Deep within the dawn that tasted like night
that mid-place between waves crashing and cars rushing
I walked
and listened
to a lone bird sing
Dew, mist, rain upon my face
I drew in and inhabited
this textured space.
1/25/13
1/16/13
Dreams from Today
Walking the red carpet with my 3 sons.
Learning and internalizing manual camera functions.
Printing and hanging up those gorgeous photographs.
Creating more art.
Painting BIG!
Share my joy.
Find more places to dance.
Write the story.
Listen to the elderly.
Walk the ocean.
Smile lots.
Organize my history.
Organize the garage.
Show and tell my boys that I love them.
Eat raw.
Create new meals.
Run regularly.
Experiment with makeup.
Dress up and go out in it.
Laugh.
Sing.
Learning and internalizing manual camera functions.
Printing and hanging up those gorgeous photographs.
Creating more art.
Painting BIG!
Share my joy.
Find more places to dance.
Write the story.
Listen to the elderly.
Walk the ocean.
Smile lots.
Organize my history.
Organize the garage.
Show and tell my boys that I love them.
Eat raw.
Create new meals.
Run regularly.
Experiment with makeup.
Dress up and go out in it.
Laugh.
Sing.
1/7/13
From a Dream
...and
then, the rising tide of the gloom surpassed me
and
I closed the book and said goodbye.
_____________
See
the shadow?
It's
coming down now.
The
ridges the lines – each detail combines
until
you think it is part of you
until
you think it is part of you
until
you think it is part of you.
It
is bright outside
the
light
catches
eyes
closing
them tight
until
you think it is part of you
until
you think it is part of you
until
you think it is part of you.
Tasting
dirt
braced
for more
never
opening any other door
until
you think it is part of you
until
you think it is part of you
until
you think it is part of you
...until
you think it is part of you!
1/4/13
1978 London
with a brick wall
there are mortar cracks
with concrete,
you've got a sledgehammer to smash
but the iron shield
that I feel
... impenetrable.
what is said
and what is done
are opposing countries
with axes drawn
I can see all this from above
and you?
lost in a foggy pond.
there are mortar cracks
with concrete,
you've got a sledgehammer to smash
but the iron shield
that I feel
... impenetrable.
what is said
and what is done
are opposing countries
with axes drawn
I can see all this from above
and you?
lost in a foggy pond.
2am
(2am and) the Ponto waves are crashing crashing calling
will I meet myself out on the bluff this night?
shadows swoon
reflections, detections,
There is no me just twinkle stars and a sliver moon.
will I meet myself out on the bluff this night?
shadows swoon
reflections, detections,
There is no me just twinkle stars and a sliver moon.
12/31/12
Garden of Delights
The child,
I hear him,
pitter-patter
pitter-patter
a giggle
a tap
the door shoves open
a wet hand
some jam escaped
the smell of a garden
and I
jumbled
inside
crying.
10/19/12
Muse.
Remember!
Remember.
Remember what it felt like – what it FEELS like to be that woman, that girl.
The daughter, mother, wife, woman, girl. Remember.
In tears and sorrow when no one wants to follow
Remember what it felt like – what it FEELS like to be that woman, that girl.
The daughter, mother, wife, woman, girl. Remember.
In tears and sorrow when no one wants to follow
your
heart
is
empty of causes
'cause
you have no where to run to
until
your ends have unraveled to reveal
threads
of a thousand colors and fibers with which to renew
yours
into ours
and
we shall then follow
the
strands down into the trembling hollow by her neck
waiting
awaiting
for
the moment between the beats
warm
lips
tentative
breath
and
she smiles upon us.
Then,
and only then shall the first words be written.
10/10/12
Fall Fog
Balk against the tasks that beckon
your back turned oh so slight
the weight
may take
your right to flight
always at stake.
Hide the key that turns the lock
lest no one find it and
your soul rot
sweep the crumbs under the sheet
my sweet
no one will see
'till morn'
that your son was born
and grows
thriving
under the setting sun
while you
under clouds
wither.
5/6/12
Tides
To what depths
must I follow
my heart racing
my gut clenching
my mind drifting off
imagining the grocery shopping
the curve of the laundry line
my hip a different shape than before
click, tick, shock, tock
I whistle while I wait
and meet
and smile
and get busy painting my mask
but still here the gloom resides
and creeps back in
and out
and in again.
must I follow
my heart racing
my gut clenching
my mind drifting off
imagining the grocery shopping
the curve of the laundry line
my hip a different shape than before
click, tick, shock, tock
I whistle while I wait
and meet
and smile
and get busy painting my mask
but still here the gloom resides
and creeps back in
and out
and in again.
4/30/12
Man and you
I shake your frowns out of my head
not from my dad
smiling
this time.
Inside
a happy person am I.
And you
my scar tissue.
Cutting it out
leaves another mark.
Got to be the turtle
shell on my back
life out of whack
but moving,
still moving.
It is into the water
where fast I go
grinning
when
swimming.
not from my dad
smiling
this time.
Inside
a happy person am I.
And you
my scar tissue.
Cutting it out
leaves another mark.
Got to be the turtle
shell on my back
life out of whack
but moving,
still moving.
It is into the water
where fast I go
grinning
when
swimming.
April 30
Don't need no coffee
or alcohol
no meat
or fish
no gmo's
no fast food
or trash food
but
beans and greens
water and life
live laugh love
and beautiful days
of streaming rays
out of my heart and into your hand
if this can heal the world
wouldn't it be grand?
or alcohol
no meat
or fish
no gmo's
no fast food
or trash food
but
beans and greens
water and life
live laugh love
and beautiful days
of streaming rays
out of my heart and into your hand
if this can heal the world
wouldn't it be grand?
4/29/12
April 29
Dew on my toes
the morning
like a hiccup
passes
but it was love
while under the spell
of mists
and drifts
and no longer thirsting
for the promise
of sun.
the morning
like a hiccup
passes
but it was love
while under the spell
of mists
and drifts
and no longer thirsting
for the promise
of sun.
4/25/12
April 25
Eyes open
looking, seeking
art in all the wrong places
made by faces
upturned
or inside
hiding the gift
a secret.
Pavement
clicks
and something shifts
I have to move to find it.
The groove between joints
dries up
crumbles,
add more vibrant
solvent;
guide it.
Eyes closed
finding-
make me blinding
on my own
try it.
looking, seeking
art in all the wrong places
made by faces
upturned
or inside
hiding the gift
a secret.
Pavement
clicks
and something shifts
I have to move to find it.
The groove between joints
dries up
crumbles,
add more vibrant
solvent;
guide it.
Eyes closed
finding-
make me blinding
on my own
try it.
4/23/12
April 23
Perceptions
glide
on wings
crumpled
under the reflections
of delusion
and repulsion
sticking
like filaments
to the fabric
of life.
glide
on wings
crumpled
under the reflections
of delusion
and repulsion
sticking
like filaments
to the fabric
of life.
4/22/12
April 22
I tried twice
to write this
came in to my quiet place
but little feet
tip tap stomp
into my heart
and out of my hands
go the words and sound.
Outside
green thick grass
the smell and swell of ocean
dense in the air
and my head
under the sun
fills.
to write this
came in to my quiet place
but little feet
tip tap stomp
into my heart
and out of my hands
go the words and sound.
Outside
green thick grass
the smell and swell of ocean
dense in the air
and my head
under the sun
fills.
4/19/12
April 19
In the movie "The Secret Garden"
there is a glorious scene
where
as the camera pans through the great stone manor
and continues curling down a darkened corridor
a thrilling voice is heard.
The notes swirl about my untethered head as I recall
the beauty found within such a shadowed place.
Displaced by that surrounding gloom
by tones turned magical
around the corner we follow
taking in the sight
of fast moving hands
a flour dusted apron
sleeves rolled up
that robust glow
of almost ecstasy within
seeping out through pores
and pixels
through air,
time
and into my ears, eyes, mind, heart
and to me here
again,
recalling.
Greensleeves will never
could never
be the same.
That cook
eyes closed
resides in the home of my heart
singing
while baking and creating for souls she did not make.
Just a job for her,
a life, yes,
but a world to me.
and inside my mind
my heart sings
while I cook for those I do and did bear
infusing my actions
with what can not be expressed
in tones
alone.
there is a glorious scene
where
as the camera pans through the great stone manor
and continues curling down a darkened corridor
a thrilling voice is heard.
The notes swirl about my untethered head as I recall
the beauty found within such a shadowed place.
Displaced by that surrounding gloom
by tones turned magical
around the corner we follow
taking in the sight
of fast moving hands
a flour dusted apron
sleeves rolled up
that robust glow
of almost ecstasy within
seeping out through pores
and pixels
through air,
time
and into my ears, eyes, mind, heart
and to me here
again,
recalling.
Greensleeves will never
could never
be the same.
That cook
eyes closed
resides in the home of my heart
singing
while baking and creating for souls she did not make.
Just a job for her,
a life, yes,
but a world to me.
and inside my mind
my heart sings
while I cook for those I do and did bear
infusing my actions
with what can not be expressed
in tones
alone.
4/18/12
April 18
The mist
how I beckon you
to delve further inside
quiet places
honed spaces
'til the taken in
and pressed out
no longer listen.
Up on crusted rocks
waves crash where I can't see
and through this thunder
I can feel and breathe and be.
how I beckon you
to delve further inside
quiet places
honed spaces
'til the taken in
and pressed out
no longer listen.
Up on crusted rocks
waves crash where I can't see
and through this thunder
I can feel and breathe and be.
4/17/12
April 17
I don't know if you remember
but I do.
The monarchs with stick black legs
on stiff orange-headed flowers in a field so thick of summer
you couldn't swallow without tasting some hours later
the winding way that the road had
with the bump like an eyelid
winking and blinking as the bike wheels squeaked
the sandy turnout by the mailbox and the rutted two way drive
the woods-
oh, the trees!
full green so blinding you could see out of your grin
and the sounds
of the grasses
blowing
in
the
wind.
I remember.
I remember it all like no one else can.
No one but you.
You charged out into the world, knowing and claiming
understanding and relating
and I followed
quiet, eyes open, trying to make sense
trying to figure how the dots go together
seeing colors and sounds
as light and tone
floating in and fading away
unable to make them stick down
and pause
so I could formulate a question
like my big sister could
but you were then gone
up the hill and around the bend
in my clogs
that were dutch blue with a white painted daisy
and I, sad, not able to walk over the jutting stones,
could never catch up
to
you.
but I do.
The monarchs with stick black legs
on stiff orange-headed flowers in a field so thick of summer
you couldn't swallow without tasting some hours later
the winding way that the road had
with the bump like an eyelid
winking and blinking as the bike wheels squeaked
the sandy turnout by the mailbox and the rutted two way drive
the woods-
oh, the trees!
full green so blinding you could see out of your grin
and the sounds
of the grasses
blowing
in
the
wind.
I remember.
I remember it all like no one else can.
No one but you.
You charged out into the world, knowing and claiming
understanding and relating
and I followed
quiet, eyes open, trying to make sense
trying to figure how the dots go together
seeing colors and sounds
as light and tone
floating in and fading away
unable to make them stick down
and pause
so I could formulate a question
like my big sister could
but you were then gone
up the hill and around the bend
in my clogs
that were dutch blue with a white painted daisy
and I, sad, not able to walk over the jutting stones,
could never catch up
to
you.
4/16/12
April 16
There is a tiny key
I hold it inside my heart
closed over
scabbed
so it remains dark
I forget it is there sometimes
but then it starts to rain
and I feel that familiar clinking
pulling me towards its chain
Links forged from another metal
not from my land of love
I shrug my shoulders and wait
one day
when the ledge is close
I won't even need a shove.
I hold it inside my heart
closed over
scabbed
so it remains dark
I forget it is there sometimes
but then it starts to rain
and I feel that familiar clinking
pulling me towards its chain
Links forged from another metal
not from my land of love
I shrug my shoulders and wait
one day
when the ledge is close
I won't even need a shove.
4/15/12
April 15
The lines have been drawn
in ink, pencil, pigment
between man and woman
male and female
you and she.
Sitting alongside,
one forms the differences
but the interior walls
made of cells and sums
hum
at a frequency more different than two boxes to check
(or more if you have evolved farther yet),
and off we go without thinking of what matter matters.
And I
hover
somewhere between the two
able to see me and you
and he and she
and we
as the multitude of divisons
sway this way and that
curving around our understanding
like the bends in a ruler
and the tubes shrinking past
and the rusty bolt, the steam rising, the goggles and
the glass.
Don't think on the future
think of the now
the moment
this moment
and see with all sides
I am not the she you think
and you not the he I would be
but yet together we sit
and mingle
before sprouting off in another direction
to retangle
perhaps
if the soil is left
unfiltered
by the side of a darkening tree.
in ink, pencil, pigment
between man and woman
male and female
you and she.
Sitting alongside,
one forms the differences
but the interior walls
made of cells and sums
hum
at a frequency more different than two boxes to check
(or more if you have evolved farther yet),
and off we go without thinking of what matter matters.
And I
hover
somewhere between the two
able to see me and you
and he and she
and we
as the multitude of divisons
sway this way and that
curving around our understanding
like the bends in a ruler
and the tubes shrinking past
and the rusty bolt, the steam rising, the goggles and
the glass.
Don't think on the future
think of the now
the moment
this moment
and see with all sides
I am not the she you think
and you not the he I would be
but yet together we sit
and mingle
before sprouting off in another direction
to retangle
perhaps
if the soil is left
unfiltered
by the side of a darkening tree.
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