Saturday, November 7, 2015

November 7, 2015 Writers Digest November Pad Challenge/

Simmer Down

it takes time                        when it gets too hot                           to simmer down

sometimes people               tip over                                               lose control

say things                     in the heat of the moment     words which can not be erased

the editor has retired           words tumble from your lips               like wild banshies

make no sense                     still these things can happen               if we are not careful

as adults                              we are told                                           control your emotions

words can break hearts        break trust                                           break relationships

draw a line                           between what was before                   and what comes after

then there is silence              no words can break                            best keep the fire low

November 7, 2015






Friday, November 6, 2015

November 6, 2015 Writers Digest November Pad Challenge / I am Being Watched

I am Being Watched

perhaps it is just a feeling       that i am being watched              or is it watched over

and who would be watching   as i look                                       the universe looks back

in the eye of the gentle cow     in the eyes of the dog                 i see the walking stick

the walking stick                      he sees me                                  i see the wood pecker

he sees me                   the coyote quietly passes in the sage      i see him he sees me

we greet each other without words      when I see the crow        the crow sees me

in early morning                       the sun rises                                i see him

he sees me                      late in the afternoon                           the sun sets on the horizon

red, yellow and gold      we say good night             the moon appears above the mountains

night animals emerge                to hunt                                      in the moon light

i see them                                  they see me                               perhaps this is why

i feel i am being watched          in reality                                    when i see the universe

it sees me                                  the watcher that watches            watches over me

November 6, 2015

Note:  Day 6 Wrtiers Digest  November Pad Chalenge, prompt:  We are Being Watched.




Thursday, November 5, 2015

November 5, 2015 Writer's Digest November's Pad Challenge / Walking Stick

Walking Stick

i hang on the wall         next to the door             you might not know by looking

i am celebrating            i am here again this year             a walking stick i am

you can watch me for hours       and may not see a thing      i am a tawny brown

i celebrate my existence    i am a walking stick                  just hanging around

November 5, 2015




Wednesday, November 4, 2015

November 4, 2015 Writer's Digest - November Pad Challenge -- Day One, Two, Three and Four-- Poets United/A Quiet Place

The Behavior of a Small Child

it is something i like to do        a poem a day                   oops i forgot

and now it is the day after         the storm                        on times square

i really didn't mean to start anything      just trying to make a plan       someone took issue

began sputtering                        hissing                             snapping

speaking in such a disrespectful way       face all red        saying

i followed you thursday             and didn't say a word      interesting how

what we say                         and how we say it           speaks louder than the words spoken

you told me                          spending the day at the met           was not what you like to do

you aren't interested in art          you have no respect for me        i have seen this before

there was the day in my home    i had to ask you to leave            then the day in nikko

you were rude and disrespectful       your behavior                      is that of a small child

November 4, 2015

_______________________________________________________________________

Surrender

surrender                               my word of november                     it is necessary

to realize i have little control      certainly not over others            i have to surrender

allow others their experience      even if it is not mine                  it is hard to imagine

the people you love                     family                                        can turn on you

like dogs in a pack                      suddenly it is all your fault        their real

or imagined slights                     katy bar the door                   there is no holding back

they want to tell you                   how they feel                        all that you are guilty of

i did not join in the fray              it was as if i was outside             watching

i refused to respond                    still somehow                        it was all my fault



November 4, 2014

_____________________________________________________________________________

United/Divided

we have always been united       two peas in a pod                   sisters

life is long                                   life is short                             now we are divided

the remains of my fragile heart   rattle in my empty chest        i miss you

yet there were no crumbs scattered     the path of return           is lost

because i stood outside              as an observer                         your eyes glittered

hear your words                     and feel the pain of your actions       it is hard to believe

all that we have been                to each other                                        is now gone

November 4, 2015

______________________________________________________________________________



Once Upon a _____________

who knows where it took place       a historic sight                  a common meadow

a hospital bed                                  death comes to us all         a final goodbye

a good predictor                     of where it will happen              where do i go

what do i do each day                     where do i do it                  will i be aware

will i hear the bell toll                     will i know                         when i grow cold

my limbs become stiff                     when life leaves my body   or

when it is over                                 the day is done                   i will no longer know

November 4, 2015

Note:  I am writing a poem a day for the November Pad Challenge...I forgot, so this is my catch-up for the first four days.

_______________________________________________________________________________

Poets United

A Quiet Place

sometimes                             the calmness and peace                i seek

just out of reach                    i can see it                                     i know it

and yet i am accused             unfairly                                         treated badly

my brain in chaos                 unable to rest                                hard to quiet the voices

i get out the remains             examine what is left                     can find no answers

hard to think about               otherworldly                  perhaps there is another language

November 4, 2015










Saturday, October 31, 2015

October 31, 2015 The Sunday Whirl/ The Body -- Sunday's Whirligig/Missing You -- Poetry United Poets Pantry

The Body

the body       the keeper of all that we know             thoughts

memories     words stacked in little boxes          scratched on stones

hardened by fire      envelopes tied                     with blue ribbons

your name is there      feelings flow through veins       injuries weep

bleeding onto the pavement       a dusty chamber              blue

the heart beats            a search is made              a vessel waiting

October 31, 2015

__________________________________________________________


Missing You

house of glass                             wrinkled                               withered

transparent contents                     exposed                               secrets revealed

the sun shining                       the sound of a gong                 shadows dappled

wounds salted                    calmness in minutes after              jar falls from the shelf

rice scatters across the floor     plums spinning into corners      the hours that follow difficult

all is quiet                             the waiting begins                         words muttered

November 1, 2015







Not Just A Cup

  Not Just a Cup       Southern born Not a tea drinker Always coffee For me   Although I often find  Bitter taste Of the dark brew A bit muc...