Posted in Art, Poetry, Soul Journal

Woodland Echoes

Printmakers paper, acrylics, ephemera, found leaves, coffee stains, and a piece of my poetry. With painted pages ready to add additional words, feathers, pressed flowers or leaves, and whatever else a heart desires.

Found in the Lost Pile of Civility (Jan 2019)

Seems to me
as we slowly decline
we beat around the bush
contemplate how to survive.

Generations realize this drift
on a sail-less boat
the cloth wrapped around our bleeding hearts
words confessed on bended knees
misses the sliver in private eyes.

Same old, same old story.
The beginning is the end.
The terror in other's minds
now belongs to us.
Realize hungry is,
as was,
and nothing eaten satisfies.

Measure our words against ourselves
need I stand upon a soapbox
add my rhetoric to humanity's misery?

As ash buries the smoldering coals
are we aware we are wandering
found among the lost pile of civility?
Posted in music, Photography, Poetry

Melody โ€”Senryลซ

Bright Side of the Pink Moon
seeking familiar
loneliness settles towards pitch
the strum of a string

https://youtu.be/OmKCb9LcEoM https://youtu.be/kIB7a7f_keQ https://youtu.be/Ny6QK_E5BrY

Yesterday. I once played this song continuously on the guitar I bought myself in high school. As a teen, my summer days were spent babysitting for a divorced mom who worked for The Braille School in Milwaukee WI. The family came from New Zealand and had sheep rugs scattered throughout the house and ate lots of vegemite. The kids had a cat named Erasmus and a pet goldfish, whose name eludes me. The dad was a small-engine pilot and flew planes out of Oshkosh WI. I wonder where they are now?

Cheers ๐Ÿป mates and good day!

Posted in Poetry

First Hint

Copyright free image.
His words appeared
as green shoots
in frozen brown
and I waltzed into
the memory of smell,
a fragrance he once wore
on the crisp autumn air.

The seasoning chimes
and the raw breath released,
he floated away
with me
curving through the cumulus
and running breeze.

Posted in Poetry

storm to safety

winding up
to blow over
everyone
and everything
that stands in my way…
i sense no path -forward
or backward
isolated in a forest
with overgrown fears
closing in
surrounding my feet

i change my mind -escape
and morph into another
hiding once more
an invisible ticket
expired and worn
barely readable
the conductor puts on his glasses
and hangs his head…
the fog thickens

expands

and -poof
persistence
fades as quickly
as memory
is no path
to walk
or hold hands.

(tough morning… so i wrote in hopes peace could ensue… 9/19/2018)

Posted in Photography, Poetry

john

he says
not your friend
but he cannot fathom
the depth
of his words
carved on stone

“goodbye”

my weakest point
and i tremble
at being alone
even in my happiness
tears well
knowing he is gone

—–

I sincerely hope he finds what he is seeking. What he believes he needs. ๐Ÿ˜š๐Ÿ˜‡

Posted in Poetry

ramble on

i may never
meet such a man -again

covered in satin
words edged in diamonds
born in his throat
the fire sparked through

never heard a syllable
the rat-a-tat-tat -thunder

our hearts beating faster
he hides in my hair
a stinger barette
left behind to chew

Posted in Art, Memoir, Musings, Poetry

Going to get all crazy on WP

9:10 am (Eastern time)

Reading over Facebook Memories, lol ๐Ÿ˜ and noticed a post from February 10, 2012. Sometimes Facebook can be a blessing. Yes?

9:19 am (Eastern time)

Share past post and wrote an epilogue:

Not sure I ever finished these thoughts on RISK… funny how my mom continually told me i was a mess. Who made me this way? Scatter brained. What i call creative. Whirling leaf on the wind… but get me on the dance floor! ๐Ÿคฃ๐Ÿ’™๐Ÿ•Š๐ŸŽถ Never too late to consider this RISK of searching out who i am. Slowly the picture is becoming clear…beginning to figure me out!! My mom never understood me. Not sure she tried.

9:41 am (Eastern time)

I never posted follow up thoughts to RISK because i lost focus. Was thrown back into the wind and was caught up in the chaos around me. I juggle an impossible six things at once… oh! I feel for Alice.

My goal this week, if any one cares, is to focus on RISK. It will be a challenge as there is much going on behind-the-scenes.

Moving from Indianapolis to Boston means packing, updating the house to sell, going on interviews, and helping my daughter graduate high school.

Moving means all my writing room is packed away and all my posts are being constructed on my phone. Not the most ideal platform, but i keep tapping away.

Moving itself is a risk. So much unknown but i have never felt stronger to journey forward. This turning point is an adventure into the unknown. I am quite excited if you care to know. Banish the naysayers once and for all!

9:48 am ( Eastern time)

I have risked opening up but I welcome it. I was fearful of the voices. I fought and found courage. Confidence is back.

I continue to write. I risk it all. My reputation. People i love exposed.

9:59 am (Eastern)

I shudder at risk. It is cold and feels nothing for me. Risk is bold and i am small in comparison. But i rise to the challenge. I crack open again. Both to release the venom and soak up the water spilled from the sky. I am a walking desert afraid to cry. I have been on this horse running from terror and now terror invites me in.