Something About This Tree

 

For Friday Writings ~ Poets and Storytellers United

Ghost Tree

in my imagination

 

it had leaves

alive

in my reality

its beauty astounds

something magical about a ghost

On Mother's Day my Family and I celebrated with a late lunch at a restaurant with a great outdoor eating space. Right next to our table was a large tree that looked "dead" to me. It was explained they are called Ghost Trees and used frequently to enhance landscapes. Literally moved from wherever they are, transported to their new homes. Roots secured within a concrete base deep into the ground. This tree was simply beautiful and silly me didn't take a photo. Which meant a return for more of their tasty food! Which I did.

Thankfulness

 Rommy shares this quote from Joana Walsh's essay "My Life As A Goddard Movie"  as inspiration for our poems ~~

“The most expensive garment you’ll ever own is your own flesh.”

Thanksgiving arrives the way it always does

the clatter of dishes, stories we tell

our first born carves the turkey

steam rises in praise, laughter shakes loose

we pass plates and memories with the quiet understanding

being here is never guaranteed

The soft ache in my bones reminds me

how long I've lived in this skin

paid for with every stumble, scar

every winter settled in my marrow

every determined spring pulling me up

Costly as my flesh has been

it has carried me all the way

to this warm room, this crowded table

this moment where love exists 

in the simplest ways, passed hand to hand

like bread

The Dark You Do Not See

 

For Poets and Storytellers

Appreciate the shimmer ~ the artful face

coiling into charm ~ a smile that almost means it

beneath the lacquered calm her pulse keeps time

to older music ~ wild, unruly, half-forbidden

she knows the rules ~ how to break them softly

she walks in light ~ keeps a piece of night

tucked under her tongue ~ a secret flavor

she will not spit out

she's a bright one ~ YES

also one who burns her own edges

curious to see what survives the flame

The Finishing Touch

 

In the realm of high fashion ~ dreams intertwine

designers mold visions ~ best of their line

the finishing touch ~ designer's delight

diamonds on jackets ~ daydreams take flight

in those final gestures ~ art finds a voice

completing the image ~ power with each choice

Bucket List

BEFORE I KICK THE BUCKET

1970 ~ twenty and-nine 

first bucket list

I vowed to repeat 

 every decade thereafter

raising four children in the 60s / 70s

 ages two through ten, my list was

(i must confess) probably over-ambitious  

"hand's full" is putting it mildly

we made it through the 70s with

flying colors, I forgot the list, focused on  

training wheels, music lessons, scouting, sports

special education and graduations 

plunged head-first into the 80s

a failed marriage, another kind of bucket list 

a return to school, a new career, a different kind of life

decade after decade life went on 

 I took whatever came my way 

living, laughing, thanking, loving

all the way down the yellow brick road ...

not ready for it to end any time soon

Time

Aftermath

I wander the halls

Looking for signs of Mother

Something left behind

A photo displayed

Proof she was here

Workers greet me with tears, smiles and hugs

They know how sad I am

They're sad too

And this becomes the proof

 I need to sustain me

Ready! Set! Go!

 

seems i'm in a sticky bind

not much time to clear my mind

which now ~ is it to be

limited options ~ maybe three

feet first ~ hands first ~ cannonball

too close for comfort ~ water wall

hydrodynamic tuck and crouch 

rotate ~ somersault ~ front flip ~ ouch 

floating easy ~ feeling free

water baby ~ that is me!

https://dversepoets.com/

With an Assist from Helen Reddy

lecherous looks from men  

on sidewalks / in classrooms / airports

i turn my head / i tune them out

i don’t need catcalls / low-pitched moans

under-the-breath whistles / vulgar gestures

i sing the music / in my mind

celebrate / at the very edge of my soul

stride / with unwavering grace 

 too big to ignore / hey guys 

i've heard it all before

Baton Up!

                                                         Bend Oregon ~ Drake Park

October ... a conductor’s dream 

summer’s last note of grace aglow

crescendo, octave low, sforzando

staccato's sharp blow

morphs into snow

 

Imagine

'River Sunrise - Lothlorien'

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

disappear

Never-ending Wait

 

is there is a statute

of limitations

on my poems?

an expiration date after

which they become 

fair game?

the day you are free 

to scramble

pilfer, rearrange my words?

the day you pretend 

they are yours? 

Every Move we Make

hold me close

move in time

bossa nova beckons 

close your eyes

feel the heat

bossa nova passion

sexy you

sexy me

swaying

moving

grooving

flawless nights

are meant for love

and bossa nova dancing

  

Virgo Woman

Illustration by Natalie Krim 

Virgo Rule #1 ~ never date a Virgo man, his quirks are your quirks! Those Libra smiles? Lethal weapons ~ and should be outlawed. I had a few Taurus crushes in high school, they were bullies ~ NOT GOING THERE! Geminis? Hard to ignore their evil (twin) alter egos. Aquarius ~ the intellectual I worshiped from afar, a college prof ~ later learned he enjoyed platonic relationships, a bit eccentric.  The Leo, loved by everyone and vice versa. He left me! Pisces, the equivalent of dating a phantom. Wishy-washy, quite elusive. Cancers, ruled by the moon ~ and prone to mood swings. In their defense, they seem quite protective of the women they love. Sagittarius, wild child of the zodiac, I was exhausted after three months. Motorcycle rides, zip lining, grueling runs, marathon tennis, I needed to enjoy life ~ preferably in one piece!  My Aries fling? Oh, he was devastatingly cute and quite brilliant, way, way too young. They say Scorpios are great to have by your side during times of trouble. I had no dire premonitions, I passed.  Ah, finally The Capricorn ~ sexy, fun, talented, tolerant, generous, athletic, loving, ambitious, a soulmate, SIGH ~ the one who got away.  The end.

Aging Process

Crumbling is not an instant's Act

A fundamental pause

Dilapidation's processes

Are organized Decays — Emily Dickinson

built on a crumbling

foundation

life as they knew it

had died

nothing left to salvage

nothing left to hide

Explaining

Explanation/Justification/Rationalization

Now I lay me down to sleep

Bedtime rituals I will keep

Experts tell me no caffeine

After dinner, that feels mean

Jogging, cycling more of that

Calories, carbs, and watch the fat

Late night screen time spoils your sleep

Let me say, don’t give a bleep

I sleep better, I sleep deep

Improvement over counting sheep

 Bedtime TV it's for me

Timer’s set, now let me be

Brothers escort me to sleep

Familiar voices, male and deep

Same old format yes it’s true

HGTV ~ Jonathan / Drew

By the time my screen goes dark

Must confess I've "hit the mark" 

Readers now don't have to guess

Cause fast asleep I am - OH YES

   

Pavement Inspiration

Is there such a thing ????

huffing and puffing

I'm at three miles

sweat is fast dripping

my face is all smiles

music is blaring

I’m striding in time

mind sure is drifting

creating this rhyme

inspired by the pavement

imperfections and cracks

watch where I’m stepping

I’m breaking no backs

coming on five miles

feeling some pain

mind’s getting fuzzy

no pain means no gain

lo and behold

what can this be

a map of our country

I giggle with glee

outlined are State lines

yes yes it’s quite clear

time to head home

for an icy cold beer!!

Hereafter ...

when I die

cobble together a brass band

one of each 

trumpet, saxophone, trombone

flute, clarinet, bass drum

lead my loved ones .. onlookers too

 through the streets of my home town
dance like there's no tomorrow 
raise your glasses
to life, to love, to us, to me

then scatter my ashes 

let me soar

Muse

Inspiration ~ poems by Christina

Georgina Rossetti or paintings by

her brother Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Dante Gabriel Rossetti age nineteen ~ Self Portrait ~ 1847

I was young when I 

conjured my muse

snatched him out of thin air

no one around

to witness the theft

I kept him

 
for inspiration

All About Red

life is like eating a

ripe tomato

good to its juicy end

comes in countless shapes

sizes, color variations

bursting with potential  

supported by a virtual cornucopia of

 recipes guaranteeing culinary success

life is like eating a

pomegranate

it takes tenacity to make your way

through those juicy seeds

a willingness to stain

your fingers in the process

trusting in the end

reward outweighs the mess

life is like eating a

red hot chili pepper

it requires daring

plus an element of risk

the payoff .. you win the trophy 

for not backing down 

Postmortem

we wore our lies

wore them well

careful not to expose

the dark underbelly

of who we were

lies of omission 

lies of commission

we wore our lies

wore them well

donned the clothes
played our parts
spun the myths
from strands of gold

deceit our cloak 

quintessential guise

we wore our lies

wore them well