A Poem From My Heart

My sisters and brother.  (I'm a lot older now)

 A Poem From My Heart

Witty thoughts are wasted when I'm alone,
these days sisters and brothers far flung;
jobs, college, marriage.  I'm home alone

where middle school math provides scant revelry
and Mom has confiscated my cell phone,
says "You've been on too long"...

but I've no one to hang with.
Holidays I hear siblings retell stories
of escapades and experiences shared,

feel left out, long to have been a part.
Can't help feel sad, wish I had younger siblings.
I'm happiest when our whole family is together.

Often tear up, like I'm doing now;
think of how much I miss them. Being the youngest
often feels like being an only child.

My brother and sisters say they LONGED
for peace and quiet.  I long for their voices, their laughter,
just them.  Being a tribe, being... a family squished together.

Spencer Bednar, November 27, 2019

shared with the challenge from "Poets United - Midweek Motif - Longing"

My crazy, fun family - love when we are all together

Thanksgiving brought one sister home (two still live here but are gone a lot).  This Christmas most of us will be together - except my oldest brother and his wife.  They are in San Francisco - my brother is an actor in "Harry Potter and the Cursed Child".   He shows up on this video at #48...  I can't wait to go to SF and see him in this show!

My Nerd

My Nerd

A pocket-sized dragon sits on my finger,
lime green eyes blink, her nose flares electric blue,
and I rub her forehead; tame the untamed.

She purrs and toots (who knew girls farted!),
cries out with a sound reminiscent
of a whale's song.  It touches my heart.

I'm smitten.  I wear t-shirts to school
with dinosaurs, dragons, and mythical creatures;
ignore the chuckles of "popular" girls.

Am guilty of drawing said creatures
during class; look out the window, imagine wonders,
envision creatures yet to be discovered.

I might be laughable to those girls,
but Sparky, whom I've smuggled to class,
makes me happy.

So, I embrace my nerd, for that's my cool.

by Spencer Bednar, November 15, 2019

A poem for my Mother on her birthday.  

Buffalo Cove Field Trip

Buffalo Cove Field Trip

Twelve sixth-graders, two goats, three dogs,
camp guide.  For three days we ruled the wilderness.
Well, not exactly, but we survived.

Buffalo never roamed these mountains,
but surely bear, mountain lion, and fox;
we saw squirrels, birds and bugs...

and one lost bloodhound we named "Bob".
Our camp dogs ignored her; we were tired & hungry,
yet I wished I could have shared my food
when I saw her hiding in the brush.

The fresh air surprised me.  Deep breaths,
inhaled, swept energy through my veins.
Almost better than caffeine.  Almost.

No phones, no T.V.; we made rope.
Strips of bark, looped, twisted, overlapped.
I loved the repetition.

Stepped quietly, feet sideways, heel,
ball of foot, toes.  Learned to be silent,
melt into Mother Earth.

One for all, all for one.  We learned the hard way.
S'mores promised, but one boy kept talking.
Graham crackers, marshmallows, Hershey's. Gone.

Camp guide about to dispense the secret,
"How to keep warm."  Talking boy kept talking.
We woke up shivering. The next night,
we were overjoyed to discover "Quiet boy".

Happy to return home, yet sad to leave.
Mom and Dad groaned when I confessed
"My teeth were taking a sabbatical",
toothbrush found, unused.

by Spencer Bednar, November 11, 2019

My Puppies

My Puppies

by Spencer Bednar, 8-28-2019

They are the color 

Of a faded penny,

But worth so much more.

My Blue and Red, 

My puppies

Who look like chicken nuggets

When curled up in slumber,

Dance like snoopy 

When water is sprayed,

Love ice cubes,

And Mom’s yarn balls.

Become crazy cat’s cradles

Wound around couch, chair and table,

Puppies paws 

Not as clever as fingers.

Return from Fire Tower Trail,

Eyes still ablaze with adventure 

As I smolder and hit the couch.  

I love them, they love me, 

Their eyes begging, ears cocked,

Whimpering like there’s a weekend

Worth of homework in front of them

As I walk into school each morning,

The feel of their cloud-like fur 

Upon my cheek, 

Arms empty until 2:30 

When the bell reunites, 

And I’m the bacon

In a puppy sandwich. 

Goodbye Summer

Goodbye Summer

by Spencer Bednar,  9-18-2019

Last day of freedom,

the sky, a pale blue ocean above my head,

clouds lazily dog-paddling like fish

or like white swans floating upon shimmering water.

Last year, two swans begged for bread, 

king and queen of small island

at center of lake.  This year, 

I’ve only seen ducks…

which I chased, rushing and flushing them.

The picnic was my choice

not mom’s veggies and stuff, 

but Doritos, pickles and a sub

with meat, cheese, and mustard,

and a sprinkle of lettuce. 

Ice cold soda would have made it

…. perfect. But Mom packed

“nutritious” water.

Like the puppies, Dad was a toddler,

not wanting to go down for a nap.  

I felt happy as we were soon 

bombarding each other with blasts
of water-gun wrath, running around trees,

and rolling down hills. 

The puppies, leashed, barked

and cheered us on. Mom read magazines,

snuck a BBQ chip or two (possibly 64).

In every story, there is a close,

or there won’t be a new adventure.  

My new beginning began the next day.

Sixth grade.