Friday, December 2, 2011

Running

Running

I'm running 
as fast as I can
trying to keep up
with where he's going
I'm running

I'm running
everyday a new challenge
feel I'm falling behind
with where he's going
I'm running

Sunday, November 6, 2011

In the Pleat of Essence

In the Pleat of Essence

Dappled light
I walk the beach
find a shell
salty air

memory reignites
old love
a sort of delirium
piercing

seems to emit 
a strident pitch
a hollow feeling
in the pleat of essence


for: http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/

Sunday, October 30, 2011

Vanished

Vanished

I carved out a pumpkin
Halloween Eve night
bats against full moon
cut myself on the knife
crooked smile twitched
in flickering candlelight
seeing the bloody mess
I reached for the vodka
gurgled from the bottle
poured some on my cut
climbed out the window
onto the gutter, leaped
a thump on the sidewalk



http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2011/10/30/216/

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Revolting

My feet dancing through the hoops of your chicanery
heart broken I bolt from sight, wade in shallows alone

Once we had it all, burst on the scene fighting for causes
people gathered and cheered as you promised everything

You were a fake, a fraud, you only wanted worship
your world topples, they shoulder you out with disdain

I can never forgive you, nor can they, your loyal followers
we risked everything for you, now we are outcast



from the challenges for Sunday Whirl

http://www.blenza.com/linkies/links.php?owner=brendaw&postid=16Oct2011

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Dichotomies

Sound/Silence

Dichotomies wrangle my soul
I love silence
which is not never to hear
in this busy world 
I love sound which is beautiful
an aria, a violin, screaming rock
a bird, a dog, a friend
I love sound
your voice

Sunday, October 9, 2011

My Bell

My Bell

Binoculars swing 
on the hat-rack 
back from the garden
beside the pond lilies 
where swallows darted
rambunctious in flight
ballroom dancers
I admired dip and glide

trudged along fallow shore
past an obsolete automobile
looked for a crumb of peace
a listen for bell call to vespers
home now I brew some tea
envision swallows dancing
I've found my peace
my bell

Saturday, October 8, 2011

Swallow

Rambunctious ones
I reflect on swallows
admire their dip and glide
sumpting on mosquitos
ballroom dancing
they trip over the pond
obsolete with pesticides




Sunday whirl: rambunctious, admire, swallows, pond, ballroom, obsolete

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Outside

Outside


Motion outside my window
passers-by strolling shop
occasionally they look
meet one another's gaze
it is always an accident
as they lower their eyes

outside my window they
jostle strangers oblivious
to all but themselves
they clutch their security
chat with their friends
never move across lines

Sunday, September 18, 2011

La Vita Boca: Spin and Weave

La Vita Boca: Spin and Weave

Spin and Weave

Spin and Weave

Wool spins over fingertips
bloody raw from guiding it
sheep graze out my window
strengthen in opal meadow
I yearn for my muse or an omen 
in this narrow corridor of a life
just sheep and thread as I thrust
the shuttle back and forth
once with verve I am now tired
old when I look in the mirror

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

So

So

So
today was not such a good day
but I know tomorrow will be fine
for there can't be two bad days
in a row I toe the line

In a row I toe the line
say prayers when I go to bed
to the great amorphous head
who I believe is inundated
too much demand in a sad world

Seven billion souls, say a fourth 
are praying for forgiveness
a fourth for wishes for the dying 
half for wealth or health or both
but God keeps creating

So
God almighty keeps up with demand
yet we still don't know why prayers
seem never answered
loved ones die, God knows why

in a row I toe the line
our only succor is to believe
there is a reason, a design
a place in heaven after we
traverse this earth of sorrow

Seven billion souls and growing
God gets greater everyday
except faith gets weaker
as prayers drift off with no answers
little specks afloat in atmosphere

So
tonight the moon is full
I like her pure whiteness
she doesn't promise anything
except her monthly cycle

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Saturday, September 10, 2011

My Neighbor

He has to scrape his pockets
to find enough tobacco to roll
enough change for a bite to eat
he works my corner, has to build
clients with his engaging smile
sometimes urgent he asks, lady
any spare change, to buy a jolt
to get him through another day

he'd been missing for awhile
my husband said on vacation 
styling in the islands probably
he was in the hospital, diabetes
proudly displayed his syringes
he is a simple soul yet streetwise
he's learned to survive but never
prosper except with little gifts

he had to go to St. Vincent's
way downtown for his visits
doctor, labs, insulin syringes
asked me for subway change
I gave him a card with $11 on it
don't spend it on anything else
how would I do that he asked
he takes me for a fool I guess

Next day I see him wearing 
ten hats, sombrero, cowboy
assorted others, huge smile
a twelve pack on his shoulder
this bold man, I shook my head
then tapped my foot, he cut
around me roaring laughter
I let him pass with dignity

My neighbor

for Sunday Whirl
urgent, simple, pockets, jolt, build, how, dignity, cut, bold, scrape, roaring, pass







Friday, September 9, 2011

Fire

I Respect Fire

I know camp fires
burning marshmallows
on shaved forked sticks
sparks like tiny fireworks
glow of firelight on faces

I loved wood fireplaces
stoked up on a snowy night
the crackle and hiss 
blue orange red colors
flames dancing to music

I have seen conflagration
lumber yard burned to nothing
I watched from a bridge above 
I watched a barn burn down
thankfully no animals present

I packed my car ready
watered my roof while fire
ravished the hill above
firefighters walking woods 
plane dropping chemicals

I have seen burned bodies
skin turned to melted plastic
I can't imagine the pain and
I wished them dead for their
own sake, one child died

I respect fire

Bride of Evening

Bride of Evening

The moon gauzy
rises white above
black thunderhead
head now covers
gauze moon yet
she keeps rising
thwarts swallow
she is on a path
to avoid darkness
she rises, rises
as thunderhead
builds up steam
reaches, reaches
to no avail Luna
dressed to wed
but oh, she is 
swallowed, gone
all blackness
no there she is
bride of evening 

9/11

9/11

Early, dogs smiled along the lake
sunrise peach pink purple palette
clouds reflected in gentle ripples
baby ducks cruised with parents 
I felt as though I walked in a Monet
exquisitely beautiful gentle peace 

back by nine I turned on the news
one tower billowing black smoke
I dropped onto the hassock in shock 
a plane they said with excitement
my heart caught between beats
I felt etched in stone unable to move

they thought it had been an accident
I watched as another plane plowed
an explosion into the second tower 
I couldn't fathom what I was seeing
my heart still caught between beats
I heard the announcer shouting

frozen in place not breathing I stared
finally the horrible reality registering
I called my husband tried to tell him
stammering, sobbing, planes, towers
turn on a TV, terrorist attack, I heard
him saying my God, my God, my God

Come home, I told him, come home

Culling

Culling

Culling from experience
responses as to who I am
I think I will be less about me

I think I will sit back
not put myself out so much
quiet, watchful, nonplussed

I will not be reactionary
not come on too strong
not belabor my views

I will not share my soul
my deepest secrets
to be used against me

I will be careful for me
not give my heart away
for it is never safe

A heart can be broken
into bleeding pieces
hard to put back together

Culling from experience
I will trust my instincts
I will be more particular

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Always War

Always War

Pallid women
quivering blooms
go about their day
war torn streets
studded hordes
men with guns
bar everyone going
about daily activities
children birdlike crawl
Moms hitch them
back up to safety
the rack awaits 

for Sunday wordl: crawl, rack, pallid, women, blooms, quivering, studded, hordes, hitch, bar, good, birdlike

Friday, September 2, 2011

Bruising


Bruising

In the bruising of life
I try to cover the pain
smile and walk straight
people streaming past
don't notice, or if they do
turn away waxen in fear of
too much scruff emotion
I trudge with lurches
toe to toe, rubbery legs
ratcheting my way

in the hour before dawn

for a challenge from Peggy Goetz using the words: bruising, streaming, lurches, waxen, hour before dawn, rubbery, scruff, ratcheting

"Bones"

"Bones"


In an old trunk off a vessel
anchored in the harbor 
fervent forensic scientist
sweeps for truth in the
residue of matter before 
skins turn to dust
breeze swirls her cloak


for Sunday whirl five days late:
residue, turn, skins, truth, trunk, matter, breeze, cloak, vessel, sweeps, fervent

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Spin

Spin

In desperation
in this miserable
revolution
wasted I slouch toward 
a cheap motel
meet a stranger
screw him
under bare bulb light
a great Ash outside
one of few to escape
the blight
under the Ash
I feel cleansed

Sunday, August 14, 2011

Freedom of Sedition

I tremor with excitement
to sew tuft of the stigma
over and over enmesh it
in the sporadic design
of our seditious flag
we plaster handbills
sacred pledge that 
no nether group hinder
our tread toward freedom


Friday, August 12, 2011

Most Secret Agent

Most Secret Agent

Tender notes
swept torments
from my mind

Memories of
crawling things
left rusty scars

Prophets walk
across cement
in morning sun

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Letting Go

Letting Go

In the midst of insanity
letting go is tantamount
give up reason
let go of everything sane
go with altered reality
cruise in the new world
let go, let go, let go
this is the new reality
this is the new sanity
letting go


Sunday, August 7, 2011

Secret Agent


Prophets walk
across cement
in morning sun

Memories of
crawling things
left rusty scars

Tender notes
swept torments
from my mind





for Sunday whirl: torments, swept, tender, notes, walk, prophets, crawling, cement, sun, morning, scars, rusty

Sunday, July 31, 2011

Lost

Lost

I weed my way across the desert
footstep after dragging footstep
hisses and rattles pierce my ears
sprout fear in my nervous heart
vision of a fortress appears distant
hope revives I struggle onward
unseen holy voices jangle nerves
do they signal death or life
image of the fortress splinters

This poem was written for The Sunday Whirl.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Private Eye

Private Eye

Gild cast by sun
on scattered clouds
curtains whir, twist
day's last breeze
night blinks down
reprehensible deeds
are a marvel to behold
as I scan your dossier



Sunday wordl: rendered, reprehensible, gild, scattered, marvel, cast, blink, clouds, whir, twist, scan, curtains

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Diane

In the Midst of Sorrow

She's gone
levitated off that black runway
soaring
free

Monday, July 4, 2011

Fading

wordl prompts: fading, flew, hurtles, limbs, clears, toss, siren, turned, reaching, fresh, flecks, flossed

Flecks of fading light toss glints
on flossed milkweed reaching
for last rays, siren sun's bed  
turned down fresh for dreams
heron flew west toward rookery
clears hurtles, limbs unscathed

Monday, June 27, 2011

Bad Date

for wordl prompts: kisses, pepper, sands, grace, copper, flitting, shade, silent, surface, haze, inhaling, whirl


Bad Date

Shape of his mouth
flitting over mine
pepper kisses
smother me
I fight for air inhaling
silent in the shade
copper color sands
whirl as I surface
in haze no grace

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Almost Home

They Were Almost Home

They were almost home
when the car went out of control
they swerved back and forth
across the highway
steep walls on one side
deep plunge on the other side
pavement slick the steering wheel
spinning the car plummeting
over the edge like a rocket
straight down 
her hair flew up past her ears
while she heard him say
God Damn You!

Clouds

Clouds Like Bruises

They scud angry
bolts of lightning
rent the atmosphere
bruise clouds that
drop their tears over
pale pink lower lids
melt mascara down
painted pink cheeks
forced lips smiling

Silver Bead

Silver Bead of Water

A silver bead of water blossomed
at the end of a copper faucet
reflecting ball it mirrored all 
around me

purple mountains graying
cacti and sagebrush
sand and red mesas
sun unrelenting

beaded blossom a last drop
on my tongue, the faucet dry
the desert hot, I knew I was
french fried

Headlights

 Headlights

Headlights swept the yard
full of giant burdocks
the house came into view
porch listing toward the walk
gray slivered boards
rusted metal roof
windows boarded here and there
missing teeth one or another
uncovered, smashed, let someone
in to sleep in a bed, cook a meal
the moon shone full over trees
matched headlights until 
I drove away and then there was
only the moon glinting on what was

Trees

*The Surveillance of Arrogant Trees"

I never thought trees arrogant
surveillant from their vantage point
tall could allow for arrogance
looking down from above

trees are simply impeccably trees
they are without agendas
except to grow up and out ringed
in beauty

I never thought trees arrogant
I like to think of them so

while I sit elfin beneath them 
too often too full of myself 

silent they lumber above my head

myriad species, myriad gifts
furniture, homes, sustenance, oxygen
inspiration for painters and bards


The Surveillance of Arrogant Trees  




*a line from the book: The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski 



 
 

Lightning

Lightning

Cancer made its home
spread to my right eye
made me see rice scattered
on a sheet of nori
in night's sky with a
full moon Buddha
wielding chopstick lightning

The Evidence

The Evidence

Despite your inexperience
the truth is evident
whom do you turn to
there is no one
where do you go
there is nowhere

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Cocoon

Cocoon 

I love the thought of a soft place
quiet, dark, no sensory stimulation
a gentle place without stressors
just for a while
an escape from the bombardment
of everyday life
the noise, the news, the horrors
my sleeplessness
worries, hunger, fear, anger
to wrap up snug and safe
to rest and gestate and then to fly
on iridescent wings flower to flower
sipping nectar, just a worm born
from a cocoon, I want back in the womb 

Seeds

Hitchhikers 

Half moon shaped
sticky olive green
comb them out of
dog's hair
peel them free from
washed underwear
they followed me 
all the way to NY
first, and now DC
made me think about
their tenacity
I transported them 
to new fertile ground
it scared me

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Last Stone

Last Stone

I am not the person
for the job
I am not the person
I can't do it
I can't do it right
none of us can
it is a job without rules
without parameters
without guidelines
I am not the person
I need structure
I need rules
I need parameters
I need to know
how
but there is no how
and none of us are 
the person for the job

Saturday, June 4, 2011

Stone III

Stone III

There are people who are stones
they make a stance in the world
there are people who are boulders
who rollover and crush us all
there are people who are pebbles
who lie at the bottom of streams
and envision everything

Another Stone

Stone

Gray glint gold
rose aqua sunset
Palm Springs Hills
I will never forget
every moment we
shared together
I want us back to
there where we
were

I know we can't have
it back and it makes me
crazy with the injustice
in the world, I cry every
day all day because
well, I must digress, I 
was going into order
but there is only chaos

I want Diane back 

Stone

Stone

A little hard place
in your heart where
you know something's
not right

Where from the hard place
you try everyday to make it
but you still know it's
not right

what do you do in the hard place?

Monday, May 30, 2011

Remembrance

Memorial Day

We bought geraniums
dug them into soft brown earth
red orange against gray granite
purple lilacs, bright green moss
quiet place
we try not to walk on graves
Grandparents, Aunt, Uncle, Mom 
in respect to them who lie beneath
I read their Headstones 

Saturday, May 7, 2011

Mother

Mother's Day Eve

I look for photos
of my mother to share
but they're missing
I don't know where they are
a few of us together
when I was very young
no adult together photos
were they never taken
I think not
no mother daughter embrace
because it never happened
until it was far too late
and no one was snapping

Days of Me

Days of me

Morning rising up
out of the ocean of sleep
dreams pulling loose
I want to dive back in
to the wonderful worlds
I escape to each night

Awake begrudgingly at last
I face reality and wonder 
why get out of bed 
know because I am blessed
alive to a new day
I escape into wonder

I turn over leaves
get out my microscope
click on my stargazer
read, paint, write, listen
talk with a friend
walk my dog with my husband

He and I shop, cook, eat, laugh
go our separate ways 
for our evening, me to write
he to watch TV and then
I pull the blinds shut
dive back into the ocean of sleep

Monday, May 2, 2011

Drought

The lakes are down
the temperatures up
two mockingbirds 
attack a boat tailed grackle
in a bottlebrush tree
another lies dead beneath

green scum floats on water
duck family disappeared
rings disturb the surface
no splash from roils beneath
lawns are green as all water 
despite the bans

for rains will come
perhaps with a vengeance
this is Florida after all
just one hurricane can fill us up
brim full and overflowing
for now we wait for tropical rain