“Masterpiece”
Today
Was a day of
Black
And
Brown
And
Gold
Leaves
And
Fairies
Flying about the
Undergrowth.
Today
I pushed
Higher
Harder
Faster
Than Ever
Before.
Today
I reached
A new limit
Tomorrow
Another
I am walking
Fast as an eagle
Hard as the rain
My voices
Are heard
In the flapping wind
Far away
Something utters
A mournful—
What?
What
These words
Are diamonds
Water
Fistfuls of pebbles
Streaming through
My hands
I knew thow first
Words not—
I know them
Yet I know not
Their meaning
What are these
Words
Softly
In the dusk
These tepid
Murmuring
Seas
Are so far hence
So long
Ago
We cannot
Forgive
Them
Because
we cannot
remember
from whence
they come
words
speaking
through me
like
deep
fresh
water
Do you love these words?
Faraway an Island
Remote in the Wilderness
A Strange Sound
Earth
Wind
Grows Softly
A feverish
Twisiting of
Arms
The miraculous pulling
Of the wind
In dust.
Strange fitful rhymes
Strange pallor of the
Motionless
Dense
Dim
Treachery
Armfuls of cotton
Never Forgive Them
Tell them I came
And that I was here
Tell them
A bird sang from remotely
In our past
Tell them
We were lost
And afraid
Tell them
I never was
Tell them
I begun
But never finished
Tell them please
That they are not
What they seem they are
Tell them
Not to get lost.
It is sheer rock—
It is a long harsh peal
It is strange laughter
It is far away
And lost
It is
Not finding
No
What
It is far away
Long ago
I wrote
A story
And now
I am lost
In the winds
Of my words.
Hallelujah!
What
I don’t know
A crack in the distance
A breaking twig in the
Jungles of glass.
It is a forgotten
Song…
It Is
Called
Getting lost
All you have to do
Is look up.
////
Laughing
Silently
Fumbling
We go down
into the rocks
Still waters
Run deep
And rivers
Sing sweetly
And deep rivers
Move slow
And the heat
Of the air
In that place
Stifling
Wretched
Place
Breaks my heart
When in an uproar
The pain
Gave way
To new life
Will a part
Of me
Of you
Of I
Will it die
Wherefore have i
Lost the works
Why do I not
Look
Why ceased hence
To reach
For the dream
Why are am I
Lost
What happens
To us when
Or after
We die
Why am I
Lonely
Or not lonely
I am
Always
Alone
Yet there is
Deep water
A pilgrim
Traveler
Weary soul
He is resting
Neath my wings.
Pilgrim, Soul, Little One,
Soft, Hard, Wet, Dry,
Earth, Sea, Wind, Sun
Cloud, Death, Earth
To These Mysteries
Ice Blasts upon these
Iniquities I dare not
Nay to express
Laughing in the rain
And love in the mist
And predawn coffee
Warms the blood
Predawn soul,
Glowing chambermaiden,
Pretty heart
Pretty seashell
Raindrops on a cloud
Newborn daffodil
Sweet candy
Apple red
Pomegranate, marigold
Goldfish, grapefruit.
Amen Lord./////
The Sun and the moon
And all the stars,
In a basket,
Scrambled eggs
My pretty baby
Oh pretty baby mine
Thou art coming
One some day
Sooner or later
Pretty little one
With soft velvety
Earlobes
And rain
And fuzzy hair
Like a chick.//
Faraway I am losing you
It is a long time ago
And yet it is far distant
Marry me!
Chocolate, hazelnut,
Blueberry, wine,
Pomegranate, maple leaf,
Sugar, lemon, thyme
America, Austin,
Lonely as a cloud
Long distant strangers
Now.
Eclipse or
Hidden by
The moon
Or shadow
Of the earth
Oh infinity horrible
I know a little
I know of dark abyss
And the end of all
Hope and meaning
I know all of stars’
Terrible fevers
The lampposts of the darkness,
The shadows moving in the deep.
Long have I pondered those
Mysteries—oh, a little while—
Yet I at this moment perceive
Our world outnumbered by
Darkness
Life is a miracle
The human brain is
The most complex
Thing we have found
In the universe
Oh, terror, oh
Endless night—
I am frightened
By the vastness
And ignorant to
Blatancy through a
Straining sterility
Of science
But free of
Fear.
Amen Lord Jesus.////
“Theater”
Dawn Breaks
On the horizons
Of my life, of time,
A gate, door, entry opens
And I step onto a stage
And I start
To sing
Or
Do I forget all the words
And stand there, bashful,
Gesturing, ashamed?
“Thoughts”
Guacamole
Is good
Good with chips
Good on a sandwich
Good in a salad too
So is rice—
God, my cat’s run
Wild
All night she
Just wants to
Stay awake
In the wilderness
Up high
On the porch
Right here
She must be
Bored.////
“Gimme a Light”
I have no light
I have-
--No=
--light—
So what, you mean you can’t
See, or something?
No, and I don’t want to.
I can’t sleep. I
don’t want
To have another dream.
In the darkness I can see—
I can’t see anything up here.
Or down,
Or anyway. Anywhere—no,
I can see nothing anywhere.
/What’re you going to do?
I said, Look Mister, see
--I Need—
--a—
--light!—
////
Weary hours
On the thresholds
Of consciousness
Slaying me,
Love now, this,
This slaying,
Or something—
Anyway, it was Big!
Really damn big
You know it was about
The biggest one I ever
Seen in my life.
What was it?
A Shark.////
So I said to the nurse,
Or waitress, or whatever,
I said,
“Give me my wine”
The grape juice was
Sickly,
And I swallowed
A handful of
Horse pills.
Damned paper cup
--the cup the pills were in—
--water.
Some of it
Wouldn’t go down,
Just stayed there
All sideways
Like it was making
Fun of the way
I had a knot
In my throat
Already.
Damn it!////
“Sense”
There is evidence for God
In sentience—
In awareness
Of reality
Through
Our senses.
Helen keller
Was deaf and blind,
But she too
Had a life, joys,
A reality.
You could say,
God Gives Us That Reality
Through our five senses,
And the reality of, it is
Of life
Ourselves
Our world,
This—this the
World,
The world—
Earth—
Our minds,
You could say—
God gave us them.
They are our gifts to
Live
Lives
In
The
World.
We are
Alive.
To me,
that is a gift from
A God, The God,
Of Eternity.//
“On God”
There is only one God,
Or everything has a God,
Or guardian angel guarding it,
Or a soul.
Every-thing, I believe,
Has
All these
Soul, God, Lord Of It, and Gaurdian
Angel guarding it.
Karma is virtuousness
We have only
To harness
The “winds”
Our souls’
Guides
In lifetimes---
To find magic, healing, divinity,
The contact with God—
In which,
By seeking it,
We can speak to God,
Angels—
Our Souls,
And then, perhaps, as it
Has for me;
The possible blurs with
The impossible.
God is this Gift.
There is only God Almighty.
Then, under angel’s wings,
Does your felt soul
Know, you are, you become,
His Child.
Oh, Worship him! For The Lord is
Goodness Itself.////
“Time”
“Theodore, you’re getting old!”
At least
That’s
What ill tell him
Next time
I get a chance
I’m getting old, too,
But I can’t tell.
I look and feel
So young,
But I’m 24.
Theodore is 32.
And he looks
So young
But,
He has a
Secret smile-
-Lines under his eyes
They are so beautiful!
“The Sea.”
Outside our window, on the porch where we garden,
Is a world.
The trees sway
We are in the treetops of the maples,
2nd story,
We are in the city
We are a family
That road out there,
That road,
Is, It’s ocean.
It is deep blue ocean.
Or is it a stream, leading into
Meandering river
That never ends.
Roads never end,
They are a circle.
They are everywhere.
They connect us
To the Whole.
We Are The Whole.////
“Fossils”
I have,
In my collection
Some stones
From—
--the Sea.////
“The Sea.”
Was the sea so old,
Did, it cry,
Is it angry,
Why aren’t the stones turned to—
--to sand?
Is that Evil?
Is the sea adrift on earth?
Is it encroaching on the land,
Is it—
Is it, moving?
The Sea,
Is it angry?
Is the Life Under The Sea Surface
Is it Good?
Is it Scary?
Why is it Separated from us?
On land—
The Sea,
Is it God?
Is it angry?
I fear the sea,
From deep in my mortal
Heart—
In my life I have
Dived
And my sea-wisdom
Eerily
--terrifying
We like to drive
In our cars
To the bare edges of the sea
And it is gentle,
So Gentle To Us!
And we all
Bask
In eternity.
There the sea
Is God.////
Love And Illness in the Time of Hiding, I.
“Marry Me!”
Stop Asking.
Please?
Laughter./
Love And Illness in the Time of Hiding, II.
I’m lost,
I’m lost,
I’m
I’m losing you/
Love And Illness In The Time OF Hiding, III.
Ir’s a nervous condition….
I see.
Stop taking those pills!
Then you’ll get well.////
“Free Will”, or “On Hearing Voices”
“Do you understand
That you and I
Are One?”
Whispers a thought
In my heart.
As I am writing on
The liberation
Now, very now, of—
My mind.
And the recovery
Of my will.
This now when
My thoughts
Are
My own
Again
After so long—
Seemingly losing your free will—
But feeling The same—
Is an eerie feeling.
It is scary and sad
It is also a miracle
You feel like a fool
The future is terrifying
You Pray.
You just pray
When your thoughts
Become your own again,
You are always
Uneasy
Uncertain
Afraid
Of losing
Some kind of
Control
In there.
You pray.
---But, I never really
Lost my free will…see,
I lost all
I lost nothing
I was there in bed,
Thinking,
--but half my thoughts
Were not
My own.
Voices droned on
In timelessness—
--void.—
I never even trembled
In my heart
It was just as though
I saw my shadow
And we spoke
To one another for
A long time
And it remained present
All of my life—
Now my shadow
Changes form
It walks right
Beside me
In my head
It makes me wonder
About my sanity.
But I never change---
Me, The woman my husband
Married five years ago---
Me, I have a strong personality
And a sound mind---
If you dim the lights
The shadows are gone—
That’s medications---
And when I have my medication,
It’s only me in my head,
Alone,
Just fine!
As always
Naked
And
Trembling
And alone.////
Amen.
“Halloween 2011”
Peonies
Poplars
Maple Trees, Fall, Autumn coming
In a few months…Chris and I will
Walk through the leaves, the golden
And yellow and red, apple red,
Green and brown mottled leaves
Eating Halloween candy.
Chocolates, M&Ms, Milk Duds, Snickers Bars…
Lots of chocolates!
We will
Carve pumpkins and put them out
On the porch with candles in them.
Oh Lord! I do so look
forward
To the Fall! Although
Summer is
Wonderful. For
Halloween, we are going
To dress Ludwig up as a bat or an
Mugs of Coca Cola
Halloween, with its
Candy,
Candy Corns
And Bats
And a kitten.
Babym
And my
Boyfriend Theodore smiling,
Laughter. We are
Full of laughter.
And good cheer.
Happy Halloween!
“Warm Up, Dawn.”
In Pre-dawn darkness I rise
The sins he has not, will not, commit,
Life is God, God rests in warm Joy,
Joie De Vie! The Joy of Life, in the French.
Longing ebbs; if- if I do not long then I
Pine, for what I do not know,
My life is answered,- I am in love and have
Long been;
Now in cool last days of summer, the lord
and I gather leaves,
fruits, butterflies and
cicadas into our hearts;
We are the proud—
Ah, Lord, What a World!
“Autumn Harvest”
Now is end of late summer,
It is September.
There are pumpkins growing in the garden.
There are sunflowers half-high.
The sweet pea crop is fruitless.
The morning glory vine will not grow.
The basil grows like icicles—that is, very slowly.
A hummingbird passes by.
We are Surrounded by City,
Two Cities on either side.
Shrill Jungle across the street.
Factories surround us.
We are desperately outnumbered!
“Clumsily”
Clumsy Poetry startles the dawn hours,
I rest my eyes on my bed.
Life and live are my portion.
“Art.”
It is true that in art, all artm
There is perfect freedom.
It is true that there are
Principles of Design.
It it true that my wisdom is deep
From meditation and serenity.
If so, if it is—
I exhume wisdom unto God,
Unto Me.
But of Art; there is laughter, agony,
Illness—what of these?
What of tales?
Art is a Gift From God.
Above All, Let us
Remember That
In All Things.////
Amen.
Pre-Dawn Hours.
Theodore, in the mornings
you rise in the
Dark in thick
4AM night. You
Check your Alarm,
I am snoring, drooling, and I
Usually don’t wake up.
If I did, I would serve
you a cup of warm
coffee
with milk and tons of
sugar in your plastic
Hot Spot Mug With
the Black Handle
That Fits into
your car Cupholder.
I would boil you a sausage
Or some bacon
And wrap it tight in two
Pieces of bread with an egg
And a piece of cheese.///
“Growing.”
The Lord asked of me, HE said,
“I cannot be with you anymore.”
“What can I do?” I asked.
The little leaves of lettuce that were
Speaking in the breeze
Pointed up at Zhanna’s
Rose, the most beautiful
Rose Of All.
“I See It,” I Said.
“Do That,” Said God.
“Can You
Do What That Rose
Is Doing For Me?”
“Yes,” I Said. “I
will Try.”
I thought I might paint a rose
to understand
I will look at the rose
And try to be like the rose.
THIS IS THE FIRST POEM I EVER WROTE:
“On Love and War And Poetry”
Love and War are Together.
They Feed one another
Poetry is a snowflake,
Or a minnow
Or a bit of mist,
Or a well of stones over which water
Falls,
Cold, icy cold waters of the metaphors
Beyond time, penetrating death,
Stonesm blue, green and like eggs,
Full of life, Full of the knowledge
Of death, Full of secrets.
Love is like an arrow flying through
Air, slowing or is it speeding up? It
Is a flame, a fire, a lust, an intention,
A desire. Love is a
needing and above all,
Love is freem and love is alive!
Love is alive, poetry is the music of
Cold water on stones in darkness,
Love is the arrow flying in the war.
War is dumb, huge, unforgotten,
War is a hurricane, a raging fever,
War is the throbbing heart on a sick
Bed. War is fear, but
where there is
Love there is a war and love Battle,
My love and I are At War;
What Time Have We For Poetry?
Yet, Constant as A Well, as thought,
Even thought. Sure as thought,
Sure as the self we
rage for, is
Poetry.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~THE
END~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~