Saturday, April 30, 2011

Day 255, word association

Zebra stripes

Friday, April 29, 2011

Day 253, a lilting sun

Gentle, mellow, golden
joy, laughter, giggles
more, more, more
warmth invading coldest place
a lilting sun warms my face
what worries could invade
what coldness could ever thrive
in the heat of a gentle sun
so tender my heart is won

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Day 253, finding and losing

In the searching we
seldom find the thing
we thought we had in mind
it's a flexing of futility
this look and find
no! wait and see
saw living, that's what
this is, a give and take
or take what's given
all the same, it's all
called living, all the
same this see saw living.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Day 252, migraines :(


She's a wicked little warden
screaming "stay, STAY!"
physically, mentally, spiritually
locked up you fight and
flail the bars of pain that trap you
then you release your own will
and just lie, complacently lounge
miserable in your discomfort
irritated with its limitations
then whether sleep, pills or
mercy bail you out, you rally
you are free but worse for the wear.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Day 251, the see saw poem

Feeling stranded


Monday, April 25, 2011

Day 250, the challenge of ease


Easy ain't easy, I'm just saying...
easy is an art, the mastery
of taking difficult things then
presenting them in a way that
makes someone go, "oohh,
that looks so easy!" It ain't
easy like Sunday morning,
over easy eggs are frigging hard
and the phrase "easy-peasy" well
that just means I botched the whole
thing but I really don't care. An easy
delivery, just means it didn't kill you
 and you might do it again
an easy move, same thing...
an easy marriage, hah!
the easy way out, that never works.
it's like this poem, I find poetry
well, not to contradict, but easy
and this one was "easy-peasy"
for sure, baby! Take it easy now :)

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Day 249, provocation

It was a simple provocation
apple, orange, who cares?
silly stories aren't silly stories
when they paint a picture so real
a girl whose good enough is never
good enough, she wants more,
more, in addition to all things
at her feet she'll take divine knowledge
like a shopoholic with no room to store
the bounty, she buys up this and that
just to have more of something she
can't really consume. Suddenly she is broken
despairing, but not sorry, never really.
It just doesn't work out, she can't swim the tide
on her own, flooding just drowns her, there is no
restoring, she'll never be anything like what she
was supposed to be. So why does she cry, "Save me!"?
It must be that fear thing, that needy insecure thing
it could never be because she needs saving, her brilliant
mind is far too brilliant for that type of need. She's
good really, sweet and kind in all the ways she can
face you that is. It's her secret self she won't bare,
the fig leaf of hidden thought her covering, she lives
in that false midnight. She'll dig up every old habit,
old boyfriend, old feelings, old hurts, anything that
felt other than now, she'll recussitate any old thing
like an ER doctor with electrode paddles
she is desperate for these things to breathe.
the right exercise, diet, clothes, a good book
she scurries around playing god, snacking on
the forbidden fruit of perfection, just one more
bite from everything she has ever wanted
bringing life to death, she has too much intelligence
to believe a man can die and come to life, so she
breathes life into things that never lived at all, yes,
that is it, she's the goddess of wishful thinking,
bowed at the alter of wishes lost, her self appointed
deity a flimsy gauze covering her wounds.

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Day 248, when time stops

It's that minute when you call 911
or the doctor calls with bad news
or you turn on the television to find
a terrorist attack, it's the two a.m.
phone call that you never wanted to get
that's when time stands still
because you can't go back, it does no good
and forward feels false and painful
so you stay wrapped in some bitter truth
cacooned in the safety of a reality that
does not change, a tenacious clinging
to time, a desperate denying of the things
you once knew, that's when time seems
immovable, that's when you feel the death
of something most, when you can't feel
the future, when it becomes a dark stranger
that's when time stands still.

Friday, April 22, 2011

Day 247, some 2000 years ago

Some two thousand years ago
no matter what you held to
no matter who you prayed to
a man lie dying on the cross
there was retching and pain
cursing, jeers meant to kill
in case the nails didn't
somewhere in the city was
a mother rubbing damp
corn silk hair with her calloused
palms a wife looked longingly
at a husband who looked at her
but didn't look at her somewhere
in that town someone was sick
enough to die but refused
still he suffered on the cross
and whether they knew him as
Rabbi, master or blasphemer
the earth shook and the brilliant
sky fell dark. Disciples and loved
ones scattered, their hopes nailed
and dead. They would regroup
and no matter what it is you
believe they left him and wondered
what on earth was next, wondered if
there was a next
they feared for their own lives
questioned their choice, maybe,
doubted their results, most certainly
and no matter what you hold to
they fled, Jesus died and on that particular
Friday, that black sky, earth shattering
day something changed drastically
though on that exact day
no one knew just what

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Day 246, cannabalism

There are days I feel
like a famous explorer
stepping off my ship
to stroll around some
new Utopia and days like
today where I am quite
the opposite. A ship wrecked
wench on a deserted island
only it's not without it's people
natives grab me and tie me up
bring me to the center of their
village with joyful grunts
I hear the cannibals drum coming
It's been that kind of day
I am sorry to say.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Day 245, your name is a tattoo

Tattooed Soul

Your name is a tattoo on my soul
stitches of golden thread that sew
up the fibers of my soul. Who would
I be without you? I'll never know, now.
Your name leaves me in jagged breaths
and sullen smiles. I'd call it pain but
I love it too much, this knowing you.
a courteous sort of grief envelopes
your memory and I'm floating atop
some puffy solace. Never mine and
always mine, your name is a curling
wave, a salty shower spraying
me with its might and its mercy.

The sunshine and surf blur the distinction
of tears and spray, thankfullness and mourning
the mark of your name a graying ink
that an ocean of days will not erase.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Day 244, crushed rose petals

The Aisle and Blessings

My blessings are red
rose petals underneath
the brides feet
they lay there
to glorify the path
why so bruised and
crushed must they be
to smell so fragrantly,
why then do they smell
so painfully sweet?

Monday, April 18, 2011

Day 243, anxiety

I don't know if I have it in me
it's so much, it's all too much
Am I to run this race or did
I wander onto a course I wasn't
meant for? Lord, show me what
to do. How to slow down. How
to release this life to you, give you
my burdens because I am honestly
overwrought and this
can't be, all the chaos is competition,
a choking vine, for my peace.
So it's yours and I'm sorry for the mess
it's all yours and I'm anxious instead
to see what your capable hands will do.
To see what your loving hands will do.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Day 242, having boys

I have two boys
all together boys
not quiet, not unsure
but full throttle boys
lovely boys
wild boys, "let's not
brush our teeth" boys
"can we stay up late" boys
stinky feet and proud of it boys
"no I'm not tired" boys

a man child is a good child
to drop lunch meat down
a crawfish hole with
or race a car with or
watch a fishing show with
because they're boys
all boy, make no mistake
about it, completely boy.
That's my boys.

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Day 241, your favor please

God's Like the Cafateria Lady

Lord, your favor please
and blessings while your at it
I'm always in the mood for desert
I must make you feel like the cafateria lady
hair wrapped in netting, plastic gloves
all for my protection, all for my nourishment
but I don't look you in the eye, I turn
to the boy next to me and make faces
at your soupy mashed potatoes
I stand in that buffet line happy to be fed
but I don't want the food, I want the cookies
at the end. You pile up protein, carbs,
vegetables, I gag and whine.
What kind of food is this?
What kind of cook are you?
I bet you watch me from that line
I bet you see me garbling up my cookies
and nothing else, I know you do.
The lunch lady was wise, humble and tired
and I bet if you were to go home to her house
she would love cooking for you, I bet
she makes the best cookies ever,
but I'll never know, I'm too busy
scoffing at my little acrylic plate
to notice your kind face, or smile at you

more an animal at its trough than
child blessed to be fed.

Friday, April 15, 2011

Day 240, I got nuffin

Nuffin on my mind
Nuffin. And that's fine.
Cause nuffin feels so good
As nothing would.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Day 239, bridezilla

To Erika, you will be a lovely bride! Welcome to the world of contradiction:) Weddings are trainings for real life. I'm not a romantic.We fall in love with ideals but marriage is a commitment to stick with reality. Bear with one another. Weddings are prep work, starter fluid for the real flame, not the romantic, sparkler kind but the one with old newspaper wafting around in it. Messy but warm. Hard to control but sustaining. No lambs allowed :)

Lion and Lamb

Out walks the tigress cub
first straying from her den
she has all the fierceness of a kitten
all the tenderness of a predator
in training. She spies a valley
a tender young ewe lamb
and admires it's gentleness
the meek little puff of helplessness
so calm and unassuming
it makes our little feline's claws
vibrate and hum with appreciation
and appetite. For she is hungry
Her purr is steady, satiated, happy
to observe, for now. There will
always be a piece of her that
wants to be like the lamb
there will always be a piece of her
that wants to devour that lamb
and on realizing her first moral dilemma
she learns what stalking is
what it's like to pursue that which we crave
to devour what delights us.
Predator and prey.
Bride and wife.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Day 238, quickening

A flutter
An indiscernable
Movement, the subtlest
Evidence of a new existence
A fragile strength
That does not fail to
Overcome us.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Day 237, the ticking sound

Tis a ticking sound
Goes round and round
All the day I'm here
Worries me, disconcerting
Thing this ticking sound I hear
Or is it a dripping sound
A leaky something near
I can not see it but swear
To you I hear it in thine ear
I hear it much like Edgar Allen
Must have done and wonder am I sane?
I hear the cursed ticking, dripping
Tick and drip. Again and again
Till then I spy a giant clock
And wonder is it he?
For though my time seemed
Quite frozen it ticked along for thee.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Day 236, the twinkle is gone

You see it in your kids as they get to a certain age, that twinkle you adore, fading, being overwhelmed by everything surrounding them. Then like lightening, like the dawn, it is back and you find yourself worrying, for how long... for how long. Oh, to keep them younger longer!!! This isn't a sad thing, just a fact of growing up and that constant battle as a parent to encourage that exact process while at the same time preserving a taste of the old innocence.

The Fickle Flicker

His eyes twinkled
loud and lovely
they sang of trust
whole love and wonder
but then begins
the sleepwalking march
of pride, insecurity
self awareness
abstract thought
all of it becomes an
electrical storm
and you see it
eyes twinkling, bright
glittered with trust
darken like a power surge

fickle flickers
on and off
dim and bright
dim and bright
I do not want the
simplicity of faith,
his child like wonder
to cease but how to
generate, connect
supply a current
that is so ever

in my own soul.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Day 235, krakatoa

Krakatoa and Tea

So what if life is
like a little tea party,
blanket spread atop
Krakatoa? The tea
is just as sweet,
the timing though
more urgent, hard
to indulge or enjoy
waiting for the explosion
I suppose I could move
to some safer valley but
the view, my great God
the view! How could I
tip my pot in any other
place and look you
honestly in the face
its smokiness, it's
echoes a certain peculiar

flavor I can't resist.

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Day 234, motion

Splattered, covered
Painted white, the faster
I go the more I wear it
I am moving, painting
Doing a something that
Cleans a something that
Was filthy, it's motion
With purpose and it feels
Tremendous, tremulous

Friday, April 8, 2011

Day 233, married filing jointly

Funny day to do your taxes
figuring out my duty to
the government, the nation
at large, my little portion,
all of that, the same day
the government threatens
to shut down, boggle our
economy and cripple
our employees.
I'm unimpressed.
Thoroughly irritated.
Holding paychecks
hostage for votes? Really?
No way to circumnavigate
the problem, eh?
Your clever little vitriol
is like lava and ashes
falling on our heads, your
political Pompei your 

very own burial.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Day 232, overthrowing the czar

it's when I feel like
kneeling, praying
praising, that sudden
burst of joy
lighting on my heart
that's when I know...
He's overthrown my
inner czar, a spiritual
coup has eroded my
authority and my soul
celebrates the temporary
end of it's enslavement
free to savor the fruit
all of me is toppled
except my ability to
open doors for him
my humbler heart a servant
my pride His plunder

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Day 231, And hello to you

Hello little friend
Your see saw song is
Enchanting, lost it, found it!
Lost it, found it!
Bless your feathered heart
Your temerity is a gift
Over cars and wind, my own thinking
I hear you lost, looking
Found, rejoicing
You are a happy little beast
Whose reminding me to lighten up.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Day 230, pearl

At our church we are blessed to have the best chic I know as our womens minister. This poem is for you Dr. Deb Douglas. Luv ya!


She is but one grain of sand
an irritant to the mollusk mouth of time
Not coincidentally placed
but divinely appointed.
A granule of wisdom and
an ivory coated blessing.
A Pearl.

Monday, April 4, 2011

Day 229, dark of day

Charcoal clouds innundate
The daylight, their smokey dust
A blanket of densest grey
No sun, no light
Yet, I know it's day
I woke to an auburn glow
Breathed in the stifling heat
Of dueling fronts
Static pops, lightening bolts
Thunders cry and steady
Curtains of rain all part
Of mother natures melting tensionS

Sunday, April 3, 2011

Day 228, Zip it

Don't worry, I'm over my bad mood but I had one yesterday, sure did, and today I am going to take care of myself, treat myself to something calming. I've got the privelage of a husband who considers it his honor to be with our boys and that is indeed my good fortune today! I mistreat that poor man but he tolerates me well. Love you Sean.
Hush Your Mouth

Dude with the positive attitude
"Zip it!" yeah,
you heard me. I am not in
that kind of mood, I am cranky
and tired and not optimistic
"Get it?" hush with your plattitudes
and riddle me this, "What's wrong
with a good bad mood every now and again?"
Nobody said you had to stay, matter of
fact bad moods are designed for solitude
and I'd like some, "Now!" It's not

personal and I'm not the devil's spawn
I'm just tired and irratable and need to vent
and then veg and then, sweetheart, your
Frankenstein bride will be gone. Swear.

I love you, too. :)

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Day 227, mellow joy

Mello Joy

I miss it
The casual cool
of home and coffee
cartoons. I need it,
want it, my own floor
my own bed, a special
spot to read and write in
I've an actual ache
and I've learned I do
love home, I've come to
know that I survive without
it and that resting in a
place not of your own making
is not restful but a mad
working, a stretching,
growing, taffy like knowledge
a sweetened relaxing of our needs
and wants.

this stuff best work!

Friday, April 1, 2011

Day 226, I'm most like a penguin...

It's a crumbling world
An avalanche of this and that
Landslides aside
Footing is tricky
Footing is impossible!
I bellyslide like an
Arctic penguin, a firmly fixed
Starting point and vague ideas
Of a landing place. Of course slide into
The deep blue and your majestic.
Slide into a berg, feathers flying
And your a piece of the Darwinian debate.
A thoroughly evolved moron.
Deep blue where are you?