ENTANGLED
Are you no longer interested
in quantum physics you asked
scrambling for a point of conversation
after three days in hospital frail
and running out of time
no Mother not so much I said
turning the telescope the other way
Neanderthals are more my thing now
There is a type of macular degeneration
where a fine membrane grows across the retina
and some things become obscure distant
using a local anaesthetic they could
peel it away
but with no guaranteed improvement
It doesn’t hinder the sharpness of your view
or your judging eye
The hospice volunteer helps you write your memoir
there’s enough for three books here she raves
I’ve had the stories of your life all my life
and have tried to let them slide away
but they are heavy
You were always instructing me on the necessity
to enjoy nature fresh air walking
to have discussions about quantum physics
Your hearing aid batteries are flat
I don’t feel like shouting about entangled particles
or spooky action at a distance
The hospital doc cleared your blocked oesophagus
my attitude must have stuck in your throat
I was the wrong daughter as I lay around
reading novels poetry daydreaming
It’s the big birthday next year
I will be in the shadow of your hundred tiny flames
TULIPS FOR MY BOYS
Hey Charles Bukowski
about your friendly advice to young men
if I may – some comments on your famous words
Sleep all day and climb trees at night sounds
typically teenage
they probably don’t need telling
Do a belly dance before pink candles
could be a laugh could be a problem
Carve your name on her arm
Honestly what were you thinking?
But you did have one perfect line
Plant tulips in the rain
a metaphor for adolescence
The rain the necessary rain
tears discomfort nurture
that planting of potential in hope
of the upright strength
the flamboyance of the grown man
(alas for those poor buried bulbs that lie
hidden in sodden ground a whole lifetime)
My boys be the one who can
travel to Tibet but chooses not to
Wear blue suede shoes in irony
Camels are okay to ride but
it’s typical tourist stuff instead
ride a horse saddle or bareback
groom her
walk her in clover
pick out her hooves
jump gates for the flying exhilaration
of life
Don’t kill your dog
Be the one who writes poetry
with your every muscular action
your moving grace
your smile
your every soft word
Note: Written in response to Charles Bukowski’s ‘Friendly advice to a lot of young men’.
Great riposte to Bukowski’s toxic masculinity – boys and men can be gentle, curious, loving and creative 💚
‘Entangled’ has a heavy quality to it – a sense of tired waiting. Echoes of the weighted stories and the demands of both being nurtured and being the nurturer.
Beautifully said.
Super poems Sandra. They just keep getting better all the time and it’s always a pleasure to read them.
Thank you Laurice 🌸
I loved these poems. Both so very different and both touched me very deeply.
Someone said ‘everywhere I go a poet has been there before me’. So it is with you Sandra. Been there but only looked. With these beautiful words I can now see clearly beyond the outlines. Have both your books beside my bed and often dip into them for clarity and calm and wonder in my life.
Thank you Suzanne for those lovely words
Oh bugger, sister your poems do it to me every time! Beautiful.
Thank you xxx