why
I’d rather sink, than swim.

Things ingrained into me
From so very long ago
Are sorely hard to leave behind
For my own good, I need to, though

So I never let another
Drain my life, oh, how I’ve tried
As hard as I try to fight it
A part of me has died

To leave it in the past, tis true
I must heed what I am told
By one much younger than me
Who, with a simple hug, enfolds

Bringing comfort to my weary heart
Breathing life into my soul
My daughter shares her life-force
The thing from me, another stole…

©2020

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