Lament for Mandevilla The rain falls turning life yellow, stealing nourishment. The vibrant red of new beginnings hangs pale and drained. The sky is a thief one day, a savior the next. ***** Another day of rain in New Orleans. Even the tropicals have had enough. My poor Mandevillas. Continue reading Lament for Mandevilla
Dark Air (After Chika Sagawa) Sunlight skipping through the garden doesn’t always dispel cold shade. Still legs rest on a warm stone bench, half-forgetting the whip of running through meadow grass. Continue reading Dark Air
“I have to say this. People outside of the United States do not understand what’s going on in this election. They really don’t. Because they know Hillary. They’ve seen her work. She’s worked closely with our intelligence teams, our diplomats, our military. She has the judgment and the experience and the temperament to meet the threat from terrorism. It’s not new to her. Our troops have pounded ISIL without mercy, taking out their leaders, taking back territory. And I know Hillary won’t relent until ISIL is destroyed. She will finish the job. And she will do it without resorting to … Continue reading Inspiration Interlude: Barack Obama
August is Women in Translation Month, a movement originated by book blogger Meytal Radzinski in 2014 which she details here. Basically, it’s an effort to encourage and spotlight translated books by women which are severely underpublished as compared to men. Meytal has posted supporting statistics for the past year on her blog here. 2015 was the first year I participated in WIT month. I chose and read three books and enjoyed them all. Honestly, what initially drew me to this effort is that I enjoy reading about other cultures and hadn’t read many books by non-American authors. I didn’t even … Continue reading My Book List for Women in Translation Month
803 Monroe I needed to call you but I’d forgotten your number, the one I always thought was burned into my memory — for hours I anxiously thumbed through white and yellow pages, forgetting then remembering your name. Between the pages I could see your dining room, the floor tile cracked like a spider’s web, the old fridge where all your kids stood before the open door to feel the frigid air on desperately hot days while upstairs pretty ladies on a calendar lounged without a drop of sweat to mar their fleshy perfection. ***** 803 Monroe was published in … Continue reading 803 Monroe
On a beautiful summer day when the humidity gives us a break, I walk the dog through my (relatively) quiet neighborhood, craving the different quiet of the deep woods, the real soul quiet where the only noise is the muffled flutterings of little birds, the rustle of leaves in the breeze, and my solitary footsteps on the forest floor. Continue reading Morning Meditation: Quiet
What are ashes but the left-behinds, the fading static, the doppelgänger of used-to-be. Yet. Born of the earth but not earth-bound, rising light as air into the jet stream, hitching a ride to forevermore. Continue reading Tourbillion
So we’re a few days past the summer solstice and I missed seeing the strawberry moon which won’t coincide with the solstice again until 2062. I’m bummed that I missed it. July is a few days away which means we’ll be entering the hottest months of the year here, July through September. On these hot summer days I like to get my house chores and errands done in the morning so I can cool it a couple of hours in the afternoon watching a movie or a series on my Fire TV. I recently discovered Acorn TV with its ‘all … Continue reading Amalgamation: TV,Music,Poetry,& Missing the Moon
I always chop the olives by hand. I like a rough chop that says someone still cares about the preparation of food instead of settling for little identically square bits popped out by a steel thing attached to a cord that gives it life. The knife and I give new life to these olives; messy, uneven life such as it is. The earthy texture of the black and the pungency of the green will soon mix with onion, pimento and the special piquant of a home-canned Gardiniera. Aaron Neville croons “Tell It Like It Is” in my ear as I … Continue reading Live Luscious
The humidity outside has lifted, settling in my chest. I cannot take a deep breath for the grief circulating around my lungs, slowly slogging inside my body. My blood feels thick, sticky in my veins, wanting to lie still. How easy it would be to wallow in this misery, to allow the body to fade. It doesn’t feel like mine. *** Dont worry. I’m ok. Today is the fourth anniversay of my mothers death plus it’s been three days of almost constant exposure to details of the mass shooting. I was feeling overwhelmed and needed to get it out. Thanks … Continue reading Grief the Invader
