A Sheltered Life – an original poem

A Sheltered Life
by T. K. Jones

“She needs friends,” the mother says.
“But I don’t think she wants friends.”
She takes another long drag from her Virginia Slims
Not realizing it was largely her own fault
that her daughter had no friends.
No, not a single one
Always caged up in the apartment
Overprotected
A sheltered childhood
Preteen years of dwindling invitations
To the beach or to the mall
Not that anyone ever had any money to spend
“I can’t.”
“I’m not allowed to.”
She’d sigh, half whimpering, into the phone.
“She won’t let me go.”

The girl becomes strange.
Stranger than before.
A stranger now
A stranger stranger.
Some days not responding, or even acknowledging
Anyone or anything
A catatonic state.
Other days speaking in riddles and rhymes
In a low, ethereal voice much like a weeping cello

“She doesn’t have any friends,” her mother would tell everyone
as a matter-of-factly at family gatherings,
Leaving out the part about when her daughter was just a child
and asked if she would ever get married
The mother’s reply was, “No.
I’m the only friend you’ve got in this world.”
Destined for spinsterhood
An Emily Dickinson life.
An Emily Dickinson death.

Copyright © 2015 T. K. Jones

Why Two Chairs? — an original poem

I wrote a paradelle poem. I think by looking at the poem you can figure out the form. I learned about this form from Poetic Asides in the current issue of WD.

“Why Two Chairs?”
by T. K. Jones

Waited all week for a thunderstorm.
Waited all week for a thunderstorm.
I love gardening in the rain.
I love gardening in the rain.
Gardening, I waited for love in the rain.
A thunderstorm all week.

Some people wait all their lives for love.
Some people wait all their lives for love.
There just can not be someone for everyone.
There just can not be someone for everyone.
Some people can just wait for someone all their lives.
There be not love for everyone.

Would it not be sad to live and die alone?
Would it not be sad to live and die alone?
Wondering why you bought two chairs for the table.
Wondering why you bought two chairs for the table.
Live to die alone. Two sad chairs and wondering why.
Would it not be for the table you bought?

Some people love their lives, for love. For everyone can not wait
All week, all alone, I waited. There would be sad rain
In the thunderstorm, wondering why not. You bought a table for someone,
the two chairs just for it. To be, live and die gardening.

Copyright © 2015. T. K. Jones. All Rights Reserved.