Oct 28, 2014

Turn Left

Turn left or right?

this road is frozen
slippery and there's fog
like life never clear
enough to always choose 
right or left

sometimes shadowy figures 
appear blocking the way
stuff happens just happens 
it seems
out of the blue or gray

meanwhile we are moving forward always
no choice in this fog or no fog
we travel making slight corrections 
but always wanting to choose
landscapes coming and going

stop signs and dim lights
but always forward
maybe now a left turn
maybe not.

Jan 27, 2014


throw the critic to the wind
and paint
paint like a mad woman
paint like a sprite
paint with passion
paint with fear
paint the towers
the darkest secrets
paint the plains
and the tundra
paint spirals and flowers
and saints
paint the dark and unknown
paint the sacred and sublime
paint for yourself
paint with love
paint like a baby
paint like a crone
but above all
touch the surface
with your heart

Jan 16, 2014


moon, searing into the soul
illuminating the hidden path
challenging the weakened will
she who shines with boldness
daring us to reach to grow
no excuse no darkness
dreams stand up and be counted
she who enlightens

A wish...

Read " The Safety Pin Cafe" by Moihana Calizar



A wish...

I wish for the medicine to heal the sad and lonely, to soothe the minds that race and distort. I I wish for a salve to quiet the anxious and the sick and a tincture for the delusional and disquieted. I wish for a medicinal pouch to bring peace and serenity to those shaken and harmed and a secret blessing for those facing losses. I wish the Safety Pin Cafe would lead folks to a better place and heal their souls like the apple pie healed the faceless lady. the gypsy

Jan 2, 2014

This Age

she was a library
a jump drive
an old photo album

she remembered
meals from her youth
and her favorite boots

she dreamed of old Chevies
summer trips to NYC
her first pineapple

she could smell
the old lilacs and
cider freshly milled

she lives in the here
and now only rarely
falling into the past

she hopes to live to
be an old crone
hoarding the memories

Oct 27, 2013

The Sixties

The Sixties

she laughs as she tells the story,

little irish catholic girl,
drove west from Boston,

arrived in the Haight,
pink dress, pink shoes, pink purse,

hair curled just right,
from rollers at night,

friends pull up a mattress,
pass her a joint,

San Fran the city of love,
oh my goodness,

this is going to be,
quite a trip,

for kt with hoots of laughter



johnson brothers,
blue and white,
not flow blue,
not old,
not imported,
but in any case,
kept in the antique cabinet,
used for Easter ham,
and Thanksgiving bird,

imagine my surprise
when I saw
the real thing
all crisp and creamy
blue slightly off

many miles and
antique shops later
I still get a chill
when I come upon
some hidden
on the back shelf

blue and white



girl scout meeting,
wearing the uniform,
world's my oyster,
everything is green,
small town sounds,
long sidewalk route,
spring maples,
mist on the hills,
about supper time,
being twelve,
and feeling magical,

only time,
can change that

Oct 23, 2013

The dye pot

The Dye Pot

on the couch
on the hotseat
of my own choosing

yearning to live
leaving red hot drive
for slow motion

wanting intimacy
and stories
and joyful peaceful walks

needing to cry away
the past the legacies
the dictums

cast out a lifetime
of struggle and miseries
for grace and ease

needing to steep my self
in walnuts and euco leaves
stain my very soul

need to cover my self
and make silk dresses
from the same dye pot

it is time to stop and feel
stop and live
slow down and ramble

get lost in parking lots
talk to cows and
answer back my crows

it is time to peel off the armor
lay naked in leaves
feel the earth leach into my skin
it is definitely time for change

Oct 2, 2013

Tree Mother

Oh Tree Mother

Oh Tree Mother wrapping your arms around the birds and squirrels and frogs , please continue to support us with your life giving oxygen. You filter and clean our air and slow the winds and bind the soil and give us shelter. We thank you for your being. You are our family and when you are cut we feel the pain as we should. Please continue to whistle in the wind and sway with the breeze. We are healthy and joyful in your presence.

Sep 27, 2013

Crowmother Dance

I have been reading Meinrad Craighead,
Crow Mother and the Dog God and wrote this little piece inspired by her crow magic and much of my own.

Hidden away in the recesses of my own self is a wild ancient crone who has been gathering materials and messages for a grand dance. Within this woven wicker trunk are the symbols developed over the years, the masks worn for so many occasions, the sacred texts and songs of 7 decades. In the box also reside a cache of magic known only to me, cards, feathers, bags of potions, vessels, and bits and pieces of crow collections these include pretty paper, old candies, photographs, songs, silver rings and a poem or two.
The repository of magic and totems also has a crow drum, a gourd, an ipu, embroidery, and many glass items all sanctified and incensed ready for the day the dance commences. The trick of it all is to time it just right. The right night, the right moon, the right season, the right place and the right reason. When all is set and the stage and all the trappings and regalia are in order.. the beginning will be announced by the cry of crow. The wild dance of life, death, and the spirit will commence with bells, and drums, and lots of swirling purple and black. The dance will ease away the cover of the gardens and reveal an ancient stairway to the mother of us all. This will be repeated as I am called upon by the Crowmother.

Jul 22, 2013


Ashfield Lake

off to camp tomorrow
an art camp with grownups
remembering ashfield lake
muggy hot and wildly humid
bed rolls hitched with safety pins

list of duties posted on the fridge
Girl Scout songs and s'mores
canoe classes, fearful of water
hanging out at the store
ogling tough guys and a jukebox

eleven, skinny, and shy
hopelessly unaware of the big life
she would soon fall into
far away from the maple covered hills
and their seductive magic

Jul 12, 2013

Summer Magic

Summer Magic

dreamy pink and sleepy blue
calling all to the garden
sniff the mint
caress the basil
count the baby zukes
steal some raspberries
watch the bunny
measure the climbing purple beans
ah yes, summer in the Northwest
dreamy, short and magical

Jul 10, 2013

The Open Road

The Open Road

like a line to infinity
like the memory of a dream

stretching past the humdrum
entering the mystery of story

where does the road go?
what is possible now?

the white line calls out
beckoning the willing

seductive siren of tar
magician of time and space

Jul 6, 2013


Tree  c 2013 Joan Tucker


colors, lines, marks, scrapes
gouges, swirls, dots, bumps

burning, smoothing, removing, 
adding, layering, dividing

excited, delighted, transformed, 
surprised, enchanted, relieved
whew art

Somewhere Else

Somewhere Else

a glimpse, a peek, a slice
of life outside
the normal state of affairs

craving to be
somewhere else,

longing to travel
somewhere else,

hoping to feel
something else

wanting to imagine
something else

yearning  to create
something else

exploring this lust
for somewhere else

Jul 5, 2013

Running Away

Running Away

van all packed and prepped
little green tent loaded

longing for escape
windy beaches, hard sand

away from computers
phone calls,the news

only childlike exuberance
telling stories, humming tunes

some days need to flee
away away sad bad mad

let's gas her up and roll

Jun 28, 2013

Poinsettias in Paradise

Poinsettias in Paradise

growing wild, uninhibited
down the hillsides, as hedges
red waves triumphant

not crowded in green pots

pinched and hothoused
controlled decoration

May 6, 2013


flickers have returned
only in may they come
renewing their vows

new bathing beauties
taking daring aerials
old bird bath smiling

Jan 15, 2013

Year of the Snake

Year of the Snake

the snake starts in February
uncoiling her magic
in fits and spurts
sometimes deliberate 
often in dreamy reverie
complete in herself
beginning and end
shedding her old
layers as she lives

Oct 1, 2012



this cat was running wild
killing birds sleeping little
keeping the raccoons at bay

this cat now has a name
sleeps on my chair
refuses certain foods

this cat likes it indoors
with velour mice
and a rope scratching post

this cat's got culture
gave up the rat race
for the human race

Sep 11, 2012



my face
got a work over
out with the old
in with the new
sixty minutes rub a dub dub

my spirit
needs a scrub,
exfoliated, steamed
freed from blemishes
maybe it too would glow

Jul 6, 2012

Summer Berries

Summer Berries

raspberries crushed have a scent
eliciting memories unbeckoned
reaching for the plumpest
unaware of the scratches
seeking the sublime in art and life
we satisfy our lusts seasonally
filling our bowl to the rim
add a little milk
the glory of the
squish and devine taste
replace the failures in other realms
summer has arrived

May 24, 2012

Our Circus

Chagall courtesy Magpie Tales
Our Circus

laughing and falling from grace
we clown through life
doing trapeze acts
juggling our emotions 
walking a tightrope
riding bareback
subduing the lions
getting a cheap laugh
we pray to the ringmaster
hope for good audiences
a chance to do it all again.

May 16, 2012

Love is

Love is

love is like
making cupcakes late at night for your son's class
rubbing medication on the guinea pig's mange
stepping into the scary bar to rescue a lost friend
wiping up after the rescued cat
watching your daughter drive away in your only new car
letting your loved one not see your sadness
sending flowers to a parent who never loved you best
ignoring the hateful politics of your friend's husband
planting gardens in places you know you will leave

love is like letting you just be
a rainbow

I, I, I

I, I, I

I will meditate
I will follow zen
I will retreat
I will pray
I will follow my bliss
I will be my inner child
I will go with the river

an awful lot of I's

on the journey to nirvana


photo by Joan Tucker


she was cranky and mean
she was drunk and secretive
she was victim and tyrant
she had no past or future
she had a daughter
she had no family
she just died




history and folklore beckon
trying to explain things
to sort out the mysteries
find the cultural meanings
what where they singing
how to cook those
why the festival
no one explained
languages were theirs
we were to mind read
now saddened
by so much loss
need to hear it all again
with new ears
with new urgency
what about those rivers

Dnieper and Vistula

May 14, 2012

Paul G in Seattle

Paul Gauguin via Magpie Tales

Paul G

currently paul is hanging out
in Seattle with the totems
and asian lions

people crowd around 
don't seem to get it
these bright paintings

seems like long ago
girls were either covered up
or butt naked

who was this dude
maybe he should have 
stayed in France

clubs and oars 
from the Marchesas
garner closer attention

they say that painting 
is worth one million

I like that one