Five Poems by Nancy Machlis Rechtman

 

Answered Prayers 

 

Sometimes 

What you think you want 

More than anything in the world 

And the things you would give 

Anything for 

- Maybe even sell your soul for - 

Believing 

You will find perfection 

And the answer to your prayers 

Because you manifest 

This scenario 

Every night 

Before you go to sleep 

And you beg 

And then you bargain 

And finally, you sob 

Because you know 

With all the certainty in the world 

That your life 

Cannot be complete without them, 

 

All turn out to be so 

Deceptively wrong for you 

And it can take years 

For you to discover this truth 

But once you do 

It’s too late 

Because by now you’ve traveled 

Too far down this road 

And hit the dead end 

That you thought you had escaped 

All those years ago 

And the moments you’ve wasted 

Lie sprawled across the unforgiving ground. 

 

 

Like a Picasso 

 

Word shards jumble like a Picasso 

And they make no sense 

Even as a whole 

Nothing fits 

Although it’s possible that bites of the truth might be there 

But how can you know unless they hurt? 

 

The jagged pieces 

Slash across the tattered canvas 

And it’s clear that the fragments 

Are not meant to stand alone 

But you have to claw through the chaos 

Blood dripping 

To find the connection 

And then the only way to see it 

Is to step back 

And wait.

 

 

Magic Once Filled the Night 

 

The sweet perfume of the yellow jasmine  

Draped across the landscape like a backdrop 

Fills my lungs with longing 

Bringing me back to a time 

When fireflies pirouetted across the night sky 

In a delicate dance of light and shadow 

Creating the tapestry that wove through the stars 

Like ethereal sprites 

They were magic. 

 

They would flit close to us 

In a game of catch me if you can 

Daring us to cage them in jars 

Where their lights would soon dim 

Until they were released 

And their freedom illuminated the heavens. 

 

Tonight I search the darkness 

Seeking the twinkling lights 

Of my childhood 

But the world remains enveloped in a black shroud 

And the absence of magic 

Suffocates the night.

 

 

High Five 

 

Attempting to escape from the sauna-like hell outside 

I approached the door of the ancient terminal 

Sweat dripping down my face 

Stinging my eyes like lemon juice on an open wound 

Dragging my suitcase behind me 

When a gnarled hand shot out 

“High five!” was the demand. 

I stared at the man on the bench 

I attempted a smile and reached to open the door 

“High five!” he repeated insistently like a mantra 

And now I saw him 

In his torn, once-blue T-shirt 

Faded black shorts 

With a stained khaki backpack 

Tossed on the seat beside him. 

I didn’t want to shove his hand aside 

But I didn’t want to high-five him either 

So I stood there 

And he started mumbling 

But I wasn’t sure how to respond 

Because he obviously wasn’t talking to me 

So I waited. 

 

“OK, high five,” I finally said with forced enthusiasm 

And he grinned and we slapped hands. 

I waited for him to move his arm away from the door 

But he ordered me to sit down, pulling his backpack off the seat to his left 

I told him no, I wanted to sit in the air-conditioned waiting room. 

And a scowl crossed his face 

I apologized and ducked past his arm 

And went inside. 

 

Did I want to get away because his conversations were mostly one-sided 

Or because of his shabby clothes 

Or because of the anger I sensed brimming just below the surface 

Or was it, as I assured myself, 

That I just needed to cool down 

Either way, I wanted to retreat 

To my comfort zone. 

 

When the bus finally came I opened the door to a blast of triple-digit misery 

Gratefully handing my suitcase to the man waiting to toss it  

Into the dark gaping hole on the side of the bus 

And I quickly found an aisle seat and sank down 

When I suddenly felt someone slam into me 

Like a runaway bull 

And then I heard the muttering 

Before I glanced up 

There he was 

Staggering past me 

 

Staring directly into my eyes 

Like a dare 

And I didn’t know 

Which one of us was supposed to apologize 

Since it’s usually me 

But this time I just shook my head and looked away 

Because really, what did I do wrong? 

I get so tired of apologizing for my existence 

Even when it’s been a survival tool I’ve had to use too often 

And, then I realized that not apologizing might be his. 

 

Soon his raspy voice 

Finally faded away 

And I nodded to the person sitting next to me by the window 

Then took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

 

 

I Believed in Love 

 

Sometimes 

I am a stray dog 

So grateful for the scraps 

That are tossed my way 

Offhandedly 

With barely a glance in my direction 

When I am fed 

From an empty bowl 

Because I believe that is love. 

 

And the times when I am not kicked in the face 

Or abandoned in the street 

But I am taken into a home 

And sometimes even given a bed 

I try to be perfect 

So they won’t toss me out 

Since I believe that is love. 

 

I shrink against the walls 

Hoping for kindness 

But I’ve learned 

That sometimes it’s best 

To be invisible. 

 

When I am noticed 

I automatically do all my tricks 

To make them happy 

Keeping me safe for awhile 

But in the end 

I find myself discarded 

When something better comes along 

Because I trusted when I shouldn’t have  

And I am all alone again 

Left out in the rain 

Yet I still believe that is love.

 

 

Nancy Machlis Rechtman has had poetry and short stories published in Your Daily Poem, miniMAG Writing In A Woman’s Voice, Impspired, 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