Saturday, November 26, 2016

The River

For Real Toads 


Batik, an ancient method of painting on fabric 
with wax and dyes 

River Sunrise - Lothlorien - Large Giclee Print
http://amityfarmbatik.com/   ~~~   Carol Law Conklin, Artist




find your own stretch of river ..

your own peace of mind.

be tender with yourself

along the fragile places ..

careful not to slip, lose balance.





















Wednesday, November 23, 2016

Another World




From Milan to Florence
Montecatini to Greve in Chianti
Lucca to Pisa to Monterosso al Mare
Three horn honks
No middle fingers
Countless smiles
Ah, Italy.

Friday, October 28, 2016

It's Time

I post this poem each year during the World Series ~ what better way to describe the "feel" of Fall!



The Series

When summer fun has ended
and autumn leaves begin to fall
baseball takes the center stage
for the "greatest show of all"

Frenzied fans will pack the stands
they'll scream and shout and cheer
it's time for the World Series
the best games of the year

Fans keep track on scorecards
each pitch and steal and run
fifty-four outs - nine innings 
or 'till the game is done

Eyes trained on the umpire
it's three strikes and you're out!
no spit balls, scuff balls, mud balls
umps can leave no doubt

And when the games have ended
a champion has been crowned
fans know they've witnessed something,
 something quite profound

For Real Toads




Saturday, October 22, 2016

Fun With Words

For Real Toads



I am here
so where are you -
Said you’d come
By half past two!

What the hell
Now here I wait -
You stood me up
For our first date!

Do I care
No not a whit -
You’re not worth it
Not one bit!

I'm movin’ on
Usin’ my list -
Quite a long one
Get my gist?

You missed out
I’ve gotta say -
Next in line
Come make my day!

Friday, October 21, 2016

"Forever Young"

"May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung
May you stay f
orever young"





old is just around the corner
just around the bend
within my line of sight

I approach, shoulders back
head held high, undaunted
laughing all the way

For Real Toads ~ One of my favorite Dylan songs 









Monday, October 10, 2016

Splash of Red and Gold


Jaime Weatherford

we met 
in that time of the year
when trees sleep and flowers die.
found our rhythm amidst
laughing aspens 
whispering pines
falling leaves of red and gold.
autumn's light slowly faded 
sun's angle too low for nourishment
 we lost our rhythm .. drifted apart.

For Real Toads







Sunday, October 2, 2016

Flash 55

For Real Toads


Inspiration for this Flash 55 ~~ space and how it is utilized in both living and/or work places.

Charlie Dehner



We flirted with words, acted on impulse (ever so playfully at first.) Words that flew back and forth though space, across time zones, continents, oceans.  Connected on a deep level  without eye contact, casual touch, body language. Stories, histories, likes, dislikes. We shared tragedy and triumph.  Space and time ultimately ended us.  I miss him.

Saturday, July 30, 2016

Love, Ralph

The Post Card Challenge
For Real Toads


The year, 1939.  Mother sixteen, Daddy twenty-seven.  
My great grandparents spirited mother away ~ they considered Ralph a man about town! 
~ way too old for innocent Miss Ona. 
True love prevailed, Mother took the train from Doniphan to St. Louis ... the rest as they say is history. 


thanks, Daddy ~
you never gave up
knew from that first glance
she was the one ~
all these years later
we know it too








Saturday, July 16, 2016

Gone

 K├Ąthe Kollwitz, "Frau mit totem Kind" (1903)


I watch
as sunlight makes its way
across a room
devoid of color
coffee this morning
for one instead of two

I walk in the garden
gaze at plants 
I promised to tend 
a thousand times

perform the mundane tasks
one learns after 
years of togetherness

if only it mattered



For Real Toads and Mama Zen ~ 52 words








Friday, June 17, 2016

Talking About The Weather

Take the last text message you received and use it in a poem.  
Good luck on handling emojis!!!
For Izy and all the Toads!



Last text on my cell, June 15 ~ as you can see, I don't do a lot of texting!
We awakened to temperatures in the low 30s!  Which prompted a series of 'are you out making a snowman texts from around the country!


 The fifteenth of June
Two thousand sixteen
Snow’s on our mountains
May I set the scene?

Low temps, cool breezes
The weather is fine
We breathe in the fragrance of
Sagebrush and pine.

Scant rain and thunder
Humidity’s low
Everyone’s laid back
'Go with the flow.'

Craft beers and food carts
Music outside
Bend is my hometown
It’s where I reside.

Cycles and kayaks
Paddle boards and kites
Camping and fishing
Clear, star-filled nights.

We live in a paradise
Everyone knows
Enjoying the sweet warmth
Before wintry snows!






Monday, May 16, 2016

No More


I cannot remember the lovely times we shared
save for a few (and I know them by heart)
there is no more of me to give
nothing left for you to squander 


Tuesday, April 26, 2016

First Avenue

Back in the 80s before Prince launched a tour, he rehearsed at First Avenue, without fanfare.  We learned about these rehearsals via telephone calls ~ landlines, no cells! 

image ~ Wikipedia


greyhound bus station 
back in the day
sweet venue lying in wait
for Prince and The Revolution.

we were the 'splurge generation'
on our feet screaming for more
needing a fix
music our drug of choice.


Sunday, March 20, 2016

Magpie 309

Street Smart


photo by Damien Derouene




nice move Dad
taking it to the street

move your pieces well
for all the world to see

admit you want to win
show them

you can accept defeat 
with grace


Monday, March 7, 2016

Flash 55 for the Toads

For Real Toads ~ 55 Words

Lucid dreaming:  any dream in which, while physically asleep, you know that you are dreaming and have the ability to control the dream. 



Dream In Extreme

to sleep, perchance to dream
writer and producer ..
this is my play.
I control the direction
the destination,.
blissfully falling
into a beautiful screenplay
of my own making.
Sweet Jesus!
you are here
with me
as we used to be ..
the peaks, the valleys
all fused 
into one never ending
cosmic high. 

55 words including title ~~ early this morning.




Wednesday, March 2, 2016

Magpie 307


Cesar Santos

heading to art class
palette in hand
I am the model ~
buff, svelte and tanned.

Inviting the novice
professional too
genre of painting ~
I'll give you this clue.

Clothes are no option
the subject is nudes
red-faced and squirming ~
don't be such prudes.

Tonight we paint daring
whatever we choose
abstract, impression ~
let me be your muse.




Saturday, February 27, 2016

This Used To Be His Playground

For Real Toads and Hannah's 
Transforming with Nature's Wonders

Deer prancing through my neighborhood





lush habitat destroyed 
 in the name of progress
I weep at the sight.
our landscape feels empty
massive numbers of pines down
deer prints missing



Our city has grown by leaps and bounds since we arrived ten years ago.  I miss deer roaming through our neighborhoods, a magical sight ... now the magic is gone.  Huge swaths of trees and brush destroyed to build a four year college in the middle of Bend that will impact traffic and disrupt homeowners for decades to come. Our city leaders have goofed on this one, big time!!!   

Sunday, February 14, 2016

Viewfinder



Fireblossom's challenge is to write a new poem with the opening 
"So much depends upon...." and take it from there. 


Charlie Dehner ~ Bend Oregon


so much depends upon
the angle of your lens
upon a point of view
horizon tilted 
upside down
what you see
is up to you
seem's our world's gone
topsy-turvy
depending on your point  of view
perspective's often quite subjective
what you see 
is up to you




Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Memories .. A Return To Memory Care



Pied Piper

I feel like the Pied Piper among fragile humans
Needing cues from their pasts to bring
Smiles to their faces
Light to their eyes
Music is the key ~
I can bring back memories of long ago 
When they were happy and carefree
When joy and freedom reigned
When images of their futures could not be fathomed



The Journey to Dinner

I watch them as their day comes to a close
The continuous shuffling of bodies and souls
Some of them walking unaided
Some of them walking assisted
Some of them being pushed in chairs
The familiar journey to a room
Most of them can’t recall from day to day
I wonder 
Will he or she be there the next time I visit
I’ve grown so fond of them all




Can You Forget Me

If you see my face every day, can you forget me
If I touch your face, hold your hands, can you forget me
If I talk to you of long ago, awaken memories in a mind that’s fading, can you forget me
If I sing the hymns that express your faith,
 can you forget me
If I walk with you in the sun and gentle breeze,
can you forget me … only time will tell




Time

No need for clocks
No need for watches
Death comes on its own time frame
Like a thief 
In the dark of the night 
Stealing your most precious possession





Aftermath

I wander the halls
Look for signs of Mother
Something left behind
A photo displayed
Any tangible proof she was here 
Workers greet me with smiles and hugs
They know how sad I am
They are sad too
This becomes the proof 
I need to sustain me




Sunday, January 24, 2016

That's Life


Magpie 303

Francesca Woodman


we
spiral
twist
whirl
 unfurl 
then
ashes
ashes
we
all
fall 
down



Monday, January 18, 2016

About Artifice

For Real Toads

To paraphrase Karin; artifice is a strange word.  Certainly, it has negative connotations, often carrying the idea of falsity or insincerity.  But artifice also refers to stratagems that are marked by the artful, the genius.  Using Picasso as inspiration, Karin suggests we compose a poem that gets us to some expression of the genuine.  



Carl ~ 1973

his classmates produced
anatomically correct sculpture 

and then there was this

a Picasso like sculpture piece
his version of man

a bit skewed, maybe
correct from his point of view

our special needs boy 




Sunday, January 17, 2016

Self Examination






Ignore the obvious
Dark, raised, asymmetrical

Focus on her face, 
Only her face.

Pay no mind to the danger 
Lurking beneath her lovely skin

After all it is merely her back, 
Not her face.

Painfully aware
Fortune and fame would vanish

Without his meal ticket,
His golden girl.

In yet one more way
Not taking care of her.



Sunday, January 3, 2016

Splish, Splash


Magpie 300


Charing Cross Road, 1937 ~ Wolfgang Suschitzky




I was adorable at nine
splashing my way through life
total lack of inhibition

I was enchanting at ten
stomping my way through puddles
railing at whatever .. whomever

I was unstoppable at eleven
 cloudbursts .. were mere child's play
bring them on I shrieked 

I was frantic at twelve
galoshes now an indignity
oh the injustice of it all

I was befuddled at thirteen
shoulders hunched against the rain
longed to be nine again




Sunday, December 13, 2015

Magpie 298 ~ Haiku



what becomes of them
when horror becomes the norm
innocent, each one 



For Magpie Tales

Thursday, December 3, 2015

Boyhood

For Real Toads

pinterest, source unknown


tonight they will dream
of the second
she lifted her skirt
struck a pose, boldly 
tossed back brown curls 
puckered her red lips 
offered her most seductive
“come hither, boys” wink
THE look that said it all
yes, tonight boys will be boys
dreaming of lush plumpness,
dimpled thighs,
soft breasts
mysterious places
sinfully sweet and
delightfully dark