Monthly Archives: April 2012

~Unstill Life, Complete~

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She didn’t notice
didn’t look through the window pane
to see the approaching storm
Didn’t catch the scent in the air
warning her of danger approaching
so busy with life she was
Until it was almost too late
It was the whistling wind
like a hurting animal or distant lover
a persistent sound carried from
there to here
When she finally lifted her eyes
saw the swirling mass
precious minutes were lost
She remembered her husband
the baby, her grandmother, the cat
not all could be saved
the tornado had now moved from
there to here

The overripe pears lay untouched
sprawled across the white tablecloth
on the red oak kitchen table
A pitcher of cream, a bowl
an antique silver spoon are
on the linoleum counter waiting
for a chance to be helpful
which will never come
The deserted farmhouse is wary
worn wooden flooring speaks
of a rushed departure
bags dragged, many pairs of feet
rushing out the front door
Each imprint in the dust
tells a silenced story ~
each pear and its
pungent fragrence ~
the spoiled and clotted cream ~
are mysterious scars left behind
of unknown fear, tragedy or circumstance
left for me to fill in the frame and image
of what took place months and months ago

I found her alone
in a cafe, next town over
What she thought would be
torn linen curtains, flooring ripped
a shadow of darkness
after the hungry mouth had devoured
all the food in its path
never happened
the monster sought a different meal
She was left knowing
what she was capable of
the decision she had rendered

who to save

I stood in front of her
not knowing what to say
for the monster had taken
more than I had imagined
Her sleepless, shattered eyes
a skeletal frame of a woman
weary posture of shame
spoke to me – wordlessly
I wanted to ask why?
But when she lifted her eyes
raised her arms to the sky
and screamed, “why did I do it?
I realized I didn’t know her why
at all and then –

She asked:
Are the pears still there?
Yes.
The cream?
Yes.

Just as you left them.

~Prelude – Unstill Life~

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She didn’t notice
didn’t look through the window pane
to see the approaching storm
Didn’t catch the scent in the air
warning her of danger approaching
so busy with life she was
Until it was almost too late
It was the whistling wind
like a hurting animal or distant lover
a persistent sound carried from
there to here
When she finally lifted her eyes
saw the swirling mass
precious minutes were lost
She remembered her husband
the baby, her grandmother, the cat
not all could be saved
the tornado had now moved from
there to here

 

(Below, previously posted)

The overripe pears lay untouched
sprawled across the white tablecloth
on the red oak kitchen table
A pitcher of cream, a bowl
an antique silver spoon are
on the linoleum counter waiting
for a chance to be helpful
which will never come
The deserted farmhouse is wary
worn wooden flooring speaks
of a rushed departure
bags dragged, many pairs of feet
rushing out the front door
Each imprint in the dust
tells a silenced story ~
each pear and its
pungent fragrence ~
the spoiled and clotted cream ~
are mysterious scars left behind
of unknown fear, tragedy or circumstance
left for me to fill in the frame and image
of what took place months and months ago

~Unstill Life~

Standard

Image

The overripe pears lay untouched
sprawled across the white tablecloth
on the red oak kitchen table
A pitcher of cream, a bowl
an antique silver spoon are
on the linoleum counter waiting
for a chance to be helpful
which will never come
The deserted farmhouse is wary
worn wooden flooring speaks
of a rushed departure
bags dragged, many pairs of feet
rushing out the front door
Each imprint in the dust
tells a silenced story ~
each pear and its
pungent fragrence ~
the spoiled and clotted cream ~
are mysterious scars left behind
of unknown fear, tragedy or circumstance
left for me to fill in the frame and image
of what took place months and months ago

~For Gaia~

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If I put my ear to the ground
let the mud coat my fingers
as I push closer to her pulse
I can hear her calling me
her voice a soft whisper
like a gentle summer rain
soothing and comforting
the parched land of my people

She reminds me of the
history carved in my bones
the stories that travel
like gypsies in my veins
days of lush and vibrant glory
green fields, yellow wildflowers
horses with manes flowing

My memory sketches
the movement of the four elements
through my body and soul
the earth spinning I cling to her
transforming, coming alive again
from my living death
a trellis of green veins grow on my skin
spring flowers sprout, crowning my head

The obstacle is the path, Gaia says
as she takes flight with the winged sprites
leaving me with the song of my ancestors
pulsing through my blood

~Grazing the Surface~

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She waits for me
by the worn white fence
her patient eyes are weary
Her majestic body so tired
The sweet grass is now thin
a once blue sky now gray

I approach her tenderly
reach out my hand to
caress her long neck
softly cooing in her ear
my love for her
Her hoof kicks up
tufts of dirt into the air

Gracefully she accepts
the carrot resting on my fingertips
nibbles, contemplates, nibbles
I surrender to her and she to me
as she places her chin on
the palm of my outstretched hand

In this hushed moment
of birds chirping, bees buzzing
the air is still and peaceful
And I
I am tethered to her heart
feeling if I try hard enough
I too can be as wise
as she is, here
on the other side of the fence

 

 
Ancora Imparo

~NYC~

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The city carefully layers
gold and silver under our ribs
creating an echo and rhythm
a precarious balance
within our very soul
vibrating chords our fingers
can only hope to strum
as we become part
of the beautiful cacophony
undulating wave after wave
of hope and despair, joy and sorrow
love and loss, light and shadow
while we walk the maze of streets
under the protective shelter
of steel and wood giants