Friday, December 31, 2010

Flash fiction 55 12/31/10

As the crow flies
they live twenty minutes apart-

I stand watching
a man to the north,
sweep a big gray barn

and the man wearing a cowboy hat
to the south,
rides an Appaloosa.

If I brought them together
would they speak of more than horses ?
It is a matter of life and death.

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Magpie Tales.12/29/10

She liked to drive very fast-

When I found these gloves on the floor
it threw me back
into her very low
very fast car...

I knew how soft the leather was
before even touching them

I wanted the rabbit fur
against my skin;

but not the tightness
that would encompass
my hands

then run up my arms
to my heart
and crush me.

Monday, December 27, 2010

Microfiction Monday

They call this pristine?
it's not a natural setting anymore!
They either put the fence up
to keep kids from drowning
or dogs from swimming

Sunday, December 26, 2010


Written yesterday, but I had no time to post-

Predominantly white,
with gold highlighting blue
wishing peace to all people
and animals too- 

Evergreens, berries,
birds here and there
Outdoors and indoors
shaking off cares-

Bring wishes and hopes
smiles even prayers,
to Churches and houses
streets everywhere;

With gratitude draping
eachother we dare
to hope, hug and sing
all the love we can share

Monday, December 20, 2010

Microfiction Monday 12/20/10

"Man-o-man,there's no such thing as a quiet, still pig!
Good thing he's not greased. Hope I can hold on to him 'til we get to
Grandma's. "

Sunday, December 19, 2010

Poetry bus , "Star"

He was always driving
a small, rusty dusty car

came down our road mostly on Fridays
on his way to the farmers market.

He carried little jars of balm
made from herbs for scrapes and bruises.

One time he arrived in my yard
just as I was about to bury
a songbird found in the garden.

" May I ?"
He cradled the limp form
lifting it in both hands,

sound started from
the back of his throat,

moving into a chant
with movements of a well known ritual,

it ended with  humming
as he covered the little body with earth.

When I asked where this came from,
He said " Sta-her.

Far, far away
in a place
where sled dogs run."

Friday, December 17, 2010

Flash fiction 55 12/17/10

Sometimes we get to help
free a prisoner
who did not know
she was being held-

From a darkish basement
hidden behind curtains,
in her daughters house.

Bring her and her little dog
to a place,
with her own kitchen and bath

her own closet,
tables and chairs-
light pouring in
and friends reaching out.

Monday, December 13, 2010

Microfiction Monday 12/13/10

She dressed for the play, hating pink, the pinch of patent leather shoes

and rouge. Somehow the black lipstick kept a smile on her face.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Poetry Bus, 12/12/10

She loves
to cook and scatter herbs

above a turning plate
or steaming pot,

it lays scent out
and draws hearts in.

She loves to pinch
and spray tiny seeds,

rock hard shells
unpierced by wet
or temperature-

Stepping back on spiral stairs
she leads

up rocky paths
to sing with yellow birds

Can bring us to a lake
on corners of our world,

where elders wrap
colors around a fire,
to wait for stars and moon.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Friday flash fiction 55 12/10/10

Two weanling calves
uniquely checkered
black, splattered white,
one slapped by chocolate
all across his cheek.  

They hop and pop
twist and give a kick
surprise themselves,
with a grunt or little moo,

They've come to
tear it up!
I love to watch them
on a square of sturdy green
with shelter framed by trees.

Monday, December 6, 2010

Microfiction Monday, 12/5/10

Where are the sheep that are supposed to be keeping the grass down in this cemetery?
there were either holes in the fence or someones memory

Friday, December 3, 2010

Mag 43 ; Our Church 12/3/10

On Main Street
In a cold rain
I stare up at four tier staging
covering the front of our Church.
No workers today,

The circular Rose window
has been removed
honey plywood covers
its arch, under plastic sheeting
pinned on the grass
by rubble from inside.

I walk around the corner
where dark granite stones are grouped,
binary forms waiting for their numbers.

Half the face lies here,
white veins glowing.
old blocks, all from a local quarry
are not as square
as I imagine they would need to be.

I feel for my key
in a pocket and step up
to the side entrance.
The first light switch ?
it will be dark inside
I have no help from a flashlight.

Inside the reception hall
half our wooden pews
are facing toward the Sanctuary,
Two stout wooden columns
sit like pawns
with paneling flat in front of them.

The air is a mix of welcome
and sacred in disarray.
It is only temporary !
I murmur and turn
walking past the stage,
toward the rear stairs.

The bookstore
with many boxes of donations
have waited patiently
for our attention,
these last six months.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Drop down and go,

A river singing
over rock,

white bubbles flashing
popping into mirth,
under tones flinging fish aside.

Rough ride
deep tea brown
coursing from upstream,

leftovers from heat
of summer under trees.

Smoothing out into
plates of current
with roaming edges,

until ice forms
and tumbling debris
creates a fork

splitting, shifting boundaries
raking, taking more
with many claws

Monday, November 29, 2010

Microfiction Monday, 11/29/10

Stop King! go no further.
See all the huge horns ?
They only behave for her
because she knows what happens,
before what happens, happens -

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Poetry Bus, #1, 11/28/10

(Argument between self and Higher Power )

Here it is- Ample warmth and blue skies.
  Can we translate some of this, into ample coinage Please ?
Here: Creative and pleasant freedom-
    I've opened windows and doors...
Good friends, family.
    I do appreciate them thank you-
Health and energy-
    Wonderful, wonderful-
Peace and opportunity...
    I am passing on as much as possible; -may I ask you something ?
Intelligence- time,learning-
    Very helpful, Please-
Patience, forgiveness-
    Yes- Creator ?
Honesty, willingness-
    Please stop, a second or two !
Compassion, love-
    Indeed, I am so glad, HOW do I-
Generosity, kindness-
    So-you cannot listen-?
There, that will get you started...
    Too much raw material.
I'll be around-
   *SIGH*   -Love, laughter-
You too!

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Alphabet of Gratitude

Someone suggested keeping an ongoing
gratitude list this month. I strung mine together
and would attempt tuning it
to lower range notes because it feels like
that would be appropriate...However
I do not have a keyboard- Happy Thanksgiving!

Ask ample abundance, best breath of beauty
combining compassion and courtesy
for delivering divine devotion
essential essences of empathy,
flowers of faith and forgiveness,
grateful growth and giving heartfelt hope and healing
Instruments of instinctual inspiration
and joy, joy, joy-

kneeling, kindness and knowing, living love and light
making the most of miracles,
noticing noble nighttime
opening opportunities often
perfection of possible promises
quite,quiet questions

reflecting, reading and reaching
sober in singing sunlight,
thankful thoughtful touches
urging the unknown and unexpected
weaving wonderful and wise
in youthful yeses of yearning,
with zoo's of zest from zero !

Monday, November 22, 2010

Microfiction Monday 11/22/10

My dad shot that deer-
it hung in our den
but Mom hates it,
so he donated it
Eddy dressed it after school,
Hey-where are the sun glasses ?

Friday, November 19, 2010

Flash fiction 55 11/ 19/10

A large puffy hunk of bread,
the flow of sunlit clouds,
good firm handshake

An unexpected opportunity,
spontaneous laughter
uplifting music-

These images and a certainty arrived
as I lingered over a prayer
from a little book
a friend loaned me.

I had been reaching for
Gratitude; what I found
was an offering on Goodness.

Monday, November 15, 2010

Microfiction Monday

He would stand in the relentless sun
for the artist only a second longer
it was so infernally hot
inside the wool poncho and leather boots

Friday, November 12, 2010

Flash fiction 55 11/12/10

Nemali stood
her long thin limbs
short red hair flat

from her brothers aim
a bucketful,
 sticky and stiff with
rank aggression
of spiritual pride

Monday, November 8, 2010

Microfiction Monday 11/8/10

Drat, drat, drat! every step in the leaves made an echo.
Mummy was far ahead now. Nanna was right behind
as we trailed that wretched pony.

Friday, November 5, 2010

Flash Fiction 55, corner left from Bus ticket-10/5/10

Drinking water
from bending leaves
a coil and course
of throaty songs,  

tucked and folded
cool and long,
 passing over
wrapping 'round,

hammering silver
out and down
to find more voice in sea.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

The Tractor Hums Too

In the curve of an eye
there go I
wandering down the gravel drive
Yet I am still
stuck at this mill
of wood splitting;

you watch from the door
of the barn
 wondering more
about rabbits and cages
than I.

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Magpie Tales

A bound and folded stone,
a piece laid down
from an old newspaper obituary

'It is white' The witch thought
'To remind us of the bones
in Moonlight.'

Ne'er mind the dates of birth and death,
ne'er mind the name... 
'All has been boiled rightly
and placed where it will be 
seen the most'

Beware. She turns in sweeping
black, so much
a thin angled shadow

there is only a glimpse
of bent bristle on the tip
of broom, as she launches

a mere wisp of sound
for any mortal nearby
to sense.

Monday, October 25, 2010

Microfiction Monday


Will he ever come? Susan had enjoyed swimming and food;
now she just wanted to get to away from Buddy
and back to town for the Chess match.

Monday, October 18, 2010

Microfiction Monday 140

She thought looking downcast was appropriate
later maybe climb out a window,
cast a powerful spell-
or there was always poison in her ring.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Sunday 160

Acorn touchdown
crashing shattered
chewed open or smashed
in gravel,
a few nestled by earth
wrapped in leaves;
yet other nuts land
invisible silently vigorous

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Magpie Tales

"Yes sunrise, I am coming!"
Light a candle for the new day
Throw open the dutch door
as you hear the train coming into the valley,
On a clear morning you can even hear the rumble
of all the wheels,
Sound carries and purifies the air.
You wish for a good drum,
some brass handbells- anything
to match the hope of it.
Behind the door is your apron
you step aside to put it on,
and realize a yearning
for creative purposes;
raise your voice
" Bread and pies, here we come!"

Friday, October 8, 2010

Flash fiction 55 10/8/10

It used to be
a red and yellow suitcase
carryied my important life inside,

Then a neon orange back pack
complete with sleeping bag
and pocket knife.                 

For a while a car
with an air mattress
and tent rolled up inside,

Now a camper shades
our driveway
with a kayak by its side. 

Monday, October 4, 2010

Microfiction Monday 140

Rescue:From what you should not have done

From your curiosity

The dark of "No"

and that little key;

From the lie you built into marriage

Friday, October 1, 2010

flash fiction friday 55, 10/1/10 : Intrigue

A forest glade
undergrowth is cleared
enough to see
and ask
What are these massive trees?

walk, looking up
and down,
propped against one trunk
small figure, stuffed with hay and dressed in denim
no face drawn
or sewn.

Going around another base
a broom
stiff and tall .

Then, an ornate golden key.

What then?

Monday, September 27, 2010

Microfiction Monday 140

Not the tanker
memory was tugs-
with tires dotted all along the black hull
a cushion, something to grab
if you're where you ought not to be

Poetry Bus, Childrens Story.

Like a bronc sometimes,
I'll stick to Magic Carpets
Ripples and dips
and a few twists,
Dusty Mustard and Blue
over oasis, desert
we flew
in pursuit of wishes;
akin to rubbing that lamp!

Friday, September 24, 2010

55: Do you speak Moonlight ?

That full and favorite mirror
buttered silver
warming blue-

Light enough
to sled with friends

at Midnight
on a hillside pasture.

Or the splash in Spain
of a bejeweled swimming pool.

Laughing with friends
around a bonfire
on an open beach.

Wishing for riding horses
and long,shallow surf .

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

poetry bus /wedding

Breath and breath
swell, subside.

minds to heart
slow spiral stair

rise and deepen

one and one
blends to we.

Monday, September 20, 2010

Microfiction Monday 9/20/10

"Sam, where would we get the feed?" Sally asked.
"Mr.Joe has plenty"
"Wouldn't the wagon be too big?"
"Let's talk to the man" He squeezed her hand.

Monday, September 13, 2010


It was our merit
the deep stain of living ,
our pastor wanted
us to take.

Break your life apart
into each crimson,
green or orange piece

selfish, lies-
but good things too,
generosity can be a gorgeous blue-

then when you fit them
all back together

 you'll be lighter, brighter
by next week.

Saturday, September 11, 2010


   Fresh look and considerations: Paul Klee, Diaries.( 1898-1919). Dipped into it again today.
He has always struck me as fractal, breaking things down into elements. Components.
   When you read entries somewhat chronologically, there's a great deal of army, aviation, war,
travel; of course arts eye oversees it all and music underlies it.Some how it feels as if love and family
are set apart. Religion gets mentioned faintly.He did teach and enjoyed it. It seems as if much of the living was out of rented apartments, rooms. I have heard of that before and it makes sense with all the
movement, displacement...Life was so different then with 'Continental' habits, especially.
   He does some less linear 'squiggle'  sketches. It feels as though that was confusion, uncertainty-
His natural voice was more numerical. There is mention of nature, but a lot of architecture too. 
The cover sketch of a medieval city, with its wonderful flow and common threads. The Portrait
of his Father is amazing ! combining all attention to detail, completeness, shadows, light. He spared nothing on that one. It is dense, multidimensional, a real tribute.
    I have other books on him but this one really underscores the why's, how's and when-thens.
I love his work, he speaks in such a different manner and that is a good thing! He was introduced to me as a child, side by side with Miro. How wonderful an exhibit that was, Never-to-be-forgotten,
certainly life altering. I'm truly grateful. (Elsa DeBrun and Patrick Farrell took us with my Uncle to the Springfield Museum for it.) I will continue to explore them both, from time to time.

Friday, September 10, 2010

Reflection, 55 pie

Through four tall panes
of southern glass

Raising steaming coffee
to the morning sun,

pulsing in trees
more and more yellow

landing with green   
deep blue mingles above

brightening to azure;
these swipes of color  

uncoil on paper: a far away tune
becomes a closeup eye   

hues tilt on a shape
for the banner outside.

Monday, September 6, 2010


   Cannot seem to write for 55's or Poetry Bus. Deleted both.
Lots of good things to report, just not happening yet...
Ahh well, sometimes 'Time takes time',
   Anniversary came and went. My sponsor is having a rough time, Deaths
traipsing heavily around and about... This too shall pass- I just wish I could ease her
burdens.So I pray-
   We have been coping with our garden, lots of beans,a few tomato's;
very grateful for what we have gotten.
   Did get to a Sober fest- VERY loud music,wonderful blues band that I actually
got up with some girls and danced to!  Attended an Alanon meeting, just what I needed.
   Off to work now, Labor day is not in thought only but a fact.Wish we could generate some cash.
See y'all- be well!

Monday, August 30, 2010

Back to School -Poetry Bus

More art ! more writing !
and drat it all,
I will have to have:
a slice of computer tutor-

(No grey haired Marm
or Nun for me,)
Find someone with
formulaic understanding -
a dyslexic PHD...

Everything is memorized
ingrained and stained;
because this disability is
WORSE than learning
Algebra or Geometry,
worse than Greek!

THEY: will be able to explain
everything I need
to follow in the world of Links,
dissolving the lock out
( until the rules change again)
between you and me!

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Poetry Bus: Vera and the Dang Dog

Vera and the dog
the dang dog,

Vera and the dog
went out to play-

The dog and the ball
The dog and the stick,

Vera and the dog,
and the ball and the stick !

Vera and the dog
the brown dog,

Vera and the dog and the stick!

Round and round-
up and down,

Vera and the dog, all day!

Friday, August 20, 2010

The art of barefoot -55

Slap them babies down,
on pedals,boards or sand,

No tripping, splinters or stubbing toes
just grass or scratch an itch on rougher rock.

If slim or sturdy ankles rise from there
some decorate with colored inks,

pearls, or gold,   
others like to paint their nails

long or short I'll take
mine brave and bold

Monday, August 16, 2010

Private and not so private,

scratching or folded
paring food, or spread over skin;
his ego has fascinations focus
in palladium tones.
Over and over
Private promises
to shapes and  suggestions;
hands speak for the body
only momentarily unattached.
                                                       (Stieglitz and O'Keeffe)

Friday, August 13, 2010

Trying to decide -55

How one would feel about
meeting a Hindu Avatar,

particularly a female one.
Ecstatic for pilgrims ?

She greets thousands a day,
as if each were the most important
and unique .                     

Expansive and transforming,
Divine flows hour after hour.

If acceptance were all
you could cope with

not an embrace 
would it be light and lemony ?

Friday, August 6, 2010

First I want to say-55

I am always grateful to guru's
who write books

I am grateful to students who
write books about Gurus     

My baby steps in Spiritual development
stands staring at this carrot

dangling next to a kayak,
space ship and  Bus.     

Do I launch into the ocean,
space, or Bus ?   

today I will glide
casting no shadow.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Rest, in (tidy) pieces

Diving in: and zig-zagging along a tree line,
sewing up fragments and shadows,
tucking them all in my basket.

It has been a high-low week.
You could wring water out of paper today,
I wrote four pages of a letter to
someone of importance...

My irritability comes and goes
(with weather and time)
The garden needs attention, laundry is waiting
and my 2 dogs need vet visits I can hardly afford.

That is only the tip-of- it.
Yes, a mini 4 would help...
so I will do what is needed.
Hopefully my sharp tongue will
settle its quarrels with the external world
and the attic will be swept clean once more.