Sunday, January 29, 2017

January 29, 2017 The Sunday Whirl/ #284 --The Sunday's Whirligig #96 -- Poets United Poets Pantry/ The Circus Comes to Town

Wordle #284 The Sunday Whirl: crooked, hole, sky, there, wise, plants, first, tobacco, eaves

The Sunday Whirligig #96: demands, academic, talk, void

The Circus Comes to Town

there is a suspicion in the land     the folks now in charge are evil liars

clowns at best         many are defiant/stand up         as they have before

against what is un-american      against war                 against prejudice

resist the evil circus      protest the dark one's will      they are brave/unafraid

knowing names will be taken      there could be arrests          move on

there is a suspicion in the land      the folks now in charge are evil liars

the orange king says      i am only fulfilling my promises      i told you who i was

it is necessary       to keep the homeland safe                        the crowds remember

the stories of their grandmothers     it has happened before      there is nothing new here

police in riot gear         tell them to move on                          nothing to see here

how could it happen         and yet we were told                        it could happen here

perhaps time was waiting      to prove it could happen here      slowly the world awakes

the people speak in whispers      plan resistance                        still doubt their eyes

protests and riots on tv       build a wall                                     travel restrictions

cut help for the poor           the least among us                       move on/nothing to see here

January 29, 2017

Friday, January 27, 2017

January 27,2017

Spring is on the Way

long icicles cling for dear life             
from the edge of the snow covered roof
sparkle in the sun light           

hawk sits in the top branches of bare tree
dark silhouette against the pale blue morning sky                  
looks with keen eye
for breakfast to appear

temperatures below “0”
without herald
changes unseen
silently spring is on the way
January 27, 2017


Wednesday, January 25, 2017

January 25, 2017 Poets United Midweek Motif/Change


no nothing stays the same       the river of life          keeps moving never sits still

like coyote                               always on the move       he is here now

in the next instant                    he is gone                  life is like that

never get too comfortable       never sit still         we can never retrieve what is lost

never go home again        for nothing will be the same         nothing will be as it was

as we remember                even things that seems the same           sunrise/sunset

each is different                        no two alike                             a unique gift change

why would we expect things to be the same         we are not the same    we have changed

grown older                              grayer                                            wiser

still in our mind's eye         we remember things as they were       we forget nothing is the same

everything changes                 by the minute/the second       life is but a revolving door

some coming                             some going                         some spinning as in a dance

it is up to us                               to embrace change                          cherish its' value

know it for what it is                 no two seconds alike                       a unique gift change

January 25, 2017

January 25, 2017 Writers Digest/ Let's Take a Look

Let's Take a Look

when we look at art                 so many ways to see               we can see with our eyes                    

with our heads                         or with our hearts                    when we look only with our eyes      

often we do not see at all         with our heads                         we are a little more present                 

more aware                              we can ask and answer questions        what is the color i see 

red/blue/yellow                        what is the shape                     does it have form                    

what is the value                      light/dark                                 can you follow a line  

like a road where does it lead              what is the direction                what is its' character               

or is it just a dot or a mark       made by hand                          falls off the edge                     

or made to stay within what is the size                        is there texture/pattern

visual/or real to the touch        when looking with the heart    is there resonance                   

or a vibration                           as if someone is striking          your own personal inner bell

you may feel chills down your back                or the hairs stand up on the back of your neck

tears may appear                    where dry just moments ago               the heart is full of emotion

when looking at art                  to really see/it is best to use                 eyes/head/ and heart

January 25, 2017                                


Sunday, January 15, 2017

January 15, 2017 The Sunday Wordle #282/ Tiny Stitches --Poets United Poets Pantry

Wordle 282:

Tiny Stitches

as a girl         my mother and my grandmother              taught me to stitch

my grandmother             a quilter                            always on the back of her chair

hung the scrap bag      she would sit and rock               with her tiny stitches

create little squares and triangles     to be put into a quilt      she was known and admired

by all who knew her       for her tiny stitches             following the drawn pencil lines

circles and squares          a blanket of warmth                         based on geometry

as alice walker said of her mother        she was an artist                in her flower garden

at that time                most women were not encouraged                   to create paintings

so they created gardens               made quilts                         and nurtured their families

perhaps i am an artist         because the women before me       didn't think they could be

weren't allowed        sometimes a women could work for a man      paint the backgrounds

but weren't encouraged        to make their own statements             or paint what they liked

blue ribbons aren't often awarded to        (just) mothers                      who hauled water

singed the feathers from the chickens        cooked sunday dinner      woman would become

the author of their own destinies        claiming what was their's         often considered shrill

as if after a long sleep                 they are wakening           they would climb to the peak

break the glass ceiling        often forgetting what women before them     have gone through

making their lives possible     possible to have a sense of themselves         without apology

January 15, 2017

Saturday, January 14, 2017

January 14, 2017 Sunday's Whirligig/ Remember the Brilliant Green of Summer

Remember the Brilliant Green of Summer

the leaves are turning     no longer    the brilliant green of 


coins tossed into the fountain   source of life       water 


catching the morning sun     light glimmers off the water

remember other times     new beginnings      painful endings

slip easily into remembrance      a boy      straight and strong

you breathe         time wasted               thrown from the bridge

someone said     we were killing it                we didn't know

how precious      how short                            a sacred place

the well grown dry       grief moves in               suddenly

you realize          many days have passed      many months

many years      something from the past...still I think of you

January 14, 2017


  Mother   mother, a simple word just six letters   “m” is for mine, meadow, meow all the wonders of the world wild meadow orchids including...