06 Friday Jul 2018
The swallow dip of joy,
swift arc and cut through bright sky,
has been on lengthy migration
to lands unnamed.
Yet the time allotted here, however long,
confined in concrete, noise, requirement and excess
may finally break me of this place.
What follows out
of the daily abrasions of adjusting
while not giving everything and nothing away
may open space enough for that swallow
to return truly
home.
27 Sunday May 2018
Dancer
unable to dance,
Writer
without words,
Climber
minus a mountain,
What now?
Not grasping for known
while Unknown is your becoming
means finding,
and learning
a whole new way to move.
Wiggle a little,
court the formless
in this precious release
of who you believe yourself
to be.
19 Saturday May 2018
Not until the attentive itch
do they exchange glances to mean
It’s Time.
And off we pile into the car, heading deep
into night and whatever flight waiting
with breath, rolling, in the wings.
Winding round and up and up and round
through dark and sensation
into rolled down window sweetness of valley grass and oak,
Stumbling, graceful, grit of dirt road scuffing,
spinning under 2 a.m. sky and flopping across hillsides,
the stars, sharp and grabbable,
become a spiral
spiral
spiral
as alive to be tucked in a pocket,
as hover, massive and in reach, directly overhead,
as rest in mind twenty-five years on.
15 Tuesday May 2018
A kitten knocks at the door.
In truth, a word behaving like a kitten,
soft, sweet, riled
from chasing a baby squirrel along the avenue.
Baby tore across the asphalt, tail barking,
no visible sign of what gave chase.
Course, words are like that,
and now one has followed me home.
A fur-lined nook between the armrest and my hip
awaits her.
Curious what mischief we can achieve today.
But first,
a short nap.
16 Friday Mar 2018
A princess in the tower,
at a distance looking down,
wishing
and kept.
How to get out? How to get away?
Desperate for rescue, a puddle of tears
and fury.
Why me? This terror and despair.
But, one sunrise, a light switches,
the kaleidoscope shifts,
her untapped power surges
along with the sight that she is on the inside.
An inside most would never know.
Following the sun
with fingertips searching slowly
the walls that keep her,
Somewhere, like the chink in the dragon’s scales,
a crack in stone
will bring the first ray of wisdom,
and freedom for which she was born
hungry.
06 Tuesday Mar 2018
Having lost touch with the beauty of chaos
a fogged vision sewn of fear
and the iron-grip of hoped for control
eventually forces bursting rolls of laughter, or
sphincters tight enough to pop
(not so pretty- quick, turn toward the pansies planted to your left).
If remembrance of having a tail to shake breaks through,
that romp, leap, roar and thirteen-step boogie
will plunk soul back in wild order
and life’ll flow naturally once again.
04 Sunday Mar 2018
Posted in adventure, change, discomfort, home, poems, poetry, transition
≈ Comments Off on Displaced, longing, spent
If displaced, longing, or spent
a gnawing twistiness of home
erupts
with an ugh, tug, a grrrrmph
and out tumbles a wish-
well, a need-
for a spot, covered nook, a nest or wee corner
stocked full of warmth, quiet, books
and visiting songbirds to the window ledge
but
an illusion of safety, the net many speak of
(what, again, is the fabric of that?),
mocks such steady states in a mind
abuzz with too much time
and hunting
for the next place to call one’s own.
02 Friday Mar 2018
Curses
Crashes, Stomps, and Sighs,
Why, and How, Blather & Spot,
Torsion, Inertia, served with all the goopy grey sides.
Grrrphufl and sniff!
Discomfort.
Course, without it
exactly what would- or could-
ever become of us.
Growth…who ordered this dish anyway?
02 Friday Feb 2018
And when Fear comes knocking?
Or, more likely, bamblarkblasting its way in,
do you invite him to sit down,
notice her nebulous sucking barbed wire darkness,
and surrender yourself to the visit knowing
something important will be learned?
Come, come Fear, welcome,
enter and offer what brings you through town-
you might say
in honor and awe of,
out of respect for the guest with power
to leave you shivering, quivering
and yet more able to walk on
with starlight in your eyes-
have yourself a cup of tea,
You must be tired.
22 Monday Jan 2018
Horse sits in the corner
noticing possum hasn’t touched her tea.
Possum, meanwhile,
wonders about her pedigree.
Tortoise dozes in his shell,
tipping awkwardly toward ostrich’s tail,
when zebra waltzes in swishing his stripes
sending peacock for the door in utmost fright.
Such is a day at Second Street Cafe
with elephant missing and
rat wandering proudly off to play.
Order a cup and join the crew,
there’s a little something for all of you.
Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone 