Poetry

Un poème pour Mustapha

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je souris et
je rigole
ce moment
d’ecstase
qui m’attend

à cause de toi
la vie est gaie
j’ai des amis
qui sont devant
et autour de moi

j’ai des amis
qui me protègent
tous les jours
et toutes les nuits
sais pas pourquoi

suis-je belle?
peut-etre jolie?
je parle langage
trop fleuri
de mauvais temps

je les aime
ces chers amis
dans ma vie
dans le monde
de tristesse

de très loin
lumière d’Algérie
qui m’écrit
de bons mots
d’amitiés

je souris et
je rigole
car la vie est
comme tu dis
mon cher ami

–Victoire, 2014

Sole Survivor

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I am the sole guest
At my dinner table
No one to please
Save my own palate

The hour is late
As work takes over
On this holiday week
With no one to share

A Roomful of Blues
Plays Solid Jam
Awakening my soul
Soul of another kind

I scour cookbooks
For fresh recipes
Savor Gouda and gherkins
With a vodka chase

My kitchen dance begins
10 o’clock piano jazz
And smooth lyrics
To hide my fears

Let me love you, baby
He repeats throughout
A tune that will fade
As love fades, too, after a while

Butter sizzles in the pan
Hot pools of taste
Wait for the main dish
Washed and patted dry

Flour encases the fillets
Protects them from harm
Wish it were so easy
To protect me, too

Wrapped in flour
Browned and moist
Seasoned well over time
Sole Meunière survives

–Victoria Emmons,  Copyright 2014

Monday Night Promise

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The doorbell never rings
As expected this Monday night
The steak is never grilled
Nor the wine poured

Baked potatoes are hot
Ready to devour with butter
And peas with lemon juice
Without the special guest

Anticipation nonetheless
Expectation and longing
Planning for days and
Preparation complete

Dress is selected
Pressed at the seams
Lipstick in place
Bouquet in a vase

The wait is endless
Count seconds on the clock
A Monday night promise
Tuesday morning tears

My Every Breath

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Take it away
My every breath
Never to return

You gave me life
Deepest hope
Beautiful laughter

Those words you sent
In a tiny box
Magnified our love

We were sixteen
Or so it felt
For a while

The many years
Months, days
And hours

Became nothing
More than minutes
Counting morphine

–Victoria Emmons ©2011

To Do List

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Prepare for poetry.
Prepare for change.
Think more.
Make time for cursive writing.
Ignore Yahoo mail.

Get nails done.
Get hair done.
Believe in something.
Believe in anything.
Why believe?
Why not?

My head aches.
Blood is everywhere.
I am bleeding.
I am hurting.
I am bewildered.
I am emboldened.

Do not eat.
Do not drink.
Do not answer the phone.
Do not answer email.
Do not text.

Fast.
Lose weight.
Lose faith.
Lose teeth.
Lose friends.
Lose life.

Then gain.
Gain faith in humankind.
Gain friends.
Gain life.
But do not gain weight.
Gain gravitas.

LED Morning

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Three blue fives
Reconcile time
For the morning

Down the stairs
Follow green glow
To the kitchen

Red embers
Lighten the room
Draw me near

In the darkness
Inspire me to
Press new words

Cats follow
Interrupt thought
Cries of need

Feed the hungry
To satisfy
And fulfill

Flash of red
Dull warning
Signals light

Renew thought
An addiction
To e-mail

–Victoria Emmons, 2009

Wente Concert Summer 2009

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Palm trees wave at dusk
Blue backdrop to the stage
Backdrop to my memory
Of hits from the 70s

Graying heads bob
In rhythm to the music
Songs behind our minds
From a former time

A single lighter flame
Waves back and forth
Keeping time with
Familiar melodies

Others follow the lead
Of a digital flame
A sea of mechanical fire
Erupts in unison

Cheese on our knees
Share a Cabernet
Stars in the sky
Planes fly to SFO

The crowd is relaxed
So easy and free
Nothing less than
A three-song curtain call

Claps and whistles abound
An old man wearing a hat
Dances with a slender blond
The night’s still young

–Victoria Emmons, 2014

Cross Country

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Race to find
Lost champions
Displaced colleagues
Beloved coaches

Forlorn friends
From an era gone by
Ring the sound
Of glory for the team

Ring the sound
Of glory to learn
The prize is not
The ring at all

The prize is you, my friend
The friend who loves you
Who cheers the champion
And finds the colleagues

Mourns the era gone by
Melts away 50 years
Holds the class as one
Even across country

–Victoria Emmons, 2014

(Inspired by the Robert E. Lee High School Class of 1968 whose track team won the State Cross Country Championship, never got the recognition it deserved until 2014 when a reunion was organized by fellow classmates and a champion ring was given to each member of the team.)

Talking with Flies

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He followed me home tonight
After dinner at the club
I wasn’t sure he’d show up
At dinner, I mean

The table was set for two
And the waiter asked
“Expecting someone, Ma’am?”
To which I replied my usual

I am only one, you see
Just me and my iPad
To talk to one another
Over duck and Chardonnay

The second set of forks
Whisked from the table
Along with a black napkin
So as not to confound

I know I am one and not two
Know that the distance between
Me and you is vast and cold
That you are really gone

Yet you arrive with the salad
Of tomatoes and mozzarella
Your sound alerts me long
Before I see you fly by

So free and easy you are
No pain or wretched love
Just swirling and gliding
Over my plate to say hi