Imaginary gardens with real toads

When traveling the roads, like many travelers, I dodge the potholes.   One must “do-si-do,” to avoid the holes, or your conveyance may be lost.  I have heard it has happened many times before. 

I am told, it is the” freeze and thaw,” that causes the holes.  This winter has seen much snow.  Spring is expected and rain is predicted.

A traveler dodges the potholes

Swerves to the left or right

Driver appears drunk

February 28, 2019

Blame and Forgiveness/dVerse Blame and forgiveness

Blame and Forgiveness

You say, you don’t know how

I agree

The subject is difficult

Who is to blame

If it is you

Step forward

If it is me

Point with your finger

Still I am not sure…

Was it all a joke

Or just someone out of sorts

Words thrown to the ground

Bounced like a rubber ball

“Back at you”

Screamed silently

I thought if I said nothing

It would all be OK

Now, it has been four years

Since the scene

No one is quite sure

The words thrown that day

Are old and rotten

As the day they were said

At the top of your lungs

The love it there

But why would you say such things?

Somethings cannot be sorted out

But remain in a tangle

Lost in the bottom of a heart

Still wounded

Still smarts

Still broken

February 26, 2029

What the Heck?/dVerse Quadrille #74

What the Heck?

I read the words

Struggle for meaning

I understand each word

But what the heck is he saying?

Sometimes it is difficult

To get the meaning

Sip a little at a time

The door opens slowly

The creak of the hinge

Has as much meaning

February 25, 2019

Great Expectations/imaginary gardens with real toads

Great Expectations

All is quiet

The sun shines brightly

Shadows dance across the road

Camouflage potholes

The car swerves from side to side

Sometimes they are at such an angle

If you try to avoid one

You drop into another

It has been a hard winter

Too much snow

Freeze and thaw

Many more potholes than before

Spring will be beautiful

It seems what is expected 

Is always more beautiful

That what is remembered

February 26, 2019

Devastated By a Word/dVerse

Devastated By a Word

Hard to believe, but true

And it could happen to each of us

What is important to you?

We each hold “sacred ground” about something

And that something is hard to know

Perhaps it is something we are heavily invested in

Something we love

Something we have created

Yes, we are tender little children

When it comes to what we think of as ours’

On this day

It is four little paintings

Four little paintings

Four abstract paintings

And in these paintings

I have poured myself

The whole of me

The colors and transitions

Are stunning 

In my opinion

When you say you are not keen on them

I am devastated

Thrown to the ground

In deep sorrow

And yet

Why would I expect you to see

Perhaps they don’t even look like

What I see

They are simply what is “left over”

From time in the studio

I take out my heart

Examine it carefully

Allow it to bleed all over

What is in front of me

A work of art 

I have made for you

February 25, 2019

Maybe/the sunday whirl -- Poets United Poets Pantry

Maybe

When my response is “maybe”
It simply means I won’t commit
I’ll remain on the fence
I cannot say you are right nor wrong

Don’t chide me
Nor put me on trial
There are times I don’t know for sure
Can’t decide

Just want to remain neutral
Ride the waves
Watch the tide come in
See the bay brightly sparkle

Often, I remain in a wormhole of time
Knowing life isn’t always smooth sailing
Within a vial of “sea”
Is everything you will need to know

February 24, 2019

Wordle 392:    tithe, 

Maybe, chide, trial, decide, just, ride, tide, bright, wormhole, smooth, vial,           

Days Before Daybreak/imaginary gardens with real toads

Days Before Daybreak

The shades are drawn

The room still dark

Outside the moon hazy

Snow melts slowly

In the days before daybreak

Somewhere between dreams and waking

Robin greets the morning with song

The blue heron spreads his wings 

In celebration 

End of winter

February 22, 2019

Fun, Funny, Funniest/poets united midweek motif

Fun, Funny, Funniest

Life is filled with fun

Maybe not big fun

But little fun each day

I spring from my bed

The hour early

It will be some time before the sun rises

In the dark

I find my way

Open the door

Let the kitten out to  play

It is fun just to still be here

And funny too

Some have left, already gone

What am I doing still here?

Fun to have that first cup of coffee

Dark and rich

My brain trails two steps behind

What will the day bring

Will it be fun, funny, or the funniest

I follow myself to the studio

The work is planned

Some colors mixed

The sky is clear

No snow today and that will be fun

February 20, 2019

Cowardice and Courage/imaginary gardens with real toads

Cowardice and Courage

I am not a courageous virgin

Not courageous for the first time

Nor a coward

I have known them both

The feelings are not new for me

But feelings they are

I have been afraid

And didn’t think I could do it

Yet I did...

The most unthinkable

The hardest challenge…

When called

I showed up

I walked through fire

Held you close

Said goodbye

And faced life without you

I could not turn away

Took a deep breath

Eyes focused on the horizon

Though invisible you walked with me

And you remain with me now

You showed me your courage

Your strength

No one could say you were a coward

February 19, 2019

Selma/imaginary gardens with real toads

Selma

What to say about the Canadian

The one who became my friend

Full of life, or “piss and vinegar”

As she would say

A bit of a rascal in everyway

And yet as loveable as a kitten

Her familiar, the cat, Pablo

So much a part of her life

She would talk to him

Touch him

Care for him

Her soft furry companion

He stayed by her side

Cared for her, too

You called, shared the news

She could stay no longer

I looked out from my window

Not a star in the sky

Rain fell in a dribble

Like tears sliding down the cheek

She would follow the piper

A strong warrior

I am honored to have known you

Your winning ways

Your tricks 

And your manners

One of a kind

A very special person

We each will go in our own time

Your chair will remain empty

I will wait for your return

February 15, 2019

Selma  was a very special friend.  I will miss her.

What is Invisible/dVerse

What is Invisible

Isn’t everything we don’t’ see

And everything we don’t feel

And everything we don’t hear

And everything we don’t smell

And everything we don’t taste

Invisible

So much of life is invisible to us

Unless you tell me how you feel

I don’t know

Unless you sing for me

I cannot hear the song in your heart

Unless you tell me the scents of your garden

I will not know, for I may never visit your garden

Unless you tell me the taste of the apple you just ate

I don’t know

We might call the “overlooked,” invisible

How many nights pass

That we don’t see the moon and stars

How often have we stepped over something small

Without knowing it is there

Often, we are in the world

Without seeing the world

Or consciously experiencing it in anyway

February 19, 2019

What if the Moon Disappeared Tomorrow?/imaginary gardens with real toads

What if the Moon Disappeared Tomorrow?

I am running a wee bit late

As often happens

Trying to stay on schedule

I’ve been thinking about your question…

What if the moon disappeared tomorrow?

And right away

I know lovers were have nothing to say

People would be sad

Romance would die

Alice Walker would no longer gaze at it

Perhaps she would find no inspiration for her writes

In the darkest of nights

There would be no light for children to play out at night

Without the moon over my heart

I would have nothing to say

Tides would no long rise or fall

It shines light on dark paths

Shows the way 

Adds mystery 

And spice to life

February 18, 2019

Selma/the sunday whirl --poets united poets pantry

Selma

Written on water
The message
Slides below the surface
Barely legible

With a stick
I draw a line in the sand
From my heart to yours’
The message said you are gone

Just disappeared
Climbed from your bed…
No one knows for sure
The story a bit hazy

Upon return
The room empty
All nooks and crannies were searched
The day ended on a high note

They said, you were happy
The dishes were cleared from the table
Water drained from the sink
Scraps offered to the dogs

The wind blew all night
The morning calm
Hard to believe
You are gone for good

February 17, 2019

Note: Sometimes it is just that way. You were sick, and couldn’t live forever…still death comes as a surprise.  How do you choose a few words that wrap up a life…a life lived long. Beauty, color, funny, faithful, fun, laughter, “the bell of the ball.”   I will miss my friend, Selma Cooper.

Oh Love/poets united midweek motif/love -- imaginary gardens with real toads

Oh Love

Oh love

Who doesn’t seek for love

A precious pearl

A tantalizing glow

Oh love

Were for are thou

Hard to find

Like horny toads, and blue lizards

Oh love

My quest continues

Across the sands

A seeker I am

Oh love

Will I know thee

When confronted

Or will I walk on by

Oh love

I’ll wait right here

By the garden gate

Now don’t be late

And when I’m told

You have already passed

I am waiting still

Maybe, you will come back

February 14, 2019

What is Real and What is Not/ dVerse

What is Real and What is Not

It can be a dilemma

Caught in a web

Unable to move

Unsure which way to go

Are dreams real, you ask

Hard to say

For they seem so

Until you wake with a gasp

Is love real

It seems so

When you look into my eyes

Steal a kiss

Will it last

Hard to tell

Passion comes and goes

Like the wind itself

The sky turns dark

The wind blows a gale

A storm is upon us

And then it blows itself out

All is calm

What is real

The storm or the calm

Hard to tell

When in the middle of it

February 13, 2019

A Prelude to a First Kiss/dVerse

A Prelude to a First Kiss

Soft strands of music

Waft across the mesa

Low beat of drums 

The rhythm grew faster

A night like no other

At the end of the evening

You leaned forward

Lips missed their mark

It was a prelude to a first kiss

February 12, 2019

Signals of Time/imaginary gardens with real toads

Signals of Time

No, there are no signals

To mark the passage of time

It seems to hurry by

When I am busy

At work

Trying to solve

The issue of the day

I look up 

Time passes

Seasons change

Months and years

I have grown old

I can still hear

The sound of fog horns

On the channel

Arthur Dove’s painting

Wrinkles caress my face 

A map of where I have been

My hair thin and grey

The hair of my Grandmother

A soft silver cloud 

Floats around my head

In the mirror

A stranger 

Because of this passing of time

I am an unknown person

In an unknown land

Will Spring come again this year?

February 12, 2019

“Time,” wrote Thomas Mann, “has no divisions to mark its passage, there is never a thunderstorm or blare of trumpets to announce the beginning of a new month or year.” 

Fly to the Moon/the sunday whirl -- poets united poets pantry

Fly to the Moon

Take a chance
Don’t be shy
Ride a shooting star
Fly to the moon

Don’t let a misstep mar your day
Be sly
Hide (if you have to)
Let it all pass on by

Stand apart from the fray
Barter for a better day
Give your wishes credence
Chart your course

Get out your crayons
Make some marks
The rhythm of your life
Is the cadence of your own heart

February 10, 2019


Wordle 390:   

Chance, fly, shoot, star, shy, mar, sly, apart, barter, credence, chart, cadence    

Morning After/imaginary gardens with real toads

Morning After

Morning after

After what? you ask

A sleepless night

And what was the cause

Sometimes it is hard to tell

It seemed every nerve in my body

Was a jangle

No rest for the weary

Yes, I was tired

But there was something…

Or was it just my body

Running through the day

Or some “old something”

Revisiting the site

Did worry get the best of me

Sometimes it is hard to put your finger

On exactly what it was

The morning broke

The sun shining 

Silence is my companion

I am on the brink of beginning

Each new morning

A new beginning

The hands of the clock advance

February 7, 2019

On imaginary gardens with real toads, we were asked to talk about the present moment.

I Follow the "Light"/dVerse

I Follow the “Light”

I am a traveler

I follow the “light”

Of course, we cannot see “light”

But light allows us to see everything else

Artists have always come to Taos

Because of the “light”

The color is more intense

Goes beyond the eye

Touches the heart

Color welcomes us home

Color sets the mood

Color gives meaning

Color is changeable

Like water

It takes different forms

You may say

Yes, I have it just right

That is exactly what I want

Paint it down

And then paint the next color to it

It changes

We never experience color alone

It is always in relationship with other colors

I am a traveler

I follow the “light:

February 5, 2019

Zero Tolerance/poets united midweek motif/zero tolerance

Zero Tolerance

I put my foot down
You have gone far enough
Too, far
Your cruelty is larger than your ego

No one calls

Asks me how I feel

What I want

Who to toss

Instead I find myself

In an unknown forest

What happens…happens

without consultation

I find my way thought twisted brambles

Overgrown branches

Thick undergrowth

No trail to follow

I have my own tricks and manners

I will wait for you to catch up

Speak clearly

Thread the needle

See the signs

Time to step back

Get out of my space

Make amends

February 5, 2019

Mules and Mountains/ imaginary gardens with real toads tuesday platform

Mules and Mountains

You spoke of feeling like a donkey

And I was reminded of Susan Griffin’s

Book, Woman and Nature -- Mules

She begins, “We are the mules.”

The work we were bred for

The cleaning, nurturing

The raising of children

Cooking…calculating the measurements

It is said, we are not logical

The mule balks for no apparent reason

Suddenly we find ourselves in tears

Susan says, “…she is clumsy

With the dullness of labor.”

Form and function

Labor also has its’ grace

Grace, unnamed, invisible, surviving

I stand harnessed to the plow

I see the mountains

And remember

My burden is small in comparison

February 2, 2019

I have taken some of Susan Griffin’s words from her book, Woman and Nature, The Roaring Inside Her -- Mules.

A Long Cold Night/the sunday whirl -- poets united poets pantry

A Long Cold Night

The night is long and cold
The snow still on the ground
Temperatures low
A chill in the air

I swipe the slate clean
Wait for signals
Hints about what I am thinking
Can I touch the deepest part of me

The shy part
The part that remains hidden
The master of the files
Where each day is recorded

Becomes my past
Long strings of words
Wrapped around cylinders
Filled with people

I have known
Loved and lost
Like a gold mine
These saved words

Fill my poems
It is my history (herstory)
I will not be inhibited
Nor judged by my words

I am not on trial
I sit by the fire
No longer chilled
Words flow in the warmth
And the memory of summer

February 3, 2019
Wordle 389:    Night, chill, swipe, signals, hints, touch, shy, files, mine, inhibit, sitting       

The Turning Point/imaginary gardens with real toads/the turning point

The Turning Point

It is usually in hindsight

That I recognize

I have reached the turning point

And have gone past it

Usually it is outside myself

That it happens

The door opens

And without knowing

I walk through it

Colors are brighter

Sounds are softer

More melodic

Everything tastes brighter

The air is fresher

I am new again

The last turning point

Is behind me

It is not to say

There won’t be another

For who can say

Where each turning point resides

February 2, 2019