Favorite Kind of Poem to Write

Howdy! I apologize for the delay, I let my domain name run out unknowingly, whoops!  I don't know who painted this lovely, but the colors and textures remind me of dreams (all kinds).


Favorite Kind of Poem to Write

This is NOT My Favorite Kind of Poem to Write
Because I don’t know where it is going.
But there are curiosities that want witness,
Big curious things like a woman whose marriage fell apart
because her husband couldn’t live with her clutter,
all over their house colorful baskets perched,
many with the tags still on.
And medium curios,
like a family who barely communicated.
One day the dad joined the daughter
on the couch while she played video games.
From the kitchen the mother started singing hymns,
while they gamed the daughter and father joined in.

This is my favorite kind of poem to write.
Because what needs to find home, eventually does.
What needs to be elevated, will.
For me it was a TSA worker at a busy airport
who after checking my ID
directed my beau and I to the shortest line
with the flourish,  “Show em how its done,
show em how its done!”
We must say it once a week, my guy and I,
about once a week he exalts, “Show em!”
about once a week I do.

What is the meta purpose? The theme?
Something about hunger.
And safety.
We must never underestimate two, three
even four degrees of separation.
The stories in the opening paragraph are not mine,
they were told to me by a friend
yet I internalized them,
named them Misfortune and Hope.
Let’s show each other how to,
how to fill our empty baskets with hymns,
let us colorfully gather,
our clutter, our emptiness, 
lead me as I sing you into being.

This poem wants me to recall a dream,
a recurring one about rabbits.
Always too many of them, dozens of bunnies
I forgot to feed, always a petting zoo kind of feel.
Two attached their teeth to my elbows needing meat.
Of course you do I thought shaking them off.
For the first time, before guilt
knotted its rough scarf around my throat,
guides appeared to ease my nocturnal neglect.
Two sheep, one on either side,
resolutely herded me toward the exit.
They were noble and steadfast,
so gently, so assuredly, they flanked me.