Joan Pond Poetry

The Good Old Days Poem by Joan Pond

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shallow_thoughts

The Good Old Days Expired
by Joan Pond

The good old days expired
when I sat on the bed
and he said he didn”t love me
as much as I loved him.
Irrecoverable
obsolete,
I was past perfect;
incomplete without him
Once upon a time
I”d found my prince
but he turned me into something
less.
Weighed
and found wanting
I packed beggardly boxes
and left,
not wanting to lose more
than I could
afford.

***
shallow_thoughts
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Not Sitting Shiva A Poem by Joan Pond

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NOT SITTING SHIVA

AJ was whiter than I remembered, and his lips were taut.
I reached over to fix a lock of his hair,
then stopped.
Egad! I’d almost touched a corpse.
I sat beside him, smelling Bubby’s brisket and potato kugel,
thinking of her applesauce and lemon cake.
Then, suddenly,
I started to shake inside.
I should be ashamed,
only thinking of myself.
But AJ always liked food, the gathering of family, and close friends.
This was a time to make amends,
to bury the hatchet, along with the dead.
And as Bubby came from the kitchen with a platter of chicken liver and bow ties,
I swear
I thought I saw AJ smile.

meteor poem by Joan Pond

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Egocentrism
by Joan Pond

Keeping his eyes skyward
he views the Perseids.
Thinking,
meteors commune with him.
Facing northeast,
the Geminids display a flagrant shower.
His power is unimaginable;
yet all in his mind.
Walking to work each day,
I see a shooting star and wish.
But the Geminids come and go.
I know these stony balls of ice
merely light the sky,
but I can”t help think
they”re communing
with me, too.

***

Poem Blind Faith Poem by Joan Pond

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Blind Faith
by Joan Pond

I look for a sign.
If I could see His footprints,
or some honest to God relics,
like a lock of His hair
or the ring He wore.
If the LaBrae Tar pit were filled
with haloes and harps
perhaps,
I could believe.
If there was a place like Graceland
where I could
touch His bathrobe and bedroom slippers,
Then,
my faith
wouldn”t have to be
so blind.

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