aimless joys

Gavotte

2009-10-10T08:46:00.000-05:00

Came across this shot of our noble Pete

taking his time..he'll be seven December 15

middle age, I sincerely hope....

splendid

with Time to spare

Someday was Yesterday

2009-09-25T14:18:00.004-05:00

It's been a long slog here lately.......

But I discovered a new world again

when I went to the mailbox

& this silvery golden green frog prince or princess

(Really, does it matter under these circumstances?)

Plopped from somewhere down inside the red flag

to offer a face off from atop the mailbox

unyielding position despite my surprise & delight,

despite innumerable blinks of red light from my sensor

laser, despite all....

I swear it winked at me.

Then, tiring of my humanity, I suppose, it

popped right back into the flag slot

& shut its eyes for a nap.

Shortly thereafter, my code purple sick pc

returned from its hospital stay, & now

Everything is booming again.

I feel like this caprioling Lippizaner:

Hope you are well & kicking up your heels a bit!

Have Fun!

A Toast or Is It?

2009-08-25T05:57:00.003-05:00

the tiny keys of my adorable red cheap netbook
suppress the Muse, I fear.
It's been a rough go around here since the end of April
but I still feel that Mystery dwelling & welling...
Please forgive my communications shortcomings
because if you do, then I can begin to get back to work
on this testimony--this time around paying more attention
to the Yang part.
My Big Mama desktop pc needs a new motherboard
they tell me...
Someone's coming to install it within the next few days.
My Little Mama's gone to live in the Nursing Home.
I'm usually swooping here & there trying to accomplish
errands & Life Support for 4.
But now, for a moment or two,
here I am on the little red racer,
playing around with the recent past.
Hope you are well.
Here's to better times!

लूकिंग Out

2009-07-20T09:13:00.004-05:00

वेल

Well, I'm back.
After arranging NOT to publish in Hindi--what??
& cropping the photo...
& briefly musing over my feckless month off
Had a real scare last night at 7:45
I had been performing a self-pedicure
& all the stuff all laid out over the hearth
& papers & sewing projects
& color pencils & watercolor painting messes
islands of untidied "creativity"
one of the H's clients called to announce
his ETA at about five minutes
!!!!!!!!!!!!

Scrambling is something I only do for eggs these days
Reminded me of our one br apartment of long ago
where I would quickly stash all extraneous into the bathtub
& close the shower curtain
& be ready w/drinks, chips & dip within 5 minutes

How Time goes by.....

But the H called back to rearrange the meeting to his office
thank the Dear Lord for that.

But I have decided to once again get organized

Let God laugh

but I will do it

if only to be ready when Opportunity knocks

or calls from a cell phone

Sea Change

2009-06-02T07:05:00.002-05:00

Yesterday the word "trudge" turned out to be prophetic.
New avenues open up now,
like the green stripe in the commercial
Now I'm going commercial
going for the green
something just has to be done
& now's the only time to do it
So, like the Gulf Coast gondolier
who amazed me from afar
I'm ambulating
over the water
over the highway
over the grass & the sidewalk
& I have to say
�it feels pretty good
�to set the wheels in motion again

Viewership

2009-04-02T05:03:00.006-05:00

So now They've canceled The Guiding Light

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2009/04/01/guiding-light-canceled-af_n_181863.html

Not that I was watching it at all, in 30 years....

My Grannie was a fan of As The World Turns,
&, since I was with her most of my preschool days,
so was I...
I remember when Lisa was a dewy-eyed adolescent.
I was always struck by the gravity & aplomb
despite unrelenting tragedies
of the pale heroine Ellen....
(silent waters run deep)

But I watched ATWT only once or twice in 20 years
just to see who was still around
& how many gray hairs & wrinkles around the eyes
they had sustained.

The last soap opera I tuned in was an accidental glimpse
of a show I can't even remember the name of...
but it had twin dwarves, one evil & one well-meaning
(unless it was only the Evil One working a ruse),
& a whole lot of wallowing around in bed.

I was shocked, truly, & to the core.

No, I've been way too busy for a very long time
to get hooked on a daytime soap
& yet I am sorry to hear that the empathy quotient
on the part of the stay-at-home demographic
has waned so low due to personified love-lorn mops & brooms,
tooth-whitening, ab-melting products,
& relentless medicine ads
(ask your doctor about it),
& any number of other key factors I'm blissfully unaware of
(perhaps the former audience members are all on the Internet blogging),
has resulted in the demise of a melodrama born in 1937,
an ironic birthdate,
such a watershed
despite being a globally wretched year, indeed.

Other 1937 classics will abide, & so might The Guiding Light,
in another venue. I hope they don't fill the spot with more Punditry.
Or another haughty, snippy Judge from who-knows-where
stating the obvious to the stupid & never missing a cheap shot.

I hope I'm too busy with other things to even find out what replaces it.
Something in the human heart thrives on vicarious suffering.
So, I expect it will have something to do with Suffering.
What, I ask you, does not?

Have Fun!

Chaplinesque by Hart Crane

2009-03-24T19:50:00.003-05:00

Chaplinesque
by Hart Crane

We make our meek adjustments,
Contented with such random consolations
As the wind deposits
In slithered and too ample pockets.

For we can still love the world, who find
A famished kitten on the step, and know
Recesses for it from the fury of the street,
Or warm torn elbow coverts.

We will sidestep, and to the final smirk
Dally the doom of that inevitable thumb
That slowly chafes its puckered index toward us,
Facing the dull squint with what innocence
And what surprise!

And yet these fine collapses are not lies
More than the pirouettes of any pliant cane;
Our obsequies are, in a way, no enterprise.
We can evade you, and all else but the heart:
What blame to us if the heart live on.

The game enforces smirks; but we have seen
The moon in lonely alleys make
A grail of laughter of an empty ash can,
And through all sound of gaiety and quest
Have heard a kitten in the wilderness.

From The Complete Poems and Selected Letters and Prose of Hart Crane by Hart Crane, edited with an introduction and notes by Brom Weber. Used with the permission of Liveright Publishing Corporation. Copyright © 1933, 1958, 1966 by Liveright Publishing Corporation.

Hart Crane was an American poet with a very great gift for seeing, and for the way language changes what is real. Sadly, the despair that is often reflected in his work eventually overcame his appreciation for life. However, his poetic legacy deserves great respect. You can read more about Hart Crane & savor some of his work on Poets.org, here:

http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/233

To take the Multi-Bloglingual Poetry Tour hosted by my friend Jacqui Binford-Bell, go here:

http://binford-bellstudio.blogspot.com/

Have a wonderful time!

Warm Snow

2009-03-04T07:48:00.002-06:00

Today THEY have predicted a warming trend...
Glad to hear it, very glad to hear it...
I've uncovered a forgotten cache of Fabriano paper
22 X 30
& my arm is aching to stroke wide arcs of color.

But, for now, the paper chase continues
& the street is covered with warm white snow
falling from Bradford pear trees
much maligned harbingers of every season
lollipops grown into great clouds
little purple hyacinths in their budding pride
all the worlds follow a circle
today

AH-HA HAH!

2009-02-15T10:25:00.002-06:00

Compare me to JOB & you might call me very lucky
But it seems like the Fates have been spinning the thread
too thin these days---hasn't snapped yet, thank goodness,
I'm reduced to snapping road cracks & stealing shots
off nature programming...

Getting more portraits of human beings, but I cannot show
the teen-aged Macbeths & Tamoras, Joans of Arc & Bruti,
or the baby girl festooned with beads & a rakish sailor hat.

I wrote a blog on Multiply for Valentine's Day:
http://aimlessjoys.multiply.com/journal/item/239/A_Kind_Word_from_the_Loyal_Opposition
& I've signed up for Facebook & Flixster
just at the time I need to be spending
more time outdoors!

It's just that Sunday seems always to bring out the blog
& the blarney in me. However, I am unwilling, evidently,
to do what it takes to parlay this blogorhythm into
a six-figure income:

So I'll consider this blog my occasional platform
my replicant here at Google
I can't say that it's worth anybody's time
But Time is only a concept humans need for organizational purposes,
memories can be embellished or erased or turned into a palmipsest
called what's happening now when I think of Then.
I'll always love this scene from BLADERUNNER.

Hope you enjoy it, too, & also your life each moment.

Have Fun!

Clearing my Conscience

2009-02-08T07:35:00.002-06:00

I'm responsible for the details of a regional Shakespeare Competition
My friend who's writing True Crime asked me to take over
I'm not saying that was a crime (am I?)
I lost my temper
the very point I'm working on conscientiously
I thought

Some people are simply impossible

Maybe I'm one of them

But I detest being lied to

& I especially detest being treated like an idiot

I only hope the student
whose teacher let her/him down
by not taking care of the necessary details
will be there, after all, will be the Dark Horse, The One
that stuns us all with a divine performance

I'm cautiously optimistic
although I know that people follow a pattern
usually
& once unreasonable, twice unreasonable,
very likely to be tertiarially, undeniably, certifiably

UNREASONABLE

again

Very likely all this will settle itself
& the Greater Good will be served
by the structure

This thing is not Open Mic

It has procedures designed to ensure equitable opportunity
because it is a brilliant opportunity
for the brilliant winner,
but these are very young people who depend upon grown-ups
to be grown-ups & own up to their responsibilities...

I said

If it makes you feel better to blame me, go ahead.
Just do this & that & come on to the show.

Let's hope the show goes on with the unknown contestant
& becomes perfect.

I can see it both ways

& it's still a good thing.

2009-02-01T10:56:00.002-06:00

Yesterday I wandered through someone else's garden,

which now belongs to mostly everyone who stops by

to say hello to the little old ladies who guard it.

It felt so good to be in a walled garden in the sun!

The camellias are wearing poorly, lots of nips in them

from the cold winds we've been having, even within a walled garden.

The Japanese magnolias' catkins are bursting.

They'll be blossoming & booming in just a minute or two...

I have been working much more than I usually do,

being of a naturally rather, ahhhh, ambling sort of nature,

who prizes lolling about & thinking of interesting subjects,

nothing too technical or measured, thanks,

but this last month has put my resources to the test...

Patience, for one, & getting past inertia into action,

I've had pressing issues concerning my mom,

& lots of them.

But all the while a voice kept saying

Get out your acrylics!

GET. OUT. YOUR. ACRYLICS.

So, when I finally did follow my own advice,

I found a very special ring & other keepsake jewelry

I had given up on over five years ago.

It drove me crazy for awhile back then,

looking everywhere & wondering

what had happened,

speculating on how they disappeared.

Finally, I had decided that someone

must have needed them more than I did,

& let the worries go away out into the Universe.

Now I know I hid them from myself, evidently,

& revealed them to myself years later,

at a time when this ol' girl

is much more seasoned with irony.

So I have decided the paint that harbored that treasure

must be lucky, & thus I am re-beginning a painting phase.

Now that I've announced it, so must it be.

Capturing light for myself

preserving it for everybody

New Era

2009-01-20T18:21:00.004-06:00

I always like to think something good's on its way...

Today I watched the Presidential Inauguration

All those thousands & thousands of hopeful smiles

the rejoicing

the so ready semi-fumbled promise

the poet's dream of a reality of expanding light

the old minister's quaint & funny prayer

& I felt my heart swell

It did swell with appreciation

as my eyelashes grew crisp with salt

& I knew myself again

as part of my country

whatever that entails

part of a good intention

sometimes managed badly

as all human effort must be

even the best

which this could yet still be

the best we could hope for

for now

2008-12-22T07:21:00.003-06:00

Enjoying the Christmas tree,

& the convivial suppertime together,

I noticed in the fire

a salamander,

calmly burning,

& keeping an eye on us.

Aspirations

2008-11-30T06:44:00.003-06:00

At my son's place for Thanksgiving
Backwards in time
Relaxing
All sense of display

Now we're Home

The new Christmas tree is bare
waiting in its appointed corner
for its moments of glory

all lit up w/no place to go

We sit around, still stuffed
& content, for awhile,
thanks to the energies of other beings
sacrificed to our human needs
until the next wave of celebrating
presents itself

Hey, isn't there always something
to look up to?

2008-11-15T05:10:00.003-06:00

Well, during this waning moon,

I have established a composting system

of garbage cans & a worm farm....

Like Paul Muad-Dibh,

I am breathlessly

still waiting for worms, though.

I 'm de-clutterring again so that

I can enjoy the holidays.

It has been hard for me to break my cable news addiction.

I'm still working on that, struggling to remain

equanimous

lol

the way my meditation teacher told me

equanimous

Came across this op-ed today:

http://cavett.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/11/14/the-wild-wordsmith-of-wasilla/

It's, at the very least, literate & gentle,

& says much more than it says.

So, I'll move along now, myself,

to the garden plans & optimistic propagation

of sassanqua camellias

& other things,

work that is actually fun.

Reminded me of Todd Rundgren, somehow:

Hey, why not?

Have a great Saturday!

2008-10-27T05:03:00.002-05:00

Scary times

build us stronger

strengthen the heart

addle the mind

something inside says

Try Again

Turn the focusing collar

right, left

Line it up

Let it Flow

Deja Voodoo - Kenny Wayne Shepherd

Who's Courting Your Reptilian Brain?

2008-10-09T08:48:00.005-05:00

Please forgive me for getting political again

I suppose elections, even for class president

have always fundamentally appealed to the reptilian brain base

the simplest, reflex-based system

that never dreams

only lives to survive

at any cost

the little fight or flight button

that ramps up the adrenal glands

the most basic part of the brain

that lies beneath

the higher-thinking neocortex

that makes us human.

Certainly the Mad Men of the 50's understood this human trait,

& their adventures with it helped to create Today.

By now we're so acclimated to it

we might not even notice while it's working us.....

I just wanted to send this thought out there:

PLEASE carefully evaluate the claims

& strategies popping up all over the place.

Consider the source.

Consider what it's appealing to....

FEAR

HOPE

It's up to us to understand ourselves
&
make the difference.

Equinox

2008-09-20T20:50:00.002-05:00

The season turns again

latest details

here

Floating along

aimless

but not

brainless

evidently

Brainless

2008-09-08T06:08:00.001-05:00

The same door at the Kimbell

under rain clouds

Mercurial spirit

whispering

into my empty head

Retreating

2008-08-18T07:05:00.002-05:00

I'll be seeing you
in all the new unfamiliar places
Hahahaha
I'll be on the move
(Oscar Mike)
until I get all squared away
& stop this incessant parroting
of things I watched on TV
& have a better grasp
of my own true voice
even if only bits of it
materialize

But I always always always
mean well.

Everything About It Is a Love Song - Paul Simon

You're my Blue Sky, You're my Sunny Day

2008-08-10T06:47:00.002-05:00

There is a panel of blue sky
in the emergency room at Sacred Heart
& you sat there bundled into a flimsy blanket
shivering & scaring the life out of me

The doctor looked like Elvis
jet black hair
pale blue eyes
sideways grin

I suppose we were a novelty
the two of us
among the nosebleeds
baseball injuries
& noisy sufferers
the regulars

you said

We were the irregulars
paying the price
for living so well
except for the small detail
of dental floss
over time

Later, while you slept,
you seemed such an Innocent
there in Clear Conscience Land
I sat on the beach
making mental fun
of my many companions
admiring the real sky
the coral umbrella
(very flattering to the skin, that light)
the emerald fluff's eternal minuet
reflecting upon the sturm und drang

and I just could not help smiling
& bopping a little to the iPod choices
I made before we left
not regretting
a single one

In the Sky - Mark Knopfler

Say Something

2008-07-29T06:23:00.003-05:00

It could mean anything

it could say

mountains

or

river

It could be some forgotten

cursive
rendering
of original thought

It could say

This way to the dead leaf

or

I am usually invisible

It could be a parody
of Alfred Hitchcock

It could be shedding its skin

or feeling life wiggle

inside herself

& stopping to savor that

Viral

2008-07-08T08:11:00.000-05:00

I caught something wonderful today!

Conqueror

2008-06-25T14:22:00.006-05:00

An offer I could not refuse
this blue dragonfly
& unnoticed companion(s?)
claiming an outpost
on a battered post
sat long minutes
pondering

breathing

gazing NNW for some reason
known only to the dragonfly

Sloooooow putters on the green
lining 'em up like Ben Crenshaw

gave me time to play my own game

Women Will Rule the World - Ry Cooder

Back on Track

2008-06-19T06:51:00.004-05:00

Marking Time
the fan blades whirring into one shadow
wings fanning into one blur
hummingbird wings
alial elevation
both feet on the ground
trudging along behind the lawn mower
I salute
the persistence of weeds
& briars
& the bright haze
surrounding the Summer Moon.

Summers Here - James Taylor

Acceptance

2008-06-09T06:56:00.003-05:00

I've been kind of blue
after the demise of the cardinal babies.

One was too big for the nest,
& tipped out the whole lot,
evidently,
judging from the empirical evidence
I found.

What I found...

broke my heart for awhile.

So TODAY

I'll pull a few weeds,

set out the hummingbird feeders

take care of a few other details,

& continue to observe

Nature's Way.

Lullaby Baby Blues - Keb Mo

Bird Business

2008-06-04T07:05:00.002-05:00

I saw the brilliant father stop by
perched on a patio chair--
couldn't get a good shot, though,
& the mother, whose dishevelment,
evidently resulting from just sitting
for so long, endeared her forever to me--
her topknot in such disarray.

But now she's sleek again, & assertive,
a grain of something that looked like a bit of dried corn
glowing within her golden orange beak.

The way she waits for the biggest chick
to stand down so she can reach the smaller ones,

& her fierce pride, flying in the face
of bluejays taunting
like juvenile delinquents on a subway,

or well-meaning humans.

When I approach the window,
from inside my own house,
inside, with camera or coffee cup,
she flies at the glass & her entire
demeanor says

BUZZ OFF

NOW

So I keep in the shadow of a curtain
watching from time to time
as I pass by on other duties
to spy on the progress.

This rich blessing of time--
to love & observe the birds
their colors
their cries...

I leave a small pile of popcorn
just outside the door

Art Lesson

2008-05-25T06:20:00.004-05:00

After twisting & turning

for 2,000 miles, only

for the reward of a 50-mile view,

& s-curves of the road left to travel

back down,

I found myself in Death Valley

on a road so straight

that the vanishing point

vanished.

Transparence - Charlie Haden/Gonzalo Rubalcaba

PROMISE

2008-05-11T08:55:00.004-05:00

This time of morning last Sunday

I was so tired

so tired

so tired of the blessings

I'd driven over the Sierra Nevada

spotted oil wells dotting the Llano Estacado

such beautiful names

for a wilderness

a wilderness

I've been miles deep in caverns

observing the roots of our art forms

toasted with fine wine

chilled by the Pacific's blue

become acquainted with deer

& contented cows

snapped away at picturesque

water fountains

& the majestic Grand Canyon

surrounded by French people

with their mellifluous sounds

spent time with my ambitious son

touring the impossible lighthouse

overlooking a beach with the highest

concentration of white sharks in the world

viewed ancient Egyptian relics

seen a very fine breakfast or two

& a movie that left me wondering

what it means to love something

I loved it all

so much

The face above all others I saw

in Winslow, Arizona

a young Indian baby girl

profoundly sleeping on her father's shoulder

an elderly woman in Wal-Mart

sitting on a bench, waiting

(Was it for me?)

Her white bone adornments

She was so beautiful

that now the memory of her face

brings tears to mine

it was all so wonderful

that last Sunday morning

at just about this time

my weariness caused me to plow

several yards into the profusion

of black-eyed susans & queen anne's lace

gracing the median strip

I was only an hour from home

just like they say it could happen

There was a mist,

the only drops of moisture

I had seen coming from clouds

the entire trip

A mist raining down just over the top of my car...

as if it were a personal rain

falling in through the open window

resuscitating the flowers

& me

Now I know there is something more

I always thought

that there must be

Now I know there is

& it is

Wonderful

Gratitude

2008-04-14T06:39:00.002-05:00

This is just to say
that all is well
I had a dream
that is coming true
& for that I humbly
thank the Universe
every moment
dreams coming true

Crepuscule With Nellie

2008-03-31T08:57:00.005-05:00

Some lights & darks
I remember the first time I met Mimi
She didn't tell me then,
only years later,
that my face & form reminded her
of the only grandmother she had known,
this woman whose tintype
defies sharp focus

There is some connection here, although
I don't feel a physical resemblance.

Something about the eyes
morphs in the series
of lowlight shots I took

Something flows
from our lives
into other lives

We're never truly alone

This woman was Mimi's Grandpa's
younger second wife
after his first love died in childbirth
producing Mimi's wild mother

This one took care
took care
took care
took care

She took care

& left to me
some of her
tender
mystery

Periwinkle

2008-03-18T06:22:00.004-05:00

I found this flower among other things
last Friday as I waited for a car repair
Then I read about the God Hunter
& realized such color
is related to despair

I have known certain people
whose pleasure is despair
(Despair is their pleasure
is what I meant)

They are often poets, I find,
whose eyes & ears are always hungry,
always reaching for the truth
always dreaming a New World

On the other side of Despair,
once you break through it,
is the flower of your thoughts
that returns in cycles.

Even a child can banish despair
with one rich chuckle

Even a bug can banish despair
wiggling its antenna

Even a flower only a few millimeters wide
can banish despair by holding still
for its close-up in a breeze

Do what you can find to do,
or as much as is possible to do,
which is to admit despair
which is to admit hope
which is to sing or dance
your highs & lows & middles

you are the god & the goddess

you are the Chosen One

Gears

2008-03-17T07:03:00.002-05:00

For weeks now, I have been obsessed
with the color white
even though the acid green
of spring flows down from the sky
white, white, here, there, even the sun
behind clouds assumes a pall of white

Maybe I missed the snow
did not get my fill
of winter white

But I have learned that colors speak

They guide me to the things
that are needed

So this brilliant day spent
following mundane tasks

a new fuse drove the flower
of thoughts

to metal & to white

in my shirt brown as a wren

even as colors resound

gaudy pink beginning to shout

the blue, magnificent, subtle,
the white of clouds
every shade of gray
the spectrum

devolving

into pixels & bytes

of myself

Adrenalin

2008-03-11T06:37:00.004-05:00

If I pay attention

only

to what is happening

NOW

All The World

appears

to be looking back

at what I perceive

to be

Me.

But it's only

my chemicals

seeing this

noticing that

& then interpreting

the Beautiful

the Happy

the Sad

all the categories

I'm looking for

are

out there

which is to say

in here

which is to say....

The Other Side

2008-03-05T10:00:00.006-06:00

The morning I first saw the harbingers,

I had been worried about my blood pressure--

what things elevate it,

what things calm it down:

Swimming lazily forward

without a ripple

forward, turn, back,
forward, turn, back,

the air filling up & releasing,

my shoulders gliding along

all the while I think

One

One

One

One

But, oh,

how I love the ones that elevate.

They say

Come Alive!

The World is full of so many Special Opportunities

TODAY.

Welcome to the New World!

Like the dove said without saying

when it landed on the windowsill

holding a green twig,

its shadow flickering

in the watery light.

Dark Into Light

2008-02-25T08:17:00.006-06:00

A poem comes from your body,

but

your poem is not your body.

Your body dreams a poem.

Your poem is a dream body.

Your poem is your dream’s

tombstone to the world.

It says

Thanks for Everything.

Chemicals, That's ALL

2008-02-13T08:06:00.007-06:00

OXYTOCIN & VASOPRESSIN are released......

Researchers can make prairie voles
fall in love—or whatever the vole
equivalent of this is—with an injection.

LOVE . . . .

…lies bleeding
……in a mist
…to love you BABY
……a-ah a-ah a-ah ! ! !

Blinded with science
is a dove in the rocks.
A bunch of grapes
springs like a gazelle!

My delicate fingertips drip with myrrh…
lips crush like honeycomb…
knocking at your gate……I will build
a willow cabin— — —we will stay up late…
and in the morning make perfect crispy waffles !

Negotiate the baffles……
Engineer pointless raaaaaaafffffflllllllleeessssss…
Rhyme purple with orange …
Answer like a chipped brick wall…

Mmmmmy harmmmmmmonious

Apple of Desire,

The Voice of the Turtle m-m-m-m-mocks
The sound of one hand CARESSING.…
Light one candle…
Never curse the Darkness!

(Even The Gideons have to economize
in this day of enfeebled charities!)

If the prairie voles are fools enough,
my Jewel of Ten Thousand Things,
with this Onion-ring I thee bed……
It’s all in our heads,
since science has shown
we’ve no will of our own.
We’re creatures of our amino acids— —
and what do they really know?

Not much.

You?

Caught

2008-02-03T18:56:00.001-06:00

I'd been suffering a bad cold

just lying around like a feverish lizard

but after two days got tired of it

& ventured out to a poetry meeting

with a couple of strange conglomerations

of lines intended to be wryly humorous

or nobly Stoic, maybe you know me

maybe you don't, well,

probably you don't

This is so because I barely know myself

which is why I needed that meeting

to get some inspiration from old friends

even though they write the same themes

again & again

& that's part of them

part of their particular appeal

but then

when it's my turn

& this could just be my impression

well it obviously must be my impression

but after my turn there is general approval

but often someone or other of them

remains gazing at a ceiling tile

or tapping a pen on a notepad

but nobody asks a question

because it is generally assumed

that I have once again

skirted around my central theme

as playfully as usual

using funny words

juxtaposing concepts

like Pink Floyd coinciding

with white truffle searches

among the shredded coconut

that packs my head & a penchant

for supernumerary avatars

& a chorus of dubious laughter

Anyway I took a walk around the gardens

& snapped the shot above

the fading camellia

the honeybee

but after such riches, such luxury

a white mist, a cloud, lay on the surface

of the local bayou, & a lazy plume of fog

encircled a bare cypress tree

& I missed my camera, not to mention

adequate safety to pull over out of traffic

open the window & inhale that view

by the time I got back, the mist had cleared

the bare cypress tree looked winter dead

instead of about to ascend to heaven

just plain, casting spiky shadows now

around the cormorants' favorite haunt

So I was caught feeling sad to have missed

that opportunity, what might have been,

what was that never had been, nor will it ever

be the same again.

Happy New Year

2008-01-01T05:42:00.000-06:00

Last night I ventured out into the cold
to see the stars in the blackest sky
amateur fireworks burst here and there
the popular color being green, lime green

off the shoulder of Orion, I thought

like tears in rain

I thought

the sad companion left behind
with his woes

with his dreams of women

surgically enhanced women

and his foolishness

He just doesn't get it

thinks it's all written on the outside

an open book

if the proportions cohere

I thought

and his grief just makes me tired

(compassion being quite inconvenient at times)

and I thought of my own foolishness
and avoidance of resolutions
other than digital images
which are the only ones that count to me now
that speak to me

I'm planning a trek
across the part of my country
between here and California
parts I have never seen except in photos
and movies
I'll bring along my dog and my cameras
and a cell phone and a laptop
and a nutritional system of my own devising
no tent, just an SUV

I could be dreaming, but the idea
could really grow on me
could become more possible
with each passing day

There was a time I felt a constant companion
but that entity checks in with me less often now
and I keep hoping

hoping

hoping

that when the time is right

I'll see the light

and hear the music

and dance. . .

Bluebird

2007-12-18T16:10:00.001-06:00

I don't know how old this ornament is
maybe it's very old
maybe it's a relatively recent reproduction
I found it in an antique store
& it spoke to me
maybe it chirped
maybe its gilded wings stroked some chord
of memory or of aspiration
I have a soft spot for bluebirds
Although I certainly am no ornithologist
This little bird sways on its string
whenever anyone walks by
it spins a little spin
& when I see it
it always makes me smile

Dream Deferred as Irrelevant

2007-11-18T07:54:00.001-06:00

in the dream i am back in china
i am in the corridor
just outside my room
saying goodbye to some friends,
two women,
& i decide to go to the 10th floor.

i pass through floors of generational gap
assorted levels of tecno decor,
an electronic picture frame,
malfunctioning,

but for a second i glimpse
a snowy mountaintop pointing up
into the blue & there is a car bridge
aligned w/the rising sun
of the winter solstice.

So now I am back in my dear old LEXUS
heading out through gracefully rolling hills
although the mountaintop goal
has somehow receded out of range....

surely it never moved, yet
there remains that possibility.

I decide to walk instead,
abandoning the car
for the chance to absorb more aromas.

I find an old touring bicycle
& am pleased with it...
very pleased.

Such smooooooth synchronicity!

I become slightly disoriented (hah),
so i turn a corner, looking for a spot
of technicolor, grinning like an archaic Kore,
as a tall comedian tweaks my headlight
for the amusement of his stubby companion.

I shake the detritus off my hand into a wire
rubbish can & move along, pedaling, shifting
gears. I realize I am changing again,
changing--I cling to the side of the bike
with my legs & one arm
like a Comanche showman,
aiming my camera up through the handlebars
at a particularly appealing moon gate where
a young girl with a backpack smiles & waves.

Although I realize
I have left the car behind
i move out
into the streaming humanity,
merge w/the traffic
flowing back onto the bridge,
flowing
overhill
& I can see
my hotel
abides,

but i've gone ...much.... too...... far
to stop now.

Heartshadow

2007-11-16T07:34:00.000-06:00

Watching a dead leaf float by...

what kind of thing is THAT to do?

Is it Spleen

or is it some

species of selfishness

that makes a person stop

watch the drift,

clicking away at a shutter,

clicking away at a keyboard,

clicking away to a new window,

deserving the world full of clicks,

part of it,

just as we are part

of that floating leaf,

perhaps,

never knowing

how far our shadow reaches?

Of 2 Minds

2007-11-12T06:54:00.000-06:00

Today is a remembrance

of fine souls given up as sacrifice

to power

to greed

to "principle"

Even if you read between the lines

something needs to change

and soon

River Birch

2007-11-02T05:47:00.001-05:00

November 2,
& all is in suspension.
We don't hit
the glorious peak
until Thanksgiving,
but here's a glimpse
of what awaits
outside the kitchen window,
inchoate,

(always wanted to use that word)

that golden light
that finds a brief window of opportunity
after a few frosts & then the sun
decides to light it up one morning, or one afternoon
depending upon all the factors combining
& then what you see
is what you get
to remember.

whitemare

2007-11-01T08:11:00.000-05:00

A lovely horse is always an experience.... It is an emotional experience of the kind that is spoiled by words. ~Beryl Markham

autobyoddysey

2007-10-28T16:35:00.000-05:00

Wave in Progress--an autobyoddyssey

Antonio Carlos Jobim produced

what I have read described

as the emptiest music on earth.

It is the music of The Stepford Wives.

It is the music of the upscale grocery store,

the Bottega Veneta theme song.

The emptiest music.

At first it was fun.

Then it was escape.

Then it was opportunity.

Then it was titillation.

Then it was retribution.

Then it was a challenge.

Then it was an obsession.

Then I thought it was real.

Then I thought it was imagination.

Then I thought it was so cool.

Then I thought it was a miracle.

Then I thought it was a threat.

Then it seemed to be a duty.

Then it seemed a Divine Obsession.

Then it seemed to rule the earth.

Then the earth grew smaller.

Then the world grew even smaller.

Then my heart grew smaller.

Then I went crazy for a while.

Then I took a road trip.

Then my heart grew cold.

Then I came home to an impossible situation.

Then I realized Aroo! Aroo!

I re-visited the zoo.

Then I remembered my friends.

Then I felt better, much better.

Then I read the Book of Nature.

And I thought about it.

Then it occurred to me

to listen to some music.

Then I went electric.

Then I joined a Lost Tribe.

Then I felt ensnared again.

I wandered aimlessly

to counter purposes.

I found my mother

and she did not know my name.

I swam in a sea of delusions.

I was surrounded

by my own smoke and mist.

Murky images of the future

danced before me. . .

Shades of past music

patches of light

laughter, raucous or subtle,

bitter tears and broken glass

Then I noticed how rays of the sun

magnify through the bits

the infinite variety of sky

the waving grass on its way

how everything seen breathes

through the invisible water-crystal

how things unseen move through

the crystal that makes it happen

that saves life for the fire

and I thought

Psychics can never accurately

predict the future.

Of course not.

The future is ever-changing.

It changes even as you notice it.

True for everyone . . .

True for Everyone.

So, then, it follows that our only possession

is this control of the present moment.

That is the only thing we can own,

even though it often seems otherwise,

and it constantly moves, like a wave.

Somewhere

2007-10-22T06:26:00.000-05:00

Dancing the Wheeeeeeeeeeeel

2007-03-15T08:57:00.000-05:00

(Nine goes for Three)

a soldier many times, I died
in nameless battles, white, yellow, black, red,
bellowing warcries, a good day to die,
grasping the atlatl, banging my shield,
the assegai, swinging the double axe,
whistling arrows, poison-tipped,
longsword, lance, crossbow,
grenade, bayonet, sniper'’s rifle,
all of them mine and for me
the gore, the pain of fallen brothers
all of us nourish the grass again

walking through tall cypresses
treading soft, a wary victim
choosing berries, snatched away,
abandoned child, left behind,
I wail for my mother.
an open door for anyone again

a spilled oil lamp, a tree trunk fire,
cool water in a jar
I danced and sang the hunters home
wearing bones, teeth, claws, a turquoise
to keep away evil and remember the sky again

A Huguenot in a cathedral
the bodily memories flow through me
the flames at every door
bright windows blackened with smoke
conviction of my stiff-necked pride
and proof that I was right again

whispering silk, lace, diamonds
my art in swaying an ivory fan
laughing at fate, afraid, timorous,
haughty, humble, a spectacle
to give the people hope
a burden on the privy purse
a cruel wit, avid for gossip
falling down in fear of the mob again

scraping the hides, rubbing in brains,
softening, nursing a baby,
nursing a grudge, on horseback
seeking vengeance, being avenged
suffering pain, causing pain
chosen for sacrifice
tempting fate, a stumbling-block again

a confident creature, a builder of arches,
rejoicing the majesty
in the colors of stained glass
in the strength of my fingers
mastering the stone again

the joy of the ripple of oxygen
in the blood that carries the memory
from the tips of the toes to the legs,
the belly, the chest that warms
the odors, the bouquet of life
that savor of salty water
again and again

in the aqueous humour
the prickling flesh
reptilian, limbic, the neocortex
explosions of light and the
knowing again

to aspire to express
to build to inhale it all again

I don'’t want detachment
It's union I seek
to merge
to engage
with life
again and again
and again

Crazy Love

2007-02-17T17:57:00.000-06:00

Empty House

2007-02-07T10:29:00.000-06:00

Each time I went back to see Belle’s house after she died,

I always found something significant to her memory

I found that others had been there, and the beds

were tumbled and rumpled, then gone

One dresser was marked with adhesive tape

and someone had written in schoolteacher script, Eloise.

Now who was that, I thought, it was Aunt Bunchie,

dead before her mother was, and so the dresser

was for my cousin. I found the little bobble-headed

Chinese children with magnets in their lips

a provocative plaster mammy notepad holder

Grannie’s seasoned pie pans, her crockery mixing bowls

2007-02-05T16:36:00.000-06:00

Dragon Boats

2007-02-05T16:34:00.000-06:00

When you look at clouds
& see something
not a cloud
you are seeing
what is really
on your mind
when you tell
someone &
they see it, too,
exactly what
does that mean?

A True Story

2007-02-02T07:28:00.000-06:00

That summer Gramma Belle, ma belle grand-mère
communing with the fireflies,
enfolded in the heat, dusty gardenias, cashmere bouquet
heliotrope, lilies, citronella candle, cotton blooms,

told me of the time when she and Aunt Maddie
sat together on the wagon seat, holding hands,
two rosebuds, one pink and one pale yellow,
in their Montgomery Ward silk dresses,
Gibson girl chignons,
like two geisha hopefuls.

Grandpa Purvis chucked the horses to a trot,
humming into his red beard, “Sweet Adeline.”
as they drove over to the Winnsboro Ladies’ Tea-Dance.

Then how they sat together,
legs swinging under the barren pew
while the Philistine preacher castigated them for pride,
his vitriol left sparks that rainbowed in Maddie’s hair
and Belle had all but snickered at the sight.

How they laughed over his red face and clumsy hands
gesticulating, and how they from that day kept joyous Sundays
at Home.

How grand-père Jean Hardin came to visit
and his horses trampled the strawberries so flat
that Grandma Purvis never forgave him,
even though he lived under her roof,
until her deathbed, where she grandly forgave
everyone, everything, and left this world smiling.

Letter from Gracie

2007-02-01T18:07:00.000-06:00

Last words from Atlantis: Glub, Glub

Well, yes, I have just discovered that there exists such a thing

as the Louisiana Tumor Registry. As I searched

for the number of the Registrar to locate my tardy

paperwork, there it was. I could just punch in a number

and talk to a person who sat and archived state tumors.

The possibilities! Sooooooo, that led me to ponder

why my home state has a tumor registry.

I mean, isn’t it bad enough that the Cajun Riviera,

the shrimp, crab, and oyster haven for the country,

not to mention the cloaca of the entire Mississippi River Valley

and beyond, as far as Saskatchewan and the Catskills,

is dissolving

into the Gulf of Mexico

a football field’s worth every 45 minutes!*

So now we have a tumor registry, too?

Am I the only one to find all this extremely alarming?

Last week the nice giraffe and one of the threadbare

ostriches at the sad local zoo plunged mutely

into a great sinkhole that filled with water,

and they drowned.

Now, that is tragic,

and do not think for one minute

that I feel otherwise about it,

but the distraught zoo director,

after another sinkhole appeared,

requested that the road crew drive their equipment

round and round the enclosure

to see if any new holes would swallow them up.

I suppose

he felt it would be some kind of poetic justice.

Another sinkhole took Calypso Street under,

and that runs just south of the Courthouse.

It took a whole year to repair it. Some wag

from the Mayor’s office has re-dubbed it

Collapso Street, the best joke I have heard in a while.

And the same thing could happen to New Orleans.

Anyway, the Saints always stink after the first half.

Hey, why should I worry?

I always wanted a house on the water,

and the next hurricane could make my dream come true.

Anyway, I still, and always will, just love to swim!

Much Love to You-All,

Gracie

Alive, and well on Tralfamadore,

Special Thanks to Janis Joplin and Billy Pilgrim XXOOXX!

And, MLL, thank you for reminding me that the tea at the Palaz

is still very fine!

* Bayou Farewell, by Mike Tidwell (the solution)