Saturday, April 30, 2011

Saturday April 30, 2011 NaPoWriMo Day #30



NaPoWriMo Day #30

I begin
I establish
Point of beginning
I do not visualize
The finished drawing
Sometimes
Overtime
I worry
I think of what is ahead
How will I be able to do it
Unanswered questions
No answers really


I continue
I am interrupted
I return
To solve the problem
Of the present moment
There is only one
Solution found
Where my pencil point
Meets the surface
I begin again

The finished drawing
Is a visual collection
Of many solutions
Found one at a time
It is seen as a whole
The problems can no
Longer be seen separately
Nor remembered
Complete
Nothing to add
Nothing to take away

Friday, April 29, 2011

Friday April 29, 2011 NaPoWriMo Day#29



NaPoWriMo Day #29

The Journey of Intent
I thought it was fun
Made me laugh
You saw it as choice
I guess I would agree

Through the door An idea creeps
Presents itself
Waits to be embraced
Set your course
Take a step

Along the way
Another visitor

You wonder
Why all the bother
Is this really worth it
Could be doing
Something really important
Walk among the sage
Pet the cat
Count the stars

When doubt seems to out weight
What it is you are doing
You will continue
You will not quit
You don't know
What's down that road
Until you have traveled it

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Thursday April 28, 2011 NaPoWriMo Day #28/Bozone Prompt/ Red Shoes by Terrase Wellborn


Image from the internet.

http://bozone-bw.blogspot.com/

Brenda's prompt: Anguish

Each Day Offers A New Beginning

At first I thought
I would select "anguish"
And then write
About the opposite
But on second thought
What fun it would be
To explore anguish
A dungeon of horrors
A tale of woe
List all of the adversities
Drag it out
Talk real slow

I could get down in the dumps
If only to find the silver lining
That each distress brings
Investigate every disease
Explore disorders
Detail them in all their gore
List each illness
Symptoms and outcomes
Trials and tribulations
Drag it out
Talk real slow

There is much actual suffering
In this world
No shortage of calamities
Depression rules the day
Grief, hardship and misery
The world itself seems angry
There is sorrow through-out the land
No end to misfortune
Illness, death, storms and waves
Drag it out
Talk real slow

But in the end
When all is quiet
Peace comes to
The frightened heart
The sun rises again in the east
Brings solace
Happiness is yours' for the taking
Perhaps so much death
Destruction and misfortune
Only serves to remind
Those of us left standing
It is good to be alive
There is joy in each and every breath
Give thanks
For one more day
Drag it out
Talk real slow



__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________



Today Ruthie posted Terrase Wellburn's Red Shoes piece. And Terrase posted a piece by Ruthie. Hope you will stop by.
http://ruthie822.blogspot.com



This image is the gate to the delights of my friend Terresa Wellborn, who has been generously featuring poets from the blogosphere during National Poetry Month at her blog The Chocolate Chip Waffle.

Today, I am her featured guest! What a wonder. You can get there from here.

I'll take this chance to tell you if you have not already passed through her gate that Terresa is a force of nature, as delicate and as strong as a cosmos flower rising up through a crack in the sidewalk. Her allures of femininity and a little quirkiness are a cross between a teenage prankster and a wise old mother. Her poetry is nuanced, unexpected and titillating, her hunger for life and poetic expression is a double decker bus loading little girls and mothers in high heels to embark for a joy ride on top.



Here is a sample of Terresa's poetry I especially like.




Red Shoes

I was thirty-three,
I wasn't sure I could carry it off,
throated birds sprouting as feet,
sunsets,
a catastrophe.

They rushed over my toes,
I couldn't help it,
they spoke in slick tongues,
an August heat.

They unbuckled like the
back porch unlocking rain,
the color you hear in
veins, colliding.

I wear them now
every day,
they speak nothing of
desire.

-Terresa Wellborn
-

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Wednesday April 27, 2011 NaPoWriMo Day #27/Big Tent Poetry/ Signed...bkm



Today bkm has published the Myth of the Red Moccasins, which she wrote for the Red Shoes Artists Book Project. I hope you will go to her site and read her wonderful piece. http://signedbkm.blogspot.com/

And I especially want to thank Barbara for participating in the project. She is a very special writer, and I am so pleased she is participating.




Image from the internet.

NaPoWriMo Day #27

Big Tent Prompt: Poem about Mason Jars

A Collection in a Marson Jar
The typos have been
Collected into
The mason jar
Turn the page
Glaring
Staring
Overlooked
and
Angry

The princess in her finery
Hesitates to take a step
The tea is laid
Letters in a row
The mason jar overflows
Glaring
Staring
Overlooked
and
Angry

The roller coaster
Begins its' slow assent
Stitches made
March along the edge
The finger is pierced
Red Blood drops
Onto the snow
Glaring
Staring
Overlooked
and
Angry

The typos tumble
Performers all
The lights come up
Masters of illusion
Like weeds in the garden
Snuggle up to favorite plants
Want to stay
Want to be loved
Glaring
Staring
Overlooked
and
Angry

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Tuesday 26, 2011 NaPoWriMo Day #26






NaPoWriMo Day #26
http://bozone-bw.blogspot.com/2011/04/napowrimo-24-wordle-launch.html

Paper- Cut
Sharp is the edge
The paper-cut
On my finger
Stanch the blood
With tissue
Squeeze
Release

The blood steals
Down upon the page
Words tattooed
Upon the heart
Replenish words spent
In rhyme and rhythm
Whispered in love

The needle sharp
Steals through the pages
Pulling the thread through
Pinwheels bound together
A piquant form
Spinning eternally
Through all emotions
Nothing diminished
Seeking the unusual
Is not cheap

Careful planning
Personal rhythm
Not a race
Rather a slow and steady creep
To dodge the sharp edges
That cuts the finger
That soaks the page
That hold the words
The pinwheel
On which my heart is written

Monday, April 25, 2011

Monday April 25, 2011 NaPoWriMo Day #25



http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/
Prompt: Falling Poem

Failing Falling
It is that feeling of falling
Failing, falling, failing
I fail often
My goal
To fail without the
Feeling of falling
Careening

Down
Down
Down

Nothing to catch the fall
No recovery
The bottom
The slow assent
Balance precariously
To fail again
To fall

Down
Down
Down

To know the fall in the failure
Isn't real
Only a dream
I rise to fall again
To fail better
Without the fall

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________





http://bozone-bw.blogspot.com/


Land of Enchantment
Thoughts "recount"
My responses
Words "sprouting"
In the garden of my mind
Creates "message" of spring


Words into "phrases"
True explanation "inept"
In their place
Traces of "scars"
"Crude" images "forever"
Drawn upon the skin
After rain
Ideas ring like "silver" bells
Across the "perfumed" sage
All raises to a "crescendo"
Visions and emotions
Land of enchantment
Is not "flattery"
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________






Magpie #63

Magpie #63 is a Mystery
I do not understand
What I see
Bright colors
Red and green
Kaleidoscope
Radiating light

I am reminded
Of the movie
"What the Blank Do We Know?"
In the movie
A story was told
Of the first people
Came to the shore
Looked out to the sea
Saw ships on the horizon
Because they had
Never seen them
Before and did not know
Of them
Had no language
To speak of them
It was concluded
They did not see them

I'm not sure I have
Words to speak
Is it bright lights of a circus
Or lights on a Christmas tree
Even though the colors are bright
I think it is something
I do not see

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________




NaPoWriMo Day #25

Identifying Who is Who
Yes, I was offended
That slimy son of
The Reverend Billy Graham
Was the first thing I saw
And heard this morning
Talking to Meka
Saying, "Because a person
Attended a Christian Church
That didn't make him a Christian,
Not a good Christian
Like himself who had
Dedicated his life to christ"

He said the President himself
Had told him he was a Christian
And he believed him, but......

The implication was that
The President of the United States
Wasn't a Christian that really
Measured up

When asked directly
Oh no, he said he
Would never judge a Christian
And yet...

That was exactly what was implied
As they showed the President
And his family attending Church
On Easter Sunday
I think there have been
Other Presidents who
Only attended church
Occasionally

I don't think I have ever
Heard a representative
Of the Church
Casting doubt on
The beliefs or the faith
Of another American President

Perhaps you do not think
It appropriate for me to say
But this lowly person
Was speaking publicly on TV
For all the world to see
What kind of organization
Is this
And who would want to
Be a part of that

Just something
I had to get off
My chest

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Sunday April 24, 2011 NoPoWriMo Day #24





NaPoWriMo Day #24
Suday Scribblings #264 Shine

Shining for Elizabeth
The sun isn't shining
There is a blanket
Of grey clouds
A downy coverlet
Over the New Mexico landscape

The pen moves across
The creamy page
The weeks pass like
Smoke through a key hole

And you speak of
"knowing without knowing"
Knowing without words to explain
The marbles fall into slots
There is order
And something is clear
Perhaps for the first time
Perhaps for all times

And yet the nest is
On the ground, again
Dislodged from
It's hiding place
Is it magpies or wind
The nest will be replaced
You will deal with
The destruction
But it is a dangerous
Neighborhood indeed
Hungry magpies are
Watching your every move

Nothing safe or secure
The sun has come out
From it's hiding place
Adobe walls
Capture it's warmth
Breaking the hard shell
To see the crystals
Shine from within

Together we marvel
At the miracle
Notes plucked on
Perfectly drawn strings
We hum along
Follow the thread
Words dropped
Upon the page
The pen marks
Their outline

What is known
Comes into focus
Our feet begin
To pick up the rhythm
We clap our hands
It is the season
The eggs are laid
We watch and we wait
For all to hatch
All that is known
And all that is unknown

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Saturday April 23, 2011 NaPoWrMo Day #23





This is the drawing I just finished. It is 22"x28," graphite and gouache on paper. It is the first nest I have found that uses mud blobs as construction materials, I am calling it an adobe nest, so appropriate for a nest found in New Mexico, land of adobe.
I think this nest was built by a raven.

According to Ted Andrews, Animal Speak, The keynote words for Raven is magic, shapeshifting, and creation. "The raven is one of those birds that has a tremendous amount of lore and mythology surrounding it, and it is often contradictory. It is a bird of birth and death, and it is a bird of mysticism and magic."


New Mexico Nest
To remember
What was seen
In real life
Or dreams......

Blue sky
Finding it's way through
Bare branches

Windy dust devils
Hurling dirt
Like boys at play

And you
Your pleasure
Your serious face
Lets share a cup of tea

I've been at my work
Started on the tenth
The day I found you
Behind the post office

Finished on the twenty second
Much crying and noshing of teeth
And now you are fine
As you were meant to be

When in my work I hardly
Look up
A circus parade could go by
I would not see it

All of my senses
My brain are engaged
And today
Easter Sunday
I begin anew
High hopes
And expectations

Perhaps that is what it is
The roller coaster ride
Nothing in between

Unless you've tried it
You cannot know
The intimations
A lovely piece
Of pure white paper
How insignificant
Unworthy one can feel
Your courage must be gathered
Inspirations remembered
You pick up the pencil
You begin
And you touch
Gently with love

You turn yourself
Wrong side out
Like a rubber glove
You no longer
Protect anything
You give it all
Is it real life
Or a dream

Friday, April 22, 2011

Friday April 22, 2011 PoNaWriMo Day #22/ Poets United/ Poetic Asides



Image from the internet.

http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/2011/04/thursday-think-tank-45-secrets.html

Poets United Prompt: Secret


Secret
Secret is one of the characteristics
Of my Astrological summery
But I am no secret
I am open
I wear it all upon
My heart for
All the world to see

Even if it is not something
I would mention
I still do not
Think of it as
A secret
Only something
Of little interest

Certainly there are things
I would not share
A stumble in public
But no harm
No foal
Not really a secret

Really, to be a secret
I'm not sure
Is it something that
Might destroy a life
Pierce a heart
Have unintended
Consequences

Easy come
Easy go
The secret
Flies from the lips

Today I will keep
My secret
Inside my pocket
Tomorrow
I will share it
But for always
I will keep yours
In a secret drawer
Filled with letters
For your eyes only

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


Image from the internet.
Poetics Acides Prompt: The Only one in the world.

The Only One in the World

The one I love to see
The one I want to be with
The one who laughs out loud
The one who cares
The one who loves every color
especially green
Henry's best friend

She is my sister
The one I am so proud of
The one I could never repay
The one who talks to crows
The one who never sys no
She is the one, irreplaceable
The only one in the world

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Thursday April 21, 2011 NoPoWriMo Day #21


Image from the internet, drawing by Van Gogh.

Poetic Aside Prompt: Second Thoughts
http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/2011/04/21/2011AprilPADChallengeDay21.aspx

Second Thoughts
The wind whistles through
The trees
I bend to pick up sticks
A ritual
A dance
A game
Setting my mind free
Untethered
A kite in the wind
Hard to tell
No words to say
New thoughts
Second thoughts
Or... just love

The lucky poet
Carefully places each moment
Upon the window sill
Arranges them by size
And color
Image appears
Like the completion
Of a puzzle
New thoughts
Second thoughts
Or... just love

The book falls open
Reading between the lines
The world is brighter
Exploring distant shores
As in a dream
Hard to tell
No words to say
New thoughts
Second thoughts
Or...just love

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Wednesday April 20, 2011 NoPoWriMo Day #20






Image from the internet.

NoPoWriMo Day #20

Watermark of Dreams
Hold it to the light
Outline is crisp
The long narrow body
The flashing wings

She waits
Holds out her hand
The ritual begins
She dances
Dips and dives
Cross the stream
Stepping from
Stone to stone

Select the pencil
Blackwing
Graphite encased in wood
Well crafted tool
Black with gold lettering

It is a mistaken
Illusion
Flight pattern dips
Behind the barn
Amends are made
Return to original plan

Feet sink into the ooze
Much to fear
Alligators wait
Mosquitos buzz
Snakes find refuge
Spanish daggers
Razor sharp

Resolve is tested
The trace of the watermark
Is tenderly impressed

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Tuesday April 19, 2011 NoPoWriMo Day #19





Stepped outside, facing southeast.

NaPoWriMo Day #19

Recounts of the Day
Recognition
Walk in the garden
A sanctuary
Sincere
Not meant
As flattery

So much was
Sprouting from
The message
Kill SS and medicare
The Mad Hatter and Alice
Tales of Uncle Remus
New plans
Broken pipes
Confrontation
Reaching its'
Crescendo
The crude clown
The rude Donald
Number one

Recounts of the day
And it was only Monday
Rain against the
Window pane
Watered the garden
A good soak
Silver light
Breaking morn
Serious scars to the
Social safety net
Wrong today
Wrong forever

Hard to smell the
Perfume
Overwhelming stench
Of what is laid to
Waste
Liars and cheats
Bought and paid for
Recounts of the day

From Brenda W's Sunday Wordle.



From the studio window, looking west.

Monday, April 18, 2011

Monday April 18, 2011 NaPoWriMo Day #18/Magpie #62



Magpie #62


Eggs on a Plate
As usual
I awoke
Long before my desire
To relinquish
The surviving trace
Of my nighttime
Slumber

The sky still indigo
Searched for the last morning star
Found the hammered golden disk
On the horizon
Made my wish in
Emerald green


Returned to my coffee
Dark and rich
You have laid
My breakfast upon
The willow plate
A scene of Japan
Blue and white


Two golden disks
Like the full moon
Times two
Nuclear meltdown
Broken yokes
Spill upon
The landscape


________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________




NaPoWriMo Day #18

Floating Debris
Flotsam and Jetsam

We are all but
Floating debris
Upon the waters of life
Have no idea where we have been
Uncertain where we are going

We stretch out to full length
We touch each other
Fingers and toes entwined
For fear we aren't
Really here at all

The echos of my screams
Also float near me
Bump into bits of plastic
Feeds nothing
Kills much

Where are we going
The destination
Is determined
By the current
And you say
It is alive in each of us

For perhaps even though
Our journeys are unique
We seek the same
Final destination

You chart the stars
Count each one
Assign names
Lean back
Float the flow
I wait for you

And we ask
Who is responsible
For this
We listen
The answer comes
Echoing back
Like the sound
Of a fog horn
The responsibility
Is ours
It is mine

I wrote this in response to Sherry Blue Sky's post. http://stardreamingwithsherrybluesky.blogspot.com/2011/04/floating-debris.html

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Sunday April 17,2011 NaPoWriMo Day #17



NaPoWriMo Day #17

Girl on the Bridge
Early morning
Darkness outside my window
I turn to the East
To the endless distance
That separates us
Your presence is near

Drums beat
The day begins
My desk is cluttered
And stacked with
Books and paper
The cluttered living space
Indicates a cluttered mind
But my mind is clean

Empty

As if the housekeeper has
Been here and left everything

Spotless

Distant drums beat
The sounds of my heart
Rumble across the sage
Secrets whispered
New dawn coming
The code is hard to break

We speak to each other
Hardly aware of the
Meanings of the words
Yet we speak
And we speak again
We cry
We plead
So anxious to say
Forget to listen

Snatch vibrations
From the air
Like puzzle pieces
Nothing fits
No image is made
No clues given

We alter the pieces
Force them together
Seek the solution
Deny the answers given

Look again to endless distance
Unfold the map
Find the coordinates
North south east and west
Slowly draw fingers
Across Rivers
Mountains
Plains
And seas

There you are
On the bridge of the foot
We will meet
My eyes will recognize
The girl on the bridge

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Saturday April 16, 2011 NaPoWriMo Day #16


Image from the internet.
NaPoWriMo Day #16

Spring Day

Full of light
No flowers
Plants that have been
Resting all winter
Push through the soil
Garden is filled
With new beginnings
And weeds
The returning pair of
Fly catchers weave
Their nest

In spring it is said
"A young man's
Fancy turns to love."
I say, "In spring
We put away our woolies
Open the windows
And sing!"
Say goodbye
To another hard
Winter and all
That is cold
Snow and ice cicles

In the distance
A hot air ballon
White with blue
And gold trim
Rises above
Taos Valley
Where the red
Willow grows

At this early hour
All is quiet
I read your post
Send my energy
Across the mountains
To embrace you

Think through
Plans for this day
Look at the broken ties
Contemplate the
Needed mends
Consider the stitches
Cross stitch or blanket
Good for frayed edges

Listen for your waking
Look ahead to
What will be done

--Proceed

A certain sameness
To what I do
Yet it is spring
And I sing
In New Mexico
The blue sky
Is filled
With balloons
Sad clowns return
leading puppies
On a string

Friday, April 15, 2011

Friday April 15, 2011 NaPoWriMo Day #15



http://themethursday.blogspot.com/2011/04/thursday-april-14-2011-spice.html

Kisses for Spices

Ships sail east
Find safe harbor
Trade sweet juicy
Kisses
For spices
Saffron and celery
Yellows and greens

Kisses the original
Spice of life
Bundles without number
Feet float above ground
Feeling rises from earth
Yellows and greens

Gentle petals
Of tulip
Dance gracefully
Across
Desert sands
Grain by grain
Yellows of
Mustard seed


Dropped into hour glass
Amber seeks its level
Like syrup on pancakes
Slides on the plate
Surrounds me as
A desert island

Cinnamon and sugar
Lick fingers
Kiss and kiss again
Love in an envelope
Black pepper and red

Tongue moisten stamp
Press against body
Raise the sails
Wait for wind

Homecoming
Nutmeg
Allspice
Cloves
And Coriander

One more kiss
And a sailors old rhyme
Poppy seed
Sesame seed
Cardamom and you

The spice that is mine!

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Thursday April 14, 2011 Poetic Asides/ NoPoWriMo Day #14


Vessels Artists Book Project

http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/
Prompt: Ain't None of Your business.

Ain't None of Your Business

I offer it to you
You look away
You are not interested
Say it ain't none of your business

I have created it for you
It is my love
My heart made visible
You look away

The colors chosen
From the new day
I have offered my best
You are not interested

Each work is nestled
Within the vessel
Shares space
Holds the air you breath
You say it ain't none of your business

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

NoPoWriMo Day #14

This morning I received a poem from Larry Robinson. There were many things I liked about the poem, but I wanted more. I decided to write a response to this poem, The Wolf God, by Anne Carso.


The Wolf God

Like a painting we will be erased, no one can remain.
I saw my life as a wolf loping along the road
And I questioned the women of that place.

Some regard the wolf as immortal, they said.
Now you know this only happened in one case and that
Wolves die regularly of various causes—

Bears kill them, tigers hunt them,
They get epilepsy,
They get a salmon bone crosswise in their throat,

They run themselves to death no one knows why—
But perhaps you never heard
Of their ear trouble.

They have very good ears,
Can hear a cloud pass overhead.
And sometimes it happens

That a windblown seed will bury itself in the aural canal
Displacing equilibrium.
They go mad trying to stand upright,

Nothing to link with.
Die of anger.
Only one we know learned to go along with it.

He took small steps at first.
Using the updrafts.
They call him Huizkol,

That means
Looks Good in Spring.
Things are as hard as you make them.

- Anne Carso


In Response to the Wolf God by Ann Carso

You say, we will be erased
Erase, erased, obliterated
Like a painting or
Words on a page

No one will remain

For me the Wolf God
Is un-erasable
The Wolf God lives on
Even when extinct

The Wolf is trail finder

Leader

The exact opposite
Of what is told

Wolf has much to teach
Strong sense of family
Loyal and lives by defined
Rules and rituals

Wolf is all that is

Wild

This I have seen
In night of the full moon
Wolf goes to sacred places

Sings

In ways of communication
Knows the signs
Knows how to read them
Often communicates
Through body language

Wolf knows the
Poet's way
Chooses words carefully
Truthful and says only
What is meant

Wolf has much to teach
True freedom requires

Discipline

And when it comes
Too falling in

Love

And dedication to family
Wolf has no equal

Hated and hunted to extinction
Wolf's greatest enemy
Is man and his superior
Killing machines
Even the sky cannot be trusted

There are many names
For Wolf Gods and heros
And many tales of Wolf heroism
Call Wolf Huzikol
Looks good in spring

Trailblazer

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Wednesday April 13, 2011 NaPoWriMo Day #13



NaPoWriMo Day #13

Little Nest
Tightly woven
Abandoned after
Its' original use
In the nest
Is one egg

The break
The shape of a beak
The broken egg is
Like a broken promise
Or dream

Against many odds
Predators and weather

Or

Location
Location
Location

The nest
Must be hidden
When a nest is found
Upon careful inspection
It is a secret disclosed
A story told

The birds make their selection
A mate is chosen
A safe place is found
Each perfect twig discovered
And brought to the nest

The weaving is done
To perfection
Each bird's nest
May have a style
As to it's breed
Each nest
Proclaims individual
Expression
Based upon the
Materials chosen

They sit on their eggs
And protect them
When the eggs hatch
The parents work
To feed the young
And at last it is time to fly

Some do...

Success is
A wonder of nature
When all is said and done

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Tuesday April 12, 2011 NaPoWriMo Day #12


NaPoWriMo Day #12

Problem-solving
Focus on a "thing"
Interest wonders
Look harder
Try to discern
Shape
Texture
True color
Heft
Purpose

Look closely
Try to answer
The questions

The focus shifts
I begin to look
At it's neighbor
The relationship
Of the primary object
And what is around it
How they are similar
And how they are different

Perhaps it is my way to
Problem-solve
As I begin to focus upon an idea
It begins to spread
Like the roots of an old tree
Which mirror the tree
Connected
But not exactly the same
You can never be really sure
Of the direction or the depth
Of the taproot

One interest leads to another
There is no stillness
To thought
It moves at it's own will
A flash of lighting
Or the slow movement
Of a green turtle
Balancing the earth
Upon its' back
If we are to be in the game
We must follow
No preconceptions

The ground opens
The sky closes
Your world shifts
The light is shut out
Just for a while
But like water
It finds the way in
Seeks new direction
Pulling you along
Your curiosity wins
You follow

Monday, April 11, 2011

Monday April 11, 2011 NaPoWriMo Day #11/ Magpie





NaPoWriMo Day #11

The Circus is Gone

The circus left
Our town today
The thrill is gone
All packed up
And went away

The circus comes to town in April
Kicks off the event
With a spectacular parade
The clowns are funny
The elephants walk together
Down main street
Tail in snout
Then all the performers
In colorful, sparkly costumes

The acrobats juggle lighted torches
The limber lady rides
The prancing horse
The fat man with the little dogs
That bark and run
And roll into balls

The band members in uniforms
Red, white and blue
Blow brass horns
Play Sousa Marches
And a big bass drum
Keeps the beat
Boom, boom, boom

Children run along side
Their heads are
Filled with dreams
The circus steals
Their breath away

We are different in April
There are great expectations
When the circus comes to town
But now it's over
Our town is quiet
Nothing special happens here
Boom, boom, boom

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________



One More Glass of Wine

One more glass of wine you say,
The party is over In the morning
The alarm rings early
I need my rest

I enjoyed the party
The conversation
Took us to many places
We haven't been

But my energy is gone
Sleep is the only cure known
For too much fun
And a glass of wine

The liquid poured into the glass
Will not quench my thirst
For what I need is rest

Not one more glass
Not one more minute
I'm leaving now
I enjoyed the evening
Goodnight to all
I must lie down to rest

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Sunday April 10, 2011 NaPoWriMo Day #10



Today I am writing from a prompt at Poetics Asides: Never again
http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/2011/04/10/2011AprilPADChallengeDay10.aspx

NaPoWriMo Day #10

Never Again
There is so much that is never again
Childhood comes but once
Filled with Grandmothers, Grandfathers
Aunts, Uncles and cousins
At times it even seemed crowded

Riding the bicycle to the library
Wind through your hair
Totally free or at least
It felt totally free
Baseball in the vacant lot
Building forts and tea houses
From whatever material available
Each day filled with observing, learning

Then a young woman
Still learning every day
Learning to balance
Trying to have it all

Work, marriage
Then a child
A totally
Separate person

Who knew the time
Would be so short
To try to get it right

Things, that were
Would not always be
Instead I blinked
And found my life
Was passing
And that it would
Never be
As it was again

Like Rip Van Winkle
I slept through much of my life
A piece of driftwood
Floating down the river
Without much thought
Then left lonely
On the deserted beach
Gathered the odds and ends
Bits and pieces
I called my life

Followed old wagon tracks west
There were others who had gone before
Painters -- Georgia O'Keefe, Janet Lippencot
Writers --Peggy Pond Church, Mary Austin
And of course Mabel Dodge Luhan
Women who put their
Feet into the desert sand
Created a life in which
They could create

The days are numbered
But each will be
In the shape of the creator
Each will hold just enough room
To again learn something each day

This life would be
Something that fit
No more settling for
"hand me downs"
Never look back
At what is
Never again

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Saturday April 9, 2011 NaPoWriMo Day #9


NaPoWriMo Day #9

This Day
It is early morning
The pink of passion
Fills the sky
The sun rises
Casts a rosy glow
As I view this coming day
I am reminded of a "jumble closet"
Where to start
What to do first

There is a lesson waiting for me
I must learn something new
So far I've given it only a glance
But it will require sincere study

I will begin a new drawing
As the one I was working on
Is now complete
Take a new piece of
Paper from the drawer

Begin the journey
The pencil will glide
Across the surface
And the texture
Will be made visible
At this point
Anything is possible

The drawing planned
Will be of a nest
Loaned to me from a friend
Found in New Jersey
Blown into the gutter
Retrieved in wonder

There is much to do
In the studio, but
I will have to go out today
And that means time wasted
There is never enough of it
To go around and
I hate to waste it in the car.
It will be a requirement
Of this day

Friday, April 8, 2011

Friday March 8, 2011 NaPoWriMo Day #8




Image from the internet.
NaPoWri Day 8

Mending
Perfectly matched
Graceful as ballet dancers
Arial flight-patterns
Practiced precision

Extension protected
With silver armor
Against penetration
By flashing sword
Snow White's
Dark red blood
Drops upon the
Pure white snow

Joining together
Mending --
Repairing the
Worn-out but
Too soon to replace

Time is not counted
By the numbers on
The clock-face
Rather by the task at hand
At last the mirrored pair
Curl into the lap
Like contented kittens

The north wind
Howls against
My broken window
Seeks my company
Looks for the way in
Geese fly south
In patterns of
Practiced precision

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Thursday April 7, 2011 NaPoWriMo Day 7

Today is Thursday. It rained last night, a rare happening in the desert. This morning was a solid grey. The thick clouds are beginning to break in the west. A bright light of golden silver shines through.

NaPoWriMo Day 7

Sewing mends the soul. --author unknown

(Often when you see, "author unknown"
Or "anonymous," it is a woman
But not important enough
To remember her name"





To Sew/ To Mend the Soul
A needle is selected
Long, sharp and straight
Sturdy thread
Finds the eye

The needle pierces the
Fabric of the soul
Tiny stitches are taken
In, out... in, out
A meditation of sorts

The one who sews
Pictures herself
Mending her heart
The layout of her work
Known only to herself alone

Perhaps she is making
A baby dress
A blanket
An apron
Curtains to shield
From prying eyes

Armed with the knowledge
Of many different stitches
The afternoon slips away
The sounds from the hall clock
Count the seconds
Tick, tock, tick, tock
The needle goes in, out... in, out

The sun sinks in the west
The work is finished for the day
The one who sews
Mends her heart
adding decorative stitches
Sewing her past
And her present
Joining the inside
To meet the outside

Creating a whole
Of who she is
Patching the holes
Securing the frayed edges
One with her own soul
Tick, tock... in, out,
Tick, tock... in, out

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Wednesday April 6, 2011 NaPoWriMo


Image from the internet.

NaPoWriMo

The Dressmaker and the Letter "A"

It was a lesson
Sharp and strict
She had been accused

The letter "A" was appliqued
To the front of her dress
For everyone to see
She dropped her head

She wasn't even sure
She knew what they
Were talking about

There had been rumors
And whispers

When she finished her chores
She applied satin stitches
To the letter
Surrounding the "A"
With more decorative stitches
Including the fox, the monkey
And the geese


If she had to wear that "A"
Upon her dress
She would wear it beautifully

As she stitched
She thought of herself as
Creating her life
And she thought
There had to be more
Than one way

She basted the past
And the dreams of
Her future together
The long running stitches
Reminded her of the
Steps she took to
School and back

She skipped along
The border
And she bound the
Fraying edges
Of her young life

With her shears
She clipped small cuts
To ease
The corners and curves
The road of life was
Not straight

She looked carefully
For the grain lines
Hoping for a clue
As to the direction
She might take

She was but a young girl
The subject of a history lesson
Taught in school
She raised her head
Proud of the beauty
She had stitched
Upon the "A"

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Tuesday April 5, 2011 NaPoWriMo/ Magpie


NaPoWriMo http://writersisland.wordpress.com
Magpie #60

Rain drops Stuck on the Window Pane
Rain the water that sustains
Stuck on the window pane
Distorting the world
Makes it seem everything
Is out of focus

As the drops get heaver
They begin their journey
To the bottom of the pane
This might seem strange
But it's gravity you see.

So out of focus
In a race to the bottom
Rain drops
Stuck on the window pane

Monday, April 4, 2011

Monday April the 4th, 2011 NaPoWriMo #4





The pig in the hat image is from the internet.

The wordle is from Beyond the Bozone
http://bozone-bw.blogspot.com/

The Local Seamstress
It isn't always easy to make
Heads or tales of a
Seamstress' sewing basket
It can become a labyrinth
Or "gumption trap"
Of pincushions, needles
And tangled thread

The attitude of
The little seamstress
May seem that
She is a bit "supercilious"
As she knows her position
In the community

The mayor's wife
Cannot go out
In ill fitting clothes
Nor the preacher in pants
That drag the ground

At times of celebration
Everyone in town
Needs something
Mended, repaired
Taken in or let out
The seamstress feels "agitation"
And is often "harried"

But the "docile" seamstress
With the "speckles"
On her eye glasses
Is "omnipotent" in
Her sewing room
Yes, she is the first word
And the last
When it comes to
Local fashion

She has no "preconceptions"
When it comes to the "journeys"
She will make
While occupied with
The task at hand

Why even once
She was asked to make
A wedding dress
For a "fish"
There were "buzzes"
All over town about this

It was to be a
"Prodigious" happening
After that no one
Could guess what the
Little seamstress
Would be asked to do
A sweater for the dog
A hat for a pig