Ultimate Horror
Blue computer screen arises
out of nowhere, for no reason,
then black. Computer with its
own mind reboots. Horror strikes,
the worst possible kind. Today's
words lost, gone, never to be
reclaimed in the same way.
What will happen? I watch the
familiar process, wonder, hope.
Will it, will it not, reboot? I
watch, pray, then sigh in relief.
Windows emerge again. All works,
though perhaps on borrowed time,
I breathe, relieved to be spared
devastation for another day.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Two Self Portraits
Morning Mary
She awakes early, turns on coffee,
takes dogs out, feeds them, turns
on computer, reads email as she eats
toast and cheese. An extra cup of coffee
if lucky. She takes dogs out again, dashes
out to drive across the city to pick up
grandchildren, delivers grandson to school
and granddaughter accompanies her to
the YMCA. In blue jeans and t-shirt, she walks
treadmill for an hour, perhaps two, periodically
checks email on Blackberry, then Facebook.
Determined, she walks with earphones attached
to the television as she watches CNN, The View.
She has a book with her in case she's inspired
to read for a while. This seldom happens. She
usually opts to keep walking or use weight
machines. Or sometimes at the end of the
workout she will just sit, have another cup
of coffee, stare into space, as her morning
routine comes to an end for another day.
Who is This Woman?
Hair streaked with blonde and red which covers any grey that exists
and there doesn't seem to be much; it is still her bright blue eyes that
stand out. Her eyes always her good feature. Blue, intense, they dance.
Face she realizes is now lined with wrinkles where smooth pink used
to be. She never sees lines in her mind. Only in mirrors or photographs.
She sees herself still with a soft summer tan, hair blowing in the breeze.
She is tall and lean with small waist, breast, and butt. She likes her
body. It fits her, and she fits it. She is as lean as she's ever been
and wants to keep it that way. She is active, energetic, walks inside
and out, uses weight machines, though doesn't enjoy them. She's
always hungry, watches what she eats, enjoys healthy foods,
watches numbers on the scale. doesn't want to gain weight, won't.
She organizes, multi-tasks, moves fast, likes things in order,
in their place, clean. She is a perfectionist, frustrated as she
cannot be as perfect as she wants. She knows what's right,
may be blunt, is persistent, impatient, likes to write and think
and laugh. She likes to be with people, prefers individuals
or small groups, and treasures her own company most of all.
She awakes early, turns on coffee,
takes dogs out, feeds them, turns
on computer, reads email as she eats
toast and cheese. An extra cup of coffee
if lucky. She takes dogs out again, dashes
out to drive across the city to pick up
grandchildren, delivers grandson to school
and granddaughter accompanies her to
the YMCA. In blue jeans and t-shirt, she walks
treadmill for an hour, perhaps two, periodically
checks email on Blackberry, then Facebook.
Determined, she walks with earphones attached
to the television as she watches CNN, The View.
She has a book with her in case she's inspired
to read for a while. This seldom happens. She
usually opts to keep walking or use weight
machines. Or sometimes at the end of the
workout she will just sit, have another cup
of coffee, stare into space, as her morning
routine comes to an end for another day.
Who is This Woman?
Hair streaked with blonde and red which covers any grey that exists
and there doesn't seem to be much; it is still her bright blue eyes that
stand out. Her eyes always her good feature. Blue, intense, they dance.
Face she realizes is now lined with wrinkles where smooth pink used
to be. She never sees lines in her mind. Only in mirrors or photographs.
She sees herself still with a soft summer tan, hair blowing in the breeze.
She is tall and lean with small waist, breast, and butt. She likes her
body. It fits her, and she fits it. She is as lean as she's ever been
and wants to keep it that way. She is active, energetic, walks inside
and out, uses weight machines, though doesn't enjoy them. She's
always hungry, watches what she eats, enjoys healthy foods,
watches numbers on the scale. doesn't want to gain weight, won't.
She organizes, multi-tasks, moves fast, likes things in order,
in their place, clean. She is a perfectionist, frustrated as she
cannot be as perfect as she wants. She knows what's right,
may be blunt, is persistent, impatient, likes to write and think
and laugh. She likes to be with people, prefers individuals
or small groups, and treasures her own company most of all.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Until
Until # 1
Until I am able to say something nice
I will not speak, as if I speak too soon I
will regret it and once words are said
they cannot be unsaid. At least I learned
until the next time.
Until # 2
Until dinner I will try to refrain
from eating, though it is so
easy to take a few almonds,
then a few more, popcorn,
yogurt, maybe an orange.
Perhaps I should move my
computer out of the kitchen.
Until # 3
Until tomorrow morning I have time for myself
an hour or maybe two at most before I sleep,
but it's mine to do what I want just for me,
to answer to no one; and then tomorrow it
begins again, the treadmill of life, as I juggle
others' needs and wants, finish what needs
to be done, clean messes, try to do something
useful, and smile whether I want to or not.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Hiring Annie
Hiring Annie
Somehow I don't think Pocohantas
looked the way Annie Liebowitz portrayed
her. I think I will hire Annie to paint
me to look like Sofia Loren. Oh what
a sexy woman I will be. Ooh la la!
Somehow I don't think Pocohantas
looked the way Annie Liebowitz portrayed
her. I think I will hire Annie to paint
me to look like Sofia Loren. Oh what
a sexy woman I will be. Ooh la la!
Monday, April 5, 2010
Tiger
Tiger
Tiger said all he needs to say,
there is nothing he has to add.
He admitted his serious mistakes,
apologized, taken responsibility,
sought help, is rebuilding his life.
Now let the man alone to play golf .
Every person deserves a second
chance especially if he tries so hard.
And we all know more than enough!
Tiger said all he needs to say,
there is nothing he has to add.
He admitted his serious mistakes,
apologized, taken responsibility,
sought help, is rebuilding his life.
Now let the man alone to play golf .
Every person deserves a second
chance especially if he tries so hard.
And we all know more than enough!
Sunday, April 4, 2010
End of the Road
End of the Road
She taught me to drive her stick shift car so
we could travel from Wisconsin to Nova Scotia
and I could help her drive, but I hated the stick
and she hated to have me drive so I was a passenger
to Nova Scotia and back a different route in ten days.
We were on the road all day, morning until dinner at
night, seldom stopped except to eat or sleep. I don't
know what all we saw with all this driving, but I do know
she didn't want the air conditioner on in July heat. But
every night a motel the air conditioner blasted cold.
So I waited until she slept, then got up and turned the
air conditioner off. Sometime later she awoke and turned
the air conditioner on. It was this way the entire trip.
I wanted a cold car, she wanted a cold motel room.
It was hard. I usually lost the battle. It was her car.
I remember L.L. Bean in Freeport, Maine, and Peggy's
Cove, Nova Scotia, our end destination. I have pictures
to prove I was there, and then we started home again,
this time through Toronto. We ended up in a seedy hotel
and were tired of each other as much as we were tired.
I walked around Toronto on my own and had a
good time. I don't know what she did, but at night
the air conditioner blasted.Two nights there, and it
was the end of the journey. We made record time
back to Wisconsin, didn't see each other since.
She taught me to drive her stick shift car so
we could travel from Wisconsin to Nova Scotia
and I could help her drive, but I hated the stick
and she hated to have me drive so I was a passenger
to Nova Scotia and back a different route in ten days.
We were on the road all day, morning until dinner at
night, seldom stopped except to eat or sleep. I don't
know what all we saw with all this driving, but I do know
she didn't want the air conditioner on in July heat. But
every night a motel the air conditioner blasted cold.
So I waited until she slept, then got up and turned the
air conditioner off. Sometime later she awoke and turned
the air conditioner on. It was this way the entire trip.
I wanted a cold car, she wanted a cold motel room.
It was hard. I usually lost the battle. It was her car.
I remember L.L. Bean in Freeport, Maine, and Peggy's
Cove, Nova Scotia, our end destination. I have pictures
to prove I was there, and then we started home again,
this time through Toronto. We ended up in a seedy hotel
and were tired of each other as much as we were tired.
I walked around Toronto on my own and had a
good time. I don't know what she did, but at night
the air conditioner blasted.Two nights there, and it
was the end of the journey. We made record time
back to Wisconsin, didn't see each other since.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Partly Poetry
Partly Poetry
Partly happy is better than sad
partly sunny better than rain
partly written poem better than
no words written at all.
Friday, April 2, 2010
The River
The River
Many young men drown in the Mississippi River
downtown LaCrosse after bars close. Eight young
men in thirteen years made their way to the river
three blocks from night life, bodies discovered later.
All died alone, no friends or other witnesses.
Families would like to believe there is a serial killer:
Someone harmed their sons, there was foul play
before somone pushed them into the river. . They
sought the help of detectives and FBI. No coincidence,
they say. Too many met this awful fate. Find the killer.
But investigations have proved there is no killer.
Heavy drinking is the cause, the river the means but
innocent of malice. It carries each body, as it swirls
and bobs;and late at night in the rushing waters
there is no escape. The river just flows and flows.
Many young men drown in the Mississippi River
downtown LaCrosse after bars close. Eight young
men in thirteen years made their way to the river
three blocks from night life, bodies discovered later.
All died alone, no friends or other witnesses.
Families would like to believe there is a serial killer:
Someone harmed their sons, there was foul play
before somone pushed them into the river. . They
sought the help of detectives and FBI. No coincidence,
they say. Too many met this awful fate. Find the killer.
But investigations have proved there is no killer.
Heavy drinking is the cause, the river the means but
innocent of malice. It carries each body, as it swirls
and bobs;and late at night in the rushing waters
there is no escape. The river just flows and flows.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Lonely
Lonely
Lonely party
people smile laugh
I smile too, talk, laugh
a bit too loud maybe.
look at my watch
want to go home
how much longer
must I stay?
Has anyone left yet?
Is it still too soon?
I wanted to be here
to see everyone, and
I like these people,
but now I want home.
When can I leave?
Two hours is enough
for me to move from person
to person, group to group,
ask questions, answer
them. I laugh at everyone
who thinks they are clever.
I smile at stories, tell a few
of my own, but my heart
is not in it. I want to go
home where I can relax,
smile or laugh or not.
I'm lonely in this crowd.
Lonely party
people smile laugh
I smile too, talk, laugh
a bit too loud maybe.
look at my watch
want to go home
how much longer
must I stay?
Has anyone left yet?
Is it still too soon?
I wanted to be here
to see everyone, and
I like these people,
but now I want home.
When can I leave?
Two hours is enough
for me to move from person
to person, group to group,
ask questions, answer
them. I laugh at everyone
who thinks they are clever.
I smile at stories, tell a few
of my own, but my heart
is not in it. I want to go
home where I can relax,
smile or laugh or not.
I'm lonely in this crowd.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Flashlight
Flashlight
I keep many flashlights handy
at home, along with spare batteries,
in case the electricity goes out or I
need light in the middle of the night
and don't want to turn on a lamp.
Sometimes when I awake early I use
a flashlight to find my way around.
A flashlight is a necessity. I can
always reach one from my bed.
When I travel and sleep in a strange
place, I often hold a flashlight as I
sleep just in case and use it if I get
up in the middle of the night, to find
things I need in the dark, or to get up
early and not wake anyone. A
flashlight is a form of security. It is
small but feels mighty.
Freedom
Freedom
Who has freedom really? There
is always someone or even an
animal whose needs dictate what
any person does. There is always
someone or some task tugging at
at a person's life. The only way
one might be totally free might be
the person lived on an island alone.
But would this freedom be worth
losing all one's connections?
I don't think so. I prefer a
life with less personal freedom!
Who has freedom really? There
is always someone or even an
animal whose needs dictate what
any person does. There is always
someone or some task tugging at
at a person's life. The only way
one might be totally free might be
the person lived on an island alone.
But would this freedom be worth
losing all one's connections?
I don't think so. I prefer a
life with less personal freedom!
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Oh No (3 poems)
Oh No
Oh no, snow on the ground again
though it is the first day of spring
all that had a hint of green is
blanketed with white once more.
------
Oh no, I can't sleep. What will I do?
Perhaps I'll turn on television and hope
to intrigue my mind, trick it into sleep
before I realize. Maybe I'll look at my
Blackberry and see if there is news
I missed. I can answer an email or two.
Maybe I'll just lie here, stare into the
darkness for a while. What will I do?
----
Oh no, I can't shake the sadness about
the friend who said she didn't and would
not read my blog. She once did read,
but never commented, but now she made
it clear she doesn't look at all, though
I invite her too. She said she sees me,
knows what I do. She doesn't understand
the importance of words, that an invitation
to read my words is a great gift. I won't
feel the same about this person I thought
cared about me. I realize she doesn't,
as my words are me.
Oh no, snow on the ground again
though it is the first day of spring
all that had a hint of green is
blanketed with white once more.
------
Oh no, I can't sleep. What will I do?
Perhaps I'll turn on television and hope
to intrigue my mind, trick it into sleep
before I realize. Maybe I'll look at my
Blackberry and see if there is news
I missed. I can answer an email or two.
Maybe I'll just lie here, stare into the
darkness for a while. What will I do?
----
Oh no, I can't shake the sadness about
the friend who said she didn't and would
not read my blog. She once did read,
but never commented, but now she made
it clear she doesn't look at all, though
I invite her too. She said she sees me,
knows what I do. She doesn't understand
the importance of words, that an invitation
to read my words is a great gift. I won't
feel the same about this person I thought
cared about me. I realize she doesn't,
as my words are me.
Oh Yes
Oh Yes
Oh yes,
I try to be optimistic,
but it isn't always easy.
I try to enjoy each day,
but it isn't always easy.
I try to be the strong person,
but it isn't always easy.
I try to accept,
but it isnt always easy.
I try to forgive,
but it isn't always easy.
Oh yes.
Oh yes,
I try to be optimistic,
but it isn't always easy.
I try to enjoy each day,
but it isn't always easy.
I try to be the strong person,
but it isn't always easy.
I try to accept,
but it isnt always easy.
I try to forgive,
but it isn't always easy.
Oh yes.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
The Color of March
The Color of March
There is some green in March
not much but some, only a
touch of optimism and
potential growth. Mostly
March is a dirty month, tan
and soggy, a month that
can't quite decide, could
go either way, snow or rain,
cool or warm. The yard will
need to be cleaned, but not
yet. Too early, soggy ground,
respite before real work begins,
a monthto walk dogs, to
appreciate nature's indecision.
March is a carefree month, as
I know what lies ahead
There is some green in March
not much but some, only a
touch of optimism and
potential growth. Mostly
March is a dirty month, tan
and soggy, a month that
can't quite decide, could
go either way, snow or rain,
cool or warm. The yard will
need to be cleaned, but not
yet. Too early, soggy ground,
respite before real work begins,
a monthto walk dogs, to
appreciate nature's indecision.
March is a carefree month, as
I know what lies ahead
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Remember me?
Remember Me?
Remember me, Dad? I am the child who
chose a compass as a souvenir on our
vacation. I thought it would be fun to use,
but couldn’t figure out how it worked. So I
asked you to explain, and you tried and tried,
but your explanation made no sense to me,
and the more words you used the more
frustrated you became and I cried because
I so wanted to understand something that should
have been so simple but wasn't. We finally put
the compass away. I did not learn to use
the compass that day. It was years before I
made sense out of a compass. Even now,
every time I pick up a compass I see the pained
look on your face and feel the lump in my throat.
Remember me, Dad? I am the child who
chose a compass as a souvenir on our
vacation. I thought it would be fun to use,
but couldn’t figure out how it worked. So I
asked you to explain, and you tried and tried,
but your explanation made no sense to me,
and the more words you used the more
frustrated you became and I cried because
I so wanted to understand something that should
have been so simple but wasn't. We finally put
the compass away. I did not learn to use
the compass that day. It was years before I
made sense out of a compass. Even now,
every time I pick up a compass I see the pained
look on your face and feel the lump in my throat.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Listen
Listen
Listen,
I never dreamed
I would someday
be this old. I
don't think anyone
every dreams they
will be old.
Everyone thinks
they will be young
forever,that they
have unlimited time.
For some years
everyone buys into
this illusion, and
perhaps this is not
a bad thing..
Listen,
I never dreamed
I would someday
be this old. I
don't think anyone
every dreams they
will be old.
Everyone thinks
they will be young
forever,that they
have unlimited time.
For some years
everyone buys into
this illusion, and
perhaps this is not
a bad thing..
Remember Me?
Remember me?
Remember me?
I am the girl
with blonde hair
and blue eyes,
the one you did
not pay much
attention to,
in fact ignored
as you fantasized
about cheerleaders
who are by now
out of shape
and I am not.
Funny how times
change, don't
you think?
Remember me?
I am the girl
with blonde hair
and blue eyes,
the one you did
not pay much
attention to,
in fact ignored
as you fantasized
about cheerleaders
who are by now
out of shape
and I am not.
Funny how times
change, don't
you think?
I Was Kissed Once
I Was Kissed Once
I was kissed once
by a college senior
when I was a college
freshman and though
I had thought I liked
him the intensity of
his kiss scared me,
so I never went out
with him again.
I was kissed once
by a college senior
when I was a college
freshman and though
I had thought I liked
him the intensity of
his kiss scared me,
so I never went out
with him again.
They Who Feel Death
They Who Feel Death
They who feel death close as a breath
and live to talk about it later often
appreciate life in a way that many do not
and though they do not speak about it
you can tell by the look on their faces.
They who feel death close as a breath
and live to talk about it later often
appreciate life in a way that many do not
and though they do not speak about it
you can tell by the look on their faces.
I Remember
I Remember
I remember
seeing
a little girl
one moment
in time
and when I
blinked
and looked
again she
was grown
and had a
little girl
of her own.
I remember
seeing
a little girl
one moment
in time
and when I
blinked
and looked
again she
was grown
and had a
little girl
of her own.
When One Has Lived a Long Time
When One Has Lived a Long Time
When one has lived a long time sometimes it is hard
to realize that to many people whose paths you cross daily
you are old, even though you feel so young inside and are
active and energetic. Your face does not lie. Appearance
does not deceive. You cannot hide the fact, even if you
might wish to, that you are old
When one has lived a long time sometimes it is hard
to realize that to many people whose paths you cross daily
you are old, even though you feel so young inside and are
active and energetic. Your face does not lie. Appearance
does not deceive. You cannot hide the fact, even if you
might wish to, that you are old
Looking At Your Face (To Mya)
Looking at Your Face
(To Mya)
Looking at your face I try to figure out
what you are thinking but you are only
two years old, and I am not quite sure
that even you know.
(To Mya)
Looking at your face I try to figure out
what you are thinking but you are only
two years old, and I am not quite sure
that even you know.
If One Day It Happens
If One Day It Happens
If one day it happens that it is my last day on earth
let me savor the day fully, let me tell every person
who is important to me that I love them, let me spend
time with my dogs, let me fold my hands in prayer to
ask for forgiveness for all I did and for all I did
not know. Let me go in peace, loving and loved. Amen.
If one day it happens that it is my last day on earth
let me savor the day fully, let me tell every person
who is important to me that I love them, let me spend
time with my dogs, let me fold my hands in prayer to
ask for forgiveness for all I did and for all I did
not know. Let me go in peace, loving and loved. Amen.
In Late Winter
In Late Winter
In late winter I sometimes glimpse a bit of
grass, though brown, beneath the snow, and
I know that spring is on the horizon. Days
lengthen. I wake up when it is almost light.
I am excited once again that rebirth happens,
that everything that waits beneath the snow will
soon renew. In late winter I am optimistic again.
In late winter I sometimes glimpse a bit of
grass, though brown, beneath the snow, and
I know that spring is on the horizon. Days
lengthen. I wake up when it is almost light.
I am excited once again that rebirth happens,
that everything that waits beneath the snow will
soon renew. In late winter I am optimistic again.
Friday, February 26, 2010
In Response to..Why do you Talk So Much?
In Response to Why Do You Talk So Much?
I don't know anyone who talks too much.
Mostly I wish people would talk more, as
I like to listen to others' philosophies,
experiences, and dreams. I know I don't do
well with silence though,so if there is
silence I will try to fill it; but I would
rather fill it with someone else's voice than
mine. Sometimes talking for me is hard work.
I don't know anyone who talks too much.
Mostly I wish people would talk more, as
I like to listen to others' philosophies,
experiences, and dreams. I know I don't do
well with silence though,so if there is
silence I will try to fill it; but I would
rather fill it with someone else's voice than
mine. Sometimes talking for me is hard work.
I Sit a Minute
I Sit a Minute
I sit a minute and plan to read my book
but something else calls out for attention,
something I just must do, and after about
two weeks of trying to read the book I
have only read one chapter. I will try
again tomorrow. Maybe then I will succeed.
I sit a minute and plan to read my book
but something else calls out for attention,
something I just must do, and after about
two weeks of trying to read the book I
have only read one chapter. I will try
again tomorrow. Maybe then I will succeed.
How Many Nights?
How Many Nights?
1,
How many nights have I lain
sleepless, flipping channels,
looking for something that
hold my interest? It is only
if there is something good
on television that I can
concentrate on that knowing
I will again be able to sleep.
2.
How many nights have I gone
to bed early after awakening
early and going nonstop from
the moment my eyes opened
until I finally felt the need
to crash?. Often way too early,
but this odd pattern fits me
as I am a morning person anyway,
always have been, always will be.
3.
How many nights have I sat down
to watch something on television
only to find my eyes won't stay
open, especially if its a program
I don't want to miss.
1,
How many nights have I lain
sleepless, flipping channels,
looking for something that
hold my interest? It is only
if there is something good
on television that I can
concentrate on that knowing
I will again be able to sleep.
2.
How many nights have I gone
to bed early after awakening
early and going nonstop from
the moment my eyes opened
until I finally felt the need
to crash?. Often way too early,
but this odd pattern fits me
as I am a morning person anyway,
always have been, always will be.
3.
How many nights have I sat down
to watch something on television
only to find my eyes won't stay
open, especially if its a program
I don't want to miss.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Competitor
Competitor
You test the courage of every muscle
and the power of a focused mind.
It's your personal best magnified,
stretched to the limit even when it hurts
so bad that every tendon aches to its core.
You just want to leave the race but don't
because you know that today is your one
chance to excel and you tell yourself that
you can, and you do, every four years.
You test the courage of every muscle
and the power of a focused mind.
It's your personal best magnified,
stretched to the limit even when it hurts
so bad that every tendon aches to its core.
You just want to leave the race but don't
because you know that today is your one
chance to excel and you tell yourself that
you can, and you do, every four years.
Solitude
Solitude
Though I am surrounded by others
I hardly notice them as when I'm
there I go into my own head for
solitude in my own endeavors. It
is MY time for body and mind. I
walk the treadmill, and my thoughts
travel where they will as I watch TV
of my choice to catch up on the
news of the day or enjoy 'hot topics'
discussed on The View. I feel my
body and mind relax, stresses
fade away. I know I'm doing a
good thing.This is my time, my
time of solitude, when I can do
what I want for no one but me
working out at the YMCA..
Though I am surrounded by others
I hardly notice them as when I'm
there I go into my own head for
solitude in my own endeavors. It
is MY time for body and mind. I
walk the treadmill, and my thoughts
travel where they will as I watch TV
of my choice to catch up on the
news of the day or enjoy 'hot topics'
discussed on The View. I feel my
body and mind relax, stresses
fade away. I know I'm doing a
good thing.This is my time, my
time of solitude, when I can do
what I want for no one but me
working out at the YMCA..
Living With Chocolate
Living with Chocolate
If someone gives me a box of fancy chocolate candy
I eat it in a very few days. It gnaws at me as I walk
by it. I'll take one piece. I'll take just one more.
If I finish the whole box then it will be gone, and I won't
have to think about it any longer. Just two more, even
if they are not my favorites, and the box will be gone.
I usually don't eat candy at all. I don't even think about
it unless I see it somewhere. My beautician usually
has little candies sitting out, and when I go there I
generally have one or perhaps two. A special treat.
And that's okay. I enjoy them. But I don't buy candy,
don't even notice it in the store. I can't remember the
last time I bought candy. I will not buy it ever.
But last night when I was at the party, there was
a dish filled with simple M & M's. I do love M & M's.
I had to put my hand into that dish two or three times
to grab some. And someone had made some little treats
with chocolates and walnuts and I had to have a number
of these too. More than a few. I savored them.
I know that within me resides the potential to eat too
much chocolate candy. I am thankful that I can
generally exercise self control to the point of not even
noticing it unless it is freely available somewhere out
in public and I can help myself to a few. I am thankful
that chocolate candy does not usually make its way
into my house where I have to eat it until it is gone.
I am thankful I've learned to live with chocolate.
If someone gives me a box of fancy chocolate candy
I eat it in a very few days. It gnaws at me as I walk
by it. I'll take one piece. I'll take just one more.
If I finish the whole box then it will be gone, and I won't
have to think about it any longer. Just two more, even
if they are not my favorites, and the box will be gone.
I usually don't eat candy at all. I don't even think about
it unless I see it somewhere. My beautician usually
has little candies sitting out, and when I go there I
generally have one or perhaps two. A special treat.
And that's okay. I enjoy them. But I don't buy candy,
don't even notice it in the store. I can't remember the
last time I bought candy. I will not buy it ever.
But last night when I was at the party, there was
a dish filled with simple M & M's. I do love M & M's.
I had to put my hand into that dish two or three times
to grab some. And someone had made some little treats
with chocolates and walnuts and I had to have a number
of these too. More than a few. I savored them.
I know that within me resides the potential to eat too
much chocolate candy. I am thankful that I can
generally exercise self control to the point of not even
noticing it unless it is freely available somewhere out
in public and I can help myself to a few. I am thankful
that chocolate candy does not usually make its way
into my house where I have to eat it until it is gone.
I am thankful I've learned to live with chocolate.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
For Alice Walker
For Alice Walker
When I
see the
way
you write
poetry
it does not
inspire me
at all.
Instead I
think
what a waste
of paper
for so
few words
and what
a waste
of trees!
I wonder,
dear Alice,
how
expensive
such a book?
When I
see the
way
you write
poetry
it does not
inspire me
at all.
Instead I
think
what a waste
of paper
for so
few words
and what
a waste
of trees!
I wonder,
dear Alice,
how
expensive
such a book?
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Sweet Peace
Sweet Peace
She sits and waits for what she
doesn't have, stares at walls, peers
from behind drawn curtains, watches
life dash by outside her desolate prison.
Her life stands still.
She makes excuses, curses fate. Life
isn't fair, she reasons from within her
lethargy, then turns from the window,
turns on TV, makes the world vanish.
Alas, her mind stand still.
She sits and waits for what she
doesn't have, stares at walls, peers
from behind drawn curtains, watches
life dash by outside her desolate prison.
Her life stands still.
She makes excuses, curses fate. Life
isn't fair, she reasons from within her
lethargy, then turns from the window,
turns on TV, makes the world vanish.
Alas, her mind stand still.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Time Travel
Time Travel
With no desire to go forward into the future I put my mind into
reverse and traveled back through time to try to figure
out how I happened to be in this place today. As year
after year was stripped away and secrets unraveled one by one,
I kept my mind open and clear, found myself meeting myself
younger after every turn, wrinkles diminished then gone, muscles
tighter then taut again, gray streaked hair renewed to blonde. I observed
signs missed the first time around, clues to the path I'd follow
to the person I'd become. Fifties, forties, thirties, twenties,
all faded away, as I embraced each younger self and walked on,
wiser the second time around. Alas I observed myself a teen
for a moment in time, caught between child and adult with
dreams, fears, all unknowns ahead, so many years to live. Hard
to fathom now. Then I opened the heavy gate into childhood, where
I stood face to face with the blue-eyed girl with wispy blonde hair
blowing in the wind. She put her hand in mine, urged me to continue
along the backward path and showed me the last door to open
on this journey if I dared. The child dropped my hand, looked into
my still blue eyes, then turned away as I opened the door into the
room that held a crib. A sleeping baby embraced a pink rabbit. So
new to life, innocent, unmarked, possibilities unrevealed and ahead.
I stood with tears in my eyes, realized that the baby was me. I wanted
to wake her, hold her, tell her though life would not always be easy
it would be all right. Everything would be all right. I promised her that
before I turned around, ready to walk back to the future again, carry on.
With no desire to go forward into the future I put my mind into
reverse and traveled back through time to try to figure
out how I happened to be in this place today. As year
after year was stripped away and secrets unraveled one by one,
I kept my mind open and clear, found myself meeting myself
younger after every turn, wrinkles diminished then gone, muscles
tighter then taut again, gray streaked hair renewed to blonde. I observed
signs missed the first time around, clues to the path I'd follow
to the person I'd become. Fifties, forties, thirties, twenties,
all faded away, as I embraced each younger self and walked on,
wiser the second time around. Alas I observed myself a teen
for a moment in time, caught between child and adult with
dreams, fears, all unknowns ahead, so many years to live. Hard
to fathom now. Then I opened the heavy gate into childhood, where
I stood face to face with the blue-eyed girl with wispy blonde hair
blowing in the wind. She put her hand in mine, urged me to continue
along the backward path and showed me the last door to open
on this journey if I dared. The child dropped my hand, looked into
my still blue eyes, then turned away as I opened the door into the
room that held a crib. A sleeping baby embraced a pink rabbit. So
new to life, innocent, unmarked, possibilities unrevealed and ahead.
I stood with tears in my eyes, realized that the baby was me. I wanted
to wake her, hold her, tell her though life would not always be easy
it would be all right. Everything would be all right. I promised her that
before I turned around, ready to walk back to the future again, carry on.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Possibility / Impossibilities (Acrostic Poems)
Possibility
Perhaps good will come
of what I do each day
so many lessons
so little time but
in the time I have I
bring my heart and
if it is not enough
love is what I give and
in the end hope
they remember many
years from now.
Impossibilities
It really is not easy for me to
mind my own business some times
perhaps this is the fatal flaw
of the Virgo who knows how things
should be done, hates disarrary,
sometimes beats herself up
if she cannot be all things for all
but she tries to do what she can
in doing so she cuts herself short
looks out for others' needs
instead of her own and mostly
tries to be the best she can be
in spite of her shortcomings and
especially tries hard to keep
silent and keep walking on.
Perhaps good will come
of what I do each day
so many lessons
so little time but
in the time I have I
bring my heart and
if it is not enough
love is what I give and
in the end hope
they remember many
years from now.
Impossibilities
It really is not easy for me to
mind my own business some times
perhaps this is the fatal flaw
of the Virgo who knows how things
should be done, hates disarrary,
sometimes beats herself up
if she cannot be all things for all
but she tries to do what she can
in doing so she cuts herself short
looks out for others' needs
instead of her own and mostly
tries to be the best she can be
in spite of her shortcomings and
especially tries hard to keep
silent and keep walking on.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Freezing
Freezing
I take the dogs outside when
the temperature is bitter, and
sometimes reflect on how lonely
it would be to freeze to death.
I shiver outside with the dogs,
regret that I left the house
without warm hat and gloves,
think it will only be a moment.
I stand on ice and snow, see
in my mind the homemade posters,
pictures of a little white dog lost
in my neighborhood, reward offered.
Midwest winter is brutal for dogs and
humans. I pray the poster dog
is alive, home with its loving owner
who forgot to remove posters that
are up way too long. Or I hope
the dog has been found by
someone and has a warm bed.
Even if it was stolen, I hope
it is now safe and loved. I can't
bear the thought that it just escaped
from home somehow, door opened
on a cold night, became lost in
the snow-covered darkness
to freeze to death all alone. How
I wish the posters would be gone!
How I wish I'd remember my hat.
I take the dogs outside when
the temperature is bitter, and
sometimes reflect on how lonely
it would be to freeze to death.
I shiver outside with the dogs,
regret that I left the house
without warm hat and gloves,
think it will only be a moment.
I stand on ice and snow, see
in my mind the homemade posters,
pictures of a little white dog lost
in my neighborhood, reward offered.
Midwest winter is brutal for dogs and
humans. I pray the poster dog
is alive, home with its loving owner
who forgot to remove posters that
are up way too long. Or I hope
the dog has been found by
someone and has a warm bed.
Even if it was stolen, I hope
it is now safe and loved. I can't
bear the thought that it just escaped
from home somehow, door opened
on a cold night, became lost in
the snow-covered darkness
to freeze to death all alone. How
I wish the posters would be gone!
How I wish I'd remember my hat.
I Wish I'd Known
I Wish I'd Known
I wish I'd known how fast
the years would pass
how little time we have
the impermanence of all
that we have and how
unimportant most things
become if we don't have
health, that little matters
then in the end except
who we have touched how.
Door
Door
Every weekday I open the door,
don't know what I will find. I try to
remain hopeful. Sometime hope
is rewarded, sometimes not
Every weekday I open the door,
don't know what I will find. I try to
remain hopeful. Sometime hope
is rewarded, sometimes not
The Bed
The Bed
The rail broke on Tgegranddaughter's crib, so the
father's foster father bought an inexpensive toddler
bed but instead of putting it together it was dropped
off at daughter's house in a box. She tried to put it
together but was not successful. Wouldn't you
think the men would put it together? So the father
said he would put it together but the night he was
supposed to do this he was too late (no surprise),
so he said he'd come the following night. Last night!
Then it was discovered that all of the parts included
were not right, so it could not be put together at all.
I don't know if this is true or not, and I am truthfully
not interested in dealing with this gift of a bed, as
if I had given something I would have put it together,
but damn this was not my gift nor should it become
my job. So this morning I asked daughter what will
happen now and she said she had to call the company
that made the bed. And I said this wasn't right, as she
has no timeto do this so I told her that I would box up the
incomplete bed (thank god the box still was around) and
that she should take it ove rto the foster father's house
and present it back to him and let him deal with Sears and
his gift of the the bed. I really know that if it were left as is
in my daughter's house that it would be sitting there
yet in June incomplete and by then some the parts would
be lost, which would mean greater problems. To box it up,
I had to locate the screws which my daughter did not know
where they were. Thank god I found them after she left for
work, as finding things there is never an easy task. So the
bed is ready now, boxed by me, only has to be taken to car.
I pray I will not find the box sitting right where I left it when
I come again on Monday, but I wouldn't doubt it will.
And I would guess granddaughter will never sleep
in a toddler bed. All of this upsets me greatly, and
sometimes I wonder if it would be better if I didn't know
and could believe in fairy tales and princess beds.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
I Wonder
I Wonder
I wonder if I lost the ability to write
as nothing seems new, fresh. Nothing
makes creativity flow. My hands stand
still on the keyboard. The circuits of my
mind search each mental cranny for
inspiration, something, anything. They
find nothing.all topics done, redone, my
thoughts bore me. My words and thoughts
are redundant, all has been expressed before
or is of interest to no one, not even me.
I wonder if this happens to everyone, and
I wonder if this feeling will pass. I wonder
if someday my fingers will be sparked to
move on the keyboard again, ideas alive
once more so I will again create.
I wonder if I lost the ability to write
as nothing seems new, fresh. Nothing
makes creativity flow. My hands stand
still on the keyboard. The circuits of my
mind search each mental cranny for
inspiration, something, anything. They
find nothing.all topics done, redone, my
thoughts bore me. My words and thoughts
are redundant, all has been expressed before
or is of interest to no one, not even me.
I wonder if this happens to everyone, and
I wonder if this feeling will pass. I wonder
if someday my fingers will be sparked to
move on the keyboard again, ideas alive
once more so I will again create.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Far Less to Say
I have far less to say
than i used to. My words
no longer seem important. I
keep my thoughts inside
me, for better or worse.
I no longer babble on when
what I have to say is really
inconsequential even to me.
than i used to. My words
no longer seem important. I
keep my thoughts inside
me, for better or worse.
I no longer babble on when
what I have to say is really
inconsequential even to me.
A Stronger Me
As I live I hope to
become a stronger me
each day: to strengthen
my body or mind, to be of
stronger character or
conviction. As I die
I hope for stronger arms
than mine to carry me home.
become a stronger me
each day: to strengthen
my body or mind, to be of
stronger character or
conviction. As I die
I hope for stronger arms
than mine to carry me home.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Beginnings
Beginnings
What should I begin now in the
new year? What goals should
I focus on? What challenges
should I accept? What should I
strive to accomplish in the year
that stretches ahead?
Perhaps I should abandon goals
and challenges and flow with
the rhythm of each day. I could
rise each morn, stretch arms to sky,
breathe in, breathe out, relax without
previous plan, and do whatever
catches my interest, spontaneous,
free as a child again?
What should I begin now in the
new year? What goals should
I focus on? What challenges
should I accept? What should I
strive to accomplish in the year
that stretches ahead?
Perhaps I should abandon goals
and challenges and flow with
the rhythm of each day. I could
rise each morn, stretch arms to sky,
breathe in, breathe out, relax without
previous plan, and do whatever
catches my interest, spontaneous,
free as a child again?
Afterlife
Afterlife
How will it happen, my passsage from life to afterlife?
Will it happen quickly or slowly? Will it be painful
or merely a sensation of transition from one form
to another? Will I be conscious or will there
be a time of sleep from which I will awake to
find myself having across the chasm from which
there is no return?
If I find myself in heaven, will I remember my past life,
yearn for the familiar, or will memories fade in
eternity, as I am embraced by the arms of God?
Will there be reunions with people and pets, joyful
smiles and voices, knownand unknown joining in
fellowship without frowns, with warmth, joy,
cloudless sky? Will I remember people I knew on
earth who are not with me? Will I realize who is
missing? I think not, as there will be no tears,
but how will I forget them? Tell me how.
How will it happen, my passsage from life to afterlife?
Will it happen quickly or slowly? Will it be painful
or merely a sensation of transition from one form
to another? Will I be conscious or will there
be a time of sleep from which I will awake to
find myself having across the chasm from which
there is no return?
If I find myself in heaven, will I remember my past life,
yearn for the familiar, or will memories fade in
eternity, as I am embraced by the arms of God?
Will there be reunions with people and pets, joyful
smiles and voices, knownand unknown joining in
fellowship without frowns, with warmth, joy,
cloudless sky? Will I remember people I knew on
earth who are not with me? Will I realize who is
missing? I think not, as there will be no tears,
but how will I forget them? Tell me how.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
One
ONE
Only one day before I fly
time moves so quickly
but yet it crawls
so much to do to
get ready to fly such
a distance, to stay
so long. It will be my
longest flight ever,
to Singapore, and we
will cruise beyond. It
will be so exciting
to see the many exotic
places I'd never dreamed
of seeing before this year.
Only one day before I fly
time moves so quickly
but yet it crawls
so much to do to
get ready to fly such
a distance, to stay
so long. It will be my
longest flight ever,
to Singapore, and we
will cruise beyond. It
will be so exciting
to see the many exotic
places I'd never dreamed
of seeing before this year.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Through This Life
Through This Life
Through this life I traveled
one day at a time, one year
at a time. When I was young
the days and years didn't matter
too much. There would always
be more, and the difference
between one year and another
was basically imperceptible.
But when I reached thirty I
began to take note. Where
was I headed now that I
was no longer young? Lots
of soul searching in those
years, one day at a time,
one year at a time.
I feared fifty, but my fifties
were the happiest years of my life,
years for me, to enjoy, to savor,
amazing days, amazing years.
And now the 60's, hoping for
the best, years of creaitivity,
travel, new goals, new friends,
keeping the old, moving forward
one day at a time, one year
at a time, never looking back
Through this life I traveled
one day at a time, one year
at a time. When I was young
the days and years didn't matter
too much. There would always
be more, and the difference
between one year and another
was basically imperceptible.
But when I reached thirty I
began to take note. Where
was I headed now that I
was no longer young? Lots
of soul searching in those
years, one day at a time,
one year at a time.
I feared fifty, but my fifties
were the happiest years of my life,
years for me, to enjoy, to savor,
amazing days, amazing years.
And now the 60's, hoping for
the best, years of creaitivity,
travel, new goals, new friends,
keeping the old, moving forward
one day at a time, one year
at a time, never looking back
Friday, November 27, 2009
Acceptance
Acceptance
People come in many sizes,
shapes. Some are tall,
some short, some thin,
some fat. God loves them
all the way they are. So
should I....... and you.
People come in many sizes,
shapes. Some are tall,
some short, some thin,
some fat. God loves them
all the way they are. So
should I....... and you.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Thanksgiving Thankfulness
Thanksgiving Thankfulness
I am thankful
most of the time
for most everything
I have. I remind
myself as often as
necessary that life
is a blessing, but
only the foundation
for other blessings
which follow day
after day, year
after year.
I am thankful
most of the time
for most everything
I have. I remind
myself as often as
necessary that life
is a blessing, but
only the foundation
for other blessings
which follow day
after day, year
after year.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Hot and Cold
Hot and Cold #1 and #2
always take a jacket
into a restaurant
in summer. Just in
case. Too warm
is fine with me, but
when cold I can think
of little besides how
to get warm!
#2
She is an unmelting ice block,
without a shred of caring,
love, or compassion.
Her mouth is frozen, smileless,
her eyes hardened in icy stare.
Dressed in shimmery silver, she
is hard in her unbending stance.
She brings shudders to
all in her range and shivers
to those that feel her touch.
#1
I love heat, hate cold,always take a jacket
into a restaurant
in summer. Just in
case. Too warm
is fine with me, but
when cold I can think
of little besides how
to get warm!
#2
She is an unmelting ice block,
without a shred of caring,
love, or compassion.
Her mouth is frozen, smileless,
her eyes hardened in icy stare.
Dressed in shimmery silver, she
is hard in her unbending stance.
She brings shudders to
all in her range and shivers
to those that feel her touch.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Everybody Says
Everybody Says
Everybody says just wait and see,
don't worry until you have something
to worry about, everything is going
to be okay.
Everybody says they will say prayers.
I will pray too. But, damn, it is hard to
wait for the results, to know what
I must pray for.
Everybody says one day at a time,
and I try to think that way. I try to
be optimistic, but I cannot lose
the fear. Help me.
Everybody means well, that I know,
everybody wants it to be okay,
no cancer, nothing serious, that
I do know. Me too.
Nobody knows what another needs.
Oftentimes a person doesn't
know herself. Perhaps
to listen is enough.
Nobody knows my prayers to God.
Do you hear them, God?
I implore you, God, to make
everything right one more time?
Monday, November 23, 2009
Noise
Noise
I'd choose noise any day over silence.
Give me the noise of people talking
television blaring, radio squawking,
dogs barking, children playing,
baby crying, anything rather than
total stillness, which makes me feel
crazy inside, except sometimes
in the early morning hours when I sit
with my cup of coffee and attend to
my computer savoring my time of
reflection, contemplation before
the busy day begins.
I'd choose noise any day over silence.
Give me the noise of people talking
television blaring, radio squawking,
dogs barking, children playing,
baby crying, anything rather than
total stillness, which makes me feel
crazy inside, except sometimes
in the early morning hours when I sit
with my cup of coffee and attend to
my computer savoring my time of
reflection, contemplation before
the busy day begins.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Ambulance
Ambulance
Ambulance
red light circles
siren blares, signals
other vehicles to let
it pass. Who is being
transported to the
hospital? Will she
be okay? I say a
silent prayer as the
ambulance passes,
remember that one
time it was me inside.
Ambulance
red light circles
siren blares, signals
other vehicles to let
it pass. Who is being
transported to the
hospital? Will she
be okay? I say a
silent prayer as the
ambulance passes,
remember that one
time it was me inside.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Life After Sixty
Life after Sixty
One has to invent
a new way to live
one cannot depend on past
to sustain future
one has to begin anew
with fresh dreams,
possibilities abound
if one looks.
One has to invent
a new way to live
one cannot depend on past
to sustain future
one has to begin anew
with fresh dreams,
possibilities abound
if one looks.
Friday, November 20, 2009
And Then
And Then
And then suddenly
it was evening, amazing how
quickly the day passed.
I awoke with many things to do,
optimistic, felt all was possible.
I drank my coffee in the early
hours, savored morning, my
favorite time of day. Felt relaxed,
fresh, time was abundant,
unrushed. Everything in due
time, would be accomplished.
But then, in a blink of the eye,
it was evening. Where had the
day gone? I accomplished,
but not all I wanted to, but
tomorrow will be another day
Thursday, November 19, 2009
To Not Attach
To Not Attach
I don't want to attach anymore.
Everything is impermanent,
will eventually leave. Sometimes
now I wish I had fewer things,
would like to give things away
to someone of the next generation
would who enjoy, treasure, act
as caretaker. Stamp collection,
coins, electric train, doll house,
dolls, German steins, nut crackers,
silverware, dishes, postcards.
I remember when my aunt gave
away treasures one cup at a time.
I own some cups from her collection,
but where are they now? Valuable
to me once, now somewhere to
rediscover sometime when I pass
things to someone who might care.
What should I do with keepsakes?
Sad to contemplate, but realistic.
It is an honor to be caretaker, but
also a burden. I wonder if it is best
to walk through life unencumbered,
to collect nothing but memories and
photographs and to write poems
along the way. Beauty, love, health,
friendships, possessions do not last.
Life itself on earth is temporary. Even
I will eventually leave.
I don't want to attach anymore.
Everything is impermanent,
will eventually leave. Sometimes
now I wish I had fewer things,
would like to give things away
to someone of the next generation
would who enjoy, treasure, act
as caretaker. Stamp collection,
coins, electric train, doll house,
dolls, German steins, nut crackers,
silverware, dishes, postcards.
I remember when my aunt gave
away treasures one cup at a time.
I own some cups from her collection,
but where are they now? Valuable
to me once, now somewhere to
rediscover sometime when I pass
things to someone who might care.
What should I do with keepsakes?
Sad to contemplate, but realistic.
It is an honor to be caretaker, but
also a burden. I wonder if it is best
to walk through life unencumbered,
to collect nothing but memories and
photographs and to write poems
along the way. Beauty, love, health,
friendships, possessions do not last.
Life itself on earth is temporary. Even
I will eventually leave.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
SLOW
Slow
days pass slow
when I am worried
and want to know
the answer and pray
all will be okay.
don't like waiting
worrying, but I
have no choice.
I wonder if I worry
more than her.
Most likely.
days pass slow
when I am worried
and want to know
the answer and pray
all will be okay.
don't like waiting
worrying, but I
have no choice.
I wonder if I worry
more than her.
Most likely.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Does it Matter?
Does it Matter?
Does it really matter
if destruction or death
comes by implosion
or explosion? I don't
think so, do you?
Does it really matter
if destruction or death
comes by implosion
or explosion? I don't
think so, do you?
Monday, November 16, 2009
Above The Clouds
Above the Clouds
I cannot see above the clouds
today, but I know that above the
clouds it is always clear and one
can always see the sun. If only
I would be above the clouds today,
the sun seems so elusive.
I cannot see above the clouds
today, but I know that above the
clouds it is always clear and one
can always see the sun. If only
I would be above the clouds today,
the sun seems so elusive.
Above the Clouds
Above the Clouds
I cannot see above the clouds
today, but I know that above the
clouds it is always clear and one
can always see the sun. If only
I would be above the clouds today,
the sun seems so elusive.
I cannot see above the clouds
today, but I know that above the
clouds it is always clear and one
can always see the sun. If only
I would be above the clouds today,
the sun seems so elusive.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Hanging
#1
Hang on to me, and I will hang on to you.
Though the path may be steep and rugged,
together we will find our way. First, you
lead; then let me. We CAN find our way
together. And we WILL.
#2
Hanging onto dreams is better
than letting them fly away. At least
there is good to contemplate
when all is dark within and without.
With no dreams, the furies shriek,
flap their wings, disrupt the night
Bring on dreams and restful sleep.
Hang on to me, and I will hang on to you.
Though the path may be steep and rugged,
together we will find our way. First, you
lead; then let me. We CAN find our way
together. And we WILL.
#2
Hanging onto dreams is better
than letting them fly away. At least
there is good to contemplate
when all is dark within and without.
With no dreams, the furies shriek,
flap their wings, disrupt the night
Bring on dreams and restful sleep.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Not Yet
Not Yet
Lined face, hands, wrinkles,
lose hanging skin, muscles
that sag, force me to recognize
I am no longer young. Some
might, horrors, call me old,
on the downward slope
of life; it is hard to believe life has
passed this fast, brought me
to this point I do not want to be..
In my mind I am young, vibrant,
future ahead of me.When I walk the
treadmill at the Y, I am energized,
upbeat, feel I could walk hours and
then hours more. I hide my head
in the sand, I know it It is an
illusion, a game some of us
may play as long as we can. We
fight what will eventually win. Our
lined, wrinkled bodies will give in
and slow down, step off he treadmill,
kiss the illusion of youth good-bye.
But not today or tomorrow. Not yet.
Old age can wait.
Lined face, hands, wrinkles,
lose hanging skin, muscles
that sag, force me to recognize
I am no longer young. Some
might, horrors, call me old,
on the downward slope
of life; it is hard to believe life has
passed this fast, brought me
to this point I do not want to be..
In my mind I am young, vibrant,
future ahead of me.When I walk the
treadmill at the Y, I am energized,
upbeat, feel I could walk hours and
then hours more. I hide my head
in the sand, I know it It is an
illusion, a game some of us
may play as long as we can. We
fight what will eventually win. Our
lined, wrinkled bodies will give in
and slow down, step off he treadmill,
kiss the illusion of youth good-bye.
But not today or tomorrow. Not yet.
Old age can wait.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Finally
Finally
The human spirit is renewable.
Even when I am the most tired
and downhearted I realize that
tomorrow will be another chance,
a fresh slate, new page, uncharted
ground, one more opportunity for
me to finally get it right.
The human spirit is renewable.
Even when I am the most tired
and downhearted I realize that
tomorrow will be another chance,
a fresh slate, new page, uncharted
ground, one more opportunity for
me to finally get it right.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
If Only
If Only
I say to myself so often, If only,
but it doesn't happen, and I
try to resign myself to the
fact that it most likely never
will. I worry, pray for good
solutions, often wish I could
set the course. I don't
understand why everything
is always so hard. I wish
I could just have today be
enough, that I could just
hug the kids, love them,
laugh with them and let
tomorrow take care of itself.
If only I could have faith
that it would.
I say to myself so often, If only,
but it doesn't happen, and I
try to resign myself to the
fact that it most likely never
will. I worry, pray for good
solutions, often wish I could
set the course. I don't
understand why everything
is always so hard. I wish
I could just have today be
enough, that I could just
hug the kids, love them,
laugh with them and let
tomorrow take care of itself.
If only I could have faith
that it would.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Construction
Construction
I hope to build something
good in my life, something
positive with my being, and
to leave a lasting legacy
of caring among those
who knew me well. And
selfishly I want to be
remembered, not forgotten
or overlooked. I hope
someday that it will be
known and appreciated
just all that I brought about,
bought, and built. I wish
I did not care, was selfless,
but I recognize I am not
totally selfless at all
but I hope to build something
good in my life, will hope to
be remembered as good but
truly you can never trust memory.
I hope to build something
good in my life, something
positive with my being, and
to leave a lasting legacy
of caring among those
who knew me well. And
selfishly I want to be
remembered, not forgotten
or overlooked. I hope
someday that it will be
known and appreciated
just all that I brought about,
bought, and built. I wish
I did not care, was selfless,
but I recognize I am not
totally selfless at all
but I hope to build something
good in my life, will hope to
be remembered as good but
truly you can never trust memory.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Overworked Topic
Overworked Topic
Sometimes there is nothing
more to say about a subject
or nothing more one wants to say
anyway, like trying to write about
old news. It is hard to contemplate
what would give the subject a new
perspective, a slant that hadn't
been used before. The subject
tires me, and, damn it, I can't
imagine I am the only one who
feels this way about the
overworked topic of love.
Sometimes there is nothing
more to say about a subject
or nothing more one wants to say
anyway, like trying to write about
old news. It is hard to contemplate
what would give the subject a new
perspective, a slant that hadn't
been used before. The subject
tires me, and, damn it, I can't
imagine I am the only one who
feels this way about the
overworked topic of love.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Slippery
Slippery
Slippery roads are dangerous
especially at night with the
glare of the lights. But the
slippery slope is even more
dangerous than the slippery
road as once choose it,
by inventing tales and telling
lies and forcing smiles until
you choke fromyour own deceit
it is one thing after another
as life unravels beneath
your feet and sucks the
dignity you had hoped to
preserve and you scream
as you pray for a way out
of the inner darkness back
into the truth of light
Slippery roads are dangerous
especially at night with the
glare of the lights. But the
slippery slope is even more
dangerous than the slippery
road as once choose it,
by inventing tales and telling
lies and forcing smiles until
you choke fromyour own deceit
it is one thing after another
as life unravels beneath
your feet and sucks the
dignity you had hoped to
preserve and you scream
as you pray for a way out
of the inner darkness back
into the truth of light
Sunday, November 8, 2009
The Shoulds
The Shoulds
Should I rake leaves or
take my dog for a walk?
Should I organize the kitchen
or write a poem?
Should I grocery shop
or read a book?
The choice between what I
should do and what I want
to do is often difficult.
And whatever choice I make
feels half good and half bad.
I wish there were more
hours in the day, especially
to take my dog for a walk.
Should I rake leaves or
take my dog for a walk?
Should I organize the kitchen
or write a poem?
Should I grocery shop
or read a book?
The choice between what I
should do and what I want
to do is often difficult.
And whatever choice I make
feels half good and half bad.
I wish there were more
hours in the day, especially
to take my dog for a walk.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Reflections on Plant Life
Reflections on Plant Life
I always said that if I were in the hospital
I might prefer a book to read over a bouquet
of flowers as the flowers would fade away
and die, something I would prefer not to.
but then again sometime it is nice to
be surrounded by the beauty of flowers
even if it is only temporary beauty
to enjoy for a few moments, days.
Life itself is fleeting like the beauty
of flowers, with its savored moments
of joy and loveliness, essence
that can inhaled but never captured.
I always said that if I were in the hospital
I might prefer a book to read over a bouquet
of flowers as the flowers would fade away
and die, something I would prefer not to.
but then again sometime it is nice to
be surrounded by the beauty of flowers
even if it is only temporary beauty
to enjoy for a few moments, days.
Life itself is fleeting like the beauty
of flowers, with its savored moments
of joy and loveliness, essence
that can inhaled but never captured.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Unable to Cover
Unable to Cover
Sometimes i wish i could cover my emotions
and not wear my heart on my sleeve but
I am not good with this at all. What I feel
people can see, and if I am angry or hurt
sometimes it is better for me to leave than
to sit there and cry or say things I will
regret. I know a lot of people are able
to cover their emotions, to smile no matter
what, but I an not one of them.
Sometimes i wish i could cover my emotions
and not wear my heart on my sleeve but
I am not good with this at all. What I feel
people can see, and if I am angry or hurt
sometimes it is better for me to leave than
to sit there and cry or say things I will
regret. I know a lot of people are able
to cover their emotions, to smile no matter
what, but I an not one of them.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Growing
Growing
Most every young girl wants to grow up
to be older than she is today, imagines how
wonderful it would be to have a job, be
independent, be free of parental rules.
At a certain point in life this changes
and each person realizes that with
the passing of each year one grows
older and eventually grows old and
whatever platitudes one expresses
and however wonderful one tries to
present aging there truly are very
few redeeming qualities in growing
Most every young girl wants to grow up
to be older than she is today, imagines how
wonderful it would be to have a job, be
independent, be free of parental rules.
At a certain point in life this changes
and each person realizes that with
the passing of each year one grows
older and eventually grows old and
whatever platitudes one expresses
and however wonderful one tries to
present aging there truly are very
few redeeming qualities in growing
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Maybe
Maybe
Maybe eventually I will get over it. Maybe not.
Sometimes I wish I were more thick skinned
or able to just turn the other cheek, say slap me
one more time. I can take it. Then slap me again
with everyone as witness. Feel victorious, you
who sought to wound me, your words were daggers,
well planned blows. It is what you desired. I
am not a fighter, never have been, will just walk
away, unmissed as you babble on to your
appreciative audience. Who will be next?
Maybe eventually I will get over it. Maybe not.
Sometimes I wish I were more thick skinned
or able to just turn the other cheek, say slap me
one more time. I can take it. Then slap me again
with everyone as witness. Feel victorious, you
who sought to wound me, your words were daggers,
well planned blows. It is what you desired. I
am not a fighter, never have been, will just walk
away, unmissed as you babble on to your
appreciative audience. Who will be next?
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Negative / Positive
Negative
Negative is easier than positive
these days it seems I have
no time for positive, with its
words appear contrived,
just chugging along, put
one foot ahead of another,
try not to think at all.
Positive
Oh what a beautiful day
to be alive. I am so excited
to face the day, do not know
what the day will bring but
know it will be unique as
all days are but please
forgive me for not enjoying
it fully as I am exhausted,
look forward to early rest
and hope I can sleep.
Negative is easier than positive
these days it seems I have
no time for positive, with its
words appear contrived,
just chugging along, put
one foot ahead of another,
try not to think at all.
Positive
Oh what a beautiful day
to be alive. I am so excited
to face the day, do not know
what the day will bring but
know it will be unique as
all days are but please
forgive me for not enjoying
it fully as I am exhausted,
look forward to early rest
and hope I can sleep.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Please
 |
| Wikimedia Commons |
Please
I know you don't want me,
that you regret my existance,
are embarrassed by me,
wish I didn't live but I do live
and you made it happen.
And you can't undo your action.
Don't you know I have your genes,
no small thing as I am part of you,
but if you are sure you don't want me
someone else has been praying
to have someone like me. Someone
will love me, and I will love them.
I haven't lived yet, want to see
what life is all about, to breathe
and see and hear and think;
maybe I can make a difference
One person can, you know.
Let me live, I implore you.
Please.
This is shared with dVerse Open Link.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
A New Year
(prompt - entering something new)
A New Year
I enter a new year of life
hard to believe I am this old;
I can remember turning ten.
The decades have made me
grandmother, uncharted ground,
someone considered old;
but I still feel young, wear
my blue jeans, flashy Nikes,
forget my age unless
I look in the mirror. Wrinkles
shock me sometime. Who
is that with greying hair?
I argue with the calendar
still feel like a teen, almost
immortal, that I have decades
yet to enjoy rich days.
At least I can hope
calendar age is superficial.
I enter a new year optimistic
that this one will be even
better than the last.
A New Year
I enter a new year of life
hard to believe I am this old;
I can remember turning ten.
The decades have made me
grandmother, uncharted ground,
someone considered old;
but I still feel young, wear
my blue jeans, flashy Nikes,
forget my age unless
I look in the mirror. Wrinkles
shock me sometime. Who
is that with greying hair?
I argue with the calendar
still feel like a teen, almost
immortal, that I have decades
yet to enjoy rich days.
At least I can hope
calendar age is superficial.
I enter a new year optimistic
that this one will be even
better than the last.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Death of a Young Soldier
Death of a Young Soldier
Bradley Espinoza, with your death I came to
know you, think about you and your family today.
You served in Iraq with my son-in-law. It was
your third tour of duty there, his too. Iraqi Freedom.
You shared the same unit, same rotation.
Twenty-six- years old, with wife and two children,
army for seven years, right out of high school.
So young. Too young to die. Your wife is army too.
Who will care for the children? You were returning
home next month. You and everyone else in your
unit. Families were making plans. Counting days.
You had a dangerous job, bomb disposal specialist,
and you did it well until last weekend when enemy
forces attacked your vehicle with a bomb. You
did not survive. Today your mother is in Delaware
bringing your body home. You will be home before
the rest of your unit. I don't know you, but am sad.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
When They Found Her
When They Found Her - #1
When they found her she was counting flower petals
one, two, three, fifteen, thirty, sixty-two, more
and she would not be disturbed. People spoke to
her, shook her, tried to entice her to look at them,
but she would not stop counting long enough to
look. She was wearing a sundress, her hair ong and
flowing, and both sundress and hair blew in the wind.
When They Found Her - #2
When they found her late at night, she was alone on the
wooden park bench, blank expression on her face. She
sat motionless, grasped the handle of her well-worn
suitcase that shared the bench. And when authorities
discovered her, asked her to open her bag, she didn't resist.
She had nothing to hide, little to display.The contents are
as mundane as her life. One pair of jeans, two blouses,
two sweaters, underwear, an extra pair of shoes, colorful
socks, warm jacket, a teapot and different bags of exotic
teas, folder full of poetry written by hand, two pens, an
address book, a book of stamps, a flashlight, and a
beautiful china cup carefully wrapped in a red silk cloth
so it would not break, undoubtedly for her tea.
When they found her she was counting flower petals
one, two, three, fifteen, thirty, sixty-two, more
and she would not be disturbed. People spoke to
her, shook her, tried to entice her to look at them,
but she would not stop counting long enough to
look. She was wearing a sundress, her hair ong and
flowing, and both sundress and hair blew in the wind.
When They Found Her - #2
When they found her late at night, she was alone on the
wooden park bench, blank expression on her face. She
sat motionless, grasped the handle of her well-worn
suitcase that shared the bench. And when authorities
discovered her, asked her to open her bag, she didn't resist.
She had nothing to hide, little to display.The contents are
as mundane as her life. One pair of jeans, two blouses,
two sweaters, underwear, an extra pair of shoes, colorful
socks, warm jacket, a teapot and different bags of exotic
teas, folder full of poetry written by hand, two pens, an
address book, a book of stamps, a flashlight, and a
beautiful china cup carefully wrapped in a red silk cloth
so it would not break, undoubtedly for her tea.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Little Gecko
Little Gecko
Little Gecko, why did you choose
to make our bathroom your home?
Small, innocent, so trusting, my
bare feet could easily squish you
if I walked in the dark and didn't see
you on the floor. You are barely visible
in your chosen spot, blending in with
your surroundings. I truly would be
heartsick if I caused you injury or,
worse, death.
One time you surprised me, ventured into
the hallway outside your usual domain.
Don't you know this is dangerous?
I was glad that I looked down, saw you.
I think while I am here I will be compelled
to look out for you constantly, as I know
you will not watch out for me. I want
you to have a long life, grow big, easier
to see, my dear little friend.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Rain
Rain - 1
Childhood days of gentle summer rain
walks outside barefoot, grass spongey,
puddle splashes, jumps over sidewalk
worms, no umbrella needed, the rain is
warm, let's chase each other, arms
outstretched toward the rainbow.
Rain - 2
Pounding rain, relentless torrent,
wind whips, raindrops are weapons,
sharp, driving, horizontal arrows,
cannot see outside, all is dark,
lights are out now, sirens blare,
head downstairs with flashlight
and radio to wait it out, hope
and pray it will be as it has been
in the past, nothing, not something.
Please let the rain end.
Childhood days of gentle summer rain
walks outside barefoot, grass spongey,
puddle splashes, jumps over sidewalk
worms, no umbrella needed, the rain is
warm, let's chase each other, arms
outstretched toward the rainbow.
Rain - 2
Pounding rain, relentless torrent,
wind whips, raindrops are weapons,
sharp, driving, horizontal arrows,
cannot see outside, all is dark,
lights are out now, sirens blare,
head downstairs with flashlight
and radio to wait it out, hope
and pray it will be as it has been
in the past, nothing, not something.
Please let the rain end.
Cold
Cold
Cold sneers
cuts through to the bone
heavy jacket doesn't help
skin burns taut
Cold laughs
pierces through layers
dismisses scarfs, caps,
and mittens. They are nothing
Cold kills
breaks down resistance
takes away feeling, without
notice, silent, still forever.
Cold sneers
cuts through to the bone
heavy jacket doesn't help
skin burns taut
Cold laughs
pierces through layers
dismisses scarfs, caps,
and mittens. They are nothing
Cold kills
breaks down resistance
takes away feeling, without
notice, silent, still forever.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Nothing to Declare
Nothing to Declare
I bought nothing during the Danube
River cruise or visits to other cities
in Germany. There were few opportunities to
shop, and when they appeared, I had no
strong desire for the items available
or I knew I could find the same thing at home
or they were made in China or sold
just for tourists or I thought I would find
something I liked better later. In Eastern
Europe it was too complex to deal with
the money or if I figured out the price it
was too expensive when I didn't love the
item that momentarily attracted me.
I wanted one souvenir, yearned to have
something special to take
home. I never found that thing, so I came
home from three weeks in Europe with
wonderful pictures and special memories,
but not one thing to declare.
I bought nothing during the Danube
River cruise or visits to other cities
in Germany. There were few opportunities to
shop, and when they appeared, I had no
strong desire for the items available
or I knew I could find the same thing at home
or they were made in China or sold
just for tourists or I thought I would find
something I liked better later. In Eastern
Europe it was too complex to deal with
the money or if I figured out the price it
was too expensive when I didn't love the
item that momentarily attracted me.
I wanted one souvenir, yearned to have
something special to take
home. I never found that thing, so I came
home from three weeks in Europe with
wonderful pictures and special memories,
but not one thing to declare.
Dirty Dishes
Dirty Dishes
One side of the sink is filled with dirty
dishes which accumulate day after day.
Each morning I arrive, hope the dishes
will have been washed and put away
but it doesn't happen. In the following
days the other side of the sink begins to
fill up with dirty dishes. I ask her why
she does not use her dishwasher, and
she said it doesn't get her dishes clean.
Each day after the children finish breakfast
I see to it that the dishes used are carried
to the sink, increasing the pile of dishes.
Every day before we leave for school I try
to have him help me pick a few things up
from the floor so they can come home to a
more orderly home. I tell him he should
be a good example for his sister, and he
listens. Today when I arrived I
noticed the dishes were washed, drying
on a rack, and that was a good thing.
One step at a time. One day at a time.
Baby steps forward. Then back again.
More dirty dishes will fill the sink.
I wish it weren't so.
One side of the sink is filled with dirty
dishes which accumulate day after day.
Each morning I arrive, hope the dishes
will have been washed and put away
but it doesn't happen. In the following
days the other side of the sink begins to
fill up with dirty dishes. I ask her why
she does not use her dishwasher, and
she said it doesn't get her dishes clean.
Each day after the children finish breakfast
I see to it that the dishes used are carried
to the sink, increasing the pile of dishes.
Every day before we leave for school I try
to have him help me pick a few things up
from the floor so they can come home to a
more orderly home. I tell him he should
be a good example for his sister, and he
listens. Today when I arrived I
noticed the dishes were washed, drying
on a rack, and that was a good thing.
One step at a time. One day at a time.
Baby steps forward. Then back again.
More dirty dishes will fill the sink.
I wish it weren't so.
Most Don't Care
Most Don't Care
Most don't care or
wait for others to speak
or to do something.
Most are afraid to stand up
in a crowd of people,
instead keep distant,
wish difficulties away,
talk about the weather,
or the price of gasoline.
Some wring hands, oh
dear, easier not to face
conflict, make a decision.
Let someone else speak,
determine right, someone
will. One brave soul or four,
but until then, even
perhaps after, they don't
let others know their thoughts
prefer to appear neutral rather than
to expose their position. Most
fade into the background,
if not seen no one will know,
will not expect. They will walk
the fence to see which way
the wind blows, go in that
direction, follow the crowd
in silence, smile, and wave.
Most don't care or
wait for others to speak
or to do something.
Most are afraid to stand up
in a crowd of people,
instead keep distant,
wish difficulties away,
talk about the weather,
or the price of gasoline.
Some wring hands, oh
dear, easier not to face
conflict, make a decision.
Let someone else speak,
determine right, someone
will. One brave soul or four,
but until then, even
perhaps after, they don't
let others know their thoughts
prefer to appear neutral rather than
to expose their position. Most
fade into the background,
if not seen no one will know,
will not expect. They will walk
the fence to see which way
the wind blows, go in that
direction, follow the crowd
in silence, smile, and wave.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Fear of Cats
Fear of Cats
My mother was terrified of cats.
When she visited an older woman
in our neighborhood at night, and
it was time for her to walk home
she would telephone me and I
walk across the street to
walked home with her to protect
her in case she encountered a cat.
I really wish now I knew why she
was deathly afraid of cats, why
she screamed when she saw
one. I don't know what she thought
they would do. Her fear was intense.
there were two cats I knew who
terrified me as well. One lived with
a family I babysat for. The cat,
a big one with penetrating eyes,
would sit across the room and
stare at me. Its eyes would follow
me wherever I went. It seemed
threatening to me, and I wished it
would just leave me alone. I could
hardly wait until the woman and
man got home. Then one time
when I lived with a crazy roommate
and was afraid one night I went
to sleep at the apartment of a friend
because I wanted to be safe.
She had a cat. I slept on the couch,
and all night this catannoyed me.
It sat on top ofthe couch, waved its
tail in my face. I had dreams of
suffication. If I turned on my side,
it would put its head in my
face, breathe on me. One time
it pounced right onto my stomach.
I could not sleep, and I wished I had
stayed in my apartment with the
crazy roommate there, as it
couldn't have been any worse
than enduring a night with this
cat. On top of it all, it made
me sneeze. At this point in
my life I am not afraid of cats.
I can look at them and even
find some of them beautiful,
but they still make me sneeze.
My mother was terrified of cats.
When she visited an older woman
in our neighborhood at night, and
it was time for her to walk home
she would telephone me and I
walk across the street to
walked home with her to protect
her in case she encountered a cat.
I really wish now I knew why she
was deathly afraid of cats, why
she screamed when she saw
one. I don't know what she thought
they would do. Her fear was intense.
there were two cats I knew who
terrified me as well. One lived with
a family I babysat for. The cat,
a big one with penetrating eyes,
would sit across the room and
stare at me. Its eyes would follow
me wherever I went. It seemed
threatening to me, and I wished it
would just leave me alone. I could
hardly wait until the woman and
man got home. Then one time
when I lived with a crazy roommate
and was afraid one night I went
to sleep at the apartment of a friend
because I wanted to be safe.
She had a cat. I slept on the couch,
and all night this catannoyed me.
It sat on top ofthe couch, waved its
tail in my face. I had dreams of
suffication. If I turned on my side,
it would put its head in my
face, breathe on me. One time
it pounced right onto my stomach.
I could not sleep, and I wished I had
stayed in my apartment with the
crazy roommate there, as it
couldn't have been any worse
than enduring a night with this
cat. On top of it all, it made
me sneeze. At this point in
my life I am not afraid of cats.
I can look at them and even
find some of them beautiful,
but they still make me sneeze.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Things to Throw Back
Things to Throw Back
Angry words, failures real or imagined,
broken promises, broken dreams,
worries, self condemnation, bitterness,
sadness about what might have been,
disillusionments, sadness, fear
of tomorrow and the next day
and the day after that, negatives,
doubts, anguish, blame, all
of these things I throw back.
Angry words, failures real or imagined,
broken promises, broken dreams,
worries, self condemnation, bitterness,
sadness about what might have been,
disillusionments, sadness, fear
of tomorrow and the next day
and the day after that, negatives,
doubts, anguish, blame, all
of these things I throw back.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Decorating the Tree
Decorating the Tree
My mother was in charge of most
of decorating the Christmas tree,
except my dad was in charge of
Christmas lights, both putting
on and taking off. It was a
thankless chore for him, as my
mother supervised, and though
he accomplished it she complained
about how it was done, lights too close,
blank spaces. I was glad I only had to
hang ornaments, didn't do tinsel either,
nor put the star on top which
sometimes tipped this way or that.
Harsh words were exchanged on
Christmas tree days, but by the time it
was up and beautifully decorated these
words were forgotten and we all enjoyed
the tree, especially at night when we sat
with all other living room lights out,
just enjoying the lights on the tree and
the shadows that danced on living room
wall when cars went by on the street.
And we would sing Christmas carols
in the December dark.
My mother was in charge of most
of decorating the Christmas tree,
except my dad was in charge of
Christmas lights, both putting
on and taking off. It was a
thankless chore for him, as my
mother supervised, and though
he accomplished it she complained
about how it was done, lights too close,
blank spaces. I was glad I only had to
hang ornaments, didn't do tinsel either,
nor put the star on top which
sometimes tipped this way or that.
Harsh words were exchanged on
Christmas tree days, but by the time it
was up and beautifully decorated these
words were forgotten and we all enjoyed
the tree, especially at night when we sat
with all other living room lights out,
just enjoying the lights on the tree and
the shadows that danced on living room
wall when cars went by on the street.
And we would sing Christmas carols
in the December dark.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Masks
Masks
I never liked masks, deceptions. I never
really got into Halloween or costume parties.
Even today I know I would not enjoy pretending
to be someone else or using a mask to hide
my true self. Masks have never been fun for me.
I never liked masks, deceptions. I never
really got into Halloween or costume parties.
Even today I know I would not enjoy pretending
to be someone else or using a mask to hide
my true self. Masks have never been fun for me.
The Pleasure of Coming Home
The Pleasure of Coming Home
I love coming home, even if I have been gone only
an hour. I love coming home, Diane greeting me,
the dogs greeting me as if I am someone special.
I love my house, my living room, my family room,
my bed, everything familiar, comforting, warm.
It is nice to go away for a while, but going away
pales beside the pleasure of coming home.
I love coming home, even if I have been gone only
an hour. I love coming home, Diane greeting me,
the dogs greeting me as if I am someone special.
I love my house, my living room, my family room,
my bed, everything familiar, comforting, warm.
It is nice to go away for a while, but going away
pales beside the pleasure of coming home.
The Pleasure of Nothing Useful
The Pleasure of Doing Nothing Useful
I am so used to trying to do something useful
every moment of the day. So many things to
do, so many shoulds. I seldom find time to do
something truly unuseful, so many useful things
to do, except if it is playingLexulous, a pleasure
not useful at all, accomplishing nothing, a selfish
escape which feels so good!
I am so used to trying to do something useful
every moment of the day. So many things to
do, so many shoulds. I seldom find time to do
something truly unuseful, so many useful things
to do, except if it is playingLexulous, a pleasure
not useful at all, accomplishing nothing, a selfish
escape which feels so good!
The Pleasure of Not Beiing Perfect
The Pleasure of Not Being Perfect
I must learn to forgive myself for not being perfect
and I also hope that those that know me will
forgive me for not being perfect. I have high
standards for myself and often beat myself up
for not meeting them. Typical Virgo. Not enough
hours in the day to do all I wish to do. And I
often fail to do what I wish I could do. I must
learn to take pleasure in not being perfect.
I really hope I can.
I must learn to forgive myself for not being perfect
and I also hope that those that know me will
forgive me for not being perfect. I have high
standards for myself and often beat myself up
for not meeting them. Typical Virgo. Not enough
hours in the day to do all I wish to do. And I
often fail to do what I wish I could do. I must
learn to take pleasure in not being perfect.
I really hope I can.
The Pleasure of Being Foolish
The Pleasure of Being Foolish
Foolish to believe someone will change
it might happen sometime, just mightt,
but basically one has to understand
and find a way to live with the reality
that people do not change. Amen.
Foolish to believe someone will change
it might happen sometime, just mightt,
but basically one has to understand
and find a way to live with the reality
that people do not change. Amen.
What I do Not Always Throw Back
What I Do Not Always Throw Back
Sometimes I don't throw back
what she needs to be responsible
for, and sometimes I cut her too
much slack, but sometimes I do
this for the kids' sake even though
they do not know, and I wonder
sometimes if they will ever know
that it was me who made the
difference.
Sometimes I don't throw back
what she needs to be responsible
for, and sometimes I cut her too
much slack, but sometimes I do
this for the kids' sake even though
they do not know, and I wonder
sometimes if they will ever know
that it was me who made the
difference.
Things to Throw Back
Things to Throw Back
Angry words, failures real or imagined,
broken promises, broken dreams,
worries, fears of tomorrow, self
condemnation, bitterness, sadness
about what might have been,
disallusionments, sadness, fear
of tomorrow and the next day
and the day after that, negatives,
doubts, anguish, blame, all
of these things I throw back.
Angry words, failures real or imagined,
broken promises, broken dreams,
worries, fears of tomorrow, self
condemnation, bitterness, sadness
about what might have been,
disallusionments, sadness, fear
of tomorrow and the next day
and the day after that, negatives,
doubts, anguish, blame, all
of these things I throw back.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Fear of Cats
Fear of Cats
My mother was terrified of cats.
When she visited an older woman
in our neighborhood at night, when
it was time for her to walk home
she would telephone me and I
would walk across the street to
walk home with her to protect
her in case she encountered a cat.
I really wish now I knew why she
was deathly afraid of cats, why
she would scream when she saw
one. I don't know what she thought
they would do. Her fear was intense.
there were two cats I knew who
terrified me as well. One lived with
a family I babysat for. The cat,
a big one with penetrating eyes,
would sit across the room and
stare at me. Its eyes would follow
me wherever I went. It seemed
threatening to me, and I wished it
would just leave me alone. I could
hardly wait until the woman and
man got home. Then one time
when I lived with a crazy roommate
and was afraid one night I went
to sleep at the apartment of a friend
because I wanted to be safe.
She had a cat. I slept on the couch,
and all night this catannoyed me.
It sat on top ofthe couch, waved its
tail in my face. I had dreams of
suffication. If I turned on my side,
it would put its head in my
face, breathe on me. One time
it pounced right onto my stomach.
I could not sleep, and I wished I had
stayed in my apartment with the
crazy roommate there, as it
couldn't have been any worse
than enduring a night with this
cat. On top of it all, it made
me sneeze. At this point in
my life I am not afraid of cats.
I can look at them and even
find some of them beautiful,
but they still make me sneeze.
My mother was terrified of cats.
When she visited an older woman
in our neighborhood at night, when
it was time for her to walk home
she would telephone me and I
would walk across the street to
walk home with her to protect
her in case she encountered a cat.
I really wish now I knew why she
was deathly afraid of cats, why
she would scream when she saw
one. I don't know what she thought
they would do. Her fear was intense.
there were two cats I knew who
terrified me as well. One lived with
a family I babysat for. The cat,
a big one with penetrating eyes,
would sit across the room and
stare at me. Its eyes would follow
me wherever I went. It seemed
threatening to me, and I wished it
would just leave me alone. I could
hardly wait until the woman and
man got home. Then one time
when I lived with a crazy roommate
and was afraid one night I went
to sleep at the apartment of a friend
because I wanted to be safe.
She had a cat. I slept on the couch,
and all night this catannoyed me.
It sat on top ofthe couch, waved its
tail in my face. I had dreams of
suffication. If I turned on my side,
it would put its head in my
face, breathe on me. One time
it pounced right onto my stomach.
I could not sleep, and I wished I had
stayed in my apartment with the
crazy roommate there, as it
couldn't have been any worse
than enduring a night with this
cat. On top of it all, it made
me sneeze. At this point in
my life I am not afraid of cats.
I can look at them and even
find some of them beautiful,
but they still make me sneeze.
Raw End of the Deal
Raw End of the Deal
In his last week of swim lessons
he got a teacher that didn't like
to get in the water. She preferred
to stand on the side of the pool
with a towel around her swim suit
and to direct children from her
high perch. On Wednesday I
strongly hinted to her that he
learns by being shown, not by
being told. He didn't even listen
to her as she stood above telling
how to do the butterfly, and he
wasn't alone. Such a contrast
to his former teacher who was
always right in the water with
the kids, moving their arms, their
legs, encouraging them every
foot of the way, giving high
fives in the water for a job
well done. I thought about
complaining, but I kept my
thoughts to myself. After all,
it was the last week of summer
lessons. I didn't expect him
to pass fish this time anyway
as he was the youngest in
the class, and it is a hard
level,and kids generally have
to take it more than once, but
it bothered me nonetheless
that for the last swim session
of the summer he got someone
who didn't wish to get wet,
someone whose face remained
expressionless, who knew
technicalities but had no warmth.
No one passed in this fish class,
not one child. When that happens,
I question why. I think all these
kids got the raw end of the deal,
but there is always another year.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Purple Rain
Purple Rain
Purple rain would be fun to see
something unusual, out of ordinary,
something to smile about, tell
tales about, an experience to
pass to the next generation, or
something to bring on televiion
crews or to share on You-Tube,but who
would really believe purple rain?
Purple rain would be fun to see
something unusual, out of ordinary,
something to smile about, tell
tales about, an experience to
pass to the next generation, or
something to bring on televiion
crews or to share on You-Tube,but who
would really believe purple rain?
Halves
Halves
Half of something is okay, half a sandwich
can be enough some days, a half dollar
can be used for parking, half full is good
when you are checking your gasoline gage,
half pound of meat is more than enough,
half finished with a book is a good start,
half of somehing can be good or bad
depending on point of view.
Half of something is okay, half a sandwich
can be enough some days, a half dollar
can be used for parking, half full is good
when you are checking your gasoline gage,
half pound of meat is more than enough,
half finished with a book is a good start,
half of somehing can be good or bad
depending on point of view.
Painted Toenails
Painted Toenails
Diane introduced me to painted toenails
before then I never imagined them for myself
thought it was a luxury few could afford
certainly not me but now I enjoy painted
toenails particularly in summer when
I can have violet toenails which I can look
at and which always remind me of my dog.
Diane introduced me to painted toenails
before then I never imagined them for myself
thought it was a luxury few could afford
certainly not me but now I enjoy painted
toenails particularly in summer when
I can have violet toenails which I can look
at and which always remind me of my dog.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
There was No Telling
There Was No Telling
There was no telling me anything.
I knew how to raise kids. If I loved,
had patience, smiled, was fair,
gave of myself in every possible way
how could they not turn out just fine,
appreciate, love in return, no problems
ever, everything a breeze. Ya, right!
There was no telling me anything.
I knew how to raise kids. If I loved,
had patience, smiled, was fair,
gave of myself in every possible way
how could they not turn out just fine,
appreciate, love in return, no problems
ever, everything a breeze. Ya, right!
A New Age Dawning
There is always a new age dawning
no matter which moment, hour,
day, or year. What will happen
next will always be new, unexpected.
No one really knows what will occur
next even if one thinks one does.
Life often throws curveballs. Surprise
is inevitable, sometimes for better,
sometimes for worse. Expect
the unexpected as a new age dawns.
no matter which moment, hour,
day, or year. What will happen
next will always be new, unexpected.
No one really knows what will occur
next even if one thinks one does.
Life often throws curveballs. Surprise
is inevitable, sometimes for better,
sometimes for worse. Expect
the unexpected as a new age dawns.
I Had Forgotten....
I Had Forgotten
1.
I had forgotten so many details
until I looked at the photos taken
and then the memories returned.
2.
I had forgotten, or tried to forget,
what he was really like, but it did
not take much to make me remember.
3.
I had forgotten how wonderful a summer day can be
until today when it was pure bliss to take a long walk
in the morning and to spend the afternoon in our pool.
4.
I had forgotten the excitement of finding coins
left in vending machines until Isaac experienced
a streak of luck at finding them. Friday he found
three quarters, an unusually good day, and I was
delighted when he asked if we could go to Goodwill
so he could use his well-earned quarters in
vending machines there to buy new toys, a bouncey
ball an a little ring for his finger. No greater joy
for a five-year-old than to spend earned money.
5.
I had forgotten how fast Tulip could walk until we took her
on a walk this morning and she set the pace, a marathon
pace. She walked two-and-a-half miles at a fast pace,
faster than we would have walked without her. Then Diane
came and picked her up, as I feared she would tire out
before we did, but next time I will have her walk another
mile. I know she could have done this really. She is such
a wonderful walker.
6.
I had forgotten how much I liked roasted vegetables until
I bought beets at the farmers' market and we had to do
something with them, so I cut up beets, carrots, potatoes,
and green peppers, and we roasted them along with
chicken and had a wonderfully tasty dinner tonight.
1.
I had forgotten so many details
until I looked at the photos taken
and then the memories returned.
2.
I had forgotten, or tried to forget,
what he was really like, but it did
not take much to make me remember.
3.
I had forgotten how wonderful a summer day can be
until today when it was pure bliss to take a long walk
in the morning and to spend the afternoon in our pool.
4.
I had forgotten the excitement of finding coins
left in vending machines until Isaac experienced
a streak of luck at finding them. Friday he found
three quarters, an unusually good day, and I was
delighted when he asked if we could go to Goodwill
so he could use his well-earned quarters in
vending machines there to buy new toys, a bouncey
ball an a little ring for his finger. No greater joy
for a five-year-old than to spend earned money.
5.
I had forgotten how fast Tulip could walk until we took her
on a walk this morning and she set the pace, a marathon
pace. She walked two-and-a-half miles at a fast pace,
faster than we would have walked without her. Then Diane
came and picked her up, as I feared she would tire out
before we did, but next time I will have her walk another
mile. I know she could have done this really. She is such
a wonderful walker.
6.
I had forgotten how much I liked roasted vegetables until
I bought beets at the farmers' market and we had to do
something with them, so I cut up beets, carrots, potatoes,
and green peppers, and we roasted them along with
chicken and had a wonderfully tasty dinner tonight.
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