Thursday, December 29, 2011

FF55, 12/30/11 Chess and Checkers

The Whole Shebang
shh- shh shake
the square quilt out

in colors of wind and rain
a year of rush and wait,
a shh-shh shake

lives which tumbled were unexplained -

A time for faith on dotted lines
tense, alert, for a leap of change
and when it came
south flipped north

even blessings were rearranged !

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Mag 97, 12/27/11 Flare

Image: Bert Stern                                        

On a slab
frozen rigid
too full, too bright.

Buried in laughter,
and cascading glitter,

she waves zealously
at the troops.

Did she survive-
a child asks worried,
or die from lock jaw?

with bombs bursting,
all around inside a nightmare...

Friday, December 23, 2011

FF55, 12/23/11, Noel

Tiny dots of gold
brightened the blue sky,
the North star was
over the stable

I was so proud
to be a Shepard
I hoped one day
to play a wise man.

We sang carols
for our families.
I looked out into
the dark audience

hoping  to find
my Mother or Father,
they never came.

Monday, December 19, 2011

Mag 96, 12/18/11 In the Neighborhood

"...Do you know- how hard it is to make people laugh--?" I wailed...

"It is ridiculous, preposterous! you color me amused ----
even though, I don't want anything to do with you anymore!

"Ana Marie!"

"No-" she waved an arm up at me- "No Naneens !
do you hear me? - no more homework -stories--- meatloaf!"

No more neighborhood Nanny? older sister-protector-defender -?
Now the youngster from long ago was whining.

  The air was a bit stale in the hall, even with
the bare casement window open down the end;
there was still an underlayment of cooking grease
and heating oil-

"...I am glad for you Francis!"   She unfolds her arms
and turns away to unlock her door.
"Now go take a bike out into the park- and
find yourself some boys to play baseball with---"
She bent down to grab her bag of groceries.
" It is fine weather nowadays---GO..."

Friday, December 16, 2011

Flash Fiction 55: 12/16/11: This Morning

I looked over
at a young Christmas Cactus,
in full, glorious December bloom.

Someone I know is separated
from her family just now;
Maybe she would enjoy this little plant.

Yesterday I offered her a time
to join me for baking cookies, next week .
She will be visiting her young son,
for part of Christmas...

Monday, December 12, 2011

Mag 95, 12/12/11

                                                                 image by Mostafa Habibi
Mother earth has stopped him-
He has run and fought
trampled and ignored
her rhythms and laws.
Now his mind and body may strain,
race and fight to free itself.
I could dig him out
now that he is awake;
and perhaps I will soon
when he realizes which way
the tide is flowing.

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Flash Fiction 55: 12/9/11 New Directives

"Going Comic 
with a lighter touch"

Demands I turn from lessons
sketched carefully in pencil
on my drawing board.

After two days
of zooming toward
a horizontal vanishing point, 

"Divert! Abort!"
skid, slide, reverse
along a fast curve-

*Whew* everything rounds out
Cheek, nose, hair
eyes and mouth;
relax into smiles
of an adrenalin surge!


Monday, December 5, 2011

Mag 94 12/4/11 Reminder

                                          Lunch, George Tooker, 1964, Columbus Museum of Art.

"Don't forget to pray" She whispered.
"I won't ever, no-" He bent his head
 briefly squeezing her hand.
  They sat in silence side by side,
she in blue and he in brown, a
brother and sister in from the farmland
of Pennsylvania.
   He pulled a couple of sandwiches
out of his pocket and passed her one.
"Tea ?" She lifted a bag from the floor.
" That would be lovely, thanks."
The thermos provided steamy, dark tea
which she slid over the table to him.
  They ate and drank together until
the loud speaker came on .
" One o'clock train to D.C, arriving on track four."
" Come on Mira, "  He stood and reached for his hat.
" Yes, Lucas I'm coming-" She tucked the remnants
of lunch away and got up to follow him.
It was time for the next leg of their
journey, to meet their younger brothers
remains and bring him back home.

Friday, December 2, 2011

Flash Fiction 55: 12/2/11 Into Africa wild.

A strange tribe
slides from  heaps of shade

brown and black hip hop
 flat piles of rock;
glide from stiff and scrubby brush.

Sniffing over diamonds
lapping melded gold,

roughened clusters under bent bands
of muscle and glorious hide.

No cheetah, no lion,
only leopards watch
a roll of dice;
the fierce and very shy.