Five Poems by Nancy Machlis Rechtman

 

Inside the Waterfall

Looking for answers

To questions impossible to ponder

I need the world to stop

Just for a moment

So I can take a breath.

 

I find myself approaching the waterfall

Seeking the pounding rhythm

That might make my mind stop racing

Wishing I could crawl inside

And wash the pain away

So that it stops consuming everything in sight.

 

Every day

It’s getting worse

And I search for a reset button

So that sanity might be restored

And there could be a blackout on the hate

That is leaving so many discarded like roadkill

With unbearable levels of noise engulfing them

So that no one can hear them pleading for another chance at life

But the puppetmasters

Vociferously deny that anyone is speaking

And they continue to drown the rest of us out. 

 

Origins

Her origin story

Was hidden carefully

And wrapped up tidily

In a neat little box

That no one ever knew about.

 

But sometimes there were

Barely perceptible dents in the corners

Where the frayed ribbons strained to push their way out

Like mutineers

Thrusting their way towards freedom.

 

After a lifetime of learning to mask

The pain and hurt that she was constructed from

And all the tears that had found shelter

Behind her perfectly formed smile

Panic would smother her at the thought

That one rip of the deceptively cheery tissue paper

Would change everything

Bringing to light the memories of events

That had once destroyed her.

 

A sudden shift in the universe jolted through her

Shaking her awake to the fact

That it was time to discard the power the echoes still had over her

And accept the strength of her own heart

So she yanked at the ribbon

And shredded the tissue paper, tossing it into the air

And as the confetti rained down on her

She tilted her head to search the sky

For the flecks of light

That could lead her home.

 

 

It’s 2:00 AM

It’s 2:00 AM

Again

In the endless echo chamber

Where she resides at night

And she knows she should go to bed

But her body is mired in quicksand

Unable to move

Since she knows she will be facing one more night of emptiness

And a bed that’s as welcoming as an unlined coffin.

 

There is no consciousness of walking down the hall

Or changing her clothes

Or lying down

With only a shiver of moonlight peeking through the gauzy curtains to light her way.

 

Eventually, she stops feeling around for her phone

As she wonders how many hours she has been staring at the ceiling

Fruitlessly searching for relief

But at some point she falls into a restless sleep

And when she opens her eyes the sun is struggling to rise above the clouds

And she thinks there might have been dreams

But not the dreams where happiness is dangling so close to her lips

That she can taste it

But dreams where she strains to breathe

Gasping like a carp thrashing around on the bottom of a battered old boat

And she only stays there to get away from the mocking thrum in her brain

And the tears that dampen her pillow.

Heat on the Big Screen

In the movies

Heat

Is so much sexier

Than in the real world

Kind of like everything else

Even when it’s in black and white

The film opens with the sun

Blazing unrelentingly

Onto the streets of a small town

With only a porch fan for relief

And the sultry female star

Reclines on a lounge with her face perfectly made up

And there is a single bead of sweat

That slowly travels down her neck

To the first button of her blouse

Where it hovers undisturbed

While the tanned and muscled male lead

With his piercing ocean-blue eyes

Stares at her thirstily

As his skin glistens from the

Damp drops that cover his perfect frame

Without moving

And he licks his lips.

 

Then his eyes meet hers

Like a solar flare

And we can feel their hearts racing

Along with our own.

And then there’s a closeup

Of the softly whirring fans

But we know the oppressive heat is too much

For any fan

Or even the icy glass of lemonade

She is rolling gently across her neck

Until he grabs the glass and brings it to his lips

And he drinks her in.

 

She sits up languidly and moves towards him

Like a cat

And despite the fierce glare of the sun they come together

In the heat of desire

And they look so flawless

That we can all agree

That if the heat wave we’re broiling in

Was anything like what we’re watching on the screen

Real life wouldn’t be so bad after all.

 

Untouched

She sits at the edge of the world

Where the waves creep deceptively up to the shore

Their tendrils almost reaching her legs

But stopping just before they can coil around her like a snake

And drag her down to their depths.

 

Her arms are wrapped tightly around her knees

And she rocks back and forth trying to find her way

Across oceans and mountains

To where it all began

And to where she now belongs.

 

But in spite of her efforts

The sky blackens

As the storm brews inside of her

And the hurt churns until she can’t contain it anymore.

 

She jumps up

And the squall almost knocks her back off her feet

And she fights her way across the sand

Hoping to find a map

That she can follow

But when she takes shelter behind the dunes

She turns to find that the breakers

Have eliminated any sign of her footprints

And all that is left

Is a blank page.

Nancy Machlis Rechtman has had poetry and short stories published in Your Daily Poem, Writing In A Woman’s Voice, Grande Dame, Impspired, Paper Dragon, Fresh Words, The Writing Disorder, Discretionary Love, and more. Nancy has had poetry, essays, and plays published in various anthologies. She wrote freelance Lifestyle stories for a local newspaper, and she was the copy editor for another paper. She has had several stories published in Highlights Magazine for Children, stories published in several other children's magazines, plus she has had several children's plays and musicals both produced and published. She is a member of SCBWI.  

She writes a blog called Inanities at https://nancywriteon.wordpress.com