poetry. thoughts and more than make-believe.

Monday, December 31, 2007

and then of
sheep
roam
rome
as in where
are you
fuzzy backyard animals
ing
sleeping
black
white
dresses
twinned in new years
wishes

Sunday, December 30, 2007

lucid couch dreaming

flying into a fishbowl
made of
orange
yellow
shades of origami
goldfish smiling hello's

continuing
flying
happyfreedom

and then
red-roomed
wondering if the plasticwrap
would let me by...

surrounded by shades
of scarlet

i said
i am ready to see someone now

and two dark suited boys
were stream-standing
looking at my dad
behind me

Sunday, December 23, 2007

a sleep
not snoring
as claire wants to say
but breathing
nightttime secrets
whispering breaths
bouncing on living room floors

Monday, December 10, 2007

she said,
mommie isn't like my mommie
----unless i'm getting in trouble--
she's more like my big sister

and then
another she said,

mommie is my true love


and i cried
sad-country-song-tears...

Saturday, December 08, 2007

Shout out
blackball
cockblock
bluecollar
which dish pattern
swirls toille
reds
blues
blacks
ware
wear
me home
look like the cattle drove
balls
chains
crossing streets
believing in toothfaires
spreading words
fragrances of old love
watching over random hills
collapsed in rasberry afternoons...
I dreamt of shadows
whispering thru cornstalks and horn billed beaks...
and as the morning stars were tucked in,
all the couch could do was wonder
"how did I end up in the front yard drinking 5am instant coffee?"
while the little birds gather
their home-a-rama twigs
twisting dryer lint thru walls






and then she heard said,
nothing is free...
while another she said,
except mommies love--

and I knew that she will
speak heart pillows,
only hoping whoever falls
up the water
down the fall
will speak the same language...

Sunday, December 02, 2007

chloe

she sleeps
snoring
soundly
on the couch
last night
fall
falling
asleep till she walked
herself upstairs
topbunk
and this morning at 4:30
wide awake
eyes
wanting to sleep
we decided to
softly whisper
downstairs step
to fall back asleep
at 6:11

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

there are no coindidences

at the cemetary

walking hills
following
instinct
intuition
paths thru gravestones
head
whats in it
under grassy covers
snowflake patches
banana shine
dear deer stop
watch me
mouth
graybrain open surprised
who more
them
me

so the little marble angel
hearing her call
up
p
another hill
following slippery sidewalk skies

whispering shadows want to be followed

Saturday, November 24, 2007

how would this be analyzed?

dreamt a mouse
running swift
shifting
here
there
looked up at me
on the railroad tracks
with a vmole
in his mouth
laughing to himself
shuttering to myself
click
one
everyone else only sighed
as he ate the bigger creature
well-wishing he would
read the red octagon

Thursday, October 25, 2007

My 91 1/2 yr. old Grandma lives next door to us...my mom is helping her more often these days. This was poem she wrote for me when I was between 10-12 years old.

Dreamt Beth wrote this poem for me:

Grandmas house is special;
She gives us treats in a pretty bowl.
She pulls out the couch to make us a hidey hole.
She only says, "Be careful don't hurt yourself,"
when we act like animals in the hungle and get tired
so we need to rest, she sits on the couch and reads us
books by the bundle.
At Grandma's house there are so many things to do.
I'd like to go there everyday,
She has lots of toys and games to play.
But mommie says, "No way--
You have things to do at home
study your lessons
or play with Kari,
practice the piano, do not tarry!
Pick up the toys or clean your room,
Daddy will be home soon.
But on Sunday, even in the winter,
we go to Grandma's house for dinner."

Sunday, October 14, 2007

dreamt in movies
rounding explosions
galloping thru puddles
in summer skirts
finding exhaustion speaking
with nighttime songs

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

because i woke up vertigo-ed tuesday morning

monkey see
do

what i hear
early morning fall
swishes
hard crunchies
bumping
bu m p in g
sidewalk
walk on by
streets

what i see
9 year old girl guitar
napping
snoooreee
ing
against Japanese screens
embroidaried with midnight
halloween hair

Slate blue Kuan Jin
whispering brushes of
compassion
gentle is
as gentle does
while dreaming
up up and away
of sweetened
candy coffee

knowing how
my brain
falls
f
a
l
l
s
as soon
snap! as

I stand

Monday, October 01, 2007

after schooltime

once upon a time
whose fairytale
told was
Arthur and chocolate milk
now is
riding bikes downtown
and saving backyard animals

Saturday, September 29, 2007

When the body betrays you,
Phillip Roth wrote speaking

both times I stopped
uh one two three four
tap tapping that's what it feels like
when suddenly your body isn't
what you think anymore


...such a deep maroon
purplish color
purple
patty
pickle
petunia
...how i want to get lost in
sunset words
coloring
gnawing back punches
waking me up in
day grouchiness...

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Indiana Dunes

the sky was periwinkle purple
a picture of make-believe heaven
wrapped in crinkled blue celaphane
what pinks marched along rippling shadows
and broad skylight
shone between sandy toes...
dropping
confectioner
s
u
g
a
r
on vinegar
countertops
she forgot
about the towels
wallowing on
damp
b
a
t
h
room
floors

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

overclosed

southeast
blueredequalswhatcolor
mishmashpotatoespaprikasprinkledovertop
looking outside broken
frontscreendoors
,
she's mad at herself
vocabularywords
runningtogether
fourteentwentytwo
,
homeworkcircles
flagsfrontporches
words

underlooked

Monday, September 10, 2007

on golden pond
lake
is straight up
divide in half

fishing Canadian morning

and when you have to fly in
drive off a dirt road
you know it's a good thing

quiet
ness

circles maryk staying at bettyk

and men wearing Bass hats
earlydays

Thursday, September 06, 2007

Reggae Fest.




We're in the background...we hadn't been there long till SNAP! It was a hot day, but dance-dance-dancin the afternoon away with the downtown crowd was completely wonderful.

Thursday, August 30, 2007

absolutelytruly
love when you can tell
its a
1st time
library date.
picking out movies.
likes
dislikes
like music.
giggle giggle
hush
hush
sweet.

Saturday, August 25, 2007

and if
31 days
passes
before
one month
who wins the
prize is right?

what if speaking
sneaks around corners
whisperwhisper
hushhush

sleeping midnight rocksongs

lulling motions

ranging position

free
tibet
lynard

september falls before

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

afterschool 6th grade tears

and her face
so much mine
shape
eyes
hair
understood
red eye
tearful
f
u
l
l
eyelids
watercans
flowering
when i told her the baby Clara May coffee shop story,
heartfelt
f
u
l
l
again
that even when
we are
not
knotting
we are showing up
in
haha places

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

and down my favorite hill
i thought of my green alley
building
Jr. High
Intermediate
Elementary

Three girls
Three schools
Three times

Each morning
afternoon
night

nerves
worries
bundled up

wrapped around pencil erasers
bookcovers
puppydog folders

purses
backpacks
pencil carriers

crying before school
the day
and there again

Sunday, August 12, 2007

while criss-cross
xxoo
what tic
tac
toe
game did you play
across town
down
up
roundaboutsilly
she latte spoke,
you are so beautiful
i've always wanted to tell you that
and
the ice-cream
sprinkles
fell
drip
dripple
with jean shorts
and window knocking hello's-

Tuesday, August 07, 2007

warm
stickynote air
rubs my
l
e
g
s
a
r
m
s
melting tiny
fingerfelt
drip
r
o
p
s
around
neck
lacing
words

Tuesday, July 31, 2007

indiana

And we will
be loose
ly
stuffed in
under night
moon
stars
air
breathing in
sandy skin
brushed between
sunny legs
waiting for night dreams
to take us on midnight strolls
all in moments
black hair at the candy counter
blonde hair bouncing on crazy trampolines
old money owed and what
would grandma say
wondering if each moment
is all in
Glance--ing
over shoulders
shoulds
shouldnots
ieyeis
thiswaythat
last bent straw
thiswaythat
crossing t's
making xylophones
dotting i's
backdoor signs
front doors looking
at Motel
what number are you?
what day are you on?
day1
day 222

And when do shoulders
wear shirtbuttons
cuffed
acceptance interruped
back
forth
looking at merry-go-round-girls
wondering when they
the y
will get off
place
no fear
worries
arms stretched
x could equal y
or not,
to the blue
criss-cross
silky air

place
un
to

to
un

Unplace

layed between layers

listening
dripdripdrip
r
o
p
scattering jacks
dice
around the damp
front
side
yard
street
walk
a
n
ting to elo
eventually
asking if twenty two people hear
two sounds
drip
r
o
p
then, asking mr. mailman about
letters shuffled
shoved
miss
alphabet
ically

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

My 35th birthday
morning coffee
sink standing
early

I look out my kitchen window
and see a woman
draped across the cottoncandy blue skyline
and I smile

to myself

and think this is my present

I haven't lost the ability to see
pictures
clouds
make-believe
dream answers
signs

and she was telling me
so

Monday, July 09, 2007

Grandma told me
she remembers turning 35
standing at the sink
doing dishes
thinking 1/2 my life is over...
who would've thought
21 years plus,
and now at 91
suddenly she is old

and at 35,
i don't think of my life as
1/2 over
i'm just surprised each day
at how much i don't know

not much about
anyone
who
how
this
that
normal
not

And Grandma knows
it's almost time...

Monday, July 02, 2007

and i remember
cloudclimbing
take me out the window
take me out the door
take me out the tinee-tiny crack

speed-diving disconnections
who's on the other line e.l.o
take the back floor
take the back
take the

other side
of the silverlining
silverspoons don't mean
brighter stars
brighter moons

just a fast-drivin break

not recalled
but remembered

watching suncatching arrows
feeling
falling
cold

Thursday, June 28, 2007

They are blanket sitting
under the willow tree
eyes closed
practicing 1 o'clock yoga

attempting peace in the afternoon
Three bricks lay by my front sidewalk. On the diagonal. The same bricks I trekked from the delapidated paint-furniture-factory, down the street a few hundred feet. The building was torn down permit-less. There had to have been thousands of bricks, free for the taking.

At first I was just pulling the bricks in the girls little red wagon, but being "artistically" inclined I had images of a brick-lined sidewalk streaming thru my wanna-be-english-garden backyard. I quickly learned I needed a lot more bricks than what it would appear, if I wanted to do what my brain was picturing for me. Soon my wagon was replaced by my car.

Other people caught onto the bricks too. Plus doors. Plus cabinets. I was a small operation compared to most. I'd take the girls down and we'd scavange through the concrete playground. "Watch out for nails, glass, rusty metal, " I'd tell the baby girls as I found other pieces of contraband which had fallen to the ground. I wondered if this was how real city kids played in rubble. My other "purchases" were usually wood pieces that I would eventually create from.

The bricks I kept going back for. Everytime I'd drive how many feet, I'd attempt to stack up even more in my trunk. It was hard work. That dusty, heavy smell. I'm sure I was breathing in old mortar, but I had images of a mixture of asbesto's and lead-paint lining my lungs with every breath. I figured I'd live thru it. So far, so good. Eventually I thought, how much brick does one person need?

Now I realize, more.

I have attempted various designs with the multi-colored clay. I lined my flower beds in the backyard. I made a short pathway to the recycle-part of the garden. I've stacked them around flowers. I took the bulk of them and created a "porch" from my back porch area. It was my outside haven, I suppose. But, I didn't lay them correctly. I knew that. I was supposed to dig, level, pack sand, to keep my bricks looking nice and even. Now, they are shifting and weeds are telling me hello everyday. But the girls tree-swing hangs above. And I pick the bricks up here and there to shift the shifting. I just moved a pile by the garage last week, in attempt to add-on to the lost haven area. I think I'm probably fooling myself into thinking I'm making it look any better.

So, when my youngest asked the other day if she could have some bricks to prop up her "have a happy summer" sign to put by the front sidewalk, I of course didn't care. Doubt I would have, even if my bricks were perfectly perfect.

Two white concrete bricks, which were the end of the take-home pile, and one red brick lay right there. I see them sitting here on my front porch. Now, if I could find another rundown building or a lonely pile of bricks, I would bring'em home and make something more...maybe that yellow-brick road.

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

They asked if they could make a mud pool.
Little tikes
Overgrown
Bluesky on-ground

And I said yeh.
Hesitate
Sigh
Makes so much fun

They rolled and played, slathered and caked on the mess.

And I thought, they haven't changed since toddlers.

The most fun a girl can have in the summer is playing in the mud--
Big ideas
grow grow grow
sunshine flower high

What reason?

walking down rows of
cucumber sandwiches
brightly colored apples,
this is the reason
circles aren't circling
rushed inward
crazy swirls of
colored cottoncandy
spinning green chakra
alive
breathing down tomatoes
watering easy-listening tunes,
this is the reason
songs are written for clear-cutting
wrapped in salsa
walking under troll-bridges
this is the reason,
age-shadows push t.v. trays
freezing in a circus of
high-rise condo's and their hello's.

Friday, June 22, 2007

2nd chance
playing mountain momma
dread-lock girl
doesn't care to order Pottery Barn anymore

makes her morning tea
and pancakes for three
thinkin life ain't so bad
when I get to be me

1st time around
too many locks on the door
didn't know what to sweep out
keep hidden beneath the stairwell floor

this time around
vinyl songs play
little flowers sleep
all along you thinkin
this time
i get to be me.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

My beading program went well. I had 10 women attend. They brought their sack lunches and ate while I demo'd away. They asked some great questions. I was concerned about filling an hours time, but with making a bookmark to take home the time went quick!

Saturday, June 16, 2007

beading

I was researching moretti glass and came across this from www.harmoniccyle.com...


glass info:

what does the word *lampwork* mean?

Lampwork is a name for a antique style of glasswork. The flame of a oil lamp is stoked with a air bellows to focus heat and melt glass. The glass is held in the open flame and shaped into small objects such as beads, marbles, and sculptures. Many ancient shapes and designs are honored and crafted by today's artists.
Gas torches with specialized burner heads have replaced the oil lamps of days gone by but the fascination that accompanies the melting of glass remains and the name *Lampworking* is a reminder that this highly refined craft has a very old and basic origin.

where does the glass come from?

The glass I use at Mother Earth is a popular and widely distributed glass known as *Moretti* glass. This glass is manufactured in Venice, Italy on the island of Murano by Effettre Moretti Industrial. Moretti Glass is provided to lampwork artists in the shape of glass rods. The rods are easily spun in the flame which helps evenly distribute the heat.
The Effettre company and the island of Murano share a long traditon of Venitian glass manufacturing. The island has been officially designated as an industrial center for glass work since AD 1291. A close relationship between Artists, Glass Manufacturers, and Merchants has enabled Venice to serve as a world leader in the glass arts since the 1500's.
Many of the reciepes, processes, and raw materials used to create Moretti glass rods are closely guarded secrets handed down over generations. The color in beads made from Murano glass of the 16th century is as bright today as when the beads were made. It is nice to know the beads you see today will be bright and clear in the future as well. A benifit to todays artists is the freedom that years of testing and refinement provide as more combinations of color and style are possible than than ever before.
Lampwork artists throughout the world continue a great Venitian glass working tradition when they choose Moretti glass.


do beads really last for centuries?

Yes! Glass beads are known to last for hundreds, even thousands of years. A remarkable characteristic of glass is that it retains color better than almost any other art material. The glass I use has been manufactured in Murano, Italy for centuries and is proven to hold finish, lustre, and color with no special storage requirements. Oil paintings and antique metal work are far more fragile.
The round shape of most beads is inherently strong and I strengthen the beads by annealling them in a kiln. The annealing process involves reheating the bead slowly and keeping it hot in a near molten state long enough for any tension or stress, trapped as the bead was formed, to self-adjust and even out. The beads are cooled very slowly. The annealling process takes about 9 hours but the beads become much stronger.
The beads I offer are hand made and professionally annealled, with the intention of providing years of satifaction.

how is the hole in the bead formed?

Making the hole in a bead is relatively easy. In fact, it is harder to make a marble than a bead and that's because beadmakers can use a long metal rod as both a handle and mandrel. The metal rod is usually coated with a heat proof ceramic slip that will keep the glass from sticking to the rod.
A beadmaker will hold the metal rod in one hand and a glass rod in the other. The tip of the glass rod is held in a flame long enough to melt the end. As the glass softens it is wrapped around the metal rods cylindrical form. The artist continues to hold the molten bead and the glass rod in and near the flame as the material is built up.
The rod makes a very convienient handle and allows the artist to comfortably maintain heat control. By carefully spinning the metal rod the molten bead can be shaped with precise symmetry. The spinning action causes the molten material to spread evenly around the axis of the rod.
When the bead cools the rod that helped as both a handle and mandrel is removed and the bead is left with a very useful hole.
I wonder how people make marbles?






harmonic cycle: home page I contact info I site index

Friday, June 15, 2007

matching
morning dove sounds
rundown buildings
look sharp
the man in the orange suit
is quick
shoot
shot
to
defrazzle
empty lots
for parking people--

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Acceptance interrupted

Acceptance interrupted
concrete babies
peacock shower
and gravel playground--

Who doesn't mow
below-the-poverty-line-kids playground
little toddler toes
sting
stung
clover bushes

Who doesn't care about
band-aids
barely provided while
moms sip on diet cola
and offer candy bars
instead of banana's?

Sunday, June 10, 2007

my left calf is so pulled...slightly reminds me of twisting my ankle in the fall. puts a hinderance on speed walking. yoga will have to do for the morning...
note to self:
if deciding to run wear the right shoes and stretch.
a pulled calf muscle doesn't feel very good.

what did feel good was being outside in the sunday morning air...

Saturday, June 09, 2007

and when i stepped
out of the shower
there was a peacock
feather by my feet-

bare
barefeet take me around
blue
blue toenails-

and then the pink
towel was wet
with bare blue drops

and my feet
smiled at the feather
for a tip of the hat,
good day

Friday, June 08, 2007

sitting on a folded futon mattress
morning sunlight
shouts hello to my
$20 garage sale carpet
dusty screens
unfinished photo albums
click
clack
and why is there a wet towel
laying across the baby rocking chair?

Saturday, June 02, 2007

Beading

Gonna do a beading demo Tuesday, June 19 12-1 at the library for their Brown Bag Lunch. Most Tuesdays during the summer there is a different program planned. Always a good break in the day...anyhow, just writing out my program plan. I realized this morning that I've never written how I make beads. Took a class years back and continue to enjoy it so so much...

Tools I use: Hot head torch, MAPP gas, mandrels (skinny steel rods), bead release (some funky chemical that should be about the consistency of toothpaste that goes on the mandrel), safety glasses (for the occasional flying glass), glass of water (in case the bead gets out of control and you need SHOCK it), various metal/lead tools and either a crockpot, kiln or ceramic fibre blanket--to anneal the beads once out of the flame.

Materials: Moretti/Effetre Glass rods/stringers, hopefully two hands, time

Set up: I use an old cookie sheet to place all my tools on, so I don't accidently ruin my kitchen table...and to be "organized."

ATTENTION: You'll be using both hands, right and left, at the same time. You're brain and hands may seem a bit slow to begin with. When I started doing beads I thought I was patient...hmmm...took some time to gain more patience. The woman who taught me said this was her zen. Didn't seem very zen-like in the beginning...

Step 1: Before I torch, I prepare my mandrels with a coating of bead release, letting it either air dry in a can or torch it when warming the mandrels. With the mandrels I usually use my non-dominant hand.

Step 2: Preheat glass rod from the top of the flame, or above depending on the color of glass. I use my dominant hand mostly for the glass rod. You've gotta rotate the rod in and out of the heat with your dexterous fingers so it warms the surface.

Step 3: Keep heating glass till the end turns into a pea-size ball. This is the "footprint" of the bead.

Step 4: Touch tip of red-jawbreaker-hot glass to mandrel at a perpendicular angle (straight on if you've been out of the math world for a bit). Turn mandrel with your fingers slowly away from you, along your thumb. Watch that glass just flow like a gushy warm Milky Way.

Step 5: Continue winding hot glass onto mandrel, layering, maybe stopping, then adding more...Continue turning mandrel between fingers and thumb.

Step 6: When done, burn off the glass rod end, winding off and removing from flame to separate the rod from bead.

Step 7: You can either add on more glass, making it bigger or keep it simple and place that bead into the bead rotating like a rotisserie, to make it round and smooth. (If thats what you want of course)

Step 8: Decorate if your heart desires with different colors or stringers. (really skinny glass rods)

Step 9: Continue rotating and slowly take bead out of flame to solidify and anneal.

Step 10: Place either in crockpot, kiln or ceramic blanket.

These directions are really not meant to get you started, just to help me thru a program.

Friday, June 01, 2007

i just wanted to drive off into the spritzing farmers field...green growing...onto 40. Some romantic image of hardworking field life.

Thursday, May 31, 2007

and i thought
about the horse
horseman
(a.k.a cowboy)
standing on the corner
going into the base
where someone called it
the alaskan pipeline
and how he just lets
his horse eat
and he rests
wearing
big ole boots
horseman hat
and how i
still half laugh
about signs
him standing next to
the curvey arrow
when i
see them

curving curvey curve

out
land
inthemiddleofthe
ofthe
white line
gravel road
green grass
curving
curvey
curve
thehorse
on Evanston
stood
watching
she
I
walkaroundthe
curvingcurveycurve

and we stopped
at their white
notpicketfence
and called her over

nosepet
horseeyes
telling us
its lonely on the corner
eating four leaf clover
a
l
l
day

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

This Memorial Day was one of the first for a time that the girls and I didn't all go out to the cemetary. One did. Rode her bike with her friend. I stood at the curb remembering my picture at work. I'm holding the youngest while the other two stood beside me, looking at the camera--into the sun. That was before going to the cemetary. There really were only a few years going. Walking. Maybe next year, but maybe not.

Sunday, May 27, 2007

time for

the time for
baby blackbirds
walking across
who ya on the phone with
and baby robins
munching on
where's my mommy thoughts

the time for
broken grassblades
and smells of wet mud

the time for
sleepless leg backbreaking humidity nights

the
i
m
each
a
s

swallow
swollow
a
i
dear girl
to
u
tside
rambles and find the time for

Friday, May 25, 2007

because my eyes
wouldn't shut
shut
shut
shut
sleep invited me to the
other end of the bed.

i layed
gazing thru the front screen
staring thru the willow tree
remember how bright the
streetlight seemed when
first laying here
now noticing not much.

how i wanted to put the
bed right in the front
under the window
but worried light would creep
creep
creep
creep
in too much or somehow
would slip
slop
slip
out
down the curb
around twisty corners.

last nites
kept me remembering
breathing in crisp spring breezes
wish
wash
wish
letting me almost slip
slop
slip away--

And then I fell asleep.

make be lie ve ry (make believe) very

light up
firecracker bulbs
skitskat
on the sidewalk chalk
make
be
lie
ve ry
who's city is this
and i know this person and that
till you stoooop
and what small town do you
breathe your first
wake up smell
do you
coffee
tea
me and then the dream man
SHOUTS
you could just wake up
after nites
peeking
peering
windows without screens
looking at
make
be
lie
ve ry babes
And to think
a momentary lapse of
who's crazy
who's sane
in
out
upside
down
playing
make
be
lie
ve ry onto the next
devil in the sandbox
blue
red your mascot changes
like her sheets
and I knew the threadcount was high
thinking high threadcount
counts
again
wonder
ing as completely cover
ing her mattress
close off
if thats pulling at seams
closure
deadend road
firecracker jumper
make
be
lie
ve ry blue skies jumps
and sledding on sunny days

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket
cast
away

om

pale green
forest ceiling
trees
call
cascade
uphighuptakemeaway

twisting
square your hips more
thiswaythat

shuffledwood
floor wraps
old dance stages

sing the praises
om
p
e
n
ing clos

namaste

brainap
y
o
gannagoagain

Monday, May 21, 2007


Yesterday morning I was sink-standing, doing dishes--listening to wyso. I used to question the idea of chances. Fate. These days I think its about the universe and being aware...anyhow, I flip on the radio and what do I hear but an interview about this book that I got to be a part of...

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

So on my morning walk

i noticed tv antennaes
wondering
wandering
how many
i could count
whats behind door
1
2
3
and if kids even know
what they are
remembering once upon a time
when my dad and uncle
dug the hole
for cement-concrete
mounting those alien spaceship poles
my brother
i
neighbor boys
played
cops
jail
in that dugout
then looking up
after my walk
next door
realizing grandma has 3
on her house alone
but ours
does not.

Wednesday, May 09, 2007

Val

She wore a green floral shirt.
A wig.
The color of her hair, almost her style.
I figured she had it all planned before she decided to lay so still.
I waited for her hands to move.
Always the hands.
They never do.
Hugs.
Handshakes.

Photos stab my eyes
thinking she is all of us
arms around her girls around her husband around her family.
She was always so alive
even when she was complaining about library fines.

You knew what she thought.
Decisive.
Over-protective.
Love.
Her sad teen girls.
Sad husband.
Polite hugs and smiles,
"thank you for the food."
And I knew that green shirt was the most lovely outfit I saw all day.

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

Carl

The room next to us
divided air
curtain
sheet drawn this way
that way
'oh please someone help me'
high pitch
low pitch
'oh my back'
not laughs
but moans
roaring from his
raging body
disconnected soul
detox
drug
withdrawal
asking for morphine
'don't let me out'
another drug
knowing what takes
the skin crawling
fetal position away
'heyheyheyheyhey'
'ithurtsithurtsithurts'
'uhuhuhuhuhuh'
silence
shut the body door
staff ignore requests
he was here yesterday
back tomorrow
'do they have any?'
any what
real drugs
ad
add
addict
addiction
'oh mommy i'm sorry oh mommy oh mommy'

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Warm rain
nuzzles my neck
as I chain the
dog to her outside
morning time

Where are
the crib
the boots
in the closet
clicking her in place

Who works inside
outside
rainsheets

Beware of travel
guard against inertia
the upside-down
rightside-up
King of Pentacles whispered

I will stay home
doing laundry
after my morning yoga

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

simple

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simple

somedays
like tuesdays
are simple days
walking to school
and laughing when she called
the morning dove an
early bird,
jumping in front seats
meeting my grandma
walking her around the block
walking the dog back home
watching the sun
latch onto seedshop windows
seeing friends
scattering in
around for-sale homes
pregnant mommas
walking their babies
drinking coffee in backrooms
washing sheets
making glass necklaces earrings
doing dishes always by hand
talking on the phone
about simple things

Thursday, April 12, 2007

Unrecallable last time

The last time I saw her
she was planting
daffodils under old pines
wearing leather sandles
walking on winter needles
hoping her bulbs would grow
high
higher
highest
taking her
up
up
away from
nightly empty beer boxes.

She was lemon-juice blonde
wearing frayed jeanshorts
carrying a cracked wateringcan
wonder how the picnic table
ended up in the front yard
and the backyard became the front,
ball & chain locked
eyes casting down
not even an eye-whisper to a stranger.

Was she thinking
why didn't I listen to my schoolboys
who
whose
wisdom seeks
soulseeker
dreamcatcher
catch me if I fall
way
down
under
Australia
and why has it taken so long to say
goodbye to the tall
tall pines
moldy ceilings and
chipped paint.

But when was the last time I saw her?

Sunday, April 01, 2007

sleep, or not

i
lay
ly
duvet covered
waiting for
eyelid images
sparks before
sleep
1
2
3
but when
the rotating
click
clack
12:03 sounds
of hamster wheels
pouncing cats
coughing girls
keep me
from
fall
fall
falling
fast,
i decide
to write
finding my
sleep will come
home soon.

Monday, March 12, 2007

watercolor

she sat
crosslegged
in the middle
of a barbie-doll sea
painting
a
lone hill
pines
oaks
surrounding
the lakefront
with a shadow
of
him
her
boating
--listening to newage tunes...

Wednesday, March 07, 2007

address440

and when
i stood
tippytoey
on their cornfield porch
in their cornfield house
i thought
nice point-of-view
soon to be
jammedcrackedpadded
with homes
that don't sway
or give back to
anyone--

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

moonrayne

in my
next life
i'll name my dog
moon
my child
rayne
think about
running
rolling
hillsides
at sunset
locked arms with
close strangers
whisper soft names
inside blue walls
outside blue skies
with sunrising walks
and spring rockgardens
all-the-while
catching craw-dads and
climbing impossible pine trees.

Monday, March 05, 2007

moonshine

full
moon
shine
not to drink
but my eyes
watched
front window
back door
falling
following
last nite
this morning

Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Sounds funny

but I don't believe in standing & eating...i couldn't help it though,
standing in the sunlight
watching my crystalpink
necklace sparkle
cut rainbows across
green cabinet
scratched countertops
wannabe painted walls...
swaying to
kitchen songs
with a mouthful of
syrup & waffles.

Monday, February 19, 2007

lack of sleep writing away

eachtimeiwannacry
i swoop
eaglefeather
duckdown
feeling
waterfalls
reach
i
n
g
i breath
so deep
want
need
having-to-have-to
be invisible
takemybreathaway
from
gray
knockmyfeet
against the
walls
boarded above
walk
ways
message
reminders
to
fro
wrapped in
fuzzyskysun
moments.




She told me He told me
everytime she everytime he
can't buy sleep can't buy sleep
she pictures he pictures
them at the them at the
base of a top of a
mountain tree
near water near skies
holding soft holding soft
palms watching auras watching
fishing springing birds dancing
to the sunset to the sunrise
talking about talking about
their days their days
on the same on the same
vibration level
singing her singing him
to sleep. to sleep.


think you were duped
thought you were tied
belly in knots
twisting
rollercoaster ride-
take me home john denver
lead me to tibetian shores
forget soft ears
and so sweet words...

Tuesday, February 06, 2007

snowy
roads
112hours
too much
trying to be
a snowflake
cornfield
frozen river
anywhere
but
carbound

Thursday, February 01, 2007

Thousand

"Thousand years"
call ahead
setting the table
for the
jetset
jetson
future lives;
pick up those
nickels in your
pocket
& throw
them in the
rock
herb
vegi garden
because don't we all
need to
see a flower grow?
cut
chop
varied
simple choices
speak
when
a thousandsvoices
turn into
inside
outside
one.

Friday, January 26, 2007

walked

level
one
two
three
raise your
glass
cheers
to the top
behind
the
nuthouse
and below
the treetops
different
alternate
perspective
one
two
three
snap

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

bless
ed
be
be
a
lone
holy
holly
whats wrong
silent
silence

(i think)
i know the
difference between
being
a
lone
a
lone
r
lone
ly

bless
ed
be
lone
ly
days

(ispatsycline
7dayslonely)

so
so
rry
sry
be
gin
gin (idon'tlike)

for
sun
ny
day
s

will
w
i
l
l
wi
ll
come
came
soon
seem

and what
number
day
is
this?

Thursday, January 18, 2007

last row

did i ever
sit
sat
in the last
pew
just staring
at the
ceiling of
noahs ark
or noticing
what art
is window hung?
why is green
cloth hanging
behind the
billion foot cross,
i can't remember
what the colors mean.
the last row
quiet
muffling church
sounds i got lost in,
this morning.

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

sunny
between
white
fluffy

above
buildings

hawks
sitting
below
blue lines

sunny
side up
sunny
side down

sunny
sorta
outside

Monday, January 15, 2007

pulling into
fuzzy
spinning
wrapped floats
stopping to eat
plums by the
tracks...
do trains steal
moments
sigh,
that never happened?
who says lie is a word?
me to you me to me
you to me you to you
me to he he to me
he to she she to she
she to you you to you
it's just a bunch
of fairytale years
wrapped around
upside down
rightside.

Thursday, January 11, 2007

Before Sleep

i was floating
wrapped
around in
mind arms
not being
holding tight
keeping me
from falling
fast asleep

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

silence

couchlayingdog
windowsittingcat
ventedfurnaceblast
internalmechanics
externaloperations
if i feel--if i look
too long
swept
down the street
up up and
away
making me
feel
deepdown
saying words
i don't---
feeling
so alive
drawn
connected by
some point
i let go of
somewhere
brought back
--if i look
too long
it takes me somewhere
where i feel.

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

what color

Blankets spread across
porches
beds
world holding hands
interlocking fingers
what color was
your first kiss
crossing the street
with make believe angels
and blue-devil guards
what color was
your first f...
when the cars
sped by under
horse statues
greeting
steamed windows with
bedroom goodbyes
in the morning
night
under
good morning stars.
"Happiness is only real when shared".....from Into the Wild
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