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Sheila Spoering

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Deerfield, MI, US

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Wasted...

by

Sheila Spoering

Wasted words
Whispered to the wind.
Never heard
By anyone who could offer
A field to their seed.

Wasted thoughts.
Emotion, impression, conclusion;
All for naught.
Banging on locked doors
Of all the houses down the street.

Wasted time.
Too much silent reverie,
Too little rhyme.
Verbally doodling the days,
Filling the hours by
Filling the pages...

*Brakelights*

by

Sheila Spoering

Swerving screeching...Wham.
Then Night's silence.

Spill out of the car
Onto the road.
Slowly, in the darkness.

The thrill of Chicken.
Near miss, or
Climactic crunch.

You've never been tempted
To veer left of center
The road for yourself
Brushing the fender
Of another who dares
Who wants just as bad
(Despite hearts in tow)
The rush to be had?

And then, this.
Twisted wreckage.
Glass shattered to sand.

Really, it could have been worse.

Everyone, intact.
Bruised and bleeding,
But remaining. Whole.

Stronger than the steel
Strewn over pavement.
Silver on oily blackness,

Reduced to pieces.
Strange, what sometimes survives
These things.

Dirty Laundry

by

Sheila Spoering

Wash, wash.
Out, damned spot!
Bleach, do your work on
Those unsightly stains that
Threaten a crisp cotton life.

Spin dry.
Vanquish those eternally moist corners
That refuse to yield to the outside air.
Those untidy bits that won't flatten,
Those damp seams that can rub raw.

Iron, flat.
Crushing this wrinkled fullness,
Now three dimensions, now two.
Fits better in the closet,
This way.

Starch.
Razor-sharp edge forced on fabric.
Perfectly placed,
Perenially pleated,
Uniform.

Who cares that it no longer fits?

Water-ways

by

Sheila Spoering

Used to be a time -
My thoughts, deep and meaningless as the sea,
Washed flat your voices
Jutting out from the landscape.
Your seagull cries,
Faint echoes in my mind.

Now there is only
The stillness of a shallow pond,
Softly lapping stones.
Its surface broken by
Geese, pausing briefly
On their journey home.

Silent Sky (reflections following Sept. 11)

by

Sheila Spoering


For three days now
There has been nothing
But silent blue sky.

For three days.
Lofty white clouds
Scurry by

To collect in their
Far-off meeting place,
Impervious

To the absence of
Their Father's sons' creatures.
Returned by us,

In a moment's violence,
Ten million years of peace
In silent untouched blue.

No man-made scratches
To swell and stain
The heavens' hue.

No grids carved into sky -
We, returned to earth
Heavy and flightless.

Reminded again
Of the hatchlings we are.
Helpless and sightless,

And mortal, unlike
The perfect blue sky.
At peace with its own.

Heaven, above us -
We stare at the dirt,
And wait to be shown.

Embers

by

Sheila Spoering

Smouldering thoughts reduced
in a worn and blackened oven,
Smothered in ashes
Of contentment.

Not to ignite a whole world
By the force of the flame
But to warm a few
By its embers.

Pisces

by

Sheila Spoering

Closing my eyes,
I slip under the surface
To swim with my pastel dreams...

The raw buzz of daylight
Snags me, flips me out
Onto gritty consciousness.

Wide-eyed and thrashing,
I am forced once again
To fight for each agonized breath.

REVOLUTION

by

Sheila Spoering

I spin.
Where am I...now?
Past, present, future.
Pastpresentfuture
Blur.

I see
The vastness of a universe.
What could have been.
What might have been.
What was not.

I throw
These off and they become
Dead planets of possiblity,
Worlds frozen in time,
Stardust.

I choose,
And gather the rest unto me.
Was. Is. To be.
Reflecting my light,
Reflecting my So(u)l.

And I move.
Pulled ahead my my own creation.
Forward, outward,
Expanding to fill this darkness
By all that I am.

I revolve.
I evolve.

I AM.

Poetry: Two Sketches

by

Sheila Spoering

I. Temple

Brilliant in shape and hue,
Stained glass words
Capture Light in a colored web
As finely wrought as lace.

II. Museum

Plate glass phrases -
Invisible to the eye,
Save for naked unadorned Truth.
Vision's Being, exposed.

Poetry Competition

What Was Not

by

Sheila Spoering

A star was
Not born, yesterday.
Fusion, stopped
Before it began.
No worlds
Spun from its reaches.
It was not meant to be.

A door,
Unopened today.
An opportunity
Passed.
A road, forever untaken,
Untrod by you and me.

But we hear
No voices calling.
Only murmurs
Of the wind,
From Here.
And Now.
This is all we know.

No angels'
Song,
Nor demons'
Curse,
Wrapped within
The seed
Not sown.

Merely silence,
Drowned by
Anguished cries,
Carried in
The whispering wind
Of those who Are

Here.
And Now.
Their vision
Much more blinding
Than the non-birth
Of a star.

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Matryoshka

by

Sheila Spoering

Standing, silent and hollow
In whistling winds of change.
I am matryoshka.

Painted eyes that never close
Painted smile that never ends -
Merely fades with passing time.

Much have I seen
Little do I know
And nothing can I do.

No voice to speak out
No arms to reach out
No legs to carry me away.

I become smaller in myself
Twist me apart - See!
How tiny I am, how fragile.

Now cold in this air
And blind in this light
And pained from your touch.

Replace me - quickly!
Hide me deep in my shells
Inside/inside/inside

Now again numb
Wooden, frozen
And hollow.

I smile uselessly
unceasingly
at the winds of change.

Matryoshka

by

Sheila Spoering

Standing, silent and hollow
In whistling winds of change.
I am matryoshka.

Painted eyes that never close
Painted smile that never ends -
Merely fades with passing time.

Much have I seen
Little do I know
And nothing can I do.

No voice to speak out
No arms to reach out
No legs to carry me away.

I become smaller in myself
Twisted apart - See!
How tiny I am, how fragile.

Now cold in this air
And blind in this light
And pained from your touch.

Replace me - quickly!
Hide me deep in my shells
Inside/inside/inside

Now again numb
Wooden, frozen
And hollow.

I smile uselessly
unceasingly
at the winds of change.

Hothouse Flower

by

Sheila Spoering

Hothouse flower
red, of course
found only
here
a whiff of fragrance
soft and fleeting
a touch of unexpected hue
making my head spin...

Not to be
cut and dried
cut and carried
into
that other place
that outer space

Only here
in this tropical heat
does it open
only now
in the confines of you and I
does it bloom
briefly
and then disappear