Strawberry Alarm Clocks

Strawberry Alarm Clocks

He is a time-warped Rip Van Winkle
with fading Sixties memories
when hazy pleasure days
of free love’s good vibrations
were angel dusted with bad trips
of long-legged spiders oozing
from sockets in the wall.

Now he sells novelties
at sporadic street fairs
near Haight-Ashbury and Stanyan.
Censers on his cart smolder aromas
of sandalwood and copal.
Stacked with peace sign t-shirts
are strawberry alarm clocks…
scented red candles tied in bundles
to resemble dynamite…
sweet-smelling reminders
of contradictions in his life.

Bonnie Marshall

Here There Be Dragons

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hic Sunt Dracones
drawn on ancient maps
meant sail at your own risk
to these uncharted realms.

So we-the-cautious learned
to watch where sidewalks end,
stay on roads with yellow bricks,
and leave white pebble-stones
in pathless woods
to show the way back home.

While gatekeepers of good fortune
all with daunting names…
Indecision and Timidity,
Loss-of-Initiative and Cost…
lurk…prowling there
on shores of our intent.

Bonnie Marshall

 

Thinking About Bluebirds

Thinking About Bluebirds

Some words flash like lightning
jarring awareness
and confusing thinking
with surprising strength.

For most of us in first grade
that word was bluebirds.
Our teacher taunted us with
“I’ll give you sundaes,
chocolate in big bowls,
not to think of bluebirds
for one minute…starting now.”
“Not fair!” we shouted,
stung with the meanness,
though Jack mumbled bumblebees
ten seconds for distraction.

Then as we grew slightly older
came ideas with so much power
we wouldn’t say the words
…although some did…
for they seemed to us
like small electric shocks.
Some mumbled their hyphenated
consonants and vowels
b-word, f-word, t-word, a-word
…and others…
for we were being schooled
in grown up animus
and understood somehow
the flashings of injustice
that for us began with bluebirds.

Bonnie Marshall

A Touch of Ludicrous

A Touch of Ludicrous

Once upon a time
we early believers
thought the Easter Rabbit
hid boiled chicken eggs
just for us to find…
and that the Tooth Fairy
left shiny silver coins
under a bed pillow
for our rootless baby teeth.

Later came wry awareness
of our gullible delight
in that merry make-believe
where  a long-eared rabbit
scattered brightly colored symbols
of adult fertility…
and where a magic fairy
placed rare value
on tiny…bloody teeth.

Now in the grownup present
somewhat wiser…somewhat jaded
we unpack those fantasies…
hiding eggs and shining coins
for delighted innocents…
because we still cherish
the remembered silliness
of the ludicrous.

Bonnie Marshall

Wonder Weeks

Wonder Weeks

There is an avarice for touching
inherent in new children
along with fretfulness and crying,
such as before they grasp
the possibilities of toes.

There are whole wonder weeks
as image folds into image
like turns of a kaleidoscope…
soft female croon
and deep resonance of male,
loudness startle
and entrancing music shimmer.

There is a faint remembrance
of  these wonder weeks
that persists throughout a lifetime
with occasional fretfulness and crying
just before we achieve awareness
of  bright possibilities.

Bonnie Marshall