Cold

It wasn’t a cool breeze like that on an evening in the Northwoods

But a fear- laden, icy attempt to freeze her own discomfort

She plays hide-and-seek with her bitchiness finding it in those

Convenient times when faced with reality of her past actions

I see her— she cowers at the thought of attempted healing

I know her— she shrinks at the thought of contrition

I’ve been there— that land of self pity

It is rocky, cold

No good can take seed and grow

Feigning comfort, she keeps herself wrapped

In a fluffy blanket of deception harboring her delusions

And only those that validate them

With her self-loathing she deceives

Not others as is her intention

Only herself

She is me before I soaked in the warmth of my flawed life

That now brims with love

Tricia Schwaba

An Ethereal Shout

Here I am standing— over 7 decades old
Wondering if I’ll clear all the hurdles
My pace has been steady up to this point 
And my dreams have yet to curdle

I know of others in this same class
That have fallen to their knees
Their hearts, their livers, or their wills give out
No longer able to appease

The terrain gets rocky at unexpected bends
Storms stir up after making tough amends
Must breathe into pain, stretch away from doubt
Finish the race with an ethereal shout

I know I’ll swirl in the freedom of knowing
Any nagging doubts were amiss
It was really about trusting my guts lead
And never shunning the bliss

The segments of my life well lived
Will travel well beyond me
I’ll climb onto the medal stand
As the Gold is laid upon me

Now I’m a free flying spirit,
No chains of humanity bind me
Will I move up with a cosmic thrust
Or will the next plane unwind me?

We’ll see

Tricia Schwaba, 2024

Where I'm From

I am from Chicago

The concrete bastion of the Midwest.

I am from Catholics

One whose faith withered one whose faith smothered.

I am from Sunday night political discussions

Hippies versus squares

I am from music

Ragtime, classical, rock’n’roll, opera

I am from limbs long tired and weary

Strong and persistent

I am from beer and marijuana 

Believing there are no obstacles. 

I am from doubt and hesitation 

Believing I can do nothing

I am from vegetarian creations 

And lamb cooking with mesquite. 

I am from softball, basketball

Golf, swimming & volleyball

Running bases, around the world

Bounce or fly and red light, green light.

I am from the clarity of the Northwood’s night sky

And the roots of the mighty pines

I am from reveling in the spring-fed waters

Of nature’s liquid healing

I am from red wine and potato chips

Cheese crisps, smoothies

I am from trampolines and dance floors

Back-flips and pirouettes

I am from the rhythm of the universe 

Tempting my lithe body into profound symbols

I am from love everlasting

& Eternal gratification.

Tricia Schwaba Poetry 

The Wisdom She Holds

Oh my God! My thighs they touch

How can one handle so much? 

The norm beloved, is space in between

One’s upper legs, you know what I mean.

This quest we’re on, this path never ends

The one that is dictated by rich white men.

They make the rules, create the solutions

The quick fix ones, offering no resolution.

But we buy and believe and believe and buy

Until we realize it’s all been a lie 

On that day seeds of freedom are planted

That’s the time that release is granted

Free from the grip of society’s norm

We travel with truth into the eye of the storm

To experience the peace that is blessedly bestowed

On the aging woman and the wisdom she holds.

Tricia Schwaba Poetry

I wrote this piece when I heard, not so long ago, that women (young or old apparently) are now being encouraged to be thin enough so that their thighs don’t touch. This bothered me as much as any of the other societal “beauty” standards that circulate throughout our society. We are all different, with different bodies, ideas and intentions. Let’s keep it real shall we?
Tricia