They appear at the precise moment
I allow myself to believe
I might be rid of them for good.
Invading shadows darting
out from dark corners
unexpectedly like cancer or poverty
welcomed, haunting.

Their unpredictability frightens me
more than any virus they might carry.
I am afraid to relax into my easy chair
to linger too long in my kitchen
for fear of being startled by these little
invaders of my privacy
looking for a scrap of food I
left behind my stove.

Fears collide

Indeed
too scared to believe
don’t we all feel it?

Too big
too small
too short
too tall

I am afraid I didn’t make a difference
took the easy way out
made too many mistakes
will they remember when I’m gone
that I once was here?
once I tried
too much
too much to say
too little held back
afraid I gave up
leaving little to the mind’s eye
where do I go now
living in paradise
shutting out the world
do I accept it all
or do I keep trying
sometimes being very trying

Nor tornados,blizzards, floods, dust storms, falls from high treehouses, punches in the nose, having lived through them all.

The fear is my family legacy, the shaking hands, the nerves slowly deteriorating, the breathing no longer automatic, the memory no longer reliable.

Of not being able to read my beloved books or a sheet of music, to call my grandson by his name–this more than any slimy beasty is my
fear.

awakened
sheets soaked
hair on neck and arms alive
a darkness dwells
the number 4 sewn into a haze of purple
styrofoam cheddar set aside for a pair of horns
tundra abandoned for turf
boyhood hope crushed
like a plastic beer cup

“Sour Patch Kids” – and i did go with the prompt.

just a warning, i have a streampad that automatically plays music, so if your sound is up loud, you get to listen to I’ll Make a Man Out of You from the Mulan soundtrack yeahyeah!

1 2
Uncertainty unhinges me I pray to trust
No amount of planning look to the birds of the field
lessens uncertainty I’ve the brain of a predator
stuff happens not a bird-prey brain
Stuff happening is a certainty so I worry about what and when

3
Reading and gentle music
walking in wind and rain
sitting quietly aside a creek
yet I monkey-mind to
what if…stuff happens

Fear.

I run them through
a slap crash edit
the hour bears down
slamming all of it
up against it
exhausting the
fight/flight monkey
in me

eyes closed
hand over heart,
over pulse, try to feel,
try to see, try to find it –
but it’s a cardboard cut out
of CG emotion
running out of time
a caricature at best

like a bad actress in
a spanish soap opera
I have disappointed
I can’t find fear in my
mind or body, can’t
fake myself into it

I dig deeper

up floats a memory
of me with a woman
in my office who is ten,
maybe fifteen years
older than I am
the age I am now
give or take, five or ten

I’m trying to figure
out If she cares
if she wants to live
enough to quit smoking

she asked for my help
she paid me the money
she showed up on time

she tells me her story
of death by the numbers
her spouse and best friend
her parents and siblings

she sits blank-faced
while I search for
some silvery gem
cracker jack prize
to extract from her
tower of loss

we stare at each other

the only sound a wave
machine filling up the
silent spaces

finally she says,

“just wait. you’ll see.”

years and losses
later I understood

I was afraid

of being

the last

one

http://thebooklife.wordpress.com/2010/04/04/4-3/

Fear is,
http://vanessavaile.posterous.com/wripo-3-fear-is

I actually liked this poem.

http://mayaganesan.blogspot.com/2010/04/napowrimo-3.html

Enjoy!