Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Her Dome -- Poetry 2010

Remembering what happened at summer camp,
she had lost a dare and shaved her head…
everyone figured she was some poor kid
making a fool of herself or calling for attention.
The look on her parents face at pick up
was one of those priceless moments…
like a huge dose of caffeine, they shook
rolling their eyes to see this finished product
with sunshine reflecting off her hairless plate.
She had to risk everything, risk people

laughing at her; risk her parent’s wrath.
If she wasn’t afraid of being a fool;
If she wasn’t willing to fall down while walking;
she wasn’t acquiring survival skills on her own.
Since she wasn’t trying to impress anyone…
her self image didn’t need any help to improve;
emerging creatively was communicated
with precise simplicity from clothing choice,
room decorating, to artistic expression.
She definitely was “To thine own self be true”.
Now in her 70’s head shaved again but in need
of more energy if she was going to make it…


Morning Revival -- Poetry 2010

How is it after 7 am already?
That night’s slumber went by fast…
Morpheus left me puzzled, confused
Staring at my dim blank wall,
I'm happy for no apparent reason.
Ejaculated dreams spawned
an emotionally placated response…
Its unconscionable. I must think
of a reason or succumb to madness
after such circumstantial scenarios
burst from sleep into daily routine.



Stomach growled disapproval
Morning verbosity displayed
Desiring sustenance
Stifled with Virgo’s element
Allowing dawn’s supplemental dreams
Drifting, sorting, trying to connect
Characters, events, locations
Conceived in deep sleep
Birthed before first light
Convoluted in significance
Inconsequential projections
Vague cerebral retention
Nullifies significant details
Preventing prediction or prophecy


Trusted -- Poetry 2010

My deepest thoughts
My crazy fears
My worries
All that rattles through my mind
Never repeating anything
To another living soul
My words remain silent
Unless I choose to bring
Them into physical sound
Travel companion
Silent dedication
Always there for me
Until the last page is full


Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Mantra -- Poetry 2010

Morphing constantly shifting left to right
And back to middle, she allowed a little
Dreaminess into her life’s journey
Just enough to brush her spirit
With hope’s promise when all was dim.
Struggling with her ideals
Fighting obvious obstructions
She waged battle dodging wayward thoughts…

Sometimes her dance jerked spasmodically
Limbs flailing to her defense
Sometimes her dance was slow and filled
With purpose absorbed in calm routine
Sometimes there was no dance when
She collapsed in on herself weeping

Her voice varied from inner strength to inner
Weakness and everywhere in-between
Her song was pure and true
Her song was flat and boring
Her song was sad and broken

I should, I could, I would… her mantra
As she let life whirl around her pulling
Her closer to the black hole of nonexistence


Monday, June 28, 2010

This Morning -- Poetry 2010

In my dream
I realized
I was in a dream
Writing words to page
First thing in the morning
Struggling to wake
I repeated phrases
Over and over
Embedding them
In a dream
When I realized
I was dreaming…


Moved Home -- Poetry 2010

Ancient history… out of college,
BS in hand, I moved home.
Permission gained, I painted
the chicken free coop interior.
Garden tools in one corner, bare
Light bulb shone on washed windows,
Clean cement floor and an easel…
Radio in place, painting paraphernalia
Resided on worn plant stand;
A make shift studio, far from interaction,
It felt too isolated after a crowded dorm.
Dragging supplies, I stored them away…
Work took precedence, life hatched
With broken shell and bruises…
What if I had persevered?


First Choice of the Day -- Poetry 2010

I decided to sleep in longer…
Riding a caffeine rush tsunami
From an afternoon mug of coffee
I headed to bed at two in the morning…
I was wired staring indiscretion down.
Happy that my kidneys and bladder
Function well, I was not pleased
With the repeated verifications
Or was it the full moon that filled
My eyes with moonbeam grit…
Made it impossible to unglue lids
When bird’s loquacious morning chorus
Celebrated another summer’s day…
Mouth dry, tongue thick, my snoring
Serenaded the glowing plastic stars
Littering my heaven in morning’s light.


Lost Luster -- Poetry 2010

The moon is waning and so is she...
So disappointed - people let her down.
Stuck with an ingrained belief –
she was the queen of her little Universe.
It was a rude awakening to realize
she lacked foxhole people… those people
needed when the stuff really hits the fan.
Life was ending up looking like a section
of garbage filled creek without the benefit
of life vest, canoe, paddle or rear guards.
Life was loosing luster…
Fantasies beginning to fade…
A story of obsession, love, denial revolving
around rationalization which didn't mean
she was the rational one…
She felt sure about the horrors of being
alone; she constantly wore out friends
but didn’t see it that way; nothing was her fault,
her laissez-faire attitude was backfiring…
sure, things might happen for a reason but she
was not prepared to listen, open her mind,
learn a lesson, or moderate her behavior
that had escalated since her spoiled childhood…


Sunday, June 27, 2010

Right Hand Girl -- Poetry 2010

Total assistant to my Dad
He’d grunt, I’d hand him a tool
With trained surgical precision
Grunt… tool, grunt… tool
Dad’s right hand girl
a shadow stuck like glue
After he returned from work
After he woke up on the weekend…
Helping him make repairs
Helping him the vegetable patch
After being stuck like glue
To Mom during the weekdays…
Mom’s right hand girl
Helping her with house chores
Helping her in the flower garden
A tiny shadow mimicking attitudes
Of their lives for better or worse.


Past Love -- Poetry 2010

Inadequate in trust to accept love
Due to her tormented past
She hid her emotions away
Plastered a smile on her continence
Politely asked news of others
Vicariously enjoying their shared bits
about their sane meaningful relationships
Finding sanctity in remembering embraces
Holding precious memories of passion’s kiss
The kind that had once curled her toes.
She kept in mind the few loving times…
She kept in mind her new life
Free from physical bruises
Free from emotional pain
Free from mental exploitation
Free from manic marriage:
A relationship between two people
Who for a segment of time couldn’t live
With or without each other…


Predation -- Poetry 2010

Ghost thoughts float
Illuminating dark recesses
With pulsing neon distortions
Horrid events still potent
Reside completely in memory
With physical and emotional
Distress, pain, humiliation intact
Still retaining the ability to wreck
Havoc even though she labors
To contain them in solitary confinement
Wicked in nature, they plot escape
To reclaim their power
To renew their strength
To dominate her being
Chaos resurfaces paving the road
Drawing more distressful assumptions
Until taking a deep breath
Visualizing brilliant white light
She mental shrieks stop
Ceasing the internal chatter
Lessening their haunting
Withdrawing her attachment
Encasing self predation with light


Saturday, June 26, 2010

Crazy Weather -- Poetry 2010

The sun was out for a minute…
before being submerged
in a dark gray cumulus overcoat
making me think the weather
was turning disagreeable again.
The gray just got to me; first day
of summer marked 202 days
of part or full cloud cover…
I goofed on the sun thing,
Thinking I should duck running
for umbrellas when scarce sun appears.
Thinking a head fake might
trick the sun to come out and play…
I don't know, at best it would make
neighbors laugh about nasty weather.
Sometimes the simplest solutions
elude me. Maybe if I danced
and sang an ode to the infrequent orb…
I guess if calling forth the sun were easy,
anyone could do it in a matter of minutes.
Fickle winds nipped and tore
exposing blue patches rendering
glorious sunlight everywhere.
I was saved from being a deluded fool…


Friday, June 25, 2010

Intersection -- Poetry 2010

She stands at the place
where all her circles intersect.
Ripples from her center
Moving through time
Concentric rings
Invisible energy
Equally spaced apart
Surround her,
Support her,
Encompass her companions
Standing at the place
Where their circles intersect…


In Love -- Poetry 2010

After a short hiatus,
I’m back to being in love with you.
It’s a long distance affair;
Totally one sided I’m sure.
You pass me by without a glance.
I blend in with my environment:
At night, I dance with the stars
And bask in your reflection;
By day, I am reclusive,
withdrawn from your sight.
I doubt I’ll ever bump into you
My orbit is an impossible distance away
And there are others rotating around you
But I can dream, can’t I…


Moon Games -- Poetry 2010

Moon was resigned to play
Tag with clouds last night…
Soon bored, the clouds switched
To a prolonged stretch of peek-a-boo.
Moon hardly made any effort
As the clouds did all the work.
Drifting gauze filtered her light;
Ominous black ones blinded it.
Back and forth
Translucent to opaque
Finally tired of the game,
They streamed East dissipating
Over ragged Mount Rainier’s peak;
Moon moved Westward thankful they
Had lost their malleable grip; joyfully
Back to light, her silver beams brushed
Luminescent the Douglas Fir, Hemlock,
Aspen and fern strewn forest floor.


Thursday, June 24, 2010

Protection -- Poetry 2010

“I hope you wore protection…
I don’t want another baby with you,”
I said to my Ex after leaving a bedroom while
walking side by side into the main room of the cottage.
He showed little emotion, staring silently at me.
I remember noticing the old blue floor linoleum,
mismatched chairs around the cherry table,
the china cabinet and oak veneer buffet chest.
Relatives were talking; cousins dashed about;
summer breeze flowed in from the screened porch.
I am still pondering that dream sequence…
I can not rationalize that particular irrational behavior.
Why would I sleep with him again? Even worse,
Why was I saying I hope you wore protection?
This curious dream foreshadows visual corruption
between creator and threads of memory woven
together during a night’s sleep…


The Only Person - Poetry 2010

Why do I look to outside
sources for validation?
The only source is apparent…
Me, myself and I.
Who else knows my heart…
Who else knows my spirit…
Who else knows my desires…
Who else know my skills…
So why do I seek validation?
What link is missing that I don’t
recognize I already have this…
Where is self worth hiding?
I have to ferret it out.
That insight makes sense…
Mucking about to discover
a misplaced natural state of being;
discarding old concepts to uncover
a hidden treasure - my true spirit…


Progress Notes -- Poetry 2010

Umbilical chord to my past
Withered to obscurity when
My mother died years ago…
Disconnected from her memory
Bank, my first years triumphs
and failures went with her to the grave.
So often I wish I had asked:
Questions of when did I …
Questions of what did I …
All the firsts: sound, smile, roll over, sit,
crawl, step, word, sentences are lost,
I can’t recall them nor anyone else to ask.
When my daughter was born and going
through various growth stages,
I remember Mom telling me my stories…
I was extremely fast at crawling,
I’d carry a toy in my mouth
And dump it into the toilet…
How angry I was when she
washed my stuffed dog, hung
him by his plaid lined ears…
I sat under the clothesline waiting.
How she thought I had cut my mouth
only to notice all the tomatoes
scattered around me with one bite
out of every red orb in the basket.
I found notes she had written about my brother
But she didn’t have time when I came along…
Where do these memories go after death?
progress notes disintegrated with tissue, broken
down and irretrievably obliterated …


I’m going… -- Poetry 2010

I can feel it
I’m going to that empty place
The place that appears out of nowhere
Slips in without provocation
Sinks in without warning
Seeps into my heart
Dull ache of desire
Creeps into my being
Wringing me inside out
Collapsing positive attitude
Stifling a silent cry
Minute tears sting
Muscle cells spasm
Despair shortens breath
Clinching guts tightly
Gasping to inhale deeply
Physically shuddering
I shake off the need to be held


Wednesday, June 23, 2010

anyone up for vicissitudes? -- Poetry 2010

Trying to reconcile in my mind
who I am with who I want to be.
There’s still time for working on
the “be” part reducing arbitrary
choices brought on by the
vicissitudes of this journey.
I’ve been through plenty of what,
when, where, how and only
why has been illusive at times…
A leaf drifting aimlessly in wind
or floating down a street gutter
inundated with heavy rain,
I’ve gone with the flow as opposed
to setting and resetting clear goals.
Mine were always more nebulous…
Filled with home ec education,
pursuing friends bridal magazines,
50’s sitcoms of happy homemakers
and most women staying home…
motivated me to desire that route.
Not an easy thing to be so random;
Following in its shadow, I let life happen.
Not sure at this point if I have the strength
as I know what would it take to BE
who I want to be…


Tuesday, June 22, 2010

It's right behind you… -- Poetry 2010

Has anyone seen today?
It sort of slipped away when
I wasn't paying attention.
I don't know what I've done
or if I like what I've begun
but currently I’m enjoying my
avoidance behavior immensely.
What if I was wearing
completely different clothes?
Do you think that would
make it better? Dress myself
in a completely new style…
instead of paint spattered jeans,
raggedy T-shirt with worn sneakers:
I could create in floor length taffeta
gown with stiletto heels…
I could improvise brush work
in a kimono, sash, and flip flops…
I could cut and paste collage
in a herringbone suit and pumps.
I need a vacation from my mental
"vacation". I'm looking forward
to getting back to my regular
scheduled chaos that is my life.


Monday, June 21, 2010

Procrastination -- Poetry 2010

Wasting time in front of the computer screen again,
Its flickering beams suck me into complacency;
Adheres me to my chair for hours at a time.
Staring, staring pushing keys and moving mouse,
Numbing mind matter with an overload of trivia;
Staring, staring as time plods on avoiding sleep,
putting off dreams, floating in between comfort
and crawling agony that night energies manifest.
Facing a blank canvas is easier than facing
my blank bed’s wide empty cold landscape.
Laying on the edge of my dark universe, curling fetal,
tucking myself in mummy tight, I wait impatiently
for sleep to take me from this tortuous period:
The expansive ache to be wanted, to be an object
of someone’s desire, to be caressed, to be held,
to be loved… descending finally into sleep,
torment consumed until another night draws near…


Sunday, June 20, 2010

Fire Words - Poetry 2010

I kind of just let it go today
went with whatever…
trying to impress motivation failed
I wanted it too badly
might have to light words on fire
burn a message for help
in a candle’s impelling flame
encourage fire spirits
call the four directions
settle in with nuances
embrace the powerful
selective deafness,
dumbness, and blindness
fully wallow in agony over
ailing extinguished creativity.
Fire entity inflame my will
Ignite impediments
Reduce obstructions
In preparation for flaring
the embers of success…


Becoming Transparent -- Poetry 2010

Life had become opaque…
thick and sluggish
Life had become obtuse…
unclear and confused.
Life had become oppressive…
emotionally heavy and tight.
Thought processes needed
a qualified electrician
to update electrical work;
Simple tradesman to cause
sparks to fly precisely
integrating elemental circuitry.
Inspirational muse’s Light
illuminates my depths;
Its critical mass sustains
imagination, innovation,


Weather Report -- Poetry 2010

a four letter word
it starts with "R"
sick of the rain
sick of the gray
sick of the chills
sick of winter wardrobe.
I want shorts and tank-tops
I want to bask in sun’s warmth
I want a day at the beach
instead weather reports
are too dreary, too blah
too wet and gray…


Saturday, June 19, 2010

Eyes -- Poetry 2010

Look into my eyes
See what I see
Orbiting in space
Look into my world
Whirl and spin
With thoughts
Polished smooth
Valued gemstones
Faceted sides
With chips
Jeweler’s loop
Exposes internal
Fissured flaws
Fractures soon
ground to dust…


Light and Dark -- Poetry 2010

Moon gutted the shadows
Pushing her shining fingers deep
Into blackness’s vague forms
Pushing her luminescence to seep
Flowing onto undergrowth to earth.
Presumptuous glow subsides…
Clouds silently smother reflections
Absorbing them into it’s dense
Dust and moisture particles
Battle between light and dark
Won by interceding clouds
Displacing moonbeams exertion
To defraud night’s grim illusions


Without or Within -- Poetry 2010

All over this world
lives are beginning
lives are ending

An endless process:
physical reproduction
accidental destruction
or decaying with time.

Spirit world transitions
back and forth…
ephemeral into form
substance into the void.

All over this world
lives are ending
lives are beginning


The Waxing Moon -- Poetry 2010

Punctuates a point in the darkening sky…
a strange comfort in predictable chaos
complicating things in my mind as of late;
it seemed to appear with these reflections
and many ah ha moments connected in some way.
Realization left me standing there willing to embrace
that deep in my subconscious thinking, the moon had
nothing to do with my day going completely crazy;
the crisis of what has until now been hidden, deep
within memory has been unlocked without the pull
of moon’s gravity. I now believe chaos, in any form,
is highly over rated. I’m aiming for a middle ground,
somewhere between full speed blender and no power.
My feelings of interconnection with the source of Life
comes from meditation with precise simplicity
giving me the opportunity to creatively communicate
with my unwounded spirit healing my psyche in white
light as pure as waxing or waning moonbeams…


Convictions -- Poetry 2010

Having participated in several religious mutations,
I’ve moved away from organized religion, it’s hard
edged dogma, lack of acceptance of non followers,
discrimination policies, fanaticism, convictions…
Over time, I formed my own ideology, my own credo…
It’s quit simple – there it is – live simple.
Along with sharing, being kind, respectful
of people, animals, plants, land, nature in general…
I look for the little clues each day - mini miracles -
Pausing and catching joyous “ah-ha” moments:
the fact that a tiny seed can germinate;
light reflections or refractions forming prisms;
myriad of subtle to rich colors in my surrounding;
nature and weather in all their combinations,
contortions, and exhibitions from mild to wild;
uniqueness of individuals, culture, languages;
the ability to see, hear and express myself…
dancing to a different drum, singing praise,
walking gently on the earth leaving its beauty intact.


Mathematician and mystic Blaise Pascal, born in Clermont, France (1623) wrote a lot about religion and attempted to convert skeptics to Christianity. But he also said, "Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction."

Friday, June 18, 2010

Privacy Fence -- Poetry 2010

Between small independent worlds
Five foot tall privacy fences encase
Each miniscule back yard
Keeping dogs in
Keeping neighbors out
Cats walk its flat top
Raccoons amble its flat top
Squirrels cavort on its flat top
Birds strafe it occasionally landing
Some travel by day
Some travel by night
Patrolling shared territory
Divided by man made obstacles
Each with their own schedule
Preventing confrontations…
Exhibiting better neighborliness
than their human counterparts…


Thursday, June 17, 2010

Music Dribble -- Poetry 2010

In the background wall mounted
speaker relentlessly dribbles music
around walls, cubicles, ceiling, floor
invading complacent eardrums
unrecognizable tunes
steady mechanical beat
not toe tapping, not danceable
unnecessary threads fill hushed air
waiting room conversation murmurs
can’t overcome the insidious notes…


Have a Good Day -- Poetry 2010

Take a number, have a seat,
They’ll call you to a window…
Quiet repetition, steady mantra
Standing by the entrance
Armed to the teeth
The guard doubles as a greeter
His loaded leather belt creaks
Shifting his weight, left, right
His day’s greetings start at 9am
Saying his last good bye at 5pm
To an endless stream of applicants
Stifling a yawn, he shifts his weight
Left to right and back again…


Soggy Spring -- Poetry 2010

wetter, colder, grayer
breaking recorded statistics

amazingly seeds sprout
amazingly seedlings grow
brisk wind, hail tap dancing
can’t stop the determined drive
vegetable sprouts persevere
in spite of spring’s weather whims


Wednesday, June 16, 2010

calm sky -- Poetry 2010

sweet grass circle
swaying with car movement
dancing in air as I drive
woven braid scenting hot car air
memories of lying in tall grass
watching the clouds
ferry across a calm sky


Chin Hairs -- Poetry 2010

In our hairless society
of muscular oiled bodies
with no wrinkles on soft tan
chin hairs show up
during menopause
solutions include:
waxing, plucking, electrolysis
an inquisition of tortuous
means for removal
only to have more
spring up elsewhere
uninvited weeds on
a facial garden
determined to fulfill
their destiny as female
mustaches and goatees…


Words -- Poetry 2010

Amusing myself with words
good use of a waiting period
what will this appointment bring:
an end to short change,
official start date,
beginning of elder years.
all the official papers of a life;
permanently set in ink
start and end dates
within the cycles
of my first to last breath


Fun -- Poetry 2010

Workers scurry across
asphalt parking lot
coffee cups in hand
late again
slipping key into lock
opening another long day.
Why does fun end quickly?
Why does not-fun last forever…


An hour early Poetry 2010

Should have checked the business hours
Of, course 9 to 5: government hours,
Banking hours, once normal working hours.
So now I have an hour to kill…
How should I do that?
Maybe I can speed it up….
Most of the time it goes to fast.
like the years speeding by.
My Dad used to annoy Mom –
start of fishing season, cold blustery
spring day… casting our lines,
“feels more like fall, we’d better get the…”
Insert a chore that would prepare for fall.
It was if he was tying to wind the clock
Mechanism to tick tock faster…
So here I sit at sixty two and a half,
Wondering how I got here…
Wondering how time warped
so fast for me to be consider
collecting Social Security…


Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Fundamental Components -- Poetry 2010

My life successfully satisfies all the rules
of fine design: repetition, variety, rhythm,
balance and proportion, and does so with only
three basic elements: form, shape and value.
Although I take up space, appear in color, have
increasing lines, tactile and visual textures…
I wish my body type had an economy of style,
sparseness of material, and a graceful sculptural form.
I wish my balance was more 50/50 rather than 60/40;
I wish I could learn lessons and stop some repetition.
The variety is steady, rhythm essentially a backbeat
and penchant for proportion round off my composition.
There is an ambiguity when I begin paring down
a need for validation, a need for nurtured support,
a need for not being constrained by the facts.
This allows me to go deeper into my perceived truth,
discouraging attachments to past excavated artifacts
and encouraging me to be present, living in a fresh
way expanding this journey’s fundamental components.


paradox of being social animals -- Poetry 2010

Wish I had the ability to develop more
meaningful friendships. I do relatively
interesting things: teach, write, create art…
sometimes I feel pretty isolated which
I have to admit is my choice...
I don't want to change myself too much;
perhaps rework my deficient areas without
making a mess of my proficient ones.
I feel that a lot of potentially great friendships
remain undeveloped due to a focus on my creativity;
due to the invisible life time limit that is ticking down;
due to my rush to express visually and verbally.
The other extreme that I fall prey to when socializing:
Either being too reserved and not let people in
or giving too much info so that people turn away…
another curious facet, my genes and brain compel me
to be around people, but at the same time they can drive
me nuts pulling me into the misdirection of their current.
Think I’ll stick to my strengths and leave weaknesses
where they are – acknowledged but not amplified…
a happy medium of being in touch with people
but being able to dive fully into secluded studio time.


Imprinted in the Womb -- Poetry 2010

My son graciously endures her myriad
of life long mental and emotional disabilities.
Counselors work with her but she has a…
propensity for being self absorbed;
breaking promises; playing him like she
proudly proclaims she played others…
blatantly tells convoluted stories.
He says he knows its abuse
but falls into her charming side:
When she is contentiously contrite;
When she makes amends with gifts;
When she is full of eccentric excuses;
When she says I don’t want to talk about it;
When she is so loving the next time they meet…

It’s abuse, it’s like reliving your father’s
emotional, mental and ending physical actions…
always out of balance, I thought I was the crazy one.
I can’t go through this again, even vicariously.
How my son learned the pattern… I moved
out with the children before he turned two.
Did he internalize it in the womb?
The image so burned into my mind…
standing in the Oneonta, NY Brook Street house
window light pouring across a toy strewn dining room
his father handed me a record album, puzzled
I said, “What’s this for? What about last night?”
so I kicked you a few times…


Monday, June 14, 2010

Preparing the Way -- Poetry 2010

And a large number of unimportant
things began to disappear…
Clearing my everyday environment
of unused once important objects…
Seeing things for what they were -
visual three dimensional memories.
Moving 3,000 miles was the first big
cleansing of year’s of accumulations;
most were more of a burden than useful…
Only a few regrets of why did I leave that
and why did I bring this bounce into mind.
I’m developing an ignore button for my
thinking cap – one that self triggers if I get
the idea to start collecting more stuff…
I’m a bit more skittish when it comes
to purchasing objects to fill a void…
I understand the value of simplicity;
I understand that less is more;
I understand my desire for serenity…
Its never too late to focus on connecting,
sharing, building relationships…
Now here's where integrating being an adult
woman moving into her age of crone/elder
prepares her for transition with an open heart;
prepares her for passing with cleared mind;
prepares her for release from form to spirit…


Sunday, June 13, 2010

no one ever sees me -- Poetry 2010

Sometimes I feel camouflaged
from head to foot…
Invisible to the naked eye.
I walk in a crowd
without acknowledgement…
I stand in check out lines
without comment…
I blend into any wall
without interaction…
Maybe its my habit of watching.
Its fun to absorb the moment
by taking mental notes about people,
surroundings, emotions, light, color.
Maybe I am wearing concealment:
a blank face with nondescript clothes
on a gray topped dumpling facade.
Who in their right mind would think
I’m a poet, an artist using my shyness
as an asset instead of a liability…


Cycles -- Poetry 2010

After Fall, the slog through Winter ends
with an interminable wait for Spring’s sweetness.
I’m impatient to feel sun’s warmth on bare skin
and her soft caress of gentle scented breeze.
Summer’s rush of clear skies and cloudless nights
collapses into shorter days calling forth darkness
with increasingly gray heavy days and chill…
The infinite circle of life keeps rotating.
I don’t understand the speed with which we age
but too much to do to worry about such things...
Although these cycles of seasons seems swifter
passing more rapidly before my eyes…
Transient images flash into mental storage
to be recalled with sensory memory bits
of sound, vision, taste, touch... just to be self
contained, traveling through space and time…


Broken Circle -- Poetry 2010

The circle scoffed at my regret,
my wishing for a relationship…
Oh, not that soul mate garbage…
As they rolled their eyes shaking their heads…
If you want sex just pick someone up at a bar…
Stunned at the response that bombarded me
Stunned at the derisive words aimed at me
Stunned into silence at a vicious attack
No words came to my defense, I retreated
mute observing the rest of our “sharing time”.
I came away from their backlash still
believing that relationships can be positive
with a commitment to work through differences;
Not unlike the rules of a sharing circle…
I always wondered why I went and sat with them.
I always felt removed from their information loop
being left out of additional emails or calls.
The queen bee held court while her drones
recounted travails and encumbrances to be
evaluated, pondered and pronounced upon.
I found chores or other excuses to avoid
further rebuke by sharing at their monthly meetings…
I don’t miss them; do they miss me?


Saturday, June 12, 2010

Extremes of Touch -- Poetry 2010

Ultimate greed of a golden touch
or didn’t King Midas think it through?
No way to extract love from metal…
a magnanimous gilt disaster.

Thinking about a reverse Midas touch,
Some people are plagued with catastrophe
effectively turning everything to failure…
didn’t they think their choices through?

Permanently alone within a silent
precious metal landscape: cold,
hard, blindingly glittering bullion
or alone living below poverty level:
cold, hardened, blind to hope -
either way - lessons to learn…


reworked this after more thinking about the poem....

Extremes of Touch

Ultimate greed of a golden touch
or didn’t King Midas think it through?
No way to extract love from metal…
a magnanimous gilt disaster.

Thinking about a reverse Midas touch,
Some people are plagued with catastrophe
effectively turning everything to failure…
didn’t they think their choices through?

Permanently alone within a silent
precious metal landscape: cold,
hard, blinding glittering gold
or alone living below poverty level:
cold, hardened, blind to hope.

Dionysus, God of life forces,
Please explain this conundrum …
who is richer in the things
that really count…
who is enriched most
by life’s extremes…
whose touch will you reverse?


Friday, June 11, 2010

Connection -- Poetry 2010

Moving through lamp lit streets
cool and damp from recent rain:
mist envelops, caresses me,
a loose fitting birth canal that
propels me on my routine journey.
My tired eyes search overhead
for known blazing faceted orbs;
infinite stars dressed for eternity
burning themselves into oblivion
burning themselves into my retinas
searing my connection to this universe
one life time at a time…


Sleep -- Poetry 2010

I‘m having issues sleeping…
know the feeling when someone
or something wakes you up:
extra trips to the bathroom;
college neighbors loud music;
mind overworking a problem;
cats racing around moonbeams;
puzzling dreams, waiting for am alarm,
or thundering snores with drool…
that would be a self inflicted noise.
I just can't go back to sleep…
one solution: sleeping pills.
Then I'd have two problems:
medicine and sleeping issues…
I detest medicine – prescribed
or over counter, so that’s out.
Insomnia … I’ll try to ignore you.
Let's try that sleep thing again...
enrich me with solid sleep, peaceful
dreams, quiet neighbors, behaving
cats, calm mind, and silent breathing
without drool…


Tenacity -- Poetry 2010

Native plants sprout
in irascible places
cracks in highway concrete
fissures in asphalt parking lots
anima determining routes
to survive such adverse landing
to thrive wherever seed falls
germinating with scant resources
tender sprouts seek sun
tender sprouts welcome rain
until summer’s inferno heats habitat
drying root and blade to dust
sacrificed to provide nutrients
for the next cast seed…


Thursday, June 10, 2010

Once Upon a Time -- Poetry 2010

I didn't really feel like getting prettied up today
(its just too muggy) but I love the way you lie.
I could have bought a bigger box of tissues...
But I laughed when you done me wrong since
I was never going to look like a supermodel anyway…
In the past when emotional bruised, I found
hiding out with my cats always made me feel better.
That and copious amounts of banana pudding
but I don't think they make that stuff anymore.
Ruts can be too cozy, really... now it’s exciting to get
out of them though and I plan major adjustments.
I don’t want to garner sympathy for having
been co-dependant and doing the victim dance.
I’m trying to de-dramatize my journey;
I’m trying to discover the root cause and change;
I’m trying to discontinue playing the victim card;
I’m trying to deviate from being an energy vampire.
Now, on to more important matters – inspiring
others to survive adversity by through creativity…


Miscues -- Poetry 2010

Sometimes when in the middle of the dance,
I forget to hear the music so caught
up in the physical movement - rhythm miscues
or I only listen to the melody forgetting
to move so caught up in sound - body miscues.

Moving alone through the still darkness,
I read a secret message among the stars
floating in a vortex of indigo elucidation;
diamond dust calligraphy in the nighttime
brushed the deduction that people throw out
the most genius ideas just by imagining
what could go wrong – fear miscues.

My rational thinking is overrated; I can talk
myself into or out of anything - mental miscues.
Rational or irrational - either way I have
to choose to agree with or not to - opinion miscues.

There's one thing I'm learning - following instincts:
to dance to the natural rhythm
to listen clearly with my body
to form ideas with out fear
to seek a variety of opinions
to think thoroughly before deciding
but not before doing a little research homework.


Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Eternity of Grey -- Poetry 2010

Sky unloads…
Grief upon the land already drenched
Beyond comprehension
Beyond what is reasonable
Beyond the pale weight of unrequited promises
Pounded into sweet earth with each torrent

No respite from tears torn from eyes
No respite from a heart torn to shreds
No respite from an inconspicuous life

A soul can’t shine in this self-imposed
eternity of grey….


Tuesday, June 8, 2010

echoes -- Poetry 2010

coyotes howling
eerily echoes
this moonless night
spine chills…
neck hair standing on end…
Corgis and I make
excellent time walking home
over pitch black terrain…


remembering -- Poetry 2010

soaring ageless spirit
mystified by physical reflections
curiously supple and strong within;
without sees evidence of aging
in this particular storage unit…
remembers timeless repetitions
housed in various forms.
it gathers notes for study
from this current expression…


Sunday, June 6, 2010

jumping chasms -- Poetry 2010

impossible cliffs
wall me in
no guide leads me
locking out failure
revives determination

finding foot holds
shoes rip and tear
from wedging feet

finding fissures
skin scratches and raw
from wedging hands

crawling, pulling
balancing, sweating

a self imposed mold
from past directions
complex chasms
full consciousness
my being in light


Natural Progression -- Poetry 2010

Working through issues one by one,
this spring housecleaning starts my mind:
filling a jumbo garbage bin with pain sensitive materials,
shredding the connections to childish misperceptions,
and laughing more heartily over past foibles.
No longer attempting to mix the oil, vinegar and water
of past emotional traumatic events by constantly shaking
the bottle only to be dismayed with a separated mindset.

The realization: stop fighting the past muck;
look for higher ground above the flood plain;
remove toxic thoughts and radioactive emotions;
release discomfort of stored trauma…
Finds me stretching into flexible grace filled outcomes;
finds me welcoming the beginning of the end,
the natural progression to peaceful resolution…


Elementary Anxiety -- Poetry 2010

Remember “Farmer in the Dell”?
classmates in a circle surrounding the teacher
chosen “farmer” – usually picked as a reward
for excellence… we’d sing loudly between each
pause of farmer picks a wife, she picks a child,
child picks a sibling, sibling picks cat -
mentally calling - pick me, please pick me…
Remember the agonizing intensity wishing,
waiting for selection… circumference decreased
leaving unselected dejected but painfully smiling
resolutely singing, faking gaiety stuck standing
outside the inner circle - side lined…

weekly spelling bee brought more pronounced
anxiety to the classroom with the ritualistic
dividing of classmates on either side of the room
by the supreme being who ruled with insidious
mimicking – inciting survivors of each round
to raucous laughter ridiculing frantic attempts
to correctly spell by shyer pals… inducted with point
and laugh failure ingrained under sensitive skin;
no amount of determination could remove the stigma
pushing beyond the elementary classroom… a despair
reaction of not fitting in with peers… wicked cruelty
super glued to the emotional underbelly of the bashful.

watered down over time with positive life experience gained,
these humiliating aberrations became soluble…
our dreams gave us hope leading to an internal resilience
freeing us from our elementary angst…


If ever I met you -- Poetry 2010

There’d be no eye contact;
I’d panic in anticipation;
I’d pull back nervously,
my voice would disappear.
Its volume reduced to silence;
I’d fidget with folds on my shirt
or smooth my scraggly hair.
Tears would well up but not spill;
the sensation burning my eyes.
I’d wish myself invisible; longing
for release, I curse my shyness;
a painful emotional affliction…

since childhood turned sour
by teachers doing roll call saying,
“Oh, you’re Albert’s sister….”
ringing in my ears, this tinnitus
overpowered my youthful persona
leaving me withdrawn, quiet,
speaking in whispers, awkward,
eyes lost to the floor by rejection.
Wearing a brand I didn’t deserve,
I hated school’s immutable sentence:
guilt by association….


Fingerprints -- Poetry 2010

Shades of desperation coated surfaces
with delusional discoloration, dulling primal tints.
Years of remorse viewed through a cross
of irreverence jaded her contentious outlook,
Prevented her from excavating herself from fate -
Growing old with memories finite imperfections
made apparent through random acts of degradation
dehydrating any chance of escape other than death.
With freedom a blink away, she cursed her lethargy;
She wished her last wish; she wasted away clinging
to an irrevocable seal behind clear varnish for everyone
to see; for everyone to touch leaving their unique identities
into her desperation, one oily fingerprint at a time…


Nature’s Composition -- Poetry 2010

Grasping at ordinary objects
she fell into abstraction
murmuring arcane anomalies
her objections thickened slowly
reduced to geometric forms
drying acrylics formed her essence
the landscape rendered in thick
paste and gels layer upon layer
sealed her into colored permanence;
into infinite existence; land locked
into futuristic expression of Nature’s
worst: raw, cruel, savage, unrelenting.
She was lost to invisibility between
concentric concentrations of pigment…


Saturday, June 5, 2010

Chagrin -- Poetry 2010

Doesn’t seem unnatural that I’ve discovered
over time that the method of “ignore the problem
and it will go away" just doesn’t work - I wish
it did; I learned this from my Dad who would
mumble his displeasure but not demand dilemma
resolution to many unexpected quandaries;
he’d make do and rely on his common sense.
I wonder if his dropping out eighth grade
to help his mother with five younger siblings
or the constant battle and disappointment
with my brother created low self esteem?
We celebrated Dad’s GED; he worked hard,
gained carpentry department promotions,
became a successful estimator. In his later
years Dad looked to expand his understanding
of attitude, spirituality and mental focus…

So why in the dream did he ignore a damaged
package delivered to our house? I was puzzled;
I was normally quiet and let things go but here
was a table saw bent and crumpled. The delivery
men had dropped the box and took off… I yelled
“Hey, get back here!” much to my father’s chagrin…
Reluctantly they came back, retrieved the ruined
box and broken tool causing me to smile in my sleep.


exuberant critters -- Poetry 2010

spring jumping into summer…
let the riotous ruckus commence -
imagination is gyrating from my brain
made giddy with sunny warm weather
finally evaporating the clinging damp chill,
I am delirious with a torrent of desire:
to nap and play with baby tigers;
swing to and fro chimpanzee style
playing jungle tag hard to get;
swim rambunctiously with hippos…
I don't actually want to be in a zoo.
I want to fit exuberantly into my landscape:
stroke water with pelican wing tips,
play Tern tag with the backwash,
and do a sandpiper beach jitterbug;
ramble with raccoons across the fence;
scramble with squirrels from tree to tree;
moon howl with a pack of coyotes;
seal slip in salt water and sun on the jetty;
sing good morning and good night
joining the local woodsy bird’s chorus.
Frolicking fun notions inspired by a dazzling
day and a capricious imagination …


Friday, June 4, 2010

Healing Level by Level -- Poetry 2010

Midnight storm surge smashed the jetty;
Too late to leave the cottage, distracted
adults moved valuables to the second floor.
My brother kept touching me – “stop,
get your hands off me” lost to the raging storm.
Power was off, candles flickered, he was
supposed to watch me – he did it again;
his hands under my nightgown pawing me.
This time an elder heard me during a slight
cessation of wind and surf roar…
One elder shoved him onto a love seat
and stood holding his shoulders to keep him still.
Another elder scooped me up, I concentrated…
Small as I was, I murmured an ancient chant
buoyed by the elders esoteric power and strength;
translucent green mist seeped from my palms.
It wavered onto my flinching brother’s chest…
his eyes turned dark and he sat still as death.
Iridescent green waves condensed to a pin point
laser that slid back and forth between his eyes…
Never would he inappropriately touch me again
or anyone else, he was depleted of depravity.

My pounding heart woke me from this churning
storm tossed sleep - realizing another level
of past abuse had been peeled away…
My voice was heard in this dream.


Thursday, June 3, 2010

Aging Disgracefully -- Poetry 2010

Hair is disappearing as fast
As spring snow melting;
What hasn’t fallen out
Has a weed whacker trim
Somewhere between Einstein
And a steel wool pad
In a nebulous gray tone

Wrinkles are creeping
Into ravines and canyons
Dedicated to antiquity…
Features renege their orbits
Crinkles succumb to gravitational pull
Inertia locks sagging taffy sheath
Connect-a-dot spots
Replace childhood freckles
Dehydrated dermis dances
Shedding forage for dust mites

Symmetry left for the hills
Along with flexibility and agility
Lithesome and svelte mirages
Waver in distant memory
Cast shadows increase in width
Overall I still have most of my parts

Surface finish is deceptive
To my internal workings
Floating graffiti thought bubbles
Encase mumbles of where or what
When searching for objects or names.
My focus in this wilting body style,
My modus operandi in this life phase
Is my intact sense of humor that will put
A dot in dotage while aging disgracefully.
One tattoo of a big lipped raspberry
on my left cheek coming up…


epic fail -- Poetry 2010

measured inhalations
tantric breathing
silent refurbishment
stale cells oxygenated
electric flashes
stream thoughts
through dulled grey matter
vandalizing integrity
disrupting sluice
grinds hemispheres smooth
weathering convolutions
convulsing from an epic fail

measured inhalations
reconstitute concentration
discharging interment
expelling contamination
recharging intricate energy
clarifying perspective
following the Way
rediscovering oneself
on a daily basis


Holly berries -- Poetry 2010

from the South
Cedar Waxwings
moving through
Holly branches
with red berries;
agile flock
repeats strategic
strafing runs…
within an hour
both birds
and berries


Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Draught Drought -- Poetry 2010

I'm feeling a bit
today; I think I'll go
take a nap…
a short hibernation
need to find
deep in the woods
a convenient
unoccupied cave
preferably dry
and bear free

reading quotes
about perseverance
will turn me around;
there are a lot
of them for good

sitting meditation
seeking the inner mystic
will make me focus better…
ohm my way
to peace and squiggles
bringing an end
to this draught


Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Broken Sleep -- Poetry 2010

Not several in one dream,
intervals of heart racing panic…
after spasmodic episodes, it takes
a supreme effort to get back to sleep.
I always find it disturbing when what
I think about sneaks out of conscious
mind to seep suggestions into restorative rest.
I don’t want to have dreams where
anxiety prevails causing fleeting repose
or legitimate high blood pressure spikes.
After a series of frightful sequences,
morning lassitude lingers cloaking
my normally effervescent personality
in antsy, impatient, cranky layers…


Motley Galvanization -- Poetry 2010

Have you seen my motivation?
I know I left it somewhere around here....
won't be able to work in the studio
again unless I find it…
I could get new a one, not sure I can
afford the price; if I can’t, I’d get used ones…
might give me different slant on inspiration;
might help me expand my repertoire;
might take me to the next creative level
unless purpose and aim are too worn out.
Then I’d be back where I started, searching
everywhere for my lost motivation; I guess
I need prompts, enticements, a reason
to continue, a catalyst for art to take
my life to new places on a daily basis…
I’d appreciate your help; please,
someone, please dangle a carrot…
and send some lovely tunes my way as well…


Wild Ride -- Poetry 2010

dangling bungee cord
circling widely
swinging wildly
dragged up and down
frantically sideways
a carnival ride
violently swinging
centrifugal force
enlarges circumference
clinging precariously

driving one handed
I hold the sweet grass circle
tiny spider
to safety