One Year, Still Scattered

The edges of my life are still blurry
And sometimes,
It feels like I’m flying alone.

Moon tells me this is not so.
“It’s all in your head” she says.
Cloud becomes indignant…
“And what am I to you?
All these years I have performed
At your every whim,
Creating mood and color?”

Sun waxes stoic.
“You hurt me with that assessment,
But I understand your condition.
We stop seeing what our eyes are telling us
And we listen to that recurring nightmare
That will not leave us alone.

Open your eyes
Live the beauty set before you.
Let it fill your every pore.
I will cover your face
With the energy
That fosters love, gentleness,
And kindness.
Isn’t this sufficient?”

Yes…it is.

October 9 marked one year here on WordPress. Thank you everyone who has been a sun and moon to me in this crazy expressive world.

photograph is multiple exposures – post includes color shifts and light texture

The Organized Life

One thing I have learned
It can’t be all bad to have
Your ducks in a row

although, it may be likened to trying to “herd cats”
reality was, isn’t and never will be wholly predictable
why do I feel like I’m in a box when I write a haiku?

Webs and Goldenrod

There are secrets on the trail
Quiet and subdued
A certain color
Or refraction of light
A specific scent
Sent to trigger memories

It looks like dirt
Or dead leaves
Stagnant water waiting
For the rush beyond
The strength to withstand
Revealing old newness

All those things
In us
About us
Through us
What we are
What we are to become

Black Coffee

I was born in the city
Not too far away from here
People come to call me
There ain’t nobody here

Then you came a-knockin’
Done rattled on my door
And ever since that fateful day
You dropped me to the floor

If you ever think you’re gonna go
You just better let me know
‘Cause I hate drinkin’ my coffee black
Sittin’ here all alone

Baby you’re the sweetener
Baby you’re the cream
If you told me you were leavin’ now
You know I’d have to scream

Make me some of that coffee baby
Just make it any old way you  want
It’s alright with me
Make me some espresso, I don’t care

It’s all good to me!

Next week is our 38th wedding anniversary….so I wrote this for my baby.
Poor thing, she doesn’t drink much coffee any more….but every now and then, we sit over a long cup.
The song….(just a jam)


(About being a child. The smell of fall triggers a waterfall of emotion.
  Freedom is lost to structure and the renewed experience of being chosen or rejected in the new/old social setting we call school)

Darkness falls earlier these days
Without fail
The melancholy wells up

Like thermal mud-pots
Boiling over
With pent up anticipation

Soon there will be a choosing
A renewing 
Confirmation of what I already know

The abyss in my stomach returns
As I reach out
Clumsily grasping for tree limbs

Eyes closed, over the cliff I go
Encircled by perfection
Conscious of every rejection

Life cycles ended in harvest
A new year
But we’re told it’s not yet new year

If I open my eyes
Will I hit bottom?

Oils on canvas – 16″x20″
The sixties was a time when a child would grow up outside. Mothers would tell their children “go outside and play”. We would….oh we would. We were almost feral….until it was time for dinner.
Going “back to school” robbed us of that freedom, and brought the testing of our worldly social skills to the fore. Some of us were very good at it. Some of us simply blended into the lead-painted siding.
Fall for me has always been painted with these experiences, even after all these years.

Sittin’ On A Fence

Sittin’ on a fence
‘Cause I couldn’t decide
Should I travel through the portal
To the other side?

There ain’t much here
‘Cept this fence and me
A coupl-a bushes
A coupl-a trees

And they’re boring!
So boring.
Never talk, nope, they never talk.
They never laugh or sing either!
Just get pushed ’round by the breeze.
That’s all….just sorta hmmmmm
And hmmmmm…or swoosh swoosh swoosh
Like that.

I don’t know why I stay here!
I should just fly through that portal
And find a rEAl AdveTuRe!

That’s what I should do.