Morning Meditation
I wake to the sound of seagulls laughing, they float against the sky riding currents from another land. The air is moist and smells of the Gulf, memories of sand and waves. Continue reading Morning Meditation
Tag: Poetry
Hanging With the Cool
I waited by the gate where we’d planned to meet, leaning against the metal barricade hot in the sun as sweaty arms and legs brushed by to get closer to the stage. Robert Cray was jamming, sweat dripping down his face while his mouth worked, chewing on lyrics like he was eating barbeque with a kick, fingers picking that guitar clean, leaving bare bones where meat used to be. I saw you coming, walking fast like you had somewhere to be, eyes focused on the roped off area behind the stage, guarded by a big man in red with shifty … Continue reading Hanging With the Cool
Perspective
When the water came crashing through windows it wasn’t lovely or artistic, it was raw and dirty and filled with the last words screamed by lonely old ladies in wheelchairs who were found six days later in the room where they drowned. _____________________________________- I never know when the memories of the storm (Hurricane Katrina) and the flood and the victims will grab my gut. It did just now when I saw this photo and read about the artist who created it “to mimic a frothy flood of water rushing into a room”. And this was my reaction. This was a … Continue reading Perspective
Wiggle-Waggle
The dragonfly buzzes about minding its own business, iridescent wings flashing in the sunlight. Humans shuffle along the dirty sidewalk, tied down by the vitriol dripping from their mouths. _______________________________ This poem was inspired by the poetry of Ko Un which I just discovered thanks to Via Negativa and I’ve been devouring as much of his work as I can find on the internet today. I highly recommend reading Via Negativa, the website of poet Dave Bonta and contributing poet Luisa Igloria whose work I adore. Their site is on my Google reader and I read them every single day … Continue reading Wiggle-Waggle
Movement and Shade
In pre-dawn hours I glide through turquoise and jade intermingling, changing from sunlight to shade to twilight, rolling end over end, side to side, hips and shoulders the movement of waves deeper flowing fingers in cobalt beckon I dive into midnight Continue reading Movement and Shade
Regardless
An important first step along the path to a possible tie-up: rake them into a pile and chop them up because they keep the part of your brain that’s only interested in rewards. It’s the response to your anxiety that’s helpful or hurtful, that tell-tale crusty texture which signals that all the juice has been locked inside. It took her four years before she opened because she didn’t intend to be replicable. But, these problems pale in comparison to blatant flip-floppery. ________________________________________ Inspired by the Poetics prompt on dVerse Poets Pub. Continue reading Regardless
Up One Day, Down the Next
A frog croaks in my backyard, he knows the rains are coming. Another joins in and they sing a chorus separately and together. The air is ripe with humidity, moments suspended in invisible droplets. The rains are coming and all I want to do is sleep. Continue reading Up One Day, Down the Next
Baby Steps
We placed the brick pavers one by one, red the color of old blood, in between discussions of surgical drainage, catscans and ventilators. Six one day, four the next, none for a week when the fever rose and the blood pressure dropped and the white blood count was more than twice the normal value. I watch as the path grows and think a lot about the color of the pavers like the color of her heart, the toughness of the brick like the toughness of her character and the slow progression that mimics her daily life in ICU. The garden … Continue reading Baby Steps
Late Afternoon Meditation
The magnolia tree drops its leaves in April because it can. Big brown crunchy leaves drop like bombs on every little struggling green shoot in the earth trying to raise its winter weak head above the crust. The magnolia doesn’t care. Its huge cupped blooms raise creamy jubilation to the sky while strong new green leaves unfurl and challenge the sun. Continue reading Late Afternoon Meditation
An Aerial View
I never said forever. That’s a time continuum I can’t comprehend in a world too tightly bound by years. Today is my commorancy, my roots are in this moment and each one that follows, as it exists. The long tunnel into the future is too narrow, I will not be stuck there. Take my hand, look into my eyes and feel the fresh air on our skin. Now. _____________________________________ Shared with dVerse Poets Pub. Continue reading An Aerial View
