Papa: “The Awaited Guests Arrive” and Other Poems by Lisa Bullard

Time

I used to think of time as flowing forward

relentlessly marching forward

never to be snatched back

or bargained back

even with good deeds or repentance

 

but in my own mind time travels backwards

again and again

to times I crave forgetting

to people who hurt me

even to times I feel deep in my DNA

but cannot place on my tongue

 

at night especially I fall backwards

tumbling through time

in the wrong direction

back through history that is my own and is not

behind closed eyes and closed doors

bending the laws

of time that were laid out

that say time moves in one predetermined direction: forward

 

You’ve Got to Have a Plan

for when your burned-out flame finds you

because he thinks the stars you wished on

together

the dreams you whispered

to one another

meant that you were meant for each other

forever

 

he thought the poems he wrote

would be the only poems

you would get

from a lover

 

you loved him

 

you’ve got to know what to do

if he shows up

and thinks you owe him

 

you once nurtured him

the same way you nurtured

a new kitten who lost his mother

 

you’ve got to know

how far you would go

you’ve got to got to got to

have a plan

have a plan

have a plan

A Flashback

time clutches me

with a sudden grip

 

one second I wait for sleep

and the very next: NO!!!

but I can’t stop the assault

on my mind as he looms over me again

and I am powerless again

 

raped

again

terrified paralyzed

I leave my body again

and return again

 

seconds pass trapped in the memory

but the anger stays raging

and the shame

I want so bad to shake

 

and I lay awake

feeling betrayed

by time and my mind

 

You, Papa 

Standing by the bank of the Birch Creek

I stoop down and

dip my hand into its icy current

and the water moves past me

I can’t hold onto it

I think of you, Papa,

I struggle to grasp you

but again you slip away

and I knew you more in my mind

than not, you always left

away to Texas, away to Nevada,

away to Alaska

you look different from every angle

and when you arrive

you slip through my fingers again

and the slap of my expectations

sting

and I try

to please you, to be your girl

and oh how you are proud of me

but you forget birthday after birthday

you miss most of my plays

you aren’t there to screen my dates

but you took me fishing

and we laughed together

and you baited my hook and gutted my fish

and fried it on the fire for our dinner

and I cling to that memory

rolling it in my hand like a smooth stone

but then you leave again and again

you’re always leaving

then you drink too much again

you come late to my wedding

and you leave early

and we don’t dance a father/daughter dance

but you give me a plaque you made

when you were a little boy

a homely looking plaque featuring a hand-painted hunting dog

and I hang it, cherished, on my wall

 

  

I. Papa: “The Awaited Guests Arrive”

doop-doop-dee-doo

A little tune for you, dearest dear dear dear

dear daughter . . .

oh, okay, so I’m a little just a little drunk . . .

hee-hee-hee

but just hang on, sit tight

and CHECK THIS OUT!

Wooo-eeee! Jeff gave me this harmonica

tonight! See! We drank a little whiskey

to celebrate YOU coming for a VISIT!

Oh you know I miss you kids!

doop-doop-dee-doo. Ha ha ha.

And here’s a little tune to you

my son-in-law, son-in-law

doop-doop-dee-doo

Can you tell I just played harmonica

For the first time in my life TONIGHT!

Wooo-eeee! Am I glad you’re here.

I LOVE you two! You know that

don’t you? Woweee! I love you!

doop-doop-dee-doo. Ha ha ha.

 

II. Daughter: “Cotton Candy Land: It’s Where We’ve Always Lived”

the words are

stones in my belly

stuck in my throat

sand in a pipe

and damned if I’m going to let them out now

 

I feel like I’m three years old again and I don’t want to be!

This brings back too many memories. I can’t laugh because it’s not funny to me.

I love you, Papa, but I can’t be around you when you’re drunk. I’m leaving.

 

we don’t do that in our family

we carefully look away

we forget what we saw

when we remember, we pretend

that we don’t

 

it’s all cotton candy for us

everything is okay for us

sweet soft and fun for us

 

if we can just stuff enough

cotton candy in a volcano

maybe it will turn into a candy land

if we can just get it right

 

and damned if we won’t try

 

and damned if we won’t go crazy trying

 

I tell myself to lighten up

it’s just a fun time dammit

I can laugh myself back to cotton candy land

 

“Ha Ha Ha! That’s so funny, Papa! Ha Ha Ha! Wow!

What a frickin’ musical genius! Ha Ha Ha!”

 

Lisa Bullard has written ever since she could. She was raised in Montana where she was once bucked off a horse and didn’t get back on. She now lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and two children. Before having children, she travelled around the globe on a shoestring, and since children she has found a new appreciation of packing snacks and a change of clothes for all excursions. Besides writing, she enjoys snowboarding, hiking, canoeing, and binge-watching shows while folding tiny items of clothing. She has taught writing courses at colleges and universities in Washington, Montana, and New York.

 

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