Sunday, January 31, 2016

January 31, 2016 The Sunday Whirligig /Briar Rabbit and the Zodiac --Sunday's Whirl #235/ There is No Fix --Poets United

The Sunday Whirligig

Briar Rabbit and the Zodiac

icy snow predicted for later in the day      we are in our dens         warmed by the fire

i am reminded of your icy cold fridge heart      your behavior        in the town

if the zodiac was made up of characters from the briar rabbit stories        you are briar fox

with your sniveling ways    lacking the honesty to be yourself       your attempt to disguise

gives way to your mealy mouth demeanor   pressing for something     you huddle at the
                                                                                                                     periphery

cannot stand up straight        your head down                     looking from the corners
                                                                                                                     of your eyes

your words have slashed and burned               left cuts                    drawn blood

you walk away             the shrugs of your shoulders indicate           you don't understand

or you don't care                    satisfied                   you have gotten the attention you crave

it was all about you               you are an accident waiting to happen        now with intention

debris scattered behind you               left for others to sort out                         clean up

swooping in like vultures            debating what happened                         no one quite sure

we are briar goats                     with our furry beards                     make good pack animals

January 31, 2016

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Sunday's Whirl #235

There is No Fix

the sky is overcast                  a grey blue                       a woodpecker flies by my window

hours pass very fast                i check the time         i look up and many hours have passed

not time enough                      or very slow                     especially when i look back

to see behind my action          i anchor myself                 to my work

so i do not risk floating away      into the grey blue sky   the woodpecker teamed up with
                                                                                                                       a magpie

they have disappeared from sight        facts do not really matter              only feelings

two against one                       a sorry state of affairs                with many direct hits

afterwards the feelings were heavy       a certain ending reached               something lost

each day is a risk                    words do matter                         and actions too

sometimes there is no fix       humpty dumpty agrees    for when he fell from the wall

he couldn't be put together again       a sorry way to start a new year    and to end

                                                                                       the first month...of the new year

Note: I wonder....do you think it has all been written, and we are simply actors on a stage? There are surprises, but later it seems if we could have just seen behind the curtain, it would have all been clear and there would have been no surprises? Some endings cannot be avoided....and when they happen how I long to have known...what would happen next. I always think my actions may have been different?

January 30, 2016
















Sunday, January 24, 2016

January 24, 2016 The Sunday Whirl/ The End of the World -- Poets United Poets Pantry -- Sunday's Whirligig/No Time For Laughter

The End of the World

the heavy anchor                no longer set                                i am adrift

hours pass                           i walk on a plain                  of patchwork marshes

red wing black birds       grasp the shafts of reeds         gently sway in the breeze

the sun shines to light the world      it is summer           clicking sounds of insects

i return to this place            & return again                     when first i came

there were abandoned barns along the path                     no other humans in sight

a lonely place             the end of the world                       i can go no further

there is no further              you wait for me                               at “home”

like dorothy           i have forgotten the name of the place         where i belong

lost my way                ahead i see the barns                    silhouetted against the sky

large made of heavy logs             landmarks           i must be on the right path

 this time there are people       sitting outside                 unfamiliar faces

 leisurely smoking                                        or sitting at tables laden with food

i see them move their mouths     as if to speak         i do not understand their words

i enter a barn            there are colorful pictures                   in the windows

stained glass                 gargoyles everywhere                   i have seen them before

familiar                                         ancient                                     old

i am instructed to take the path        to the left                           there is a town

i follow the path up a hill                              at first there are only a few structures

then there are many          a town with a name unknown to me      hard to pronounce

there is a bus station        on the list are three towns with names          unknown to me

carefully chalked on the board       i have money              i could buy a ticket

i do not know where i want to go          by what name it is called       i cannot tell them

i cannot speak                it is always a risk                              to follow a path unknown
                             
you may also find yourself         at a place unknown                         the end of the world

January 24, 2016

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No Time for Laughter

hush                                 the mother whispers to her baby                    looks away

she has already witnessed too much      the world before her           is a disappearing act

she simply closes her eyes           her body begins to sway                 she hums softly

the wind like guilty fingers                   lifts her hair        her life has become a time of woe

she praises those who don't seem to notice                   the ground beneath her feet mossy

she is fierce in her determination          the moonlight glints off the ring she wears on her finger

there is much sorrow              about the history she knows              the future she doesn't

January 21, 2016






















Sunday, January 17, 2016

January 17, 2016 The Sunday Whirl/The Revenant --Poets United Poets Pantry

The Revenant

you are the revenant       you did return                    after years of silence

we really didn't discuss it                        i always thought there would be time

you told me of some of the things                     that happened in your life

some happy                    some sad                                      like any life

the scale tipped one way      and then another       you accepted each fluctuation

                          sigh

no it was not how        i would have written it               not how i wanted it

it was a shadow time       a half life for me                    the child wants to go

the time comes               the child is ready                     the parent grieves

the child always ran ahead     never waiting for the light to change      took chances

the roar of the river        makes me cover my ears          i dismiss what i do not know

                           sigh

sometimes it seems there is no justice           only the memory of your finger to my heart

to your own                                like the river you were the pilot of your own course

all questions dropped          the puzzle pieces fall into place                    it was as it was

you wrote the story of your life                                      and mine

                           sigh

January 17, 2016


Friday, January 15, 2016

January 6, 2016 Sunday's Whirligig/ Knots of Love Untied

Knots of Love Untied

trying to tie knots           no easy task                  organizing memories into bundles

memories of father & mother husband child friends          memories of home

life before                       life after                        you were a part of it all

memories of you             still hard to believe       all could be untied

in an instant                    ashes scattered to the wind               in four directions

your words of anger        trembling                      i record all your words

in memory                       my throat tight              i stand speechless

you make accusations      there is no logic           no yesterday

no tomorrow                    the shoes you wear       are not crystal slippers

i do not know you            fumbling                       i let go

the knot                            that held you                 release you from my heart

January 15, 2015





Sunday, January 10, 2016

January 10, 2016 The Sunday Whirl - Sunday's Whirligig - Poets United/ New Year's Eve Taos, New Mexico

New Year's Eve in Taos, New Mexico

new year's eve           fire crackers &bullets heard              neighbors celebrating

the moon shown brightly       on the new fallen snow               some think it odd

but in the west          it is quiet common                             on occasion

shooters are struck by their own bullets       some are hit in the head by falling bullets

tears are shed           wounds dressed                     happy new year wishes all around

January 10, 2015


Wednesday, January 6, 2016

January 6, 2016 Writers Digest/ Snow in Winter

Snow in Winter

the weather report           warns of snow heavy          in the northern mountains

visibility low                   spirits the same                  work accumulates

like the drifts of snow      in winter                            white

impenetrable                    waiting for the sun             to return

to warm the heart             to rekindle the joy              to proclaim the return of spring

January 6, 2015



Monday, January 4, 2016

January 4, 2016The Sunday Whirl/ The Answer is Yes -- Poets United -- Sunday's Whirligig/The Cycle of Life

The Answer is Yes

caught in a snare          angels hear your cries               you must pause now

until you are released   the cold days and nights           remind you

of other days and nights      following other losses        life is like that

always changing           the buddhists tell us                  nothing is permanent

and it is true                  dial back in memory                 five years

and you will see for yourself      also it is said              you cannot go home again

what is not said          is that there is nothing left           as you remember

no one there               not even the dog         life has a way of getting your attention

slaps you in the face       makes you sit up and take notice         gasp for breath

all is dust                    look under the furniture                            behind the door

and there is nothing but dust           still... when asked            is it all worth it

and in return                 you will hear a soft whispered...                yes

January 4, 2016

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The Cycle of Life

cold snow covered nights          feel lonely               there is not a ripple on the pond

what was wet                             is now frozen           beneath

all are sleeping                   waiting for spring            a time of celebration

new flowers                              new colors                new life

we will not notice all the changes                    in our hurry-up lives

the animals in the fields         will be munching new grass      grazing on tender young shoots

the long winter over           gladly we take off our jackets      at twilight

the new moon will rise          shine over a new world             the cycle of life begins again

January 4, 2016