a wild patience

1983

2012-01-24T11:48:00.001-08:00

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice --
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do --
determined to save
the only life you could save.

- Mary Oliver

Ode to Leonard

2012-01-10T08:44:00.000-08:00

leonard's voice
crawls down my spine
like a deep growl
joyful despairing
paradox
poetry like gravel
on an old dirt road
or a city alley
suzanne
by the river

hallelujah

Cold breaths

2012-01-07T09:57:00.000-08:00

cold icy breaths

truth serum

sand shifting

moody words

no calming breezes

to ebb the flow of

feelings unfettered

raw ingredients remain

Elasticity of time

2012-01-07T09:54:00.000-08:00

elasticity of time

photos in courtyards

in europe with a tiny waist

three little happy bird faces

can smell the sea in one

can hear the bells in another

can let go of the sad undertones

celebrate the pureness of memories

feel them again and again

Happy New Year 2011

2012-01-01T18:19:00.001-08:00

http://www.burningtheclocks.co.uk/about-clocks

2011-12-08T07:31:00.000-08:00

from Magpie Tales

grateful for the bread
eases the gnawing
in my gut

hungry for food
hungry for assurances
hungry for salvation

don't care if this is
worse or better than '29
it is bad enough for me

Gratitude

2011-11-27T13:54:00.000-08:00

flickering memories
of not having
of being in pain

old photos
of younger years
of absent family

cherished ornaments
of kindergarten dough
of ancient travels

stained recipes
for gingerbread
for wassail

ringing bells
to remember
to be grateful

Occupy

2011-11-19T11:02:00.000-08:00

occupy the minds of the politicians
occupy the imaginations of the ceo's
occupy the fingers of the wheeler dealers
occupy the speech of the brokers
occupy the hearts of the bankers
occupy the heads of the deal makers
occupy the souls of the oppressors
occupy the stomachs of the rich
occupy the eyes of the mean
occupy the character of the police

and then occupy their spirit and make the change happen

Light a Lantern

2011-11-16T06:50:00.001-08:00

light a lantern
for the lost
for the wanderer
for the seeker
for the submerged

light a lantern
for your soul
for your kin
for your spirit
for your muse

light a lantern
for remembrance
for strength
for courage
for hope

light a lantern

to see...

2011-11-02T09:47:00.000-07:00

Deep roots are patient, they wait for our ripening; they lay hidden and strong unaffected by our daliance and lack of interest. As we float amongst the leaves -all playfully bright and fluttering songs to us, the deep roots sing with a nurturing love knowingly their time will come.

We dance, play and revel in the upper realms living our story and playing out our destiny and the deep roots all knowing and grounded in their quiet patch of earth simply sigh knowing that after the spring of green has passed and the glory of autumn has ended, we will come back to them as all things do to the dark and deep and forever roots.

Door

2011-10-28T06:58:00.000-07:00

halloween is in the air
rusty door
that goes nowhere
sometimes life
sets out to prove
that it is scary
just to move

Seeking

2011-08-29T07:50:00.000-07:00

smoke
smoke and mirrors
distortion
elusive

reaching out into the haze
looking for truth and soul
only touching granite
hard and unyielding

sky
navy and vast
clarity
accessible

sending wishes to the stars
looking for answers
open to answers
soft and receptive

The Attic

2011-08-09T13:34:00.000-07:00

If I had an attic I would put a mattress on one side with a large flashlight and a blanket for a hiding place. I would collect old stamp books from everyone's childhoods and pile them up on an old chest of drawers. I would hang old evening gowns from the rafters and dangle long scarves from them. I would tuck lavender into envelopes and hide them in the attic's darkest recesses. I would put a whole set of vintage Nancy Drew on an old table and arrange various decks of tarot cards nearby. I would pile sheet music from the 40's and 50's on a piano bench. I would put a teddy bear in an old child's rocker. I would fill a trunk with maps of every kind.and lastly I would lock a stack of love letters in a wooden box and hide the key.

Joan Tucker

http://awildpatience.blogspot.com

Serious?

2011-07-29T07:23:00.000-07:00

selling bikes with boobs
the french did it with class
the ad men not so much
still making money
from some woman's beauty

Verona 2011

2011-07-19T21:11:00.000-07:00

tangled in white linen sheets
with sunlight drawing slats
on the golden walls
what dreams does she conjure
what places does she visit
this young woman
adventurous and valiant

no modern day Juliet

Like a circle in a spiral....

2011-06-20T06:25:00.000-07:00

from Magpie Tales

like a whirling dervish
life spins
like a fast running stream
time passes
like a carousel
joy circles
like a blink of an eye
moments are lost
like lightning
love strikes
like denim
images fade
like chalk on a sidewalk
life passes
only we can choose to remember

Briny Metaphors

2011-06-13T17:14:00.000-07:00

photo from Magpie Tales

spun out of the sea
it reminds us
of summer
of treasures
of youth
of cycles
of time

hard and soft
delicate and sturdy
endless briny metaphors

Optical Hardware

2011-06-08T14:31:00.000-07:00

photo from Magpie Tales

sitting all alone staring up at the cosmos

without a point of view

hardly encourages deep thoughts

without my socket I am lost

left to stare and stare

optically competent

yet needing insight and direction

without my twin and the muse

I am only hardware

Anything but This

2011-06-01T10:29:00.000-07:00


from Magpie Tales

she longed to flee
from the silly lute player
the pompous men
her limitations
she dreamed of muddy legs
grand vistas and the sea

running wild and naked
in dark endless forests
filled with beasts

anything but this

Back from Italy

2011-05-22T08:42:00.001-07:00

returned from Italy, no poems today
my heart is full of love and beauty
reflections on ancient surfaces
hustle and bustle, rows of Vespas
gelato piled high, leather shops
ancient walls, old vineyards
narrow alleys, many rooms with a view
beach promenade,
terrace views forever
Michelangelo, Juliet, Galileo,
giants of imagination and love
strung together through the ages

Oh those lips

2011-03-28T18:05:00.000-07:00

Magpie Tales Prompt

a whole lot of whoop de do

over a little bit of zippity zip

or zippity lip?

Dancing Particles

2011-03-01T07:41:00.000-08:00

it is easy to find fault in other humans, harder to find their core;
easy to criticize and be clever, harder to have compassion;
easy to be smart and hip, harder to be real;
easy to dismiss the object of our fear, harder to understand differences;
mockery is easier, love is harder.
but love trumps hate every time.

we are all just dancing particles.

On the Road Again 2011

2011-01-20T12:04:00.000-08:00

road trip down the coast
worries blown away
long before Gold Beach
hopes and dreams
launched in Marin County
youth restored in Pismo Beach
dreamy nirvana in Palm Springs
back to the earth in Tonopah
ancient merchant in Tucson

Willie Nelson eat your heart out..

The Piano

2011-01-13T10:29:00.000-08:00


Magpie Tales

front foyer
always closed off
colored leaded window
piano stacked with books, canning jars
newspapers, seed catalogs
and sheet music
a five year old sitting there
propped on stool all straight and professional
hammering on those keys
studying the marks on the yellowed page

dreams are made of this

Connecticut River Valley

2011-01-07T17:40:00.000-08:00

resiny scent of tobacco
onions drying in piles on silty soil
sweat mixed with spilled lemonade
drunk from a jug
flowing with the Connecticut
voices, english, polish, ukrainian
scratches from the long wooden slats
up and down the rows
up and down the rows
everybody worked
men, women, old , young
even
relatives from New York City

Ms Marple

2011-01-06T09:05:00.000-08:00

squishing clay and listening to Ms Marple

wishing I were more malleable
is it necessary to always be prepared
could one simply be squishy
being a girl scout is such a drag
wondering about spontaneity
making little porcelain bells
Poirot is next

Florence

2010-12-30T07:21:00.000-08:00

magpie tales

they carry the memories
the scent of Florence
arthritic fingers
ease into elegance
youth is restored
dreaming of via guicciardini

Burning the Clocks for Solstice

2010-12-20T08:20:00.000-08:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UTb7JoLlJRM&feature=related

The Cathedral

2010-12-15T08:41:00.000-08:00

Magpie Tales-Tess Kincaid

cold, stone cold

doors large enough

for horses and carriages

pray in your coach option
for the aristocracy

the scent of beeswax

smoldering prayers

woolen coats, mittens

for the common folk
sore knees, frozen noses

organ sounds and crystal voices

piercing the nave
images in glass
reminding the sinners
of the possibilities

Hell Racers

2010-12-10T08:51:00.000-08:00

from Magpie Tales

cows had carved out the paths

in summer we picked violets there

in winter it was glazed with ice

treacherous on the curves

too close to the partially frozen pond

the sledding course was dangerous

passing for little girls

bundled in our pastel snowsuits

we were hell racers

screaming as we flew

trudging back up again and again

until near dark

mom's call to dinner

ruined it

Thanks to Rima Staines from the hermitage blog for this link..

2010-11-18T11:20:00.000-08:00

Ms Eleven

2010-11-17T12:57:00.000-08:00

Magpie Tales

she was an eleven
in every way
idealistic and visionary

better than ten
the light bearer
and peacemaker

the master number
why then
was she so lost

she longed to be a three
or a five or even a seven
longing for conflict
and imperfection.

The Snoop

2010-11-14T09:57:00.000-08:00

Magpie Tales

not from Penny's or the 5 and dime

this was foreign stuff

auntie left in on the bed

glamorous as heck

draped from my neck

some strange guy on the pendant

auntie has been around my father says

she wears capes and has a passport

now to look in her suitcases

Chickens in Paradise

2010-11-05T10:24:00.000-07:00

awake in the tropics
local rooster singing
plumeria and ginger
swaddle the cottage
a swag of bananas
decorates the doorway
geckos scurry at morning light
wild herd of chickens
dash through the garden
hundreds of translucent bugs
stuck to the ceiling

another view of paradise.

Village Halloween

2010-10-31T08:41:00.000-07:00

country halloween
bundled head to toe
cider and maple leaf air
crunchy paths
long unlit country roads
sparse farm houses
candy in paper sack
no fears of poison
parading around
village common- then
home to counting the loot

Becoming

2010-10-20T07:55:00.000-07:00

Magpie Tales

hand sliding down hip

slow recognition of shape

sneaking glances in mirror

what was this

these curves

the flat places had filled out

there were little gullies

round tussocks

what did a girl do

with all of this?

Hiding

2010-10-19T09:19:00.000-07:00

for Magpie Tales

in the dark
it's easy to dream
easy to roll into a ball
and spin gossamer blindfolds
across your eyes

nothing can get you in here
you nestle with closed suitcases
and old cigar boxes
a decaying uniform
serves as blanket

thumps and creaks interrupt
the sensation of safety
old tunes weave in and out
like background music
remembering

yet the light beckons
bringing messages of possibilities
new trails, new monsters
maybe a new song or two
you ever so slowly venture out

Truth Drug

2010-10-19T07:59:00.000-07:00

trying to find some honesty
searching for a truth drug
poking into hidden corners
uncovering some secrets
opening boxes of moldy letters
reading between the lines
peering at the photos

all the secrets, lies and mysteries
are mine.

The Sax Player

2010-10-19T07:52:00.000-07:00

in childhood, I remember
golden sax between his knees
round glasses perched on his nose
he wailed me a tune
all deep and mysterious
now he's gone
no trace of the saxophone
no trace of him
only a letter

will the music conjure him up?

Abundance

2010-09-02T06:18:00.000-07:00

more orange than one can bear
reflections sharp and clear
crisp sounds that lure you
and the smell- toasty and dry
sometimes a pinky green
that only god could paint
the views stop you cold
breathing stops
in valleys and hilltops
white churches punctuate
the color lights the senses
more beauty than can be imagined

proof of abundance

Omen

2010-09-01T20:28:00.000-07:00

she gave me the eye
piercing, direct, challenging
the wind whistled
it felt suddenly colder
what part of the exchange
was in my head
was she menacing
all around leaves flew in litttle
whirlwinds- magic or omen
does one ever know?

The Silk

2010-08-05T08:43:00.000-07:00

gold threads held tightly in rigid rows
by deep blue silk soldiers
shimmering bamboo
was the sound emitted
stiff and tough
though wholly elegant
waiting for a muse
to stitch it into something
that can travel

Jasper

2010-08-05T08:30:00.000-07:00

jasper johns

it reminded me of old calligraphy
of maps roughly drawn
there was a dingy veil over it

obscuring some truth
my shoulders ached as I stared
just paint and canvas
no big deal anyone could do it
welling up big tears and a mild shaking
art as I know it

These Dogs

2010-08-04T09:19:00.000-07:00

photo by e hudyma 2010

these dogs don't care about
recessions
bailouts
whole foods
arms control
triglyceride levels
pullout from iraq
social security
these dogs just care about
adoring you
walking over the bridge
running up the path
climbing that hill
riding in the car
water in the creek

these dogs got their priorities straight

for em

Ah

2010-08-04T08:57:00.000-07:00

evidence of the holiness of things
proof that beauty exists
treatise on the natural world
notes from the dreamstate
report on the state of peace
study on black and white
model of loveliness
image of purity
the peony

2010-08-04T08:36:00.000-07:00

magpie tales

eyeball, breast, lock
what are you?

memories are sorting
images are clearing
the story is forming
a huge wooden door
rough and weathered
entry to a garden
roses spilling over the wall
honeysuckle breathing
apothecary scents
lilies seeking sex
and the music
low tones of bees
high notes of birds
the green carpet
speckled with clover
in a darkened corner
a cool stone bench

babylon, shangrila
for me-
a secret garden

Honolulu 1965

2010-07-01T09:19:00.000-07:00

the pink hotel was still the queen
the hills looked like a christmas tree
the palms shimmered and the sticky scent of
plumeria lingered on the breeze

the new englander danced
barefoot on the sands and streets

the merchants offered cups of noodles
pineapple slices, leis and garish shirts
next to the club where don ho
slack key and hulu was king

mai tais and teriyaki
tropical dreams

and in the back streets
people who had came from everywhere
lit the bundles of firecrackers
tied to every pole

noise and smoke
for her-initiation

Relics

2010-06-25T07:26:00.000-07:00

resting on the ceramic counter

it just lay there cast aside

for me, evidence of another

once present now gone

with the empty aspirin bottle

and a lone dirty sock

relics of a relationship

Soiled Pelican

2010-06-03T17:13:00.000-07:00

stoic under layers of oil
pelican parent
facing the inevitable

as we watch
we consider
our connections
our responsibilities

every trip in the car
every plastic bottle
petroleum everywhere

every pelican
every hermit crab
every bit of clean water
soiled forever

now is too late
but we still need to act

Berlin Market

2010-05-24T08:18:00.000-07:00

she wove her way
through the white topped stalls
touching an old leather bound book
laughing at three monkeys cavorting
in a wind up toy
she bought a wooden puppet
carved in some far off village

she crunched on roasted nuts
sat on a bench for a while
watching the leaves falling in waves
chuckled at an old accordion minstrel
stopping here and there
she saw some Soviet era hats
a crisp wind started up from the river

she paused to chat with some
young backpackers
fresh from the Pergamon
and then she spotted
the vendor from Kreuzberg,
with the brass birds, monkeys
and the wonderful fish

The Crones

2010-05-07T13:26:00.000-07:00

Magpie Tales

one had an evil eye
one had a third eye
one was always vigilant
one was just plain scary

the old crones of my childhood
knew when someone died
knew about devils in the closet
and bad blood and bad wind

they kept Mary enshrined in the bedroom
and Jesus over the stove
I still connect his crown of thorns
with great Polish food

McBeth would have loved them

More Think Pink

2010-05-06T13:30:00.000-07:00

Making Pink

Fresh picked strawberries rubbed on white linen with little fingers
She says, but Mom I am just making pink!

Think Pink

2010-05-06T07:11:00.000-07:00

Theme Thursday

she laughs as she tells the story

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

Grits

2010-05-04T08:09:00.000-07:00

It was the time of
Freedom Riders and lynchings
Selma and civil rights
lunch counters and bus strikes

It was my journey to
Georgia in a Karman Ghia
baby on board
a bag of fruit and 25 dollars

It was a postcard of
sleepy towns
whites only water fountains
cabins in the piney woods

It was kindness from
long haul truckers
small town waitresses
breakfasts of bacon and grits

for this New England girl
a strange new world...

1965

2010-04-26T18:45:00.000-07:00

1965

naval station san diego

long lines of young men

drafted into service

going to Chu Lai

stepping my way
through the long green line
of duffel bags
I sensed their fear
and dread

dinner at officers'' club
returning to the ship
two children in tow
the troops seemed surreal
in the dark

above deck
music and drinking

formal officers' mess
below deck
crowded conditions

for me
tending to
lots of throwing up
a dog in a crate
and the unknown

what waited in Hawaii
where would it all end
how many of those boys
would make it
out of the jungle

even now -sorrow

Cinderella

2010-04-19T22:15:00.000-07:00

ten o' clock
it was over at twelve
nights like this were not for a girl like her
white chiffon and little flat slippers
a corsage of gardenias right on her wrist bone

his crew cut was perfect and he smiled like
a guy all cleaned up should
his chevy had all the cool stuff
the black and white dice
leathery seats to match

nothing about this would last
tomorrow would be back in the kitchen
caring for her sisters
trying to avoid the yelling

but tonight "a white sports coat and a pink carnation"
and the stuff of teenage dreams

Ladies Who Lunch

2010-04-14T16:12:00.000-07:00

http://www.themethursday.blogspot.com/

ladies who lunch
no hats big hearts
laments and laughter

little scars big scares

women who perspire

women who inspire

ladies who launch

antipasto platter

no worries

Arrowheads

2010-04-05T08:33:00.000-07:00

anthropologists study

the Pocumtucks * of the Connecticut

living near the Bloody Brook

we farmed tobacco and cucumbers

on their old encampments

silty talc like soil laced with
pottery shards and arrowheads
we treated them like marbles
no true sense of worth

no one told us about these ancients
we had our own troubles
we were spirit children
of the river
with our ancient finds

* " the Pocumtucks dwelt in the middle Connecticut River Valley near today's Deerfield, Massachusetts." Bain, Manring, Mathrews

Priceless

2010-04-04T16:41:00.000-07:00

grandmother she says
I need to talk to you.

breathless, intense
deep sighs, words spilling out
horses and art
music and history
Paris and pizza
fourteen and ageless
potential and growth

for me
like a jewel box
opened
gems falling out
sparking and precious

her gift to me
priceless

for Matilda 2010

Celebrate

2010-04-04T08:47:00.000-07:00

Pema says

eat the strawberry
look at the flower
face the tiger
celebrate the sun
easier said than done
my demons
nip at my heels
as I run
surrounded by
strawberries, flowers
tigers
and the sun

for Pema Chodron

Sound of Justice

2010-04-04T08:39:00.000-07:00

http://themethursday.blogspot.com/

hollow sounds
those peals for freedom
lobbies pork payoffs
the two percent
in charge
the rest scrapping by
for a voice
for a home
for dinner
always hoping this bell
will ring for justice

My Treasure

2010-04-01T14:46:00.000-07:00

everyone was running
from the Russians
from the Germans
from the bombing
mother said go and I did
with my treasure
sewn in my wool jacket
shivering in ditches
under the moon
I kept going
to where I did not know
a few coins in my pocket
a bag of dry bread
some shriveled carrots
finally days, weeks later
a large man pulled me out
from under the bridge
handed me a chocolate bar
smiled and said
the Americans are here

always
my enameled egg
on the mantle
reminds me of chocolate
and kindness

dedicated to Frau Groelich and her story

This Life

2010-04-01T14:44:00.000-07:00

this life

the sound of breathing
the fury of anger
the joy of belonging
the terror of waiting
the comfort of hugging
the beauty of nature
the sweetness of babies
the cry of the owl

the beat of the drum
the mystery of travel
the fear of disease
the triumph of spirit

to be alive
to be part of
this magic

Fork in the Road

2010-03-29T21:32:00.000-07:00

she planned
she made lists
she watched the weather
she read her cards
she threw the runes
she read her chart
she checked Google Earth
she called her broker
she made a will

she alerted the neighbors

and after it all -
the planning
the lists
the research
the preparation

she still encountered a fork in the road

Daffodil

2010-03-29T09:39:00.000-07:00

http://www.magpietales.blogspot.com/

daring little bud

smothered with snow

buffeted by winds

stepped on near the footpath

persevere, persevere

it murmurs

at last a cold bright sun

go for it

jump out there

stand tall

Spring

2010-03-24T13:57:00.000-07:00

Spring by A. Mucha

Like champagne uncorked
Like stones skipped on still water
Like baby's first gasp of air
Like the chick's head emerging
Like the pink glow of dawn
Like the orchestra warming up
Like the smell of new crayons
Like the fern unfurling
Like nothing else

Spring has sprung!

She who...

2010-03-24T13:27:00.000-07:00

needed: new friend

who has cooked at least 30 turkeys
who has washed cloth diapers
who remembers Elvis's TV debut
who knows what no money means
who has stolen a pineapple from the field
who has changed sizes at least five times
who counts their chicks no matter how old
who cries for those in nursing homes
who worries about her own old age
who has had at least three hair colors
who weeps at figure skating
who longs for Tuscany
and who is willing to still dream

purpose: endless laughter and conversation

Faces

2010-03-23T15:16:00.000-07:00

face book
book of faces
losing face
facing off
facedown
options
settings
blocked faces
fan pages
pages of fans
lists of friends
no one talking
about anything real

social networking?

American Quality

2010-03-21T15:07:00.000-07:00

http://www.magpietales.blogspot.com/

she had

Polish blond hair,

Ukrainian cheekbones

the nose of invaders to the steppes

an accent out of Ellis Island

a cuisine of peasant fare

the skill of tatting and embroidery

the work ethic of immigrants

the storytelling of the uprooted

the songs of the balalaika

the memories of church festivals

and the Madonna

she kept some treasures, she discarded others

she melded the rest into

American Quality

If I were...

2010-03-21T10:57:00.000-07:00

If I were a month I’d be May
If I were a day I’d be Saturday
If I were a time of day I’d be noon
If I were a planet I’d be Venus
If I were a sea animal I’d be an otter
If I were a direction I’d be west
If I were a piece of furniture I’d be a table
If I were a liquid I’d be chicken soup

If I were a gem stone I’d be an emerald
If I were a tree I’d be a maple
If I were a tool I’d be a hammer
If I were a flower I’d be a lady slipper
If I were an element of weather I’d be a spring rain
If I were a musical instrument I’d be an oboe
If I were a color I'd be purple
If I were an emotion I’d be joyful
If I were a fruit I’d be an apple
If I were a sound I’d be a baby's laugh
If I were an element I'd be earth
If I were a car I’d be a Beemer
If I were a food I’d be mashed potatoes
If I were a place I’d be Western Massachusetts

If I were a material I'd be Thai silk
If I were a taste I’d be salty
If I were a scent I’d be gardenia
If I were a body part I’d be eyes
If I were a song I’d be the blues.
If I were a bird I'd be a crow
If I were a gift I'd be a book
If I were a city I'd be in Bavaria
If I were a door I'd always be open
If I were a pair of shoes I’d be flip flops

If I were a poem I would be free verse

And what would you be?

Self Worth

2010-03-13T12:27:00.000-08:00

www.lisisoft.com/.../292spring_600.jpg

reflecting
on years of living large

leaving that ham
on the young couple's doorstep

writing an affirmation
and tying it to a tree in Sequim

trying that spin on ice
breaking my knuckle

walking in wet snow
on the cobblestones of old Augsburg

easter baskets for the kinder
German fields with real bunnies

skiing off that glacier peak
with my fear of heights

near running down that Alaskan mountain
following Lana's footsteps

eating watermelon for dinner
in a crappy trailer park

receiving that check
with no strings to finish graduate school

watching film premier at Toronto
gut wrenching Mother's pride

my life has proven me worthy
of magic, of passion, of love

how else to measure one's life?

That old woman's hand

2010-03-13T10:49:00.000-08:00

Willow's Magpie Thursdays

I catch myself
staring at this strange claw
bumpy and curled
whose hand is this
when did this happen
there's the broken knuckle
from ice skating
and that scar from an old burn

nails that never get long
dirt from the garden
veins protruding
clay dried in creases

this hand surely must
belong to some old woman

Turquoise

2010-03-10T08:33:00.000-08:00

Your skin can feel it from the air
each pore gets itchy
knowing soon
it will be warm and wet
something about
that sparkling water
maybe magic Atlantis
or maybe just pure pleasure

how fast the dull gray
is replaced with
turquoise

for CJ and P 2010

Twenty Six Years and Counting

2010-03-03T08:49:00.000-08:00

two ole crows
caw caw
picking up the scraps
living large
taking care
keeping watch
caw caw
doing together
one day at time
no wedding
no contracts
just love and trust

ah

to Lana on 26 years

March Blossoming Plums

2010-02-28T14:52:00.000-08:00

pink plum blossoms
calling out Spring
come on out
the weather's fine
let's practice our dancing
for May Day
we will have garlands
and maypoles
and pretty girls

where's Will when you need him?

Monkeyshines

2010-02-25T16:50:00.000-08:00

poor monkey
pushed out
no reservations
development
run rampant
my raccoons
robyn's monkeys
two continents apart
shrinking habitat

mother earth is worried

Big Wheel

2010-02-23T08:09:00.000-08:00

big wheel
keeps on turning
our prayers
multiplying
we- it seems
only spokes
on a cosmic wheel

rolling rolling

Old Fool

2010-02-18T07:26:00.000-08:00

http://www.magpietales.blogspot.com/
This is Willow's theme Event

cold cold
damp wood
stone walls
romance shattered
only regrets
too old to know better
but when romance calls
every old fool lights up

Someone Else

2010-02-10T16:29:00.000-08:00

http://www.magpietales.blogspot.com/

log walls
chinked with gaps
wind whistling
snow piled up
to the tiny windows
quilts draped over knees
children huddled by the fire
playing fort under their
mountain of blankets
hot cider simmering
a few biscuits
venison stew had been supper
little to remind her of home
just the silver
the evidence that
she had been someone else

Nowhere

2010-02-07T16:05:00.000-08:00

http://artpropelled.blogspot.com/

little bits of clay
adhered to small blocks
all being washed by the sea
in a place called nowhere
seen by people everywhere
all thanks to a post
on a blog
by an artist
called robyn
magic

Swirling

2010-02-02T10:31:00.000-08:00

Free thoughts
swirling
dancing
colliding
years of facts
conclusions
beliefs
suddenly
murky
mysterious
unclear
so who what where am I?

just that dancing particle?

Crow Friend

2010-01-25T22:59:00.000-08:00

Hey crow hey crow
what ya goin do
when they come for you

you actin like a tough dude
but I know better
you just shared my mc muffin

Waiting for Spring

2010-01-25T22:19:00.000-08:00

Swans and Haiti

2010-01-16T09:13:00.000-08:00

giant white wings
angels in the valley
everywhere white clusters
of geese and swans

same planet
in Haiti misery and death
in Skagit nature's glory

no sense no order
gusty winds blowing
confusion and helplessness
giving over

Haiti

2010-01-14T09:06:00.000-08:00

Such complete unbearable suffering added to decades of pain and grief; Haiti's people need our prayers and our help. It is hard to carry on when one knows that such death and destruction is
happening not so far away. Our world is pretty small and we are all a heartbeat away from the ravages of nature, war, and hunger. May the aid being sent help in to some degree their suffering.

Resolutions?

2010-01-03T21:19:00.001-08:00

into the new-
new year new attitude
unsteadily lurching into the next
wondering if I can recreate
myself anew

that old trick
used brazenly many times
new year new girl
new journal pages
new lists on the fridge
new underwear from Macy's
newly sharpened pencils
new health foods

only questions are
where does the old me go
what happens to
the old attitudes
the over worked dreams
the unfinished projects
the socks with no mates
the clothes that don't fit

where do I store the old me
while I conjure up a new version?
and what if I need the old me again?

Winster Solstice

2009-12-21T21:08:00.000-08:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l7Op3Sz3lPM&feature=related

Light a candle
add wood to the fire
pour a cup of cider
bang the drum
watch the bonfires
count your blessings
embrace the darkest of nights
and "burn the clocks"

welcome the light

Yup the nose knows!!!

2009-12-13T16:06:00.000-08:00

Snow; pretty snow;not too much but a treat anyways...

Smell of Snow

2009-12-09T09:01:00.000-08:00

the kids say my nose knows

I can smell snow
in Alaska my sinuses ached
in Germany the migraines would come
in Hawaii I waited endlessly
in Washington I smell it coming
no Kiro weather reports
are more accurate
dry air shifting
getting moister
then the big wet flakes

and the cameras come out...yay

Greenman

2009-11-28T07:37:00.000-08:00

our greenman stands guard
over the garden
season in season out
watching life
witnessing new growth
recording bee hums
counting the daffs
birds shit on him
his skin rusts
nothing phases him
he just stands and waits

I could learn from him

Thanksgiving 09

2009-11-26T07:33:00.000-08:00

waiting for the balloons
in Herald Square
stuffing the turkey
wiping down the counters
listening for memories

over the river and thru the woods
I am that place now
tried a new chutney
I already know
they will hate it.

Detachment

2009-11-22T08:39:00.000-08:00

photo by betterlivingwithherbs...

dreaming about detachment

armed with layers of connections
duties, responsibilities, shoulds
fully weighed down

wondering what detaching unleashes
naked of the chains, what follows

would one float away like a
freefloating dream?

like dandelion fluff

Crow Woman revisted

2009-11-09T09:02:00.000-08:00

my crows follow me everywhere

nagging, egging me on, taunting

caw caw, pay attention

we are the keepers of the sacred law

laughing amongst themselves.. little jokes

hopping to internal street beats

chewing on gum wrappers and carrion

charmers, old as time

November

2009-11-07T16:34:00.000-08:00

only a few yellow leaves hang on
deck covered with crimson
webs span all the doors
spider girls spinning like mad
fairy lights hung in all the corners
cider simmers with cinnamon
searching for yam recipes
checked out cheap flights to Mexico

Must be November in Washington

Coping

2009-11-07T13:40:00.000-08:00

Edvard Munch. Anxiety, 1894. Munch Museum, Oslo

investigate using more whole grains
check election results
get celica to the shop
call my senator
worry about health care bill
research Green River flooding
create something in studio
find new sources of protein
cry over over Ft Hood shootings

practice serenity
be transcendent?

Tea

2009-11-05T11:27:00.000-08:00

Tea cups in hand
we lean in towards each other

The stories are eagerly waiting
they need to come out

Such joy at connecting
yet always a risk-never easy

Ah yes common ground
we are not alone

Ah yes women survive
even thrive

The stories are indeed
all that we have.

Into the New . what next?

2009-09-29T14:55:00.000-07:00

the new scary gestalt

seeing the whole shebang

praying for skills to manifest

visions so clear I can touch them

muse calling

come and jump into the clay

wondering how I ended up here

red gems and old glass

bronze vessels and textiles

all intertwining

making jewelry,

making talismans

making amulets

making tools for shamans

who ever dreamed

of this

Late Bloomers

2009-08-30T08:43:00.000-07:00

second wave of honeysuckle

wafting across walkway

late summer shadows

first glimpses of fall

ripe tomatoes

white phlox

late casa blancas

squirrels ramping up

for annual oak frenzy

red leaves at top of maples

me walking- finally

striding into fall

For Ted 8/24/2009

2009-08-26T14:24:00.000-07:00

ABC photo

the common good

commonweal

looking out for others

paying a living wage

stepping out from privilege

taking risks

speaking to power

living with his own demons

and doing it all with

power and passion

and that Irish laugh

this man will be missed!

Cle Elum

2009-08-25T08:23:00.000-07:00

http://www.pnwadventures.com/tag/cle-elum/

Darkest blue night sky

songs drift from the river

air creeps in -crisp and full of flavor

snuggled cocoon-like

occasional dog barking

or is it coyote?

pine needles falling like rain

cones knocked down

like missiles by zealous squirrels

ah, Cle Elum

great place for good dreams