Debbie Simco's Poetry


Nothing For My Arms To Hold
Fireworks, Picnics,
Cushioned on a lawn chair
The parade marches by, I've
Nothing for my arms to hold.
Hot and sweaty
Laying by the pool
Watching children swim, I've
Nothing for my arms to hold.
Going shopping with my boy
Pushing the cart, meeting
Friends at the mart, I've
Nothing for my arms to hold.
People look twice, see my
New form, inquire how I'm
Doing since the baby was...I've
Nothing for my arms to hold.
Oh it's just as well they say
Don't you think twice just try
Again, oh not baptised you say. I've
Nothing for my arms to hold.
The boy assumes a sister he's got
I remind him heaven's a one
Way stop- but still I've
Nothing for my arms to hold.
Tears fall, leaves too
The bus picks up another child.
Listless, I wait such a long while.
Still nothing for my arms to hold.
Christmas comes, holiday cheer
I don't know why I can't
Get into it this year. I've
Nothing for my arms to hold.
Happy New Year! Maybe
For you I say, I can't
Think of anything pleasant today. I've
Nothing for my arms to hold.
Finally I'm busy, finally alive
Even though sorrows' buried
Deep inside and I've
Nothing for my arms to hold.
Months pass by months
I look like a blimp, scared, so
Scared anew that- I'll
Have nothing for my arms to hold.
False alarms, second trips, this
Thing's dragging out and I think
I'll be sick but- Oh, oh,
Finally. I've something for
My arms to hold.

Pain
Pain-cutting,burning,searing
Soaring
Out of control,
Waving, cresting, cramping
Breathless and cringing
I wait for an ebb, a
Pause
To be in control
To find the core, the center
And the cause of
The unrelenting crushing,
Hot water flooding
Opened gates grating of
Pain.
HomeFre@aol.com
Jennifer Simco's Page
Our Readers' Page
Marc Awodey's Page
NEW Readers'Page II
Readers'Page III
My Cool Main Page
My University Main Page
Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass Web Site |