Wednesday, May 24, 2017

A BOUQUET FOR MISS O'KEEFE --Poets United/flowers

     A BOUQUET FOR MISS O’KEEFE

yes, no one knew flowers         better than georgia        or how to paint them

make them look just like a woman’s “cooter”   and when called out     deny it

oh… she was a tricky woman      with wily ways           smart, crafty, cunning

and what a painter…                each flower                  she selected



she rendered it perfectly         with her skills              onto the canvas

intimate/personal                     tender                          miss o’keeffe

with her                                   lake george                   her new york city

her new mexico landscape            abiquiu                    the pedernal (which she 
                                                                                      painted so often, she said
                                                                                      god gave it to her)        



skulls and bones                       crosses in the desert      ghost ranch

the lawrence tree                      red poppy flowers         ranchos church

slightly open shell                     slightly open knees      lilies white and pink

jimsonweed, white flower #1     or devil’s snare            or angel’s trumpet



pink sweet peas                        mons pubis                  labia majora

labia minora                 clitoris/vaginal opening           deny it to her dying day

still…all there              for us to see                 a daring woman for her day…or any day

you would have to be blind not to see    the painter she was         a giant among artists

May 24, 2017                                     


THE COLOR BOOK


My book is available through Amazon.  It is poetry and paintings.

Saturday, May 20, 2017

THE PLACE OF THE RED WILLOWS/SUNDAY'S WHIRLIGIG #112 -- THE SUNDAY WHIRL #300

Sunday’s Whirligig  #112

            THE PLACE OF THE RED WILLOWS

today the red willows               dance along the river                move in the wind

i hear their songs                      back and forth                         back and forth

call and response                      cleanse the soul                        i stand lonely

waiting                         the hem of my skirt wet                        i remember

another time                             before the thief                        stole my heart  



i no longer beg for your love        i dial a number       it is not yours’

wrong number     confused              i rest in the shade of a large tree

at the river’s edge    i am an insomniac    hard to find the rest i need

i am the defender of my own castle    my sword polished       reflects the sun

i seek an advanced degree       life a college          the lessons can be difficult

May 21, 2017 




The Sunday Whirl  #300



            IN SEARCH OF HAPPINESS      

your message seemed stilted          cryptic          only three lines 

no trace of you                      no clues                                       i am left to wonder

we sang the chants         call and response           first your

                                                                              beautiful voice

then our response               the words unfamiliar          you fingered the
            
                                                                               scarf

straighten it        the color a flaming red             you run your fingers

                                                                                along the edge

we traveled together                 into a world of happiness         not the
     
                                                                               flimsy kind

but a durable happiness            it was a trip to remember          your  

                                                                                          face lights up with your smile

it is a journey         from which you never tire      in the end

                                                             there is a promise of sunshine         

                                                                                                                                                                                     

May 21, 2017 

                                   



                                                                                                                                   

                                                                       






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...