Tuesday, October 15, 2019


Okay, seriously . . . a show of hands: how many of you can relate to this?

Tough-Talk Monday Morning
by Judith Cullen
© 2019

The alarm is the first to speak up,
klaxon of Monday's dawn arrival.
Could another 30 minutes be stolen?
The voice of commuting cars nearby
confirm time will not, cannot wait.

I want to stomp my foot, to rage.
I want all the little things to inflate
to insulate against things that matter
the things that hurt, wound, frustrate:
despair, anger, and disappointment.

My aged inner voice says, "grow up!"
wild, childish passions of the weekend
are banished, rinsed away in the froth
of cooling lavender scented soapsuds.
Then standing, fully rational and adult
I face the chill air of a brand new week.


Tuesday, October 8, 2019

*NEW POEM* On the Inevitability of Autumn

Gone Back to School
by Judith Cullen
© 2019

As if there were books involved,
pencils and pens, sharp and new,
backpacks crisp from purchase.
Though decades have passed since
our feet trod the waxy floors,
the reality of autumn is here, and
we have all gone back to school.

The carefree mists of summer
have all evaporated in entire.
No more pretext of long days,
no more buoyant assumptions
as the world seems endlessly
in bloom and perpetual growing.
We have all gone back to school.