Nicole Tasker Woods

Color fills cheeks as the elevator pulls us up to the fifth floor
Leaving the chilly underground garage behind
And greeting the toasty office building
Shedding coat and purse and slumping into desk chair
Efforts to remove the rose from face

Donut Shop Coffee flavored caffeine from the Keurig
Brings warmth to entire body as I smell the murky mixture
Of dry creamer and brown liquid being stirred
I take a sip and the color returns
Retrieving compact from red&white stripped sailor’s purse
To mask the blushing effect I can’t escape in the mornings

The flowery, red blouse I chose to wear today
Has fluffy puffy sleeves and they flitter in the air conditioned breeze
Leaking from the vent above desk
And yet again hot has turned cold
The rosy cheeks have transformed to fleshy pink

Those movie stars who wear dramatic red eye shadow
Carry it better than I ever could
Or maybe they have professional make up artists applying the powder
Which is why eyes look like I’ve been crying
When application of the flushed shade is complete

Copyright © 2008 N.E. Tasker

The lucky one
The only one
The luck for one
Is no luck for another
Movie and Cadbury
Double-deckers
Sparkling lemon water
Back row
Feet on seats in front
Candy bars in cup holders
Cell phones off
Shoulders touch
Lights go down
Trailers come on
Green screen bounces
Off faces tilted up
Pause life and enjoy
Ninety minutes of escape

Copyright © 2008 N.E. Tasker

Going home is a real treat for me
The night before I fly is filled
With angst and anticipation

I look forward to arriving at airports
And going through layovers
Even the late night departures
Do not bother me that much

I sleep through most of the trip
Or try to read and make time fly by
As I fly over the states

Here I come New Hampshire
I am making another visit
I know that you have missed me
Do not worry, I will be there soon

Copyright © 2008 N.E. Tasker

I break the law every day…
Steal, cheat and inflict pain.
I violate the unwritten laws every week…
Lie, covet and deceive.

I can not refrain from taking
What is not mine and wishing the authorities
Would let me go on my merry way.

Without evil, there would be no good,
I am a savior to all the decent folk in this world.
You can not change who I am
Or what I strive to be every day of my life.
There is no changing, no becoming a better person…
I sold all those chances to the Devil
For a double cheeseburger and a side of fries.

In and out of jail, the brick and bars do not phase me;
Nor do they transform my frame of mind,
Despite what all of you think.

Putting my hand on the Bible
Means more than zilch.
This oath you think I have taken…
Swearing to tell the whole truth
And nothing but the truth
Is just one of the many lies I have told today.

Copyright © 2008 N.E. Tasker

…will keep the munchies at bay.

At least that is what I tell myself
As I sit at my desk at 2:35,
Waiting for 4:30 to roll around.

My iPod is singing a random mix of
Elvis, Wallflowers, Trace Adkins
And the occasional selection from the
Pure Moods CD that I bought from
An infomercial when I was 12.

My co-workers are busily clicking,
Surfing the net just like me.
We all pretend to be furiously busy
But if a passer-by were to take a peek,
They would find:
IM chats blinking,
Email checking,
Ebay buying,
And articles being read…
…some noteworthy CNN.com pieces
And some not-so-worthy TMZ.com gossip-blogs.

I stick a piece of gum in my mouth,
A sick attempt to make my stomach think
That it is being fed.
When in reality, dinner is still hours away.

Copyright © 2008 N.E. Tasker

My ego is struck with piercing words
That just as soon draw blood
And ache the way
A knife, held by your gaze,
Would pierce my skin

You can see my face
But do not know what lies beneath
And you could never understand
Why I return your glare
Without a tear from my eyes

The tumultuous skies
Churning in the distance
Reflect the bloody truth in being
Desolate, harmful, wicked
Yet I still do not flinch

In forward motion and standing still
It is I who is free to explore
All that my future holds
And you are the one
Destined to be mounted

Copyright © 2008 N.E. Tasker

I have exhausted all efforts to surf the net
And wait for time to pass more quickly.
Nothing left to do and still
An hour left in the work day.
The endless possibilities of the weekend
Come to mind as I daydream about…

Crumpled bed sheets made overly soft
From constant lying, rolling and curling.

The warm, inviting smell of sleep is palpable.

Spongy feather pillows fluff under flopping heads
That fall hard when the world has quieted.

My body yearns for sleep as it sits propped
In a desk chair on wheels.
Aching muscles are ready to rest
When the long-awaited nighttime snooze arrives.

Copyright © 2008 N.E. Tasker

Broken finger nail, fixed with acrylic

Polished pink while awaiting re-growth

* * *

Polaroids on shoe boxes

Save space in over-stuffed closets

* * *

The picture of family

Lethargically develops on McAfee Ct

While puppy paw prints

Press on freshly fluffed bathroom mats

Fine black hairs scatter carpeted floors

And hide between bedroom sheets

* * *

A long jog through heat filled air results in

Dragging a stationary basenji

As she lies in the shaded grass with

Legs stretched behind her, as long as she can go

The unruffled blades of green tickling her tummy

In efforts to stay cool in the 90 degree weather

I won’t go home without you

Maroon 5 descends from ears to stomping feet

As I slow to a stop and lean over

Hands on knees to catch my breath

She looks up, eyes squinting in the sun and smiling wide

Tongue flopping up and down, side to side

I reach my hand down to stroke her forehead

She rolls to one side exposing her belly

Silently asking to be rubbed, caressed, tickled…

…anything but dragged one step further.

Copyright © 2008 N.E. Tasker

We cleaned out our garage to make room
for a second refrigerator and oh, the crap we found.
My car’s trunk is now filled within an inch
of not being able to close the door…
shoes, clothes, belts, hats, stuffed animals, bedding…
it is all destined for Goodwill donation.
Our garbage cans are full of out-dated
cleaning supplies with faded labels from which it is
nearly impossible to discern what they are used for.
The walls, for the first time, are becoming bare,
as large items are being reorganized or removed.
Our shelves are now neatly stocked…
paint cans, colorful storage bins,
Christmas decorations, tool boxes…
everything fitting in its own place.
Even our cars seem to glide more freely into their
respective spaces and drivers’ side doors can be opened
without tapping the wall or car to the left.
It is amazing how sucking it up
and tossing the things you truly do not need
will make life a little less crammed.

Copyright © 2008 N.E. Tasker

The lights are out,
but the glow
from underneath my door
illuminates select items
around the room.
I can’t see it,
but I know it’s there…
a Snowball sitting
tauntingly on my bookshelf.
It’s begging,
from the darkness of the far wall,
to be released
from its cellophane.
My eyes forget to blink
as they focus on the dark,
and try to envision the sweet dome.
Racing thoughts of
beach vacations,
bikinis and tan lines
fail to avert me.

The coconut will be crunchy
come tomorrow;
the marshmallow will harden
overnight;
the hidden chocolate cake,
shielded by these
colorless sugars,
will take longer to grow stale,
but why take the chance?

Junky calories
resonate from underneath
fluffy cream filling…
my ears strain
to resist what can not be
muffled by plastic wrap–
hostess hostess hostess.
By the invasion of hallway lights,
my fingers become thumbs
as they frantically rip the wrapper,
shoving 6 fat grams
into my mouth
with three swift bites.

Copyright © 2008 N.E. Tasker

On January 11th
The puny, fake tree
Is still twinkling
In the receptionist area where I work.
Depressing ornaments still hanging
From weak limbs above a tattered
Skirt around a plastic base.

I consider the sky
Uncertain if it should be blue or cloudy
This deep into winter…

In California, this season is less dismal
Than in New Hampshire or Mass;
Both former homes of mine.
I do not miss waking up early on a crisp,
Bright, wintry day
To push heavy flakes off the deck,
Then shovel them to the edge of the drive
So Uncle Danny can plow
Ten foot high drifts of dirty snow.

Or leaving the dorm in my PJ’s
With a tray from the dining hall
So that I can slowly lift
Corrupted fluffiness
Up and over my head
From the space in the student lot
That I am certain is my parking spot.
This sweaty attempt to find
My tiny, white VW cabriolet
Exhausts all limbs, causing me
To overheat in the chilly outside air.

During these mindful escapes, I stare
At the lit up numbered buttons
Counting down to my car.
Making my way to the parking garage
With a multitude of my peers,
Anxious to start the weekend,
Is a much anticipated journey
As I dream of sleeping
Past 5:50 tomorrow morning.

Copyright © 2008 N.E. Tasker

In the mornings, she fancies
A brisk walk in the ivy, low to the ground.
Her footprints staying hidden by the carpeted mat
As she daintily chooses each step.
She then sniffs along a cement path that curves
Around front stoops to a fence in the back…
Where she can see everything going on down below.
The path along the fence opens up to a cul-de-sac
That she crosses in a graceful trot.
She hops over rubber plants and carefully
Enters the forbidden rose garden
That is filled with dew-soaked, yet fragrant pink pedals.
As she weaves between the flowery bushes
She warily avoids thorny branches and combs the woodchips
With her snout to discover an unknown scent.

In the afternoons, she is game for a three mile trot
That stretches her legs and fills her tummy
With an abundance of fresh air.
As she walks down the street,
On sidewalks and bike lanes,
Her head is tilted up to the cement walls:
Her ears smooth back into Full-Stealth-Mode
As she becomes a cunning con contemplating
A leap to the other side.
So light on her feet, she slips past houses
With dogs in backyards and none of them the wiser.
She dislikes pine needles immensely
And prefers a jagged weave around each pile
To prevent crunching them with her matted paws.
One wrong step and her lovely gait
Transforms into a three-legged hobble
As her foot is stung by a thorn hiding amongst needles.

In the evenings, she wrestles, nipping fingers,
Swinging rope-toy, looking for constant attention.
Get her riled up and the crazy-switch
Clicks –ON– scoot – scoot – scoot
Upstairs,
Downstairs,
On couches and coffee tables, from bed to bed,
Then on the floor with tail straight in the air
And paws stretched out in front as she is ready-to-pounce.
Her tongue hangs out of her mouth and to the side,
With eyes wild and waiting for you to make the next move.

After dinner, she lounges on couches
Resembling nothing at all that is disastrous or destructive.
While lying on her back, tucked in between
Cushions and pillows, she drifts off to sleep
With paws dangling above her and toes fluttering…
The product of puppy dreams.

Copyright © 2008 N.E. Tasker