She came to me in the red leaves outside my window
the sunlight shining through her color so that my bedroom was filled
with her glow.
I had put her and her mother and father from my mind
because she reminded me too much of all I had to protect
every day
every waking and every sleeping hour.
Little girls have Heaven in them
and she in Heaven as sure as she is in the leaves outside my window.
She came to me two days ago
in the quiet eyes of my daughter
but I wasn't ready to look.
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Saturday, July 16, 2011
The Dog is Eating Lucky Charms As I Look the Other Way
frosted whiskers gleam
the baby hits the dog
a cereal fight
the baby wins.
the baby hits the dog
a cereal fight
the baby wins.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Sunday, January 9, 2011
sunday snow
the softest bed i know
is in the dirt and leaves
under new falling snow
my view full up
with tops of trees
is in the dirt and leaves
under new falling snow
my view full up
with tops of trees
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Senryu Times Three: No French Toast for Thee
yes, dreams do matter
you put your hand on her hip
and stroked her blonde hair
her french toast smelled sweet
sick the way you whispered sex
and slurped the syrup
bad news, you Old Man
I beat up bedtime betty
no more french toast dreams
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Annie's Voice
she thought she lost her voice
but then she made a choice
she thought she had no choice
but then she found her voice
tripping
hiding under the covers
from life
unsure of her direction
never with conviction
making hard choices
forcing herself to live with them
alone
in the house she built for herself
in the house she
and no one else
bought for herself
she tells herself she is nothing
no spine no substance
no SHE
no who she is supposed to be
but no one knows or cares
who she is supposed to be
she is carving
cutting
breaking
demanding
the right road for herself
and fuck everyone else
only she can find the way
and she will find the way
even if she never
ever
ever
finds her voice.
but then she made a choice
she thought she had no choice
but then she found her voice
tripping
hiding under the covers
from life
unsure of her direction
never with conviction
making hard choices
forcing herself to live with them
alone
in the house she built for herself
in the house she
and no one else
bought for herself
she tells herself she is nothing
no spine no substance
no SHE
no who she is supposed to be
but no one knows or cares
who she is supposed to be
she is carving
cutting
breaking
demanding
the right road for herself
and fuck everyone else
only she can find the way
and she will find the way
even if she never
ever
ever
finds her voice.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Bluebeard
Breadwinner. New for her.
Her new office has a window, lots of light, just underneath the glass ceiling.
A big promotion, more money, more security for her family.
A wolvish grin, a laughing heartbeat.
Her new office has a window, lots of light, just underneath the glass ceiling.
Bluebeard creeps behind her chair; she feels the horsehair beard against her cheek.
A wolvish grin, a laughing hearbeat.
He grabs a fistful of her hair with one huge hand.
Bluebeard creeps behind her chair; she feels the horsehair beard against her cheek.
He smells of dying leaves.
He grabs a fistful of her hair with one huge hand.
In the other hand, a goblet of the most delicious liquid.
He smells of dying leaves.
Bad mother, he says. Bad woman.
In the other hand, a goblet of the most delicious liquid.
Leaving your children behind to work under the glass. False goddess.
Bad mother, he says. Bad woman.
You know too much, you do too much. Who are you to have all this?
Leaving your children behind to work under the glass. False goddess.
He caresses her cheek with his, she leans against him.
You know too much, you do too much. Who are you to have all this?
He brings the goblet to her lips; the juice mixes with her lipstick.
He caresses her cheek with his, she leans against him.
Your home will come to ruins.
He brings the goblet to her lips; the juice mixes with her lipstick.
Softly, she brings her hand to his beard.
Your home will come to ruins.
She pulls the hair from his chin and he cries in pain.
Softly, she brings her hand to his beard.
"Bluebeard," she says, "you have the wrong office."
She pulls the hair from his chin and he cries in pain.
Breadwinner. New for her.
Her new office has a window, lots of light, just underneath the glass ceiling.
A big promotion, more money, more security for her family.
A wolvish grin, a laughing heartbeat.
Her new office has a window, lots of light, just underneath the glass ceiling.
Bluebeard creeps behind her chair; she feels the horsehair beard against her cheek.
A wolvish grin, a laughing hearbeat.
He grabs a fistful of her hair with one huge hand.
Bluebeard creeps behind her chair; she feels the horsehair beard against her cheek.
He smells of dying leaves.
He grabs a fistful of her hair with one huge hand.
In the other hand, a goblet of the most delicious liquid.
He smells of dying leaves.
Bad mother, he says. Bad woman.
In the other hand, a goblet of the most delicious liquid.
Leaving your children behind to work under the glass. False goddess.
Bad mother, he says. Bad woman.
You know too much, you do too much. Who are you to have all this?
Leaving your children behind to work under the glass. False goddess.
He caresses her cheek with his, she leans against him.
You know too much, you do too much. Who are you to have all this?
He brings the goblet to her lips; the juice mixes with her lipstick.
He caresses her cheek with his, she leans against him.
Your home will come to ruins.
He brings the goblet to her lips; the juice mixes with her lipstick.
Softly, she brings her hand to his beard.
Your home will come to ruins.
She pulls the hair from his chin and he cries in pain.
Softly, she brings her hand to his beard.
"Bluebeard," she says, "you have the wrong office."
She pulls the hair from his chin and he cries in pain.
Breadwinner. New for her.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Fall
http://www.ahandfulofstones.com/
Look for my poem on a handful of stones blog, under Thursday, September 30th, 2010.
Colorado's seasons are like a woman who changes her mind, changes her clothes and her perfume. Fall in Colorado to me is dusty dirt roads lined five feet deep on either side with wild sunflowers. It's hot and the air is filled with insects. Noisy and quiet at the same time. The sunflowers take over the eastern plains and front range, just east of the mountains.
Fall in the mountains is different - crisper, clear, filled with bugling elk and city people driving slow on the winding roads, craning their necks to see turning leaves.
Look for my poem on a handful of stones blog, under Thursday, September 30th, 2010.
Colorado's seasons are like a woman who changes her mind, changes her clothes and her perfume. Fall in Colorado to me is dusty dirt roads lined five feet deep on either side with wild sunflowers. It's hot and the air is filled with insects. Noisy and quiet at the same time. The sunflowers take over the eastern plains and front range, just east of the mountains.
Fall in the mountains is different - crisper, clear, filled with bugling elk and city people driving slow on the winding roads, craning their necks to see turning leaves.
Monday, July 5, 2010
My Poem on A Handful of Stones Blog
Check out "Janis Joplin Lulluaby" on A Handful of Stones blog. I wrote this about six weeks ago when Baby Girl was at her muy fussy stage and we'd spend an hour and a half trying to put her to bed. I'm not the singing type but I do know one song.
http://www.ahandfulofstones.com/2010/07/janis-joplin-lullaby.html
http://www.ahandfulofstones.com/2010/07/janis-joplin-lullaby.html
Friday, April 9, 2010
Insomnia
His hand is tangled in my hair
his thumb strokes my forehead
I am afraid to move
if I move we'll lose the connection
his thumb strokes my forehead
I am afraid to move
if I move we'll lose the connection
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Then and Now
I was from
every day outside
sleeping in caves
saw the stars
heard the coyotes
in my bedroom
fierce determination
to do it all
when I grew up.
Now I am from
short-clipped fingernails
never know when I'll have to fight
determined to do it all
but it's not that easy
negotiating my place at work
leaving work behind at home
working on a story
for eight months
waiting for the time
and the inspiration
the story deserves
writing to shout who I am
because doing it all
obscures introspection.
I am from
bewildering confidence
that I will never cede
what I need.
every day outside
sleeping in caves
saw the stars
heard the coyotes
in my bedroom
fierce determination
to do it all
when I grew up.
Now I am from
short-clipped fingernails
never know when I'll have to fight
determined to do it all
but it's not that easy
negotiating my place at work
leaving work behind at home
working on a story
for eight months
waiting for the time
and the inspiration
the story deserves
writing to shout who I am
because doing it all
obscures introspection.
I am from
bewildering confidence
that I will never cede
what I need.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
My Senryu on "Handful of Stones" blog
http://www.ahandfulofstones.com/2010/02/senryu-times-two-no-beer-for-you.html
It's 3 AM and I'm eating - because there's a baby in my belly and apparently little missy can't wait for 5:30 AM to roll around - and also writing about this senryu I wrote a couple of months ago. A senryu is a haiku about human foibles. As much as I love haikus, which traditionally are nature-themed, I wanted to take this form and apply it to my tendencies to make outrageous threats like, "I'm gonna leave you and go to Mexico."
Enjoy. My tummy is full and I'm going back to bed.
It's 3 AM and I'm eating - because there's a baby in my belly and apparently little missy can't wait for 5:30 AM to roll around - and also writing about this senryu I wrote a couple of months ago. A senryu is a haiku about human foibles. As much as I love haikus, which traditionally are nature-themed, I wanted to take this form and apply it to my tendencies to make outrageous threats like, "I'm gonna leave you and go to Mexico."
Enjoy. My tummy is full and I'm going back to bed.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Colorado National Monument Haiku
Red rock, raven wings,
desert silence. Feathered whoosh
reminds me of home.
There is nothing like the pure dry silence of the Southwest, where I grew up. No city noise means that if I pause, I can hear bird wings in the air. They sound like brooms on dry concrete. During our recent trip to Colorado National Monument in Fruita, The Old Man and I watched and listened to two ravens playing in the January drafts. We were hiking in the snow at 7,200 feet looking over the 4,500 foot canyonlands of red rock formations below.
desert silence. Feathered whoosh
reminds me of home.
There is nothing like the pure dry silence of the Southwest, where I grew up. No city noise means that if I pause, I can hear bird wings in the air. They sound like brooms on dry concrete. During our recent trip to Colorado National Monument in Fruita, The Old Man and I watched and listened to two ravens playing in the January drafts. We were hiking in the snow at 7,200 feet looking over the 4,500 foot canyonlands of red rock formations below.
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