Harriet Hacker
Stats
Pastime trenz pruca
Hometown seattle, washington
job photographer
interests landscape, portrait, travel
Poem Titles
> ORDER
> UN-TITLED
> THEY’RE HERE AGAIN
> TO SAY OR NOT TO SAY
ORDER
How good it is to put things in order
Just a few fixings of even small matters
can make the difference between befuddlement, overwhelm
and cruising through the day at the helm
Picking up scattered pieces of clothing
placing them on proper hangers
In proper places in the closet
Going through accumulations
newspapers, brochures and announcements of events
you meant to attend but never went to
and piled up computer print-outs
The great toss out!
Already feeling lighter
Making phone calls overdue
catching up with friends in New York and Miami
Paying the phone bill
Contributions to CARE and John Kerry
Feeling good
feeding the houseplants
walking to keep fit
returning library books on time
driving a small wedge in a time of disorder
Even a hard-to-get flu shot a coup
in a place stumbled on
free and not having to wait long
passing the good word on to others
they got theirs too
adding to my good deed quota
In a country in disorder
In my own disordered state
the righting of small things is the stuff
of which triumph can be made.
________________________________
UN-TITLED
As I regard the rose
breathe its perfection
it disintegrates within my fingers
Dear flower
Could you not linger for one more hour?
Yes, I know
there are others in the garden
that could enrapture
But it is the one that informs us that
rapture is a tease
A deceit of nature
We can never capture more than
moments of joy
As gaiety flits away
We too dissipate
In time
Wisdom may somewhat compensate
But not without
A sea of tears
________________________________
THEY’RE HERE AGAIN
I lie abed
mesmerized by the chorus
rising in the hills
a fugue of long moans and staccato yelps
a chilling sound
soaring higher and higher
They’re here again
in jubilee
reclaiming their rightful country
intense procreation has swelled their packs
after a long lean season
They're here with their menacing nighttime howls
ecstatic as they devour their prey
Bolder than ever
coming down in the day
scavenging for a juicy kitten or pup
nary a flinch as they meet you with
their crazy eyes
They made a meal of Minka and Randomity
who'd taken a little stroll
The toll was high on the neighborhood cats
We learned to keep a vigilant eye
and lock them in.
Pizzicato outsmarted them
The few times she sneaked out she
would climb up on the portico
nose quivering
sensing danger
she lived until a ripe old cat age.
Now petless
I am more dispassionate
as I listen in wonder to the song
the coyotes sing
That wild woeful refrain echoing through
this cultivated suburb.
________________________________
TO SAY OR NOT TO SAY
So much is left unsaid
I come forth with the edge
an edited version
of what I would say
were there no consideration
Fear of offending or boring
of being the fool
of exposing my fragile self
Still at times I blurt out what would be
better left unsaid or said in a better way
couching my words using the proper pitch
Indeed it is an art that others seem more attuned to
There is much more I would like to be free
to share with you
but then it might put you on the spot
of having to respond in kind
and perhaps you want none of that
there is the proper place and time
for shared intimacies.
One thing that bothers me
is the canned responses
concocted in therapy groups
to be assertive, not aggressive
To say demurely to your provocateur
whose hair in truth you'd like to tear out
"When you made that remark to me
I experienced a generally upset feeling
an ache in my abdomen, not your fault
my responsibility to deal with
I wanted you to know that"
This sort of discourse can smooth things out,
create more understanding but then
It can turn into an exercise in one-upmanship
with those who can best play the game feeling superior
the others left feeling schlemielish.
Oh to get into the depths of a tantrum or two
like I did as a child!
throw myself on the floor
kick my heels against the polished wood
kick a chair
Mother would say it was okay to kick a chair
When things were not going right
“Bad bad chair"
what better exorcism than that!
Oh those precious moments of letting loose
Shouting, "you're a monster,
How dare you treat me this way,
You can go to hell!"
Having a couple of people you can say this to
and know you will be forgiven
My husband for one
better than taking it out on a pillow
Then those words of endearment
Never enough.
What we convey with our eyes, our gestures, our stance
often belying what our voices are saying
And what doesn't come through as intended
in the journey through our singular filters
And the words words words all around us
from the very first dazzling discovery
so much of it babble you try to tune out
Words dashing about
some embracing some enlightening
some leading to a state of Grace
But more and more at war with each other
The violent language proliferates
has materialized into
Weapons of Mass Destruction
And the sounds you now hear are
whistles and booms and crashes
and screams and the moans of the dying
Then the silence
