Birthday Cake--A Poem in Five Voices

BIRTHDAY CAKE 

Measuring Spoons 
Our advice? 
Be precise. 

Kitchen Aid 
I stand… 
I mix, blend, 
whip, stir, knead… 
at your command. 

Cake Pans 
We’re fickle. 
Three layers stick 
whenever we pick. 

Violets on the Windowsill 
We choose 
purple for our blooms. 
You make the air go blue 
because of what the pans decided to do. 

Table 
Come sit. 
Unwind. 
Write a bit. 
Find 
the humor in all of it. 
Be resigned, 
start again. Don’t quit.


© Mary Lee Hahn, 2012

Petty Theft

PETTY THEFT

the 

snatch

was

a

fluke

the 

move

abandoned

denied  

for fun

and

fickle income

and

that

power

It was just the only option we

had.

I

feel really weird

Still 

it took

risk

© Mary Lee Hahn, 2012

Murder?

Photo Credit: Farmanac iPhone App

MURDER?

Sunflower sprouts on my chicken salad:

baby sunflower plants.

Infanticide?

No, inPLANTicide.

© Mary Lee Hahn, 2012

You're Making a BIG Assumption

YOU'RE MAKING A BIG ASSUMPTION

Willie Morris 

is a catasaurus,

yet his voice is a dainty "mew."

Don't let that fool you.

© Mary Lee Hahn, 2012

Spring is a Quick Change Artist

SPRING IS A QUICK CHANGE ARTIST

sky

darkens

thunder

comes

rain

pounds 

down

sky

lightens

clouds

part

chirps

sound

'round

© Mary Lee Hahn, 2012

Streamside

STREAMSIDE

On the path
a girl is strolling,
by the path
a stream is rolling.

In the stream
the water glitters,
under water
crawdad skitters.

Path in spring
is good for going,
Stream in spring
is good for flowing.

© Mary Lee Hahn, 2012

Boxed In

BOXED IN

They've made their home

in a commercial zone.

He struts down the walk

where no predators stalk:

the vigilant gander

threatening human bystanders,

while goose wishes she

had more privacy.

© Mary Lee Hahn, 2012

Collaboration

COLLABORATION

Teaching is collaboration,

Not an act in isolation.

Empty vessels don't exist,

Learners' efforts must persist.

Nothing's easy the first time,

But "Oh! I get it!" feels sublime.

Both of us must take a turn.

Two must try for one to learn.

© Mary Lee Hahn, 2012

What to do if you are a redbud in spring

WHAT TO DO IF YOU ARE A REDBUD IN SPRING

Burst
first.

Amaze
with the cavalier way
you explode whole constellations of purple stars
from your smooth grey bark.

Add glory
to the understory.



©Mary Lee Hahn, 2012

I'm Your Mom

Flickr Creative Commons Photo "Mother Hen and Chicks" by Frances Taylor

I'M YOUR MOM

I'm your mom when you're in school.
I mom you sharply when you're cruel.
I mom you gently when you're hurt.
I mom the buttons on your shirt!

(I mom the music teacher's tie.)
I always mom you when you cry.
(I mom the plants on the windowsill.)
I mom you when you're feeling ill.

I'll never be your mom at home.
I'll never see what you'll become.
I'll never tuck you into bed,
Never hold your feverish head.

But I'm your mom when you're in school
And I'll mom you into shape with rules
Because I love you like you're mine...
I hope your real mom doesn't mind!


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2011

Where I'm From

WHERE I'M FROM

I'm from the smell of chlorine

and the heat of sun-baked cement by the pool.

I'm from cherry tomatoes eaten warm off the plant

and zinnias, marigolds, and petunias.

I'm from goatheads and hailstones,

blizzards and dust storms.

I'm from "Punkin' " and "Sugar Plum"

and "You are my special angel."

I'm from Lawrence Welk and Glenn Miller,

Ed Sullivan and Johnny Cash.

I'm from Lubbers Lounge Lu Lu,

Thanksgiving ham, and broiled spareribs.

I'm from wide horizons

and big skies,

I'm from a small town

and narrow opportunities.

I've traveled far.

I've kept it all inside my heart.

Mary Lee Hahn, copyright 2010

Phlebotomist

Phlebotomist

It's about the needle
and it's about the tourniquet.
It's about the alcohol
and it's about the tap-tap-tap on the vein.


It's the difference between
drawing blood as a PART of your job
and drawing blood
AS your job.


Stick-meister:
Phlebotomist.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2010

Swimming

photo by gabyu

SWIMMING

First it's about the shock of the cold

and the strength of the first five laps.

Then, for the next howevermany laps,

it's about the rhythm

and the breathing

and the black line below me.

It's the rhythm

and the breathing

and the black line below me.

It's the cardinal outside my window this morning

and the things I need to do this weekend

and the things that didn't get done today.

It's the rhythm

and the breathing

and the black line below me.

It's the girl in the purple bikini in the lane next to me.

She swims so fast it seems like she's on top of the water

instead of in it, 

like I am.

It's the rhythm

and the breathing

and the black line below me.

It's the smell of the chlorine

and the push off the wall.

And the rhythm

and the breathing

and the black line below me.

Finally it's about the deliciously hot water of the shower

and the sting of the cold air on my damp head.

It's about

the drive home and

the late dinner and

the falling asleep.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2010

This is a poem about what it's like to swim laps. While it might look tedious from the deck (back and forth, back and forth), there's actually a lot going on inside my head while I swim. Besides working to keep track of my lap count, I think about my day, plan what needs to get done tomorrow, and make up stories about the swimmers around me. The counting keeps me focused, though, and makes my swim a 30 or 40 minute meditation. And no matter what else my mind is doing, the swim is always about the rhythm and the breathing and the black line below me.

Wild Atrocity

Wild Atrocity

by Mary Lee Hahn

Glory be to God for silly things --

For running-dives all in a pile of musky autumn leaves;

For rollercoaster rides in the first car alone;

Wet late-March snowball fights; frisbee flings;

Junk food caloric and sweet -- pizza, french fries, sundaes;

And all jokers, their plots and puns and funny bones.

All things humorous, playful, joking, tickly;

Whatever is unplanned, spontaneous (who knows why?)

With smile, grin; laugh, shout; giggle, groan;

They maintain sanity whose beauty is past lunacy:

PRAISE THEM!

©Mary Lee Hahn, 1986

after Pied Beauty by Gerard Manley Hopkins

written for my poetry class with Charlotte Huck in my 

MA in Children's Literature program at OSU