Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

Tag: poetry

FEROCITY

The Tomato-coloured Couch 7:00pm

In December 1970 I wanted to possess

badly wanted

A Pair Of Love Birds

green & red —

sitting so close

in the local pet store

I had My nine-year-old heart set

on Them & cried to My Mother

that I had to have Them

to which She replied, “Joge, what if One Of Them

dies?”

Instead, on Christmas Morning I found

a beautiful Indian Ring Neck Parakeet

but He died That Day

at the bottom of His Golden Cage

& destroyed

My ability to see

The Singularity Of God

FEEDING THE CHILDREN

Tusket, NS 11:45am

When are We going to stop

hearing why Christmas should

or shouldn’t be —

or what it should or shouldn’t

be for?

Like an open van-load of toys

in a car dealer’s show room

to attract any child’s attention

with a sales woman’s pronouncement:

“It’s for the kids —

that’s what Christmas

should be for –“

LAVENDER LADY

Eliza’s Lavender Room 7:36pm

The Second Coming of Christ

has moved out of Her Husband’s Room

to afford greater access

to sleep without cats

— a temporary move —

but now to live

in the singularity of mind

DIVINE & HUMAN

as She programs Her Self

to open up The World

by saying “Good Night”

to Its mammoth past

THE WALK

The Hawk Outpost 1:50pm

With The Sublimity of The Morning

with Me making coffee for three

with Eliza baking blueberry muffins

I thought to write of a garden

I was taken to see

by an Acadian Nurse named Emily

Who thought I’d like to walk

across the hospital parking lot

across a curving back street

to a stranger’s yard grown up

with flowers I don’t remember —

but I remember The Walk

& found It, or One like It, noted

in My decades-old medical records:

“Patient enjoyed Her Walk.”

WHAT DOES IT MEAN?

The Hawk Queen Bed 11:04pm

What Does It Mean

To Be Human?

To Top The Chart

One Bell Curve

Of Human Behavioural Spectrum —

To Sit Up There

Like A Star

Growing Into The Nebula

Reaching Out

To Very Vast Edges?

A WOMAN’S PLACE

The Hawk West Desk Window 10:05am

I am a very womanly woman:

I feed My Husband His Instant

Oatmeal —

later make Him a sandwich  —

supper @ 6:00 —

I buy all the groceries

do The Laundry

& keep The House tidy

weekday mornings I see My Husband

off to Work

where his Secretary gets Him

take-out meals —

like all The Women

The World Over

We keep Our Men

Alive

LAST NIGHT WE HAD A STORM

The Hawk Dining Room 9:28am

…leaving the expanse of roiling ocean

with Silver cascading off

in spray

to move in closer on a neighbour’s drive

— there an illuminated puddle —

the road is wet

reflective

right down to My Window Sash

a Silver

dot

ACCOMPANYING MY NAP

The Hawk Queen Bed 1:42pm

In keeping with The Churning Sea

loud enough to be heard

against windows closed for winter

I heard The Fog Horn’s Note

penetrate My nearness of sleep

2 THOUGHTS

The Hawk Queen Bed NOON

I come into My Bedroom

The Privacy —

only to write To The World

The Tomato-coloured Couch 4:35pm

Dr Blair signs His Papers

with His Gold & Onyx Pen

while I blink on The Couch, tired

looking for My Friend —

My Friend Who came to Me Last Night

and put His spherical rays

in front of My Crazed Sight

 

AURA OF EYE

The Hawk Queen Bed 9:53am

 

aura of eye

Last Night I saw

The Aura of Eye

whenever I blinked

& became The Petulant Child

while My Husband went to sleep

I wore Him out

with My Antics

while I tried

to decipher

what I was seeing

& decided

I should eat