*All poetry on this site has been copyrighted and I am the sole owner of
each and every poem. Any attempt to illegaly reproduce these poems will
result in immediate legal action.*

Welcome to the poetry portion of my site. I would love for you to
enjoy my poetry. This is fair warning to you though... most of this
poetry isn't so happy, I will work on that, I swear. I am a very
happy and pleasant person (for the most part), my poetry just comes
out a little on the unhappy side, but I don't think that it is any
better or worse than the happy things that I have written, but I
promise to write some happier poems and post them soon!
Love,
The Sage

Saint Nicholas

Jessica Gleason

They wrapped small treasures in metallic papers,
topped them with bows, then crept bare-foot in
past my slumbering form and filled
my ragged keds with rich chocolates,
all with a love so silent I couldn’t hear it.

My mother must have been beautiful then, swelling
with love for her truck driving husband,
sharing dinner and holding hands
while their unspoken bond swept the floors.

Harder yet is to consider
the times ahead, the only sweeping
was that of the broken glass littering
the linoleum kitchen floor.

The pieces of their love, of mother’s heart
swept up in the dustpan as she sat
red-eyed—trembling at the same dinner table
and he slurred obscenities that reeked of rum
and punched the wall
with his malicious fist.

I can still remember her soggy eyes and
his sloppy form, the night I saw him
throw her down the stairs by her hair, the night I threw
my shoes at him to save my little sister from being
his next victim.

He is alone in the city now,
a traveling truck driver with a bum knee.
His face is a bloated brown—still drinking.

She sells clothing at a little shop
in a little town,
has shorter hair now.

I still wonder how they did it, crept barefoot in
and left those rich chocolates…

I don’t ask her, though I think of what her answer might have been.
“I don’t know how we did it, but we’ll never do it again.”



Hats Off

by

Jessica Gleason

I have hidden the hat
that you always wear
to cover your obscene ears,
and that you are most
likely searching for,
Right now.

Forgive me.
I’m sorry if you’re mad and at home screaming obscenities.

I regret what I have done…
It was just so inviting
lying there, as gravity so demands, on
the square green bed in your room
and
you were sleeping so soundly
--I just couldn’t resist
creeping on tiptoe and biting my lip
as I snuck into your room with
machine-like grace and un-silent stealth
to pilfer your knit cap.

But I have been
smug and self-satisfied
all day with my
very own secret smile
shattering my once solemn face
because I know your hat is nestled
in the upside-down cone shade
of your living room lamp.

So, perhaps I am
Not as sorry as I
Pretended to be.




Survival of The Fickle

By Jessica Gleason

Around 2006 we run into my old boyfriend
in a theater lobby.
he’s smoking a cigarette and
has grown a beard. Surprised
to see me, he shakes my hand
and tells me he’s in the play. He
asks how I’ve been. I want to kick myself because
he’s all grown
up and gorgeous.
I open my mouth to respond.
He is walking
out the doors. Gone.
I forget what I was talking about.

Around 1983 my mother tells her mother she’s pregnant. Suffering,
silently hoping this will “change” everything.
I don’t like this story.

Around 2002 I leave home to move away to college.
Dad comes to help,
the first time we’ve spoken
in six years. He cries.
Asks if I’m okay. Hands me
a hundred dollars and takes off.
I stop talking to mom.

Around 1995 my grandmother dies. Parents get divorced and I
move to a different state.
Convinced my life is ruined until
mom sends me to Catholic school.
Then, I know it’s ruined.
I stop believing in god.

Around 2006 my 71-year-old grandfather goes missing.
Old men don’t just
Dissapear,
I guess I’m wrong. Friends pray for my loss.
I still don’t believe in god.

Around 1991 I discover my love for Nintendo.
After a few months,
I discover mom’s love
for Nintendo. She throws things
At the TV and screams obscenities.
I decide mom is cool.

Around 1993 my dad and I sing together when he returns from long trips
On the road. I have an affinity for the Chicago Bulls
and trampoline horses. Desperately.
I seek dad’s approval.
He goes on the road.

Around 1998 I graduate from middle school.
I tell my mother I support
Abortion. She cries. I tell my mother
I don’t want
to have children.
She cries.

Around 2005 I tell my mother I support Abortion.
She cries. I tell my mother
I still don’t want
to have children.
She cries.

Around 2006 I find out about my father’s secret family.
Older sister, Younger brother.
Dad never really went on the road... just went
to his other home.
I hate him.
I cry.

Around 2000 I have my first date.
With a tall gangly fellow named Bob. He has
clammy hands and very large glasses.
I don’t want to go. Mom says
I have to.
Don’t want to hurt his feelings.
After the date we never speak again.
He stalks me.
I should have stayed home.

Around 2003 I leave the dorms to move in with Dave and Acup.
My family disapproves
of male roommates.
I fall in love with Acup.
Lose my virginity and my heart
gets broken.
I move back in with mom.

Around 2005 I meet Blayne.
Skinny and attractive and living in the ghetto.
I fall in love again.
Do some good and take him out of a bad place.
We both move in with mom.

Around 2006 mom contemplates dying her graying hair
for the first time and frets
About her weight.
A midlife crisis, perhaps?
I think she is perfect. As is.




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