I'll Be Back (For Jill Eisnaugle)

My friend, Jill Eisnaugle, lives in southeast Texas, not far
from Houston and Galveston. She had to evacuate for
Hurricane Ike. She spent anxious moments in East Texas,
waiting for the storm to pass. Word arrived that although
her house sustained roof and chimney damage, the walls
and windows remained intact. She's back home now.
__________________________________________
... waiting. That's all that can be done,
until the word comes, you can go
home again. Do I have one or
not? Worrying: what do they know

and are not saying? Is it bad
or not? Looking at T.V., it
is. Can't watch, but unable to
turn away. Must see. Who got hit

and who didn't? ... Word came today:
house damaged, but have one. Could be
worse: rof and chimney is all, thank
the Lord. Think of the poetry

I'll have to write when this is through!
Hurricanes penned in perfect rhyme
and meter. Will be back as soon
as I can. Just gonna take time ...

(c) 2008, Karla Dorman

Two Sides to Every Story ...

...while others are running away, there
are those headed toward: chasers, to
warn of the approaching danger, who
film the storm's soundtrack, recording the
effect of surge and wind. Disaster
teams, doctors, nurses, those who have a
love for animals, firemen, police:
heroes, all, determined to meet the
needs of those impacted after the
hurricane passes. That's the good side.

And then there is the funny side: the
reporters, backs turned against the howl,
suddenly experts in the field of
meteorology. The are the
ones who take it on the chin, who do
unexpected variations of
"the wave" without meaning to, who fall
over themselves trying to get the
top story of the day from their lips
straight to our ears: that's entertainment.

(c) 2008, Karla Dorman

(Y)Ike!: Hear You Knocking But You Can't Come In ...

... first rainbands wetting us; the
wind not far behind: Hurricane
(Y)Ike! getting ready to beat
down the door. Not answering:
hear you knockin' but you can't
come in. Worse than one of
those salesmen selling magazines:
no one invited you. Go away ....

(c) 2008, Karla Dorman

Ike: Ragged Edge of Nervousness

... on his way, Hurricane Ike. His
edge peeks over the horizon,
bringing fear along with those who
have left in advance of the storm.

More expected. Already pounding
the coast with wave and wind ...
Galveston. Water over the seawall,
exploding high into the air. Oh,

Galveston! We're too far inland to
feel the surge, but our own in the
forecast: up to four inches of wet;
flash flood watches in anticipation.

Wind: hurricane force as close as
one county south; tropical, here
and elsewhere. 800 miles across.
Lot of storm before it's done: pray.

(c) 2008, Karla Dorman

9/11: Over The Years

9/11: Over the Years

2001: i cannot believe it

i just cannot
believe it...it
wasn't supposed
to happen...but
there it is...on
the t.v. set...
at first i thought
it was just a
movie...one of
those action flicks...
but this time the
explosions were
real...the horror
is real...awful
images brand
themselves into
my mind...i will
never sleep well
again...and i
can't believe the
twin towers were
attacked by planes...
the pentagon
was also hit...and
another plane
crashed short of its
target...this is
insane...it is hard
to fathom...i
can't believe it...
too many died...
innocents that
did nothing to
you...who should still
be here with us...
their families...
but you took them
from us and i
want to know why...
can't believe it...
someone's father...
someone's mother...
someone's brother...
someone's sister...
someone's children...
someone's friends and
co-workers...our
hero police and
firefighters...
missing...more than
likely dead...this
has touched us all...
buildings damaged...
buildings destroyed...
utter chaos...
devastation...
can't believe it...
i'll remember...
never forget...

2002: One World, One Minute

one world/one minute
all were affected by the events of that day
one world/one minute
excluded no one - the whole world watched in dismay
one world/one minute
we were forever united by tragedy
one world/one minute
affecting all nations, cultures...humanity

2003: Hear My Voice

i speak
for those who have no voice
i speak
for those who had no choice
i speak
for those who are not here
i speak
for those who cry the tears
i speak
for those whose loved ones died
i speak
for those buried inside
i speak
for the ones who were there
i speak
for those who still feel scared
i speak
so you will not forget
i speak
i
i
i remember it, yet

2004: Learning To Cope

i sit here, replaying it over
and over. i don't need the t.v.
to bring it all rushing back - once was
enough. it haunts my nights and lives in
my words, images and emotions
displayed. something i must write about ...

2005: I Still Fall

The sidewalks
rush up to meet me;
the sky
shimmers endless blue;
the canyons
echo with the names
as I fall
into rememberance...
and even
after all these years,
I still fall,
trying to forget.

2006: Nightmares, Revisited

Dark poems
interrupt the expanse
of blue skies;
falling like ashes, like
tears -
the beginning of pain.

Grey poems
are bruises of the heart,
deep seated
reminders of what we'd
give -
anything to forget.

White poems
interrupt the darkness
of slumber,
flitting overhead like
bats -
nightmares, revisited.

2007: Fear of Fallin'

... through air so cold,
so bit/ter it
heats on the way
d
o
w
n,
kept feet firmly
planted, r o o t e d
to solid ground.
K n e w where they were,
all times, all hours -
no surprises
to throw me off
the edge, screaming -
then came that day
in September:
not given a
choice: burn or jump.

Died, anyway:
man was not meant
to be a bird.

2008: Words Fail ...

Words fail ...

Images
burned
on
the
screens
of our eyes.

Memories
of
what
we
lost
linger.

Remember.
Words
fail
in
these
moments of ...

silence.

Storm Stew

She took down some cloud from the
shelf and folded the sky in two: one
half clear, the other clotted with wind

and rain. She stirred the whole thing
with a lightning bolt, until it thundered
---she vaguely remembered her Mom

telling her that it was when it could get
tricky. About that time, she heard a
sound behind her: it was only Daddy.

He sniffed the air and said, "Is that
what I think it is? Storm Stew?" She
pushed him out of the kitchen: "You

ruined the surprise! You've been
working so hard and I wanted to do
something nice." All of a sudden,

something flew past her ear and
stuck into the wall! Oh, no...her
mother's warning came back clearly

now: you have to be careful how you
stir, Daughter. Too little and it will boil
over; too much and chaos will result.

Either way, there's going to be a mess.
She, with Daddy in tow, ran back into
the kitchen. A tornado greeted them,

a BIG one, the largest they'd ever seen.
If it got loose...folks s t i l l talked about
'96 like it had happened only yesterday.

And that's why they hadn't eaten Storm
Stew in a while. Daddy took off his
coat (a prodigious size) and waved it

in front of the twister. She couldn't help
it: she began to laugh: what did Daddy
think he was, a bullfighter or something?

He was trying to shoo it back into the
pot, but it wanted nothing to do with it.
Besides, the tornado had other plans ...

(c) 2008, Karla Dorman

Don't Mind ...

Don't Mind ...

... the rain scenting the air with cool
refreshment, slaking the thirst of
parchedness. Don't mind lightning
or thunder putting on a display to
rival the 4th of July. Don't mind the
wind absorbing the stagnancy of
Summer heat. It's when they gather
forces overhead, with "War of the
World" skies, catching weathermen
off guard: it's when they toss hail like
softballs, when they drop a tornado
to ruin the afternoon...then I mind.

(c) 2008, Karla Dorman

Celebrity Status

...get rid of one, here comes another
to take its place. Lined up like dominoes,
waiting in the wings for their chance to appear
onstage. What is it they want? Front
page headlines in six point type? Breaking
news coverage on all of the TV stations? First
names so recognizable they don't need
last ones to know who they are? Photogs
hovering, even satellites getting caught up in
the excitement trying to catch a glimpse
of their eye? Tropical systems must have one
hell of an agent for all of the press they're getting...

(c) 2008, Karla Dorman