Between sundown and moonrise the world feels heavy, a stone upon the heart. There is no going forward nor looking back, no plans in the making nor nostalgic memories. There is only the now, the plain evening song of blood and bone. Continue reading Desire Rests
You’ve been gone so long I couldn’t imagine you could still do harm. Every time I look around you’re shedding your skin, and I feel claws pressing in, opaque scales falling like snow, blocking the door. *** Image via Flickr Continue reading Cast Away
in times of stress or anger, when others condemn your silence or your shout. Remember your own shining soul, do not succumb to misunderstanding or ill informed hate. Think for yourself, consider all voices. Walk outside the herd falling over the cliff. Remember who you are. Continue reading Remember Who You Are
When election panic starts to prickle my spine, I get the red leash out, smiling at my happy, jumping dog and go for a walk in my quiet, sane neighborhood where no one talks of building walls or bullies people who don’t think like they do but, instead, where people of different races and religions live in harmony and respect each other’s differences. Continue reading Morning Meditation: I don’t need a fixer
I’ve learned to walk through water, to breathe tiny breaths. You lick the salt from my skin but it falls from your mouth onto a barren bed. Sweat and blood dissolve then reappear like invisible ink. The pool I lie in is stagnant, droplets levitate just out of reach. Bone and sinew recoil, expand, one foot in front of the other. Continue reading Going Forward
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
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
The deep summer green has faded overnight from the trees, the season is already changing. As the twilights begin to shorten I also want to not be out, exposed, a cracked and worn Spode plate from a set mostly broken or chipped. ***** Found poem from The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion. Continue reading My New Fragility
Where do those moments go, the ones where you feel perfectly content, like your place in the world is perfect and guaranteed and you are where you’re meant to be? They appear so unexpectedly: looking out the window at the kitchen sink as you pour your second cup of coffee, beneath the old magnolia with your hands in the dirt, on the ferry landing at the clang of the streetcar and the river breeze in your face. The sun shines on your head and you feel it’s soothing warmth traveling to the ends of every nerve in your body, a … Continue reading Morning Meditation: Moments
