When Adulthood Fails
When adulthood fails you, you can still summon
the memories of childhood to refresh your weary mind
and sooth your sorrowful soul
mother's mixture of M&M's and peanuts, a treat for
those weekend nights of watching wolfman or frankenstein
on the couch with a blanket to shelter from fear
roller skating in the basement on winter nights
or on the sidewalks during summer days
metal skates strapped to shoes, sized with a key
playing starlight moonlight or statue maker
in the yard with neighbor kids during warm evenings
peaceful days stretching endlessly ahead
biking across city to the swimming pool
jacks on the porch or hopscotch on the walk
playing softball in the street watching for cars
you can forget for a minute that Covid 19 is raging
that the stay at home order that helped keep people safe
has been lifted and the fears for the future that brings
when adulthood fails you, you can still summon
the memories of childhood to refresh your weary mind
and soothe your sorrowful soul.
Wild Writing
Day 23
Saturday, May 16, 2020
Friday, May 15, 2020
Peeling Potatoes is a Form of Prayer
Peeling Potatoes is a Form of Prayer
(thoughts while peeling potatoes)
Let's get away from platitudes
there are evil people
call it for what it is
evil is evil
racism is racism
packing plant workers are hispanic
their lives don't matter
they are expendable
meat packing is an essential business
so the plants cannot close
if people get sick so what
if people die so what
there must be meat
open up the state
go sit in the bar
with your maga hat
forget social distance or masks
they are for sissies
have another beer
if people get sick so what
there must be beer.
Day 22
Wild Writing
(thoughts while peeling potatoes)
Let's get away from platitudes
there are evil people
call it for what it is
evil is evil
racism is racism
packing plant workers are hispanic
their lives don't matter
they are expendable
meat packing is an essential business
so the plants cannot close
if people get sick so what
if people die so what
there must be meat
open up the state
go sit in the bar
with your maga hat
forget social distance or masks
they are for sissies
have another beer
if people get sick so what
there must be beer.
Day 22
Wild Writing
Thursday, May 14, 2020
I Remember
I REMEMBER
I remember when my parents got their first washing machine, and my parents and aunt and uncle sat in front of it and marvelled as it went through its wash cycle. I remember when my dad asked me if I didn't think I was a little bit too old to be hugging him goodnight. I remember when my mother wanted to talk at a church council meeting and was told that only men could speak. I remember when an aunt ran her fingers through my hair and asked me if THAT was the way people were wearing their hair these days.
I remember when my mother went ice skating with me on New Year's Eve. I remember when my dad pitched baseballs to me in the back yard. I remember when I went horseback riding with my dad on the streets of Lake Geneva, and his horse stopped and wouldn't move and he said later he would never go horseback riding again. I remember playing kick the can with the neighborhood kids on our front sidewalk. I remember window shopping downtown with my parents on Sunday afternoons when the stores were not open on Sundays.
I remember riding my two-wheeler across a large bridge on the way to the school I went to then, with my dad driving behind just in case. I remember the smell of freshly made rhubarb torte or chocolate chip cookies greeting me when I got home from school. I remember sitting up late on a Saturday night watching an old and scary black and white horror movie such as 'Wolfman' and having a blanket on my lap to cover my face. I remember my first dog Corky who once got caught behind the refrigerator and a minister had to move the refrigerator to rescue him. I remember the last time Corky ran away and hearing later he had been killed by another dog.
I remember getting sick and wanting to skip school on the days I had to give speeches for speech class. I remember my mother and I going to the library together in summer and each of us coming home with several books. I remember lying in the grass in our backyard reading. I remember playing softball in the street and jacks on the front porch and hospital with a variety of dolls. I remember going to the woods with other kids to play Robin Hood. I remember when the Catholic kids told me they wouldn't play with me because I wasn't Catholic and how my mother took matters into her own hands and telephoned the priest.
I remember our first black and white television and how neighborhood kids used to stand outside our house watching it through the window. I remember sitting on the front porch with my parents after dark in summer before there was air conditioning. I remember watching the 4th of July fireworks sitting on chairs in our backyard. I remember building snowmen and snow forts and not minding shoveling snow. I remember.
Wild Writing
Day 21
I remember when my parents got their first washing machine, and my parents and aunt and uncle sat in front of it and marvelled as it went through its wash cycle. I remember when my dad asked me if I didn't think I was a little bit too old to be hugging him goodnight. I remember when my mother wanted to talk at a church council meeting and was told that only men could speak. I remember when an aunt ran her fingers through my hair and asked me if THAT was the way people were wearing their hair these days.
I remember when my mother went ice skating with me on New Year's Eve. I remember when my dad pitched baseballs to me in the back yard. I remember when I went horseback riding with my dad on the streets of Lake Geneva, and his horse stopped and wouldn't move and he said later he would never go horseback riding again. I remember playing kick the can with the neighborhood kids on our front sidewalk. I remember window shopping downtown with my parents on Sunday afternoons when the stores were not open on Sundays.
I remember riding my two-wheeler across a large bridge on the way to the school I went to then, with my dad driving behind just in case. I remember the smell of freshly made rhubarb torte or chocolate chip cookies greeting me when I got home from school. I remember sitting up late on a Saturday night watching an old and scary black and white horror movie such as 'Wolfman' and having a blanket on my lap to cover my face. I remember my first dog Corky who once got caught behind the refrigerator and a minister had to move the refrigerator to rescue him. I remember the last time Corky ran away and hearing later he had been killed by another dog.
I remember getting sick and wanting to skip school on the days I had to give speeches for speech class. I remember my mother and I going to the library together in summer and each of us coming home with several books. I remember lying in the grass in our backyard reading. I remember playing softball in the street and jacks on the front porch and hospital with a variety of dolls. I remember going to the woods with other kids to play Robin Hood. I remember when the Catholic kids told me they wouldn't play with me because I wasn't Catholic and how my mother took matters into her own hands and telephoned the priest.
I remember our first black and white television and how neighborhood kids used to stand outside our house watching it through the window. I remember sitting on the front porch with my parents after dark in summer before there was air conditioning. I remember watching the 4th of July fireworks sitting on chairs in our backyard. I remember building snowmen and snow forts and not minding shoveling snow. I remember.
Wild Writing
Day 21
Wednesday, May 13, 2020
In Captivity
In Captivity
I pay attention to the weather
(even though I have nowhere to go)
watch the greening of the grass
listen to the sounds of the birds
read a digital book for mental escape
plan a first visit to a grocery store
(whenever that will be)
take a road trip
walk the dog
enjoy tasty meals
make a pile for Goodwill
throw out things I will never use
use zoom as a social outlet
try to stay optimistic
practice being quiet
attempt to avoid boredom
stay away from too much news
try to create but don't succeed
I pay attention to the weather.
Wild Writing
Day 20
Tuesday, May 12, 2020
Nine Surprising Things
Nine Surprising Things
I did a curbside pick-up at Panera and on the directions I asked that the person who delivered to my car wear a mask. They didn't.
I thought I did a good job of protecting and sanitizing the kitchen counter after I divided the bagels into three different bags. I didn't.
My daughter is bringing us Thai food using curbside pickup this noon, and I will give her a few bagels from my earlier curbside bagel order.
Whenever I am settled down doing something and don't want to be disturbed, one of the dogs indicates they need to go outside.
There were two sandhill cranes on the lawn behind the house this morning and a hawk flying overhead. It was a beautiful sight.
I finished one book yesterday and was amazed to immediately find another good book to read today, which usually doesn't happen. This makes me happy.
We finished one series on Netflix yesterday and already have located another series to watch.
The sun is shining. It is warm enough to take a walk today, and I will. Life is good.
Wild Writing
Day 19
I did a curbside pick-up at Panera and on the directions I asked that the person who delivered to my car wear a mask. They didn't.
I thought I did a good job of protecting and sanitizing the kitchen counter after I divided the bagels into three different bags. I didn't.
My daughter is bringing us Thai food using curbside pickup this noon, and I will give her a few bagels from my earlier curbside bagel order.
Whenever I am settled down doing something and don't want to be disturbed, one of the dogs indicates they need to go outside.
There were two sandhill cranes on the lawn behind the house this morning and a hawk flying overhead. It was a beautiful sight.
I finished one book yesterday and was amazed to immediately find another good book to read today, which usually doesn't happen. This makes me happy.
We finished one series on Netflix yesterday and already have located another series to watch.
The sun is shining. It is warm enough to take a walk today, and I will. Life is good.
Wild Writing
Day 19
Monday, May 11, 2020
Hold On
Hold On
You must hold on to your quiet center
seek only the berries of wisdom
reject the cacophony in the world
with its hateful whines and tweets
you must retreat to your inner island
close the doors to disturbing intrusions
seeking the path of light rather than dark
walk with purpose into the forest of the sun
you must eat the apple of self belief
tidy up the clutter of the frantic mind
fill it instead with pleasant ponderings
leave the vacuity and tumult behind
you must hold on to your quiet center
calm the nerves with blissful tones
seek that healing inner silence
shelter the heart with a prayer.
Wild Writing
Day 18
You must hold on to your quiet center
seek only the berries of wisdom
reject the cacophony in the world
with its hateful whines and tweets
you must retreat to your inner island
close the doors to disturbing intrusions
seeking the path of light rather than dark
walk with purpose into the forest of the sun
you must eat the apple of self belief
tidy up the clutter of the frantic mind
fill it instead with pleasant ponderings
leave the vacuity and tumult behind
you must hold on to your quiet center
calm the nerves with blissful tones
seek that healing inner silence
shelter the heart with a prayer.
Wild Writing
Day 18
Sunday, May 10, 2020
Thank You
Thank You
Listen to the silence all around and say thank you
when the sky is filled with rain and clouds
when a text comes to wish a happy Mother's Day
for this time of reflection, contemplation, prayer
say thank you.
When a good meal is prepared and savored
or a good dream replaces a nightmare
when a poem that is liked is finally written
or the curbside pickup is ready and there
is finally somewhere to go, say thank you.
When the number of positive test results go down
and the number of deaths decrease, say thank you
when the rain stops and the grass is greener
after a vigorous outdoor walk in the park
where more than a mile was walked, say thank you.
Listen to the silence all around and say thank you
when you see the wild turkeys on the hill
or the rabbits and the deer come to call
when there is the scent of freshly baked bread
or the smell of savory curry say thank you.
When the sunrise greets yet another new day
when trees bud and flowers grow
when hungry birds can dig for worms
when evening brings yet another day to rest
say thank you.
Listen to the silence all around and say thank you.
Wild Writing
Day 17
Listen to the silence all around and say thank you
when the sky is filled with rain and clouds
when a text comes to wish a happy Mother's Day
for this time of reflection, contemplation, prayer
say thank you.
When a good meal is prepared and savored
or a good dream replaces a nightmare
when a poem that is liked is finally written
or the curbside pickup is ready and there
is finally somewhere to go, say thank you.
When the number of positive test results go down
and the number of deaths decrease, say thank you
when the rain stops and the grass is greener
after a vigorous outdoor walk in the park
where more than a mile was walked, say thank you.
Listen to the silence all around and say thank you
when you see the wild turkeys on the hill
or the rabbits and the deer come to call
when there is the scent of freshly baked bread
or the smell of savory curry say thank you.
When the sunrise greets yet another new day
when trees bud and flowers grow
when hungry birds can dig for worms
when evening brings yet another day to rest
say thank you.
Listen to the silence all around and say thank you.
Wild Writing
Day 17
Saturday, May 9, 2020
How I am Not Alone
How I Am Not Alone
Because when I took the blankets out of the dryer
both dogs were ecstatic waiting to cuddle in them instead
Because we had a meal together, one that she had made
Because the geese outside are noisy and draw attention
to themselves
Because when we took a walk we saw a man cutting his lawn
Because the man walked with his dog down the hill and then up again
Because we watched The Crown together
Because I read a book my sister had liked
Because my daughter sent a text
Because we talked about ordering groceries and decided on a list
Because we planned to order Thai curbside delivery someday next week
Because we had a Zoom movie discussion, and it really seemed like the
others were in the room
Because poetry keeps me a bit connected with poetry
Because I sometimes see what others are doing via social media
Because we share our days together
Because she ordered a Mary Oliver book for me
Because I have memories of how it was before
Because the grass grows and the bright sun gives hope
I am not alone.
Wild Writing
Day 16
Because when I took the blankets out of the dryer
both dogs were ecstatic waiting to cuddle in them instead
Because we had a meal together, one that she had made
Because the geese outside are noisy and draw attention
to themselves
Because when we took a walk we saw a man cutting his lawn
Because the man walked with his dog down the hill and then up again
Because we watched The Crown together
Because I read a book my sister had liked
Because my daughter sent a text
Because we talked about ordering groceries and decided on a list
Because we planned to order Thai curbside delivery someday next week
Because we had a Zoom movie discussion, and it really seemed like the
others were in the room
Because poetry keeps me a bit connected with poetry
Because I sometimes see what others are doing via social media
Because we share our days together
Because she ordered a Mary Oliver book for me
Because I have memories of how it was before
Because the grass grows and the bright sun gives hope
I am not alone.
Wild Writing
Day 16
Friday, May 8, 2020
25 Things About Me
25 Things About Me
1. I don't like to write things that are self-revealing.
2. I would rather remain mostly a mystery.
3. I am more introvert than extrovert.
4. I like vegetarian meals. Fish is good too.
5. I like to eat a variety of ethnic foods.
6. I have qualities of both my mother and father.
7. My mother was shy but would talk or write letters to anyone.
No one thought she was shy.
8. My father was shy and preferred not to talk, but when he
talked it was often important.
9. As a child I liked to read and write. I still do.
10. I used to like to write poetry. Now it is basically work.
11. I don't read as much as I used to. I have trouble finding
an interesting book.
12. I often crave pizza.
13. I like white wine.
14. This list is hard for me.
15. I used to walk half marathons and still like to walk.
16. I used to enjoy biking but don't do that anymore.
17. I have three dogs, each with a different personality.
18. I get antsy if there is nothing to do.
19. I like to discuss things.
20. I am fearful of the political situation.
21. I like to wear blue jeans and sweatshirts and Blundsones.
22. I get up early and love breakfast with coffee.
23. I try not to dwell on my fears.
24. I have traveled to many countries.
25. I pray daily.
Wild Writing
Day 15
1. I don't like to write things that are self-revealing.
2. I would rather remain mostly a mystery.
3. I am more introvert than extrovert.
4. I like vegetarian meals. Fish is good too.
5. I like to eat a variety of ethnic foods.
6. I have qualities of both my mother and father.
7. My mother was shy but would talk or write letters to anyone.
No one thought she was shy.
8. My father was shy and preferred not to talk, but when he
talked it was often important.
9. As a child I liked to read and write. I still do.
10. I used to like to write poetry. Now it is basically work.
11. I don't read as much as I used to. I have trouble finding
an interesting book.
12. I often crave pizza.
13. I like white wine.
14. This list is hard for me.
15. I used to walk half marathons and still like to walk.
16. I used to enjoy biking but don't do that anymore.
17. I have three dogs, each with a different personality.
18. I get antsy if there is nothing to do.
19. I like to discuss things.
20. I am fearful of the political situation.
21. I like to wear blue jeans and sweatshirts and Blundsones.
22. I get up early and love breakfast with coffee.
23. I try not to dwell on my fears.
24. I have traveled to many countries.
25. I pray daily.
Wild Writing
Day 15
Thursday, May 7, 2020
Dark Times
Dark Times
It's not always comfortable
the chair is a little too soft
and the news a little too bleak
for my liking.
And my back hurts when I rise.
I try not to wrap myself around
the discomforts of the day
my stomach turns and back hurts
when will I feel good again?
The food is not always delicious
but it is all I have and I don't
want to go hungry or starve
for lack of news or pears.
I am aware of what I'm seeing
but refuse to embrace it
I try to keep my courage
wish the fear to be gone
It's not always comfortable
the chair is a little too soft
a bit too easy to sink into
for my liking.
And my back hurts when I rise.
Wild Writing
Day 14
It's not always comfortable
the chair is a little too soft
and the news a little too bleak
for my liking.
And my back hurts when I rise.
I try not to wrap myself around
the discomforts of the day
my stomach turns and back hurts
when will I feel good again?
The food is not always delicious
but it is all I have and I don't
want to go hungry or starve
for lack of news or pears.
I am aware of what I'm seeing
but refuse to embrace it
I try to keep my courage
wish the fear to be gone
It's not always comfortable
the chair is a little too soft
a bit too easy to sink into
for my liking.
And my back hurts when I rise.
Wild Writing
Day 14
Wednesday, May 6, 2020
This is the Everyday We Spoke Of
This is the Everyday We Spoke Of
I wake up in the morning, turn on the coffee,
dress, take out the dogs one by one,
feed them, then eat my breakfast
half a bagel and an orange and coffee
breakfast doesn't change much these days
prayer group next, then check the news
this is the everyday we spoke of
now it's time to vacuum, wash clothes,
sort through things, throw stuff away
take a morning walk since it's sunny
I take a trip to the gas station for
the first time in eight weeks, wear
a mask and gloves to be safe
this is the everyday we spoke of
now is time to write a poem
hope to receive divine inspiration
then curried vegetables and rice for lunch
time for a Netflix movie, Mansfield
Park it is for today. I hope I will
stay awake with all the business of the day.
This is the everyday we spoke of.
Wild Writing
Day 13
Tuesday, May 5, 2020
This Poem Cannot.....
This Poem Cannot...
This poem cannot take away fear
bring back normalcy, make masks,
or cut one's hair.
This poem cannot grocery shop,
fill up the gas tank, travel up north
for the weekend getaway.
This poem cannot buy pizza, take
the dog for a walk, picnic in the park,
celebrate a family birthday.
This poem cannot visit a friend,
go to church, eat in a restaurant
go to a concert or play
This poem cannot dispel sadness,
take a temperature, attach a ventilator,
develop a vaccine to prevent a disease
This poem cannot predict an election,
dispel misinformation, stop fake news,
restore sanity.
This poem cannot take away fear.
Wild Writing
Day 12
Monday, May 4, 2020
Why You Should Pick Me
Why You Should Pick Me
1. I am organized
2. I can do two things at once
3. I am kind and thoughtful
4. I love dogs
5. I am good at organizing dishes in the dishwasher
6. I like to do grocery shopping
7. I like good discussions
8. I like to listen to what others say
9. I am creative
10. I listen
11. I am willing to throw out things
12. I am open minded
13. I can peel a lot of vegetables.
14. I like to attend prayer services
15. I am practical
16. I like blue jeans and sweatshirts
17. I like series on Netflix
18. I am a good person
Wild Writing
Day 11
1. I am organized
2. I can do two things at once
3. I am kind and thoughtful
4. I love dogs
5. I am good at organizing dishes in the dishwasher
6. I like to do grocery shopping
7. I like good discussions
8. I like to listen to what others say
9. I am creative
10. I listen
11. I am willing to throw out things
12. I am open minded
13. I can peel a lot of vegetables.
14. I like to attend prayer services
15. I am practical
16. I like blue jeans and sweatshirts
17. I like series on Netflix
18. I am a good person
Wild Writing
Day 11
Sunday, May 3, 2020
What If You Knew...?
What If You Knew?
What if you knew that this would never end
that social distancing would last forever
that we could never meet in groups again
that a vaccine would never be found
that no more concerts would be held
that hospital visits would never be possible
that schools would never open
that planes would never fly
and cruise ships would languish forever
that the elderly would be abandoned
that blacks and Latinos would die as meatpackers
that undocumented and poor would simply die
that elections would not be held
that armed protests would multiply
that democracy would come to an end
that this was only the beginning of the nightmare
that weaponized Covid 19 had its way
in bringing us closer to fascism each day.
What if you knew?
Wild Writing
Day 10
What if you knew that this would never end
that social distancing would last forever
that we could never meet in groups again
that a vaccine would never be found
that no more concerts would be held
that hospital visits would never be possible
that schools would never open
that planes would never fly
and cruise ships would languish forever
that the elderly would be abandoned
that blacks and Latinos would die as meatpackers
that undocumented and poor would simply die
that elections would not be held
that armed protests would multiply
that democracy would come to an end
that this was only the beginning of the nightmare
that weaponized Covid 19 had its way
in bringing us closer to fascism each day.
What if you knew?
Wild Writing
Day 10
Saturday, May 2, 2020
Everything is Precious
Everything is Precious
Everything is precious
every plastic bag has a second use
perhaps for an extra roll
or carrot peels or dog waste
throw very little away,
repurpose what you can
in these pandemic days
Everything is precious
hand sanitizer is gold
dish detergent is silver
hope they won't run out
shampoo, hand soap, toothpaste
how long will they last
in these pandemic days
Everything is precious
how much chicken in the freezer
how many potatoes, carrots,
zucchini until we run out
what happens IF we do run out
when we DO run out
in these pandemic days
Everything is precious
the last shriveled orange
crust of bread, piece of cheese,
cookie, vitamin, dab of hand cream
and time is very precious
in these pandemic days
Everything is precious!
Wild Writing
Day 9
Friday, May 1, 2020
To Live In This World
To Live in This World
To live in this world you must
embrace all of it, even what is
foist upon you against your will
even when you feel like a caged animal
trapped and unable to be free
stuck there with dreams of freedom
the desire to run, the desire to scream
into the wind with heart pounding
To survive in this world you must
embrace all of it, the good and
the bad, darkness and light,
the smile of joy, pain of loss,
loud laughter and flowing tears
the endless minutes of nothingness
the endless hours of nothingness
the endless days of nothingness
To live in this world you must
embrace all of it, as days drag on
when nerves are on edge
and dreams come to a halt and
it's harder to find joy and to be
philosophical with no end in sight
as we try to make sense
of life as it is in this world.
Wild Writing-
Day 8
To live in this world you must
embrace all of it, even what is
foist upon you against your will
even when you feel like a caged animal
trapped and unable to be free
stuck there with dreams of freedom
the desire to run, the desire to scream
into the wind with heart pounding
To survive in this world you must
embrace all of it, the good and
the bad, darkness and light,
the smile of joy, pain of loss,
loud laughter and flowing tears
the endless minutes of nothingness
the endless hours of nothingness
the endless days of nothingness
To live in this world you must
embrace all of it, as days drag on
when nerves are on edge
and dreams come to a halt and
it's harder to find joy and to be
philosophical with no end in sight
as we try to make sense
of life as it is in this world.
Wild Writing-
Day 8
Thursday, April 30, 2020
The Poem Starts Here
The Poem Starts Here
The poem starts here
right now in this moment
of this my seventh writing day
It awakens early in the morning
moves from room to room
looks out the window
notices the pouring rain
has a bagel with coffee
before deciding what to do
and it doesn't question what to write
which subject or which words
because all beginnings lead somewhere
down hallways into rooms
up some stairs and down others
doors open and doors close
and I will not question the poem
its subject or its choice of words
as there is no right or wrong
only today leading to tomorrow
into some kind of unknown future
this poem ends here
Wild Writing
Day 7
Wednesday, April 29, 2020
What If?
What If?
What if the time of the virus went on for the rest of my life
and I could never interact with people again
that this is what life would always be like
isolating being the forever norm
a trapped feeling a way of life
the anger building
smile fading.
What if the time of the virus went on for the rest of my life
and I ran out of things to do and books to read
and areas to clean and junk to throw out
while nightmares replaced restful sleep
and I wanted to scream loudly
to shake a fist at God
and did.
Wild Writing - Day 6
What if the time of the virus went on for the rest of my life
and I could never interact with people again
that this is what life would always be like
isolating being the forever norm
a trapped feeling a way of life
the anger building
smile fading.
What if the time of the virus went on for the rest of my life
and I ran out of things to do and books to read
and areas to clean and junk to throw out
while nightmares replaced restful sleep
and I wanted to scream loudly
to shake a fist at God
and did.
Wild Writing - Day 6
Tuesday, April 28, 2020
Weren't We Beautiful Then?
Weren't We Beautiful Then?
Weren't we beautiful then
when we walked through the streets of Jerusalem
enjoyed the scenes, people, food, ambiance
wandered into stores and freely touched what we wanted to buy.
Weren't we beautiful then
when we could hike along the Seven Bridges Trail
peopled or not, Covid still an unknown word,
winding through nature, hair blowing in the wind.
Weren't we beautiful then
when we had a family Memorial Day barbecue
nothing like grilled burgers being eaten together,
lively conversation, a shared meal around a common table.
Weren't we beautiful then
when we visited Kopps Ice Cream
on a hot summer day and sat on benches to eat
and it didn't matter if we were six feet away.
Weren't we beautiful then
when we planned what we wanted to do
didn't have to worry about infected people
life was so gentle then.
Weren't we beautiful then
I realize we took so much for granted
oblivious to the fact that things could change
we have pictures of the way things were.
Weren't we beautiful then
our days stretched out before us
the sun shining - and when the rain came
we knew the sun would appear tomorrow.
Weren't we beautiful then?
Wild Writing Day 5
Weren't we beautiful then
when we walked through the streets of Jerusalem
enjoyed the scenes, people, food, ambiance
wandered into stores and freely touched what we wanted to buy.
Weren't we beautiful then
when we could hike along the Seven Bridges Trail
peopled or not, Covid still an unknown word,
winding through nature, hair blowing in the wind.
Weren't we beautiful then
when we had a family Memorial Day barbecue
nothing like grilled burgers being eaten together,
lively conversation, a shared meal around a common table.
Weren't we beautiful then
when we visited Kopps Ice Cream
on a hot summer day and sat on benches to eat
and it didn't matter if we were six feet away.
Weren't we beautiful then
when we planned what we wanted to do
didn't have to worry about infected people
life was so gentle then.
Weren't we beautiful then
I realize we took so much for granted
oblivious to the fact that things could change
we have pictures of the way things were.
Weren't we beautiful then
our days stretched out before us
the sun shining - and when the rain came
we knew the sun would appear tomorrow.
Weren't we beautiful then?
Wild Writing Day 5
Monday, April 27, 2020
What Do You Want to Remember About These Days?
What Do You Want to Remember About These Days?
What do you want to remember about these days
that stretched out endlessly without much change
wondering what we would do during the day
and never a different kind of answer
the way we peeled carrots and potatoes and parsnips
the hum of the dishwasher and the whir of the roomba
warmth of dogs cuddling on my outstretched legs
thoughts in the middle of the night that interfered with sleep
new possibilities that emerge when least expected
texts to my grandchildren that often went unanswered
even though I know they are home
the books I tried to read but couldn't
the Netflix shows we watched to fritter away the day
the way I finally made myself throw things out
realization that I hardly had the need for shoes
and could subsist with a few sweatshirts and jeans
hoping for warmth and no rain so we could walk
at a time of day we'd encounter no people
morning prayer and evening studies
church services and movie discussion group
how much social life revolved around zoom
how I was more antsy than lonely
wanting to move myself but where is there to go
as I yearned for the day I could shop again
what do you want to remember about these days
just what is worth remembering about today?
Wildest Days - Day 4
What do you want to remember about these days
that stretched out endlessly without much change
wondering what we would do during the day
and never a different kind of answer
the way we peeled carrots and potatoes and parsnips
the hum of the dishwasher and the whir of the roomba
warmth of dogs cuddling on my outstretched legs
thoughts in the middle of the night that interfered with sleep
new possibilities that emerge when least expected
texts to my grandchildren that often went unanswered
even though I know they are home
the books I tried to read but couldn't
the Netflix shows we watched to fritter away the day
the way I finally made myself throw things out
realization that I hardly had the need for shoes
and could subsist with a few sweatshirts and jeans
hoping for warmth and no rain so we could walk
at a time of day we'd encounter no people
morning prayer and evening studies
church services and movie discussion group
how much social life revolved around zoom
how I was more antsy than lonely
wanting to move myself but where is there to go
as I yearned for the day I could shop again
what do you want to remember about these days
just what is worth remembering about today?
Wildest Days - Day 4
Sunday, April 26, 2020
Today When I Could Do Nothing
Today When I Could Do Nothing
Today when I could do nothing
I do very little which is something
I realize I am not an essential service
which means I have no obligations
and so I can forgive myself
for the leisurely drift through the day
I often yearned to have life slow down
but now all days are slow
unhurried and leisurely hour by hour
no need to rush on a sheltering day
Yet why am I sometimes so tired
from doing only a little something
not rushing into anything
merely watching the hours flow
I do very little which is something
today when I could do nothing.
Wildest Days - Day 3
Today when I could do nothing
I do very little which is something
I realize I am not an essential service
which means I have no obligations
and so I can forgive myself
for the leisurely drift through the day
I often yearned to have life slow down
but now all days are slow
unhurried and leisurely hour by hour
no need to rush on a sheltering day
Yet why am I sometimes so tired
from doing only a little something
not rushing into anything
merely watching the hours flow
I do very little which is something
today when I could do nothing.
Wildest Days - Day 3
Saturday, April 25, 2020
Pandemic
Pandemic
What if you thought of it as opportunity
an opportunity for silence
an opportunity for reflection
time to explore just who you are
when there is nothing else you can do
but just be.......
What if you thought of it as an opportunity
to connect with God and nature
reach out with heart and mind
empathize with other humankind
(we're all in this together)
What if you thought of it as an opportunity
to read more (and something different)
be kinder and more tolerant
to organize one's space
to do what had been neglected
What if you thought of it as opportunity
to explore more of who you are
learn something new
listen without the need to speak
at this time of slowness when there is time
to just be......
Wildest Days - Day 2
What if you thought of it as opportunity
an opportunity for silence
an opportunity for reflection
time to explore just who you are
when there is nothing else you can do
but just be.......
What if you thought of it as an opportunity
to connect with God and nature
reach out with heart and mind
empathize with other humankind
(we're all in this together)
What if you thought of it as an opportunity
to read more (and something different)
be kinder and more tolerant
to organize one's space
to do what had been neglected
What if you thought of it as opportunity
to explore more of who you are
learn something new
listen without the need to speak
at this time of slowness when there is time
to just be......
Wildest Days - Day 2
Now that the Virus is Here
Now that the Virus is Here
I'd like to tell you the way it is now that the virus is here
gas is cheap but there is nowhere to go
I can't remember the date of my last fill up
a highlight of the day can be food delivery
but food must sit on the porch a while for safety
and then sanitized before it is put away
and when we drove to the other side of the city
just to look at the lake I was aware of how many
people did not wear masks--working men
chatted by their trucks as they always did
before the virus came and young men ran
biked or walked, feeling invincibility of youth
not realizing things have changed with the virus
not caring that their bravado may infect us all
and I have found myself yearning to walk through
grocery stores, to choose my own meat and produce
instead of having it chosen by an invisible shopper
and remembering how it was to sit in a theater
or church or restaurant, to have a family dinner
where people sat together instead of talking on Zoom
which is all we can do now held captive by the virus
and I wonder how long it will be before schools can open
before we can get haircuts or go to the dentist
how long before another baseball season
whether we will feel safe at a large concert ever again
or shake hands as we did before the virus came
I shelter in place and wonder what the world will learn
from this time much of the world has come to a halt,
but this is the way it is now
now that the virus is here.
Written for 27 Wildest Days - Day 1
Shared at Earthweal.
I'd like to tell you the way it is now that the virus is here
gas is cheap but there is nowhere to go
I can't remember the date of my last fill up
a highlight of the day can be food delivery
but food must sit on the porch a while for safety
and then sanitized before it is put away
and when we drove to the other side of the city
just to look at the lake I was aware of how many
people did not wear masks--working men
chatted by their trucks as they always did
before the virus came and young men ran
biked or walked, feeling invincibility of youth
not realizing things have changed with the virus
not caring that their bravado may infect us all
and I have found myself yearning to walk through
grocery stores, to choose my own meat and produce
instead of having it chosen by an invisible shopper
and remembering how it was to sit in a theater
or church or restaurant, to have a family dinner
where people sat together instead of talking on Zoom
which is all we can do now held captive by the virus
and I wonder how long it will be before schools can open
before we can get haircuts or go to the dentist
how long before another baseball season
whether we will feel safe at a large concert ever again
or shake hands as we did before the virus came
I shelter in place and wonder what the world will learn
from this time much of the world has come to a halt,
but this is the way it is now
now that the virus is here.
Written for 27 Wildest Days - Day 1
Shared at Earthweal.
Monday, January 27, 2020
Nothing Good
Nothing Good
So many animals dying
I can't look at another picture
I can't watch another video
nothing good comes of this
for me
I just can't wrap my arms
or my heart or my head
around such sadness now
nothing good comes of this
for me
I have to focus elsewhere
protect myself as I must
lest I sink into a dark abyss
nothing good comes of this
for me.
--------------
I am profoundly sad and heartbroken
for the animals of climate change,
for all who suffer and die
due to human negligence
but along with everything else
happening in this country, this world
for self preservation I have to look away.
This was written in response to Sherry Blue Sky's challenge at Earthweal: The Animals of Climate Change.
Wednesday, January 22, 2020
What Do You Drink?
What Do You Drink?
but is it safe to drink bottled water when
93% of bottled water contains micro-plastic particles
if water is not safe to drink, what is?
If one drinks water from the tap it could come from
a lead service line causing poisoning over the years
Not only Flint but in the metro areas of many cities
of course most often in the most impoverished areas.
Resource: https://orbmedia.org/stories/plus-plastic/ (plastic particles in bottled water)
Resource: https://www.edf.org/health/lead-pipes-threat-kids-across-america (lead in pipes)
In your comment, let me know what water you most often drink. I have shown a picture of New Zealand Artesian Water, which I most often drink. Sometimes I drink sparkling water. My tap water IS safe, I think. No lead pipe, but still more chemicals than the artesian water. I do use tap water for coffee though. Smiles.
This was written for / shared with Earthweal Weekly Challenge - Water.
Saturday, January 18, 2020
Privacy
Privacy
What of one's life is private anymore?
We are involved with social media
sharing where we are and with whom
what we think politically
where we travel and where we eat
who our family is and our friends
whether we are single, dating
married, divorced, or not.
As if it mattered.
What of one's life is private anymore?
We tweet in response to someone
or perhaps just tweet in order
to elicit response, post recipes
or photos on pinterest, use
instagram to gain followers/friends
with poetry or dogs or smiling faces
or beautiful plates of well-prepared food.
As if it mattered.
What of one's life is private anymore?
Are we less lonely from constant exposure
posting our poems in the blogosphere
waiting for someone/anyone to respond
playing Words with Friends with strangers
wondering who would notice if we
disappeared into the abyss forever
is this what life has become?
As if it mattered.
This is posted for Earthweal Open Link #3 and also for The Sunday Muse with its bottle tree photo. I look upon the photo as representing the lack of privacy when all is hung for the world to see.
Monday, January 13, 2020
Your Eyes
 |
| Arctic Fox - photo from "Sunday Muse" |
Your Eyes
Your eyes do not frighten me
their intensity seizes my gaze
never has there been a time like this
never has there been a time like this
with so many invaluable lives dying
fires, global warming, guns, disease
stench of death chokes my mind
and as the devastation continues
I perceive the ghosts of those deceased
so many spirits virtually fill the sky
so many spirits virtually fill the sky
perhaps it is they who are reflected
in the intense sadness of your eyes
of a depth I struggle to comprehend.
This poem is written for Sunday Muse #90 and Earthweal Weekly Challenge - Ghosts.
So many animals, so many species, exist no more thanks to the devastation humankind has caused and continues to cause. We have to hope........and act.
of a depth I struggle to comprehend.
This poem is written for Sunday Muse #90 and Earthweal Weekly Challenge - Ghosts.
So many animals, so many species, exist no more thanks to the devastation humankind has caused and continues to cause. We have to hope........and act.
Saturday, January 11, 2020
Beginning a New Year
Beginning a New Year
The new year has begun
no distinct difference marks
the point between
one year and another
so
in my mind I flow gently
out of one year into another
with a glass of champagne
I first look back then ahead
knowing
my past now only memory
the path a life lived well
in many completed chapters
all leading somewhere
but where
will I travel next as I
cross into year 2020
embrace a new chapter
and enter into the yet
unknown
Posted to Earthweal's Open Link
Wednesday, December 18, 2019
An End of Another Year
An End of Another Year
So it is the end of another year
and as I watch impeachment proceedings
I wonder if it is not also the end of an era
of truth had been the standard to embrace.
So it is the end of another year
and time to contemplate mortality
another college friend funeral this week
three gone, but five of us remain....yet.
So it is the end of another year
presents are bought though not wrapped
homes are decorated with resplendent lights
children are born, thus hope still lives.
Porch pirates now steal delivered gifts
some of them caught by ring doorbell cameras
oh what a strange world we live in now
with few paper Christmas cards sent any more.
But I heard real Christmas trees are resurging
I see them being sold everywhere now
but wonder if this is not a waste of trees
which might better be left in the ground.
So it is the end of the year for us all
We must try to keep hope for future
2020 will arrive soon, let's embrace hope
for the world and for one another.
Written for Susan's last Midweek Motif
Have a happy holiday everyone and have hope for the new year!
So it is the end of another year
and as I watch impeachment proceedings
I wonder if it is not also the end of an era
of truth had been the standard to embrace.
So it is the end of another year
and time to contemplate mortality
another college friend funeral this week
three gone, but five of us remain....yet.
So it is the end of another year
presents are bought though not wrapped
homes are decorated with resplendent lights
children are born, thus hope still lives.
Porch pirates now steal delivered gifts
some of them caught by ring doorbell cameras
oh what a strange world we live in now
with few paper Christmas cards sent any more.
But I heard real Christmas trees are resurging
I see them being sold everywhere now
but wonder if this is not a waste of trees
which might better be left in the ground.
So it is the end of the year for us all
We must try to keep hope for future
2020 will arrive soon, let's embrace hope
for the world and for one another.
Written for Susan's last Midweek Motif
Have a happy holiday everyone and have hope for the new year!
Friday, November 8, 2019
Writing Poetry
Writing Poetry
I wonder if I have written
all of the poems I have in me.
Does every poet have a finite
number of poems inside?
When poems are exhausted
is there nothing more?
Or if the number is infinite
will I be inspired to write again?
What motivates a poet to write,
who determines words' importance?
And the question behind the question -
who besides another poet cares?
For Poetry Pantry
If you comment, I would be interested in what you think.
How would you answer any / all of the questions?
What do you think about writing poetry in general?
Saturday, October 26, 2019
October
October
Embrace October
hold it close to your breast
welcome its presence into your life
do not dread the chill in the air
the falling of leaves, the losses borne
the shadow of death on the horizon.
Death is not yet, death is not yet.
Embrace October
appreciate the gifts it brings
the new beauty, the fresh outlook
a time of love and reflection.
Slow down to look again
at what is important and true.
You'll feel it yet, you'll feel it yet.
Embrace October
with all its contradictions
possible alongside impossible
not looking back, nor far ahead.
Live today with October's bounty
know you have only this day.
You have it yet, you have it yet.
I am sharing this poem from 2013 in today's Poetry Pantry. It feels apt and important. It is still October. We all have this day to enjoy. Only this day! Today! You have it yet. I wish each of you well today and all the todays ahead of you.
Saturday, October 19, 2019
All Saints Day
All Saints Day
Light a candle for those who have died
for loved ones who have gone before
we all travel the same path
and sometimes I like to think
that those who have gone before
may light candles for us too
on the other side of the great divide.
This is one from 2014, but it remains a significant poem for me. All Saints Day occurs almost the same time as Halloween. I am thinking at this moment of all those saints who have gone before. Posted in Poetry Pantry.
Friday, October 11, 2019
If Only
If Only
I always hope for happy endings
in life or movies or books
someone lives happily ever after
evil punished, good rewarded
tornado doesn't touch ground
trapped miners rescued
bomb does not detonate
most qualified promoted
good deeds recognized
drowning man revived
everyone safe at home
friend a friend forever
families live in peace
every disease a cure
best candidate wins
prayer answered
brakes take hold
depression lifted
sick child healed
lost child found
gun unloaded
plane lands
wars end
every problem has a solution
if only it were so.
For Poets United Poetry Pantry
I continue to wax nostalgic. This poem of mine was first posted in Poetry Pantry #6. Nothing has changed since then. If anyone wants to continue to communicate with me via email after I am no longer part of Poets United's staff at the end of October, please do let me know. Either email me or leave your email address with me below.
Thursday, September 26, 2019
Silence
Silence
Where do all the poems go
when people are silent?
Where does life go
when people are silent?
Silence is heavy, but is
perhaps the new norm as life
evolves, changes. Other
things take precedence
or there is no time or
less interest as other
things fill the space and
sometimes it is just
so easy to forget. Part
of society's cycle. But
as a creature of habit
I cannot help feeling sad
and wonder if someday
I will cast my words
to the wind and they
will disappear on
a gentle warm breeze
and I will stand there
waving good-bye
to nothing in particular.
This poem was written originally on August 7, 2010, and was submitted for Poetry Pantry #3. Actually I am amazed at this poem, how very profound it is and how relevant it is to me today. As I read it, it is like going back into a time machine.....and yes, it is still true!
Submitted once again for Poetry Pantry #495.
Thursday, September 19, 2019
In One Second
In One Second (Revisited)
In one second life can forever change;
someone becomes pregnant, falls
downstairs, opens the door to the
intruder, hears it's cancer, it's over,
it's too late, sees a look she was not
meant to see, speaks words without
thought, cannot pull them back, pulls
the trigger, encounters black ice, skids
can't stop. All it takes is one second
for life to twist down an unforeseen path
and directions to the former path are lost.
I wrote this poem on November 12, 2008. A bit of nostalgia. It is significant to me because it is the poem I linked in Poets United's VERY first Poetry Pantry on July 27, 2010. This week it is Poetry Pantry 494.
In one second life can forever change;
someone becomes pregnant, falls
downstairs, opens the door to the
intruder, hears it's cancer, it's over,
it's too late, sees a look she was not
meant to see, speaks words without
thought, cannot pull them back, pulls
the trigger, encounters black ice, skids
can't stop. All it takes is one second
for life to twist down an unforeseen path
and directions to the former path are lost.
I wrote this poem on November 12, 2008. A bit of nostalgia. It is significant to me because it is the poem I linked in Poets United's VERY first Poetry Pantry on July 27, 2010. This week it is Poetry Pantry 494.
Friday, September 13, 2019
Not the Last Poem
Not the Last Poem
This is not the last poem I will write
no final statement to read at my grave
nothing of great significance to anyone
imperfect, unrevised, rough. Words float
to the page, profound or unpolished,
it matters not, as there will be another poem
tomorrow and tomorrow after that, but someday
I will write the perfect poem to capture my life
will then be able leave this earth satisfied
that I have created the last poem I will write.
No revisions to poem or life possible,
life's work complete.
This is a poem I wrote in 2008 - unrevised - before ANYONE was reading my poetry. One of the first poems blogged. I like my early work much better than anything I write now, to be honest. Sometimes I truly am amazed at the 'good stuff' I discover when I look back.
Sharing in Poets United Poetry Pantry
This is not the last poem I will write
no final statement to read at my grave
nothing of great significance to anyone
imperfect, unrevised, rough. Words float
to the page, profound or unpolished,
it matters not, as there will be another poem
tomorrow and tomorrow after that, but someday
I will write the perfect poem to capture my life
will then be able leave this earth satisfied
that I have created the last poem I will write.
No revisions to poem or life possible,
life's work complete.
This is a poem I wrote in 2008 - unrevised - before ANYONE was reading my poetry. One of the first poems blogged. I like my early work much better than anything I write now, to be honest. Sometimes I truly am amazed at the 'good stuff' I discover when I look back.
Sharing in Poets United Poetry Pantry
Saturday, September 7, 2019
Autumn Day
Autumn Day
Autumn day
and I contemplate
how much time
I have yet
to enjoy resplendent scenes
of early morning.
Sky meets lake
creation reflects
sun dances
lake glitters
perhaps this is heaven's gate
to eternity.
Nature's peace
Autumnal reflection
waves ripple
and I yearn
to learn so much more
before the sun sets.
I took this photo one morning. Each stanza of this poem is a shadorma.
I wrote it for Poets United Poetry Pantry a few years ago and was in the
mood to share it again.
Saturday, August 24, 2019
Time for a Change of Guard
Time for a Change of Guard
I suppose I should not be ageist or sexist,
but I think the old men of this world
have done enough damage to the planet,
and it is now time for a change of guard
Bring on the younger men women,
those who care about the future of our earth:
let them take charge and try to reverse damage
unless it is already too late
Bring on those men and women
who care about people no matter their race,
religion, education, country of origin,
economics, sexual orientation, or age.
Bring on the bold, the fearless, determined
to make a difference, determined to save
what they can, reverse the damage they can,
and work tirelessly for the good of all.
I suppose I should not be ageist or sexist,
but, in this political regard, admittedly I am.
Written for Poets United Poetry Pantry
I think it is time for candidates in their 40's and 50's to take the helm of this sinking ship. I do think this time around we would do well to consider strongly both women and candidates of color. The old white men have screwed things up royally.
I suppose I should not be ageist or sexist,
but I think the old men of this world
have done enough damage to the planet,
and it is now time for a change of guard
Bring on the younger men women,
those who care about the future of our earth:
let them take charge and try to reverse damage
unless it is already too late
Bring on those men and women
who care about people no matter their race,
religion, education, country of origin,
economics, sexual orientation, or age.
Bring on the bold, the fearless, determined
to make a difference, determined to save
what they can, reverse the damage they can,
and work tirelessly for the good of all.
I suppose I should not be ageist or sexist,
but, in this political regard, admittedly I am.
Written for Poets United Poetry Pantry
I think it is time for candidates in their 40's and 50's to take the helm of this sinking ship. I do think this time around we would do well to consider strongly both women and candidates of color. The old white men have screwed things up royally.
Friday, August 16, 2019
A Few Short Letters
 |
| Source |
Dear France:
How about you take back
the Statue of Liberty?
We are no longer interested in
sheltering the huddled masses and
homeless must seek refuge elsewhere.
The golden door is rusty from disuse,
is slammed shut and barred.
Dear Evangelical Church:
How about you revise
your teachings to reflect
the fact that you no longer
love your neighbor as yourself
nor believe that God's love
extends equally to people
from every nation?
Where is your hateful rhetoric
of rich white supremacy
included in God's word?
Dear Country:
How did it happen that
you now accept lies daily
and don't bat an eye
nor protest in the street?
Why do you remain silent
in the face of absolute evil?
Why do you continually
look the other way,
to pretend you don't see?
Dear Earth:
How did it happen that
our silence seems to condone
destruction of your air and water,
your habitats holding so much life?
Why do we not apologize to you
as we pollute and destroy
and terrorize all that is yours?
Dear Children:
What kind of future will we leave you?
Why do we destroy what we were given
in the name of big money and corruption,
which will eventually obliterate good,
and instead present you with a rotten
inheritance as the stink of evil abounds?
Dear Self:
What legacy will you leave?
How do you wish to be remembered?
What did you do when you had a chance
to make a difference?
What do you see as you look in the mirror?
How about you think.......?
This is written for Poetry Pantry.
Friday, July 26, 2019
I Used to Have Hope
I Used to Have Hope
I used to have hope
think things would get better
that rough patches would be short
but somehow hope died
along with dreams of
a better future so now
I only live from day to day
try not to watch much news
have little faith things will change
because I had faith before
that something anything
would be too much to bear
but nothing makes a difference
as the lies continue and
evil multiplies and spreads
the sham just continues
I can't bear the news
and fear the future more,
This is for Poets United Poetry Pantry.
I apologize for the depressing tone
and truly wish I could write some
upbeat poetry.
If anyone has thoughts on how to
write upbeat poetry at times like this,
please feel free to leave your ideas
in comments.
I used to have hope
think things would get better
that rough patches would be short
but somehow hope died
along with dreams of
a better future so now
I only live from day to day
try not to watch much news
have little faith things will change
because I had faith before
that something anything
would be too much to bear
but nothing makes a difference
as the lies continue and
evil multiplies and spreads
the sham just continues
I can't bear the news
and fear the future more,
This is for Poets United Poetry Pantry.
I apologize for the depressing tone
and truly wish I could write some
upbeat poetry.
If anyone has thoughts on how to
write upbeat poetry at times like this,
please feel free to leave your ideas
in comments.
Friday, July 19, 2019
Little Butterfly
Little Butterfly
Little butterfly
I am elated that you
settled on my foot. I must
appear as large to you as
you look small to me. What
a trusting spirit you are!
I will honor that trust.
Here, let me put you
somewhere safe. May
you lead a long life
always find safe havens.
when you fly.
Submitted for Poets United Poetry Pantry
I wrote this short poem some years ago. I came
upon it again today and reflected a bit on it in a broader way
than the way I had first intended it. It is nice when even the
poet can find new meaning in their poem.
Friday, July 12, 2019
Sunday Morning
 |
| Source |
Sunday Morning
As we wake up this Sunday morning
2000 families facing deportation orders
are set to be rounded up and sent away.
Detention camps exist on the southern border
children taken from parents never seen again
the face of evil gloats as humanity cries and screams
The puppetmaster and henchmen plot a war
to continue to keep the support of his base
who might need a war to keep his masses riled.
He wants to 'punish' China with tariffs and
perhaps put high tariffs on French wines
not caring that consumers will pay the price
He strikes down environmental protections
does not allow research that shows climate change
threatens freedom of the press with cries of 'fake news.'
Fearful immigrants are set to be rounded up
as moneyed sex offenders walk haughtily free
after a while we forget what normal feels like
As we wake up this Sunday morning
we will go about our lives with our blank faces
look the other way as immigrants are hauled away.
This is written for Poets United Poetry Pantry on Sunday!
We will see what the day brings. I doubt it will be good news.
Saturday, July 6, 2019
Away From Home
Away from Home
I always consider that I have two homes: the home that I live in at present and my childhood home. The home of the present has changed over the years. As an adult I lived in various cities, apartments, homes. I was attached to each adult home in varying degrees. I must say I love my present home and can't imagine I would love any home more.
But there is another home that I have -- my childhood home — the home of my heart. That one never changed; and actually I can picture each room of this house in great detail. I remember more small details about this home than I do about any other. I also remember the neighborhood and the neighbors. I could still go up and down that block and tell who lived where.
In summer my bedroom was hot; we had no air conditioning. Thus I could hear everything happening late at night outside. Larry and Margaret lived next door, had a noisy party once a year, and I could always spy on it from my upstairs bedroom. That was fun. Howie and Roseanne lived on the home on the other side. He had a girlfriend, and I often heard him come home very late after having been out at the bar. His wife sometimes had bruises. That was not fun.
My mother typed late at night on her typewriter, writing to relatives and politicians. The kitchen was her room. My dad was not happy if he did had no car to work on or no baseball game to listen to. My mother rose early and watered the garden and made rhubarb torte, and I woke up to the smell. My dad pitched balls to me in the backyard. We watched “I Love Lucy” on TV. I remember well the ambience of THAT home though I am NOW far away.
This is written for Poets United - for Magaly's 5th Pantry of Prose. The theme this week is "away from home." This piece has exactly 313 words.
Saturday, June 29, 2019
Does the Earth Feel?
Does the Earth Feel?
Does the earth feel?
Does the earth cry?
Does the earth think?
I wonder sometime
but I cannot know
because it does not speak
except for the heat
except for the floods
will we heed its tears?
except for the pollution
except for the extinction
will we heed its tears?
except for the hurricanes
except for the warming
will we heed its tears?
except for the drilling
except for coal mining
will we heed its tears?
Does the earth feel?
Does the earth cry?
Do we care for the future at all?
Some thoughts written for Poets United Poetry Pantry
Does the earth feel?
Does the earth cry?
Does the earth think?
I wonder sometime
but I cannot know
because it does not speak
except for the heat
except for the floods
will we heed its tears?
except for the pollution
except for the extinction
will we heed its tears?
except for the hurricanes
except for the warming
will we heed its tears?
except for the drilling
except for coal mining
will we heed its tears?
Does the earth feel?
Does the earth cry?
Do we care for the future at all?
Some thoughts written for Poets United Poetry Pantry
Saturday, June 22, 2019
This is the New Normal
This is the New Normal
This is the new normal
nothing incriminating
nothing negative
keep silent, eyes open
watch your step
stay under the radar
don't attract attention
next time it could be you.
This is my poem for today
I had written another one
but then I began to fear
it will not see light of day
keep silent, watch your step
this is the new normal.
This Sunday morning 2000 families are facing deportation orders!
This is shared with Poets United Poetry Pantry.
This is the new normal
nothing incriminating
nothing negative
keep silent, eyes open
watch your step
stay under the radar
don't attract attention
next time it could be you.
This is my poem for today
I had written another one
but then I began to fear
it will not see light of day
keep silent, watch your step
this is the new normal.
This Sunday morning 2000 families are facing deportation orders!
This is shared with Poets United Poetry Pantry.
Saturday, June 15, 2019
Death and Life
 |
| Death and Life - Gustav Klimt - 1916 - Wiki Paintings |
Death and life
happiness and strife
uncomfortable intimacy
lunacy perhaps
that's how it goes flows
from birth to death
nobody knows
when the reaper will call
no one can forestall
what will be as
the progression is clear dear
fear not for
what you fear today
is nothing
compared to
tomorrow
sorrow.
I am a fan of Gustav Klimt's paintings. This poem was written in response to Klimt's painting Death and Life. It is one that I wrote in 2013, but I went to a funeral today; and I was reminded of this poem. I am sharing it with Poets United Poetry Pantry.
Wednesday, June 5, 2019
HOPE
HOPE
that had a hole in her shell
right below the heart so
when one turned over the turtle
one could see the heart beat
and he named the turtle Hope
It has been seven months now
and Hope continues to thrive
once not much bigger than a quarter
now she fits in palm of Mike's hand
continues to grow and thrive
and her little heart beats on.
In these days of so much bad news,
fake news, I am thankful for Hope.
***
I think we all need to find ways of keeping hope.
How do YOU keep hope?
I wish I could include a photo of Hope(the turtle), but she is on Instagram,
and I cannot find a way to share. If you want to see her (the best way),
visit Aquamike23 & follow him. If you want to see some
of Hope's earlier photos / videos, scroll back a bit on his Instagram. Or check out this article:
or you can check this YouTube video, but I think it was taken
before Aqua Mike adopted her: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pOptCUfJnmA.
If I am feeling hopeless, I visit Hope, who keeps Hope alive.
Saturday, May 25, 2019
Rain
RAIN
Warm gentle shower
bathes garden with tenderness
soothes and restores
flowers bloom in joy
robins twitter search for worms
but
torrential deluge
pounds flowers to the ground
devastates and soaks
seedlings flood away
even the robins hide.
and
umbrellas dance on sidewalks
shoppers splash from cars
farmers delight as crop grows
museums are crowded
no one plays in the park
as
road construction stops
baseball games are cancelled
taxicabs dart through the city
teachers bemoan an indoor recess
firefighters of wildfires rejoice
on a day of rain.
This poem is for Poets United Poetry Pantry.
Warm gentle shower
bathes garden with tenderness
soothes and restores
flowers bloom in joy
robins twitter search for worms
but
torrential deluge
pounds flowers to the ground
devastates and soaks
seedlings flood away
even the robins hide.
and
umbrellas dance on sidewalks
shoppers splash from cars
farmers delight as crop grows
museums are crowded
no one plays in the park
as
road construction stops
baseball games are cancelled
taxicabs dart through the city
teachers bemoan an indoor recess
firefighters of wildfires rejoice
on a day of rain.
This poem is for Poets United Poetry Pantry.
Saturday, May 11, 2019
The Way It Is
The Way It Is
The way leaves transition from green to to brown
The way old dog rests longer on a summer day
The way hair grays and the wrinkles form
The way strawberries rot after a while
The way seasons pass faster than before
The way the river flows faster and faster
The way birthdays would rather be ignored
The way each day of summer is savored
The way one time to good-bye is final
The way the coyote sings a mournful song
The way wild turkeys wander out of view
The way one hardly notices change.
This is written for Poets United Poetry Pantry.
Saturday, May 4, 2019
Don't Worry!
 |
| Our Wonderful Israeli Guide who knew just EVERYTHING! |
Don't Worry!
Our Israeli guide said, "Don't worry. They are monitoring the situation." We were told that if there was a siren we would have 40 seconds to get to a safe place.
"And where is a safe place?" we asked.
"The interior of a building, for example. But most of the time the rockets do not get close to Tel Aviv. But one has to be prepared." He added, "And at the hotel, ask the desk clerk to show you where the safe spot is......so you know."
It seemed that Hamas was shooting off rockets. Most of the time they landed closer to Gaza, but occasionally something changed. A house had been destroyed somewhere close to Tel Aviv the previous night. The Israeli army (IDF) was retaliating. Our guide wanted to warn us. He hoped the situation would cool. Of course, Israel had an 'iron dome' which was supposed to protect them. It did...much of the time.
All of us on the bus were silent. And then someone asked, "How can people go about their lives when rockets are an ever-present danger?"
The guide answered that Israelis just go about their daily lives. (And indeed we witnessed that. Nothing changed. People went to work, to school, shopped as usual.) He said that Israelis go about their lives in the same way that Americans do being surrounded by the constant possibility of gun violence.
And so we went about life too, but in the back of my mind was always the thought of 40 seconds. I am home now, but still think about the 40 seconds. I wonder if it would be easier to escape a Hamas rocket than a crazy person in this country with a loaded gun.
Written for Prose Pantry #3: Phobias and Fears
The sound of sirens in Israel this morning - May 4 --- in case you want to know what some people live with. You can also see how protection by the 'iron dome' is supposed to work.
Friday, April 26, 2019
To Life
To Life
I find life hard sometimes
it often does not make sense
people are not always kind
nor am I, I must admit.
Things are not as perfect
as I would like them to be
and the flavors of ice cream
are not always what I'd choose
Things happen I do not like
there are no easy answers
and among the flowers that grow
there are also weeds.
I just keep moving on
pull out weeds when I can
enjoy flavors as they come
and try hard to be kind
I find life hard sometimes
it often does not make sense
yet I raise my glass and toast
L'Chaim, To Life.
This poem was written for this week's Poets United Poetry Pantry.
Friday, April 19, 2019
Each spring I listen for you
.jpg "By Dwight Sipler from Stow, MA, USA [CC-BY-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons")
Each spring I listen for you
for this time of rebirth so I know you are somewhere
in my garden perhaps hiding behind the arbor vitae
overseeing and tending to the coming to life as you always did
and sometimes when I stoop to tend plants in the greening earth
out of the corner of my eye I catch of glimpse of your smile
between budding branches and hear your whisper in the warm breeze.
I wrote the above poem about my mother in 2007 before I thought of blogging at all. And, in fact, it was this poem that inspired my blog title - In the Corner of My Eye. I began blogging in 2008. It seems like only yesterday..........
I am sharing it once again today for the Poetry Pantry.
Thursday, April 11, 2019
Stories
Stories
You share stories of your children
your grandchildren, your siblings,
your husband and his siblings.
last week's birthdays,
upcoming birthdays and
who shares birthdays with whom
happenings of early married life
for anything under the sun there is a story
often more than one
and I wonder if I am the only one
who wishes someone else might
have something to share
or if perhaps we could just have
a moment of simple and reflective
silence.
This poem is for Sunday's Poetry Pantry! We all know
someone like this, don't we?
Saturday, April 6, 2019
Autumn Ride
Autumn Ride
When he rode his bicycle down the street on a crisp October day his route took him high into the treetops from where he had a marvelous view. He found himself looking down at the same street where he was riding his bicycle through the orange-yellow fallen leaves. Viewing reflections the likes of which he’d never seen before.
What a delightful day for the boy, surrounded by the magnificence of nature above, then looking down at its beauty below. And as he pedaled his bicycle faster and faster, his mind worked faster and faster as well, and he contemplated all that autumn meant: The changing of seasons. The cycle of life. Varied colors of nature’s bounty. The rich beauty of the entire glorious world. Oh, if he could ride like this forever, breathe in the fresh crispness of all. Breathless, yet breathing deeply. Time seemed to stand still for him. Yet moved at an accelerated pace. Faster, ever faster. Then slow.
But then, in the blink of an eye, it changed. The boy woke up in a hospital bed, unable to move his casted, shattered leg. Pain stabbed each time he breathed. In and out. Sharp out, sharp in. He writhed. Strapped down. Unable to move. Broken ribs, collar bone, wrist. Drip, drip, drip went the pain killer. His eyes could not stay open.
The boy had been riding his bike, before being hit by an out-of-nowhere car. Then siren and flashing red light. Stretcher. Carried into an ambulance. He had felt every bump the ambulance went over before being rushed into emergency. Then a blur, an IV, until……nothing. Blissful pain-free nothing. Sleep. Drugged sleep. Until……
… Now here he was lying in bed, awake, looking down at that street where he was riding his bicycle through the orange and yellow fallen leaves. Alive, he smiled!
--------
This story was written for "Telling Tales with Magaly Guerrero." It has 313 words, including the title. It was to include 'magical realism,' which I think it does. It was inspired by a painting by Canadian artist Rob Gonsalves. I will leave the painting up only a couple days, wanted to show my inspiration.
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