Thursday, December 31, 2015

December 31, 2016 Writer's Digest/ Seeking the Quest of Nothingness

Seeking the Quest of Nothingness

time continues                    like a river                       what was here

is just as suddenly gone     i will not pass this way again              the year ends

the year begins                   is it necessary                  to take inventory

or are all losses marked in red          empty spaces     holes that seem black

 long stretches of nothingness         like water will life fill the spaces     push and shove

for its' share of attention           still...                       having lived most of my life

i know nothing                so many questions unanswered                    you have said

it is not too late               perhaps it is                      the falls are ahead

i rush toward them           the journey over for me                      end of life stands still

i know only the quiet after         ear splitting quiet            the story complete

December 31, 2016








Sunday, December 27, 2015

December 27, 2015 The Sunday Whirl-- The Night After Christmas/ Sunday's Whirligig/ Poets United -- Red Against White

Sunday's Whirligig and Poets United

Red Against White

room of her own                    make that studio                       kitchen

bedroom                                 a luxury                                    not given to everyone

the stream runs through it      thoughts                                    ideas and words

they belong to her                  cherry trees in full bloom          petals fall on to the snow

red against white                    it is not a fact                             just an idea

i am lured into the scene by the red       the red rope               which binds them

lovers holding hands              he pulls down a bough              for her to see

she ties a red ribbon into a bow        hung it in the tree            red against white

spring will come soon enough         the woodlands                  will come alive             

turn green                            offer shade                             i can find no reason for it all        

rains come                           streams overflow                   flood waters cut-short lives            

even on christmas day         or the day after                      it all seems so vicious                    

sweet ones die too soon       hearts broken                         red against white                           

pasted together with red       that is the scheme of things           i fear there is nothing else

December 26, 2015
__________________________________________________________________________
The Sunday Whirl

The Night After Christmas
gathered around the fire                the tale will be told                    for many a year 
      
one after another will join in         adding one detail                       after another

recount all that happened              on that horrible night                 the telling always begins 
 
‘twas the night after christmas      the children were nestled           all snug in their beds

mama in her kerchief                     and i in my cap                         we had just settled down

for a long winter’s nap                   while visions of sugar plums    still danced in our heads
           
then the roof flew off                      with such a clatter                     i sprang from my bed

to see what was the matter              away to the window                 tore open the shutters

threw up the sash                            no moon                                    a starless night
        
the butter on the table                     was next to fly away                  one sentence

after another                               adding to the experience            little things remembered

gives one a chill                              the night was dark and rainy      eleven tornados

eleven killed                                    death and destruction                 everywhere

they said it all happened                  in thirty seconds                         hardly enough time

to run for safety                               to gather one’s thoughts             create a sentence

find connections                              we’ll try again next year             to tell the tale

remember what was lost                 find another ending             with a happy santa clause

                                                        
December 27, 2015                       

  

                      


           
















Thursday, December 17, 2015

Poets United Midweek Motif/ Design

Design

design is not what i say          but the how i say it              it requires planning

thought                                    and something to say          even something simple

finding a unique way to say    the moon is blue                  merry christmas

and all the other trivial things      that make up a day         i miss you

i love you                                thank you                            design is the carrier of meaning

in everything i do                    through design                    i organize what it is

i want to communicate            there are rules                     but rules are to be broken

finding a new way                    new materials                     new meaning

December 17, 2015




Sunday, December 13, 2015

December 12, 2016The Sunday Whirl, Sunday's Whirligig, Poets United / Searching for the Words

Searching for the Words

i wished to sing to you                an aubade                               but the words are lost

i keep searching              the tune misplaced            perhaps i can speak the words to you

the moon was large        in the night time sky                            the moonlight bright

so bright                          bear turned over                                  her sleep disturbed

sometimes              the words i have been searching for             are found dried

like old cheese                    the edges curled when                     i try to sing them

they are so dry                they no longer exist                              in their old form

they unravel                    like threads along the edge                   become fringe

or night mare melodies      you deserve better                             i will continue to search

December 12, 2015














Wednesday, December 9, 2015

December 9, 2015 Poets United Midweek Motif/ The Road South (color)

The Road South

the mountains rise up       look like dark shadows            against a pale morning sky

the snow has melted         so far the weather has been mild           even in december

the days pass quickly        one dissolving into another      like sugar in your breakfast tea

disappearing even before you know                      like the scenes out the car window

wild grasses and dried brush                        golden against the sandy hillsides

dropping into the canyon      the blue car ahead applies his brakes          red lights flash

the rio grand fills its' banks flows south       the road follows the river's meandering path

the old road bed is still visible                         where the little train once made its' way

from santa fe to taos                     ravens occupy the highest branches of the bare trees

which look like grey lace in the landscape      willows red crowd the banks of the river

 along the roadside                     empty bottles sparkle               in the early morning sunlight

December 9, 2015


Sunday, December 6, 2015

December 6, 2015 The Sunday Whirl/ Stitches Sewn by Hand -- Sunday's Whirigig -- Poets United

Stitches Sewn by Hand

give the girl a whirl             crow and spider                    get in step

the night begs for a dance    the sky full of sparkling stars           no warning

no alarm                               that day sunny                     like most other days

soon enough snow will fall    the day will be gloomy      the mountains disappear

all will be grey                    shouts in the distance            the words clumsy

we only speak in whispers     walking single file         red poppy in the button hole

time enough                            to remember                                 a single day

not so long ago                    far away                          memories unravel

stitches sewn by hand          the flight delayed             the storm ahead visible

from the dark clouds            lightning flashes               touches the earth

connection missed               when i got there                you had already left the room

where i saw you last             no blanket to keep me warm          to pull over my head

the cold creeps in                  molecules freeze               socks to mend

December 6, 2015



Thursday, December 3, 2015

December 3, 2015 Writers Digest/ Teacups -- Poets United Midweek Motif/Energy

Teacups

it is the season        shopping and good cheer       while at the bank

i noticed                  a small tree                             with cards on it

on each card            the names of children              in foster care

i examined a card     she is four years old               a short list of things

she wanted for christmas              the first thing on the card

was teacups              a simple request                      today i will go back

get the card and i will go shopping         for a very special christmas gift
    
                                                                                  ….teacups

December 3, 2015

Note:  I was at the bank, and noticed the tree, i examined a card, and asked the cashier about the tree and the cards attached.  I'm not sure why I didn't take the card, but I will get it today.  Can't wait to find the perfect teacups.






Tuesday, December 1, 2015

December 2, 2015 Writers Digest November PAD Challenge 2015 / Let the Moment Begin

Let the Moment Begin

the conductor mounts the band stand
raises his baton
the players take a deep breath
instruments at the ready

he takes my hand
leads me to the dance floor
let the moment begin

November 30, 2015