a knotty memory squats
thick-bodied and stubborn
into an uneasy resting place,
that hush-hush corner
of a cheerless, simmering discretion
enduring a sightless silence
sacrificing equanimity
for a homespun healing
wanting to forget




© Anke Hodenpijl October 23, 2017





I mourn like uneasy, sooty ash
wallowing in a sea of bitter smoke
uncertain and agitated
chased by the embers of what was

My grief is a slow, not yet sacred, sadness
discomforted by politically correct phraseology.
It seeks a place to land, while
still smoldering with what might have been

the slag of depression like a firestorm
grows gluttonous, eager to convince
an otherwise courageous heart
that hope is unattainable.

do not try to comfort me
with easy words

only sit with me
let me know
I am not alone


© Anke Hodenpijl October 19, 2017



Here, thunder explodes against
the clutter of a confused sky.
Dappled clouds trundle,
whirling with the grumble
of an empty storm.

The waterless landscape below
yearns for the prodigal tears
to inspirit a forsaken salvation,
with the promise of an unfolding rain.

Small breezes waft across rippled sands
leaving the dust of disappointment
to settle in the furrow of a parched thirst
hopeless, hot and heavy.


© Anke Hodenpijl 10/13/2017


Shall We Dance?

She loves to dance
to the music of the can opener
It’s a two-step
two to the right
two to the left
two bounces up
and a beat of the tail
on the old trash pail;
a well rehearsed jig
at times embellished
with a full monty spin

She does her own hokey-pokey
when the refrigerator door
is left askew
you put one nose in
and you take the hot dogs out
you push the whole head in
and take the whole ham out
you drool on the floor
and shake your head about
as you flap the slippery slobber out.

She’s crazed by the twist
at the tune of a door bell
squirming between legs
and half open door
to chase the neighbor’s cat
and then of course, the shout
oh the shout of victory!
She leaves me
bringing up the rear
It’s her loud bragging
that bothers me the most,
“Twist and Shout!
They let me out!”

“Hurry!” she yaps.
“I think I see a rock ’n it’s rolling!

“Wait!” I bark back,
“You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog!”

©Anke Hodenpijl October 9, 2017