David

Alabaster
Charming master
Lips are made of stone

Hard concrete
Feels so sweet
Chills me to the bone

Love can be...

Love can be tough and sinewy
Love can be tender and sweet
Love can be hard iron
Love can be soft talcum sprinkles
Love can be...

Random Photo...

Walls

Climbing up the walls inside,
in dealing with my foolish pride.
Unearthing hidden splendor where,
it otherwise hung limp and bare.
Pain has dulled into a roar.
There's so much more of life in store.

Wedding Guests

As a child, I recall
Endless parades of migrating birds
"That's my wedding" we would shout
Monarchs flitting about on the wind
Catching buckets full of toads

Bottle Tree

Mashing her thoughts together
like last nights potatoes
She stays too long in the past again
Staring at nothing and seeing everything
Analyzing her own weak condition
Bottles whistle and shine on the tree
Cobalt instruments of the wind
Keeping away the troubled spirits

Attention Span

Homeless veterans stacked like cordwood upon the city sidewalks.
warriors sleeping on cement beds.
Rats and roaches invade the schools.
while insulation falls on lunch trays.
Young men armed to their shiny gold teeth.
all you are is all you know.
Using up carbon like it's an infinite resource.
no care for clean energy.
Corporate suits hold black tie affairs
while sipping their chocolate martinis
and counting their bits of paper.

"Margaret said that the Hamptons are quite nice this time of year."

WOMAN

Oh soft spoken, kind and gentle man...
Can't you see her needs?
She needs strong arms to hold her
She needs strong words to keep her
She needs strong deeds to protect her
Gallant and Brave and Chivalrous
Surprising and Sensual and Romantic
Someone who can't keep their hands to themselves
Someone besides herself, to initiate love
Someone who will curl up in soft sheets with her,
while the morning sun peeks through the window
She has never exhaled

She longs to be a WOMAN
Soft and warm and safe and loved
She cries herself to sleep,
wondering if she will ever get to feel this way again
She should never have been doing your job
She doesn't want to be the disciplinarian
She doesn't want to be the man
She doesn't want any of it

Looking a gift horse in the eye

Spreading your words like a sweet icing
Glossing over her pain with the same tired prose
Put on display in a shiny window, then
boxed up and tied with twine
Given to her as a gift
One she's received one hundred times before
She has no need to unwrap them now
It's become easy to quote gifts verbatim
Binding the gift horses mouth,
she can't wait to feel like a woman again

Stacey.2

I was there when she had her son
her aura radiated such warmth
I was there to shoot pool with her after work
even though we were both amateurs
I was there to make breakfast after a late night
she never was one for breakfast
I was there when she got married
Michael and Stacey forever and ever
I was there when she needed a shoulder to cry on
she hadn't been offered too many
I was there when her heart was broken
wish I could comfort her now
I was there when she lost her husband
my consoling was all I could give
I was there as an adult, as her best friend
since the day she arrived in town
I was there to give her a home when she had no place to go
she slept there most of the time anyway
I was there to give her a job when she was broke
she was a waitress, I was the bartender

I wish I had a nickel for every laugh we shared
I would be a rich woman

Her favorite perfume was Exclamation!
I will never forget the aroma
Her favorite song was Welcome to the Jungle
she just loved heavy rock music
Wednesday night we always met up at the Stagecoach
dancing and laughing and ogling young men
She always slept with the blanket almost covering her face
hiding from her dreams

She let me read her handwritten journals
Trusting me enough to keep her darkest secrets

Her childhood was bitterly painful

She wrote about
abandonment and alcohol
Not Girl Scouts and pizza

She wrote about painful memories

She wrote about
a mother she felt wasn't there for her
a father who wouldn't claim her
She needed love like she needed oxygen
Gasping for it time and time again

I know she found it briefly

I have had many friends in my lifetime
she was one of the special ones

Leaving

When I told you I was leaving,
it was so you'd call me back.
Not so you could shut the door,
and peek out through the crack.

And watch me holding little hands,
to walk away in tears.
Just how DO I get back,
the last damn twenty years?

Thoughts on becoming invisible

Faint outlines of myself are all that's left
They see right through me now...to the outside
Green fields and pines and horses
I'm slowly fading away to nothing
I cry out, "I'm still here!"
My ghostly frame walks these halls
When I point out their flaws to be corrected, they direct all arrows my way
Dimming my life-light even more
Don't they see I just want normalcy?
I want to come home exhausted, knowing my lover waits to hold me
I want some praise for accomplishments, but they never come
I want their eyes to light up when they see me
But they can't see me
When the children were young, I was in technicolor
That old peacock had nothing on me
When I was young and taut and nubile, my lover saw me every time
But now my aging outline is barely there
Soon to be gone...invisible

Hold Your Tongue

Hold your tongue, my dearest
Speaking will only ruin this moment
Suns are exploding behind my eyelids
Stars are miniscule inside my mind
To let them go is a wonder, that only you can release
To keep them stored, an abomination

My dearest, hold your tongue
Let your waves wash over my shores
Soothing tides replenish my love
The moon pulls you towards me
Holding lunar thoughts of us entwined
My darling, hold your tongue

Psalms

I held your hand and read you Psalms.
The room smelled sterile.
You smelled sterile.
What happened to your smell?
The one I remember from your hug?
The smell of your coat and your hat.

The machine is beeping,
while your hand is growing colder.
My thoughts are deep.
Where were you at that moment?
In the place between awake and asleep?
The place we all wonder about.

I look across the bed at my sisters, your daughters.
Holding your other hand.
Waiting for the machine to stop,
and the screaming to start.
Holding their breath.
Knowing what's coming.

Your own breathing is labored.
You look so old and helpless.
Transparent and fragile like eggshell porcelain.
You drank from the teacup of life.
61 is a terribly young age to leave this world.

The moment crept up on us.
I smoothed your hair while telling them
it was okay.
It's Okay....He's Okay...He's alright now
A cloud surrounded me, enveloped me.
Smoothing your hair, while screaming comes from far away.

Pain

Burning Shooting
Twirling Turning
Creeping Crawling
Numbing Hurting
Bruising Pulsing
Hiding Waiting
Taking Taking
Taking Taking

Heavenly Anniversary

She came to me in a dream last night
Face was smiling, hair was white

No longer a farm wife, cooking and cleaning
I'm sure this dream had some wonderful meaning

She wore a gold necklace, embedded with stones
Each one for a child she had called her own

No apron tied around her clothes
Youthful body, no more woes

I hadn't dreamt of Grandma, since she passed
I didn't want to wake up...I wanted it to last

I hugged her and told her I'd never seen her so fair
I knew in my heart that this moment was rare

But the rooster crowed and the sun did shine
I told the family of the dream of mine

My mother asked, When did you have this dream?
I think I know what it may mean

The anniversary of her wedding was the day before last
Only Mother knew that it had quietly passed

Grandma was dressed up so pretty and bright
Because Grandpa Pete took her out for the night

They went riding on moonbeams, and chasing the sun
Drinking the raindrops, Celestial fun

Depression

Depression never leaves
Always clinging to your last drops of good spirit
Your last bits of happiness
Turning your own world against you
Tearing your life from your grip
Just when you think you have it beat
It beats you

3 Crows

Three crows flying North to South
Shadows cast on fields of green
Every day they hurry by
Floating in a line
A trio of order
No time to stop and chat
I lean forward in my rocker
Straining my ears to hear
Once in awhile a brief hello escapes their beaks

So Clever

4,000

4,000 funerals
4,000 empty beds
4,000 vacant chairs at the table
4,000 voices silenced
8,000 mourning parents

The numbers grow higher each day

The Willow Tree

My heart is with the Willow tree
Whose limbs hang heavy and low
An arching frame
Arcs of green
If by the water, magical
If by the graveyard, fitting
Of all the trees of which to claim
My love it is the Willow tree

Estate Sale

Burrowing in other peoples belongings
(an invader in a foreign land)
Clammoring for delicate china
(the set Aunt Mary served Thanksgiving on)
Tightly grasping feedsack quilt tops
(the ones Grandma never quite finished)
Boxing up the Waterford crystal
(that Cousin Grace collected for years)
Leafing through antique poetry books
(that lulled a thousand children to sleep)

Pieces of them

go away
one box at a time.

Hippie

She grew her herbs in a windowsill
..the sun overstayed its welcome there
Macrame owls with wooden eyes
..hung by loops holding ivy and aloe
Recycling before it was 'the thing' to do
..newspaper stacked neatly by the door
Patchouli lingers in the breeze that's
..coming in the screen, blowing across the basil
Woodsy smell of cannabis and tea
..scents combined to create a signature

Twinless Twin

In utero, only ten weeks along
Two boys fought bravely to live
Not surprised by the pair, as I had twin boys already
Mother is a twin, Father is a twin, numerous sets of cousin twins
Never could I have imagined that I would lose your brother
My twinless twin, your brother is with you in your soul
He will be with you all of your life
Your reflection in the mirror will be his way of assuring you he has not gone
Smile for him sweet boy...and let him know his mother loves him

The Pines

Well I couldn't be happier laddy
I found my home today
She's hidden in the pines ya know
And carefully tucked away

Walking in the door, you feel
Your stepping back in time
Porcelain sinks and cupboards tall
And two places to dine

Windows reach from floor to ceiling
Claw foot tubs to soak your sin
Sunshine lurks 'round every corner
All are welcome, Come on in

Escape

When stairways wound to leaded glass
And deep Oak stain glowed red with age
Wine is slumbering deep below in luxury
Hearty laughs have echoed loud
Cotillions and silk and dreams of the rich
A girl makes her way to the window
One last goodbye before she goes
She certainly didn't choose to be born here
She gathers up her luggage and slips quietly out the door

Going Home

Her house has that familiar smell
That takes your breath away
The warmth of Mothers arms again
To keep the wolves at bay

Faces looking just like mine
Are smiling in reply
Tales are told, babies held
We laugh until we cry

Going home is deceptive
Not all is as it seems
Factories forever looming
No promises or dreams

The neighborhood now seems faded
Her colors turned down just a hue
The taverns are full, the welfare rolls
And we're all enjoying the view

Hope is a tonic

A man stepped out from among the crowd
Demeanor calm, his voice was loud
He said great things are yet to be
Have faith in you, have faith in me

Oh My

The time has come to see them off
And they're taking the baby away...oh my
They're taking the baby away

The kids have grown, must make their own
And they're taking the baby away...oh my
They're taking the baby away

No more sing-songs or lullabyes
They're taking the baby away...oh my
They're taking the baby away

No more sweet smells or infant sighs
And they're taking the baby away...oh my
They're taking the baby away

The one thing I cling to, in order to live
And they're taking the baby away...oh my
They're taking the baby away

Time Traveler

Shaking the stardust out of her hair
She had safely made it to the other side again
Time traveling had become her latest obsession
Wearing period clothes, she strolled along the avenue
Parasol in one hand, gloves and pocketbook in the other
Her hands traced patterns on Russian enamel vases
A massive bronze statue of Diana stared down at her while
a fountain splashed and danced in the background
She stood in a chapel of Louis Tiffany design
Ate Cracker Jack and rode the ferris wheel
Gazed at works by L'Hermitte
Chicago, World's Fair, 1893

Mrs. Cook

Mrs. Cook wore her hair swept up in a bun
Her dress covered in a long apron

Wide brim hat when she was out in her garden
Husband came home smelling of whiskey every day
Sister and I would visit her when he was at work
Kindly and small and ancient to me
Her face wore the lines of a thousand years
Tiny house kept tidy and warm
Only to turn into a shack when I reached adulthood
She was laid to rest on a sunny day
The obituary clipping is in my bible

Widow's Walk

The salty air does nothing to calm her darkest fears

She waits upon the cliff-top, seems like it has been years

Her home provides a widow's walk, but that would mean defeat

And so she waits along the shore, the waves keeping the beat

Straining her green eyes afar, to spot a distant sail

Townsfolk think his ship went down, in a sudden gale

She reaches for a locket that she wears around her neck

She fiddles with it all the time, her nerves they are a wreck

Inside two lovers face to face, in sepia and gray

Painted rouge upon their cheeks feigns winters chill away

~Stacey~

She had a twinkle in her eye
A diamond sparkling in an azure sea

Her laugh was infectious
Like a cool jazz piece in New Orleans

She could keep a secret
Like a child holding tightly to a dream

We could act ourselves together
Little girls holding buttercups under our chins

She left the world a gift
A blessed son, her little warrior

He holds her brilliance in his vision
And keeps her close to those that cherished her

Grandmother

The world erupted from dark to light
Everything I knew was turned inside out
Holding you now in the crook of my arm
Smiling down on your soft countenance
Sweeping lavendar scented curls

A tiny pink nightgown hangs on the line

She'll call me Grandmother

Birthday Presence

Waiting, Waiting, Waiting...

for dainty hands
for long eyelashes
for twirls in mirrors
for bows and sashes

for silver rattles
for shiny curls
for slumber parties
for giggling girls

Waiting for your birthday presence

Where I Am From

Brick lined streets will take you back to where I'm from.

Mennonite bonnets shading sparkling eyes,

that dance to the clip clop of horses.

The Paletine near the Rhine holds secrets of the elders.

Hushed religion forcing them to migrate.

The Emerald Isle is a warm gem in my pocket.

A treasure my soul wears for all to see.

Will always remain part of who I am,

although I've yet to touch her green shores.

She knows I shall return to her, be it this life or the next.

I come from a daughter of Cherokee beauty.

I know this as surely as I know my mothers dark eyes

and high cheekbones.

The animals speak of where I've come.

We share our tales of long ago campfires.

Throw out the dark night

Walking on eggshells which break without warning.
Throw out the dark night, I'm a child of the morning.
Sunlight that dapples, grass laden with dew.
Crows yell for breakfast in golden red hue.
Waves on the lake reflect violet sky.
A chill to the air because winter is nigh.
Yes give me the morning, throw out the dark night
Kingfisher, chickadee, heron in flight