Stimuli has moved!

Go to cheriljones.com where you can preview my book CHAINS and see two new poetry blogs.

CHAINS collects poems and photographs into an exploration of the impact of violence across generations.

Proximity will continue to explore the events and characters of CHAINS.

Violations will be dedicated to my series of poems about and in response to rape.

Stimuli will continue as an evolving series of free-associative, in-the-moment wordplay poems.

See you there!

unbroken

As the day ends for some,
for others, just begun –
most caught between life’s dawn
and their own setting sun.

The dimming light makes change.
Why say “forever change”
when in this short word “change”
forever is implied?

Little Mommie,

poster girl for
crazy, today
(like everyday)
I think of you

with love – wonder
is crazy born
of misery
or vice versa?

Toasting the glittering nine -

aged twelve to seventeen (fine
and prime). Serenely surreal
(displayed and deprived) they dine
in inappropriate style.
Posed, composed, practiced, rehearsed
students/artists of beguile:
feel hallowed never hollow.

Be not emptied by façade
or broken by time (not a
price for you to pay). Focus
on truly glittering stars –
real if far away. Find fire
inside. Build and tend till you
find light in another choice.

unconditional

We ask for love – only love –
acceptance without judgment.
We judge – refuse to accept.
We break our own hearts,
hurt our own feelings
with our dreamy teary eyes.

We withhold, secrete, pretend.
We isolate our true selves.
We begin our search for love
in a stranger’s arms.
Don’t we ask too much?
We lie awake, leave early.

Don’t we dread an endless need?
Didn’t we invent Jesus
to spare us salvation’s debt?
Don’t we send dollars
and our best wishes –
easier than facing fear?

3 birds 1 suicide

She dragged from her bed,
sagged to the kitchen.
She sighed at the cat,
then sat with her flakes.

She had a headache
(always did lately).
It just never stopped.
So (flakes flushed) she dressed.

She moved in Dad’s house
after mamma died –
left her life (friends, job)
to cook, scrub, keep up
appearances while
he played, jeered, ignored
(like Earth’s turning or
leaves falling or death’s
shocking constancy
go mostly ignored).

She started her car
inside the garage.
Relaxed she waited.
Gas and time ran out.

Mike came in the front
dropped off after darts.
No smell of supper . . . .
(Right. No smell at all.

No reason to think
his cat might be dead
on the cool tile floor
or that his whole house
could still be filled by
lingering poison.)
Reclined he waited
watching loud TV.
His breath fell silent,
expired. The phone rang.

dearly departed

Put a candle in the window.
Raise a glass. Let but one tear fall.
Heroes (angels gone before us)
yet guide our way, answer our call.

Longing stirred by a humming wind,
faith restored in a storm’s gray light
remind us not to forget to
wake and make this day bright. Salute!