A Collection of Four Poems by J. Helles

Don't Feed the Animals;

I brought you up in therapy

Which is weird because 

I hope you never think of me

Or speak about my flaws.

I brought you to my therapist 

Well, I brought your name in my mouth

I brought your memories in my tears

Hoping once I did, they'd run out.

But instead of finally leaving

Or giving me the peace you'd never dare

I simply put those memories in tissues

And sank into my chair.

Because you don't think of me

Of course not,

Why would you?

That would be like asking a child

To think of an animal in a zoo.

They'd go

"Why there's so many! How do I choose?"

But the animal remembers 

being mocked by small shoes

And the animal remembers

The laughter and boos

And the feeling of strangers

Watching their moves

And the wishes and the witnesses

That had nothing to lose

But stood there and stared

And never did move.

But never mind analogies,

They never convey quite right

So...coming back to therapy

My hope is that I might

Sit inside this office

And finally let down my knees

And one day maybe 

Someday soon

I'll sit back and I'll think of you

The same amount that you think of me

Which is not at all.

Well, hopefully.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shadow Puppets;

I saw you in my shadow

On the wall of the station

I wasn't more than 10.

But you were taller

and bigger and bolder

Than I was way back then.

The shadow of my older self

Smiling from above

As I made puppets with her hands

And giggled full of love.

A man snapped a picture

And hung it on a wall.

That picture sold for millions

But I didn't care at all.

Because there's more to art than pictures

Of children standing timeless.

No the real art is the story

The story, well that's priceless.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The cat and the flowers;

I keep my flowers at the top of the fridge

My cats like to eat them,

Or try.

But I feel like it's cruel to keep them away

From the sunlight,

From the sky.

I forget to acknowledge their beauty most days

They sit above my eyes

But as these flowers begin to wilt

They also refuse to die.

Perhaps they wait in silent resolve

As they long to see the sun.

Or perhaps they know that,

If they died,

It's their battle that I'd have won.

Not because I want to hurt them

Or because they deserve a life

With no clear blue sky to sit with

And no sun to shed any light.

But because those cats that wish to eat

The lovely flower petals.

Were taught by the powers that be,

That they can spread harm,

Because we let them.

Those powers,

Being me,

Should completely understand.

When the flowers wilt with quiet resilience

But never break,

Nor bend.

Because the cats may never learn.

But the flowers hope,

In time,

That they will rest amongst the grass,

And finally see the sun

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

One Stormy Night;

When I was a kid I met Peter Pan

one stormy night in August. 

He came a knocking on my window 

saying "help it's raining on us".

I let him in when he explained 

that fairy wings can't fly in rain

and I got him a towel to wipe the scowl 

of a cold child off his face.

Tink took the blanket from my dolls

and jingled with delight. 

It's been so many years since then 

but listen, I'll tell of that night. 

We sat around some steaming coco, 

which Peter had never had, 

while he told stories of grand adventure, 

the good and the bad. 

He told me about his friends on Neverland 

the bravest and the meek

and I said something akin to

"Wow, you must have had quite the week"

We fought with sticks and Tink picked

fun at Wendy Darling. 

I thought how sad to lose a friend 

right when the sun hit morning.

Peter Pan pranced and Tinkerbell danced

as flickering shadows painted the walls

Looking back on it now

I don't know how I didn't dance at all.

I sat and watched the rumpus run

It's course that stormy night. 

But now I think I'd dance with Tink

and giggle with all my might.

At the very end he held out his had

and stood firm on my windowsill.

"The storm is gone, we have to run,

come with us! Fly for the hills!"

I didn't think hard enough that night

about the way things were without

my gleeful new friends 

and their jumps and bends

their twists and their shouts.

So I packaged his drink and waved to Tink

As I climbed into bed.

"Maybe next time" I said

A pillow 'neath my head

as I watched them both fly out.

I've spent most 

rainy nights in my room,

With coco and a towel.

Thinking of my adventures with

a wet boy with a scowl.

As I tuck into bed

I leave my window ajar

A view of the air, 

the stars.

The wind picks up

and just my luck,

The coco is still steaming warm,

I close my eyes and hope that my

friends are flying by

in the middle of a storm.