As a writer and poet, I see and strive to describe
things, situations, people, and life
differently, thoughtfully, hopefully with great sensitivity
and truth
the poem, or writing, providing a descriptive understanding, or analysis
of an observation, situation, person, place, thing, or experience,
so that many people can take that
and relate to it, with reference from their own perspective, experience, feelings,
to surmise their own clarification and meaning
of a shared reading, for their own digestion
of understanding or comprehension.

Over half of my life years and thousands of experiences and emotions, I have shared with my friend, who went on to complete her infinite cycle this week, without me. This poem is in remembrance of her, dedicated to her memory, my Roberta.

"Roberta"



“Roberta” is a word, a name we know,
illustrated in cursive style, flowing beautiful
yet not without it’s sharp and sudden curves;
in printing, bold and hearty, strong and solid.
In history, feminine, alluring, and beguiling,
yet strong and defending, staunch and ready.

“Roberta” is a name which is not overly utilized in labeling,
yet when it is used in every day life, we tend to shorten it,
thus minimizing it’s full, more complicated, more difficult,
true beauty;
in order to make it quicker, easier
to pronounce and enunciate;
cut short to “Bert”,
thus changing, making common,
easier to deal with
for ourselves, reflecting our own issues.
Lost in our own difficulties,
a beautiful, more complex moniker,
to a simpler, less complicated, value.

“Roberta” is a person we knew,
like the moniker, like the label,
thoroughly beautiful in her
“God-given” form, her heart;
beauty that goes deep in life’s flowing,
as the winding cursive strokes across the pages
in the book of earthly life.

But again, the difficulties in
taking the extra time
to enunciate, roll her around in our mind, pronounce, and edit,
working harder to understand
the three-syllables version,
we surrender lazily, tired of dealing with it,
reducing for our own benefit and comfort level
to a simpler, less complex,
easier to swallow,
one-syllable, limited and simplified “Bert”;
losing her distinctive beauty
in exchange for our own ease.

“Roberta” was, is, and
will forever be—
like the rest of us,
a product of our environment,
a student, now graduated from
the “School of Hard Knocks” in World City, Land of The Living.
Sometimes mislabeled, overlooked,
minimized, not recognized or understood fully,
even to herself,
sometimes a stranger, foreigner
to “common” or communal thinking.

“Roberta” was the proverbial dreamer,
planner, schemer, thinker,
her brain ever-processing ideas, situations, concepts, strategies, cures,
to help herself and others.
How ironic or calculated, planned, pre-destined, or coincidental,
is it then that,
the very essence and blood
that drove her heart, brain, and life
would be the final drop
that would bring her tumultuous journey on earth
to a sudden halt,
while at that very moment,
jumpstart a new, peaceful and blessed, satisfying
journey home?

God Bless her soul forever.