Searching, Dreaming, Finding

This 4900 square foot Victorian beauty is truly a sight to behold and I enjoyed running through it!

Odors from strange houses cling to my clothes, filling my nostrils with memories both pleasant and repulsive. I sneeze.  My eyes begin to water.  My head begins to ache.  My mind begins to wander, back through each house I've seen.  I am left wishing that, in a Frankenstienian way I could combine different elements from each of the houses.  The wood floors from here.  The carpet from there.  The appliances from four houses back.  The woodwork from the favorite house.  The mast suite in the dream house.  A combination of all the office spaces.  The price of the first house.

My head swims with indecision.  Arguments fire back and forth inside my mind and amongst my company.  A decision must be made.  And I know that with whatever decision is made there will be regrets for the ones passed over.  When the decision is made, I will wash my clothes free of all these strange fragrances as I will try to cleanse my mind of all the other choices left behind and focus on all the ones to come.

This was stenciled in the master bedroom of the above Victorian home which was in foreclosure.

Searching for Home

Rain on my face

as I turn to the sky

eyes smile as

I shout

"Hallelujah!"

My kingdom has come

and I would dwell here

the rest of my days

New Release!

I have released my new collection of poems on Amazon.  BLOOM TO FADE speaks of love from its inception to the bitter end to survival. These poems span a lifetime.  Some are personal.  Some are written from the point of view of people I've known or characters in stories I've written.  Here's the first poem in BLOOM TO FADE:

Duas medietates occursum
Factus totum
Et consumet unum alius
numen avertat

 Two halves meet

Become a whole

And destroy one another

God forbid

That first moment when your eyes meet and you feel all the feels and you want to melt.  It's all in there.  So order it from Amazon and give it a read!

RELIEF

How I crave to be held

By a lover’s gaze

Held by his eyes

Unable to escape

As his lips approach

And his arms embrace

The world is heavy

And I crave relief

A drought of

Passionate haze

To rise above

The drowning waves

Heated and misty

My eyes steam like his

Burning with visions

Of things forbidden

Still we stay locked

A swagger in time

Forgotten for a moment

The world left behind

Rebirth

The phoenix begins

to write her lists

kindling for her 

funeral nest

She has no fear

of change to come

endings and beginnings

are always one

moving closer 

to days of fire

to be reborn from

the funeral pyre

What is this new thing

that she will be

from the ashes

she'll fly free

THE 70'S

When I hear the phrase "The 70's" I think of a wooden door thunking close onto a swinging bell, of bare feet walking onto an air conditioned cooled concrete floor, the wall air conditioner whose hum I can hear over the swoosh and squeak of the ceiling fan, the smell of mothballs mixed with tobacco, earth, and chocolates, the ice chilled glass bottle of a Dr. Pepper after the metallic glass clink when the top's popped off, of momentary sanctuary from the heat, the grime, and the toil.  This is "The 70's" to me.

The Ring

My mother suffers from rheumatoid and osteo-arthritis.  Her hands are gnarled and twisted to the point that it’s hard for her to perform some daily tasks that we take for granted.  A couple of years ago she made the decision to give each of her daughters and granddaughters her rings and her necklaces that had clasps (which she could no longer work).

She gave me the wedding ring from her second marriage.  My step-father was a pleasant man in the beginning but then he changed and our situation changed.  By the end of his life I hated him and was glad to see him go (being perfectly honest here).  So when she first gave me the ring – two linked hearts with a tiny diamond in the middle – I looked at it in a negative way.  It made me think of “him”.  I couldn’t wear it anyway because it was sized so large to fit over my mother’s enlarged arthritic knuckles.  I put it away for a while not wanting to look at it. 

Earlier this year I decided to have an antique ring resized for my husband as a surprise for his birthday.  I thought I’d resize Mom’s ring at the same time on a whim.  When it came back it was not only resized but cleaned as well.  It sparkled beautifully and looked nice on my hand.  It reminded me of Mom’s hands – when she cooked for us, cleaned the house, folded the laundry, tended our wounds, worked in her flowers.  The ring no longer reminded me of my step-father or their marriage anymore.

I brought the ring with me on this year’s Christmas trip.  I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to see her due to her recent health problems and my recent cold (which she couldn’t be exposed to).  Then I got the call on the day I was to visit her that she’d been rushed to the ER. The drive from my husband’s family to the hospital was an hour.  While getting everyone ready and during the drive, my mind worried over the situation with my mother.  I feared that I may lose her.  She’s 74 years old and the reality hit that she wouldn’t be with me forever.

 I looked at the ring, turning it nervously around my finger.  The two hearts joined together began to take on a new meaning for me.  Instead of it representing the joining of Mom and my step-father, it reminded me of the link I will always have with my mother whether she is with me or not.  My mother wasn’t perfect when we were growing up but she loved us.  She will always love us.

Thankfully when I arrived at the ER she was fine and not long after they released her.  While I was in her little ER cubicle, talking to her (and calming my own anxieties), she noticed the ring.  She smiled a little smile, happy to see me wearing it, and said, “I see you’re wearing my ring.”  I felt warmed and comforted somehow that she approved.  As I was leaving she gave me a strong hug that said a thousand unspoken things.  And my heart was healed just a little more.

Storm as Muse



Taken on the night of the Blue Moon 2012



Thunder echoes

the valleys shake

rain blows in

sideways

I watch the sky

light with streaks

and I hold no fear

knowing you're with me

I bow my head

to the pillow's shape

close my eyes

say my thanks

Feeling you near

I have no reason to fear

I hold your love

with the covers tight

blow out the candles

say good night

holding you dear

on a stormy night