Last Sunset - 2011

Sun sinks red into
silver Rio Grande.
Across the border
in Mexico dogs bark.
Children laugh, cry.
Cann't help but wonder
how many meals they
could eat for the price
of scopes, binoculars,
cameras, bird books
on the platform on
our side of the border.
Mexican smoke stings
my eyes, blurs vision
of Border Patrol turret.

Journey

Fat crescent
bigger boat
than last night
sails west
toward tomorrow.
What will it carry?
Who will arrive
on dawn's shore?
I pray safe journey
for you if not for me.

Rededication

Give yourself to love
if love is what you're after.

Easier said than done.
I give in, give myself
to relaxation, obligation,
worry, anger,compulsion,
enjoyment, despair, hope.

Each time, I try again
to give myself to love
because love is what I'm after.

Last Night

Tomorrow I will pack up
the mennorahs, each to
it's own resting spot,
velvet box, high shelf.
They brought the light.
My job now to be a light.

Seventh Night

Outpouring of light
energizes. Abundance
feeds laughter as family
shares golden tangerines,
juice sweet on our tongues.
For tonight, tonight is
just exactly enough.

Sixth Night

Kitchen at sunset
smells of curry
Mennorah light
Dances, flickers.
Faces fade in
and out of focus.
Only two more nights
to watch the light
increase. I need more.

Fifth Night

Christmas Eve
Carolers in coats
lift voices against
cold rain. Mennorah
light reminds me
I get to define
my own miracles.
This moment will do.

Fourth Night

Profusion of light
glows from house
illuminating grey
evening. The leaves
have all fallen.
Our beloved dead
glow in memory still.
We miss each one.

Third Night

Bright afternoon,
Sun in treetops,
Hand in hand
we walk familiar
wood. I would walk
another decade or
two of winter nights
with you. So much
we know. So much
to learn still.
Sunset flares pink
brignt afternoon
lights tomorrow.

Second Night

Second night
rain falls cold
family gathers warm
Shortest day
Longest night
I sit up late
listen as water
enters earth
I enter new year
sixty one means less
than sun returns
when winter comes.

Shaggy Fall

Shaggy fall fades
past flame, flutters
untidy across lawns,
flares against low sky.
Winter procrastinates.
Death wears gold, scarlet.
Life shows no hint of green,
pulses unseen from tap root.

No Solitary Candle

Even first night,
Mennorah holds
no solitary candle.
Always the shemash,
glowing helper stands
a little appart.
Radiant shemash abides.
No candle melts alone.

Predator

Cancer offers no retribution,
Steals what it steels,
on it's own terms,
conceals its proximity,
holds prey immobile.

from Three Word Wednesday, The words provided this week were: retribution, immobile, and proximity.

Refuge

Occupy only myself
still under covers
still in my skin
warm air out,
cool air in,
to feel safe,
to feel free,
to rest, I must
occupy only myself.

This one was written for the "occupy" prompt on Poetry Jam.

Gotta Use it All

based on "fabric of life" prompt



Can't pick and choose,
hate stitching dead babies,
cancer, family fights,
into my life quilt.
Wish I could cull out
the jagged jarring pieces,
hog the pretty symetrical
bits, perfect moments,
smiling children, straight A's.
Doesn't work like that,
Gotta ust it all.

Sliver

Sliver of glass
jagged in my palm
glows pink, golden,
beautiful reminder
of handblown bowl.
Shattered memory
brings hot tears.

Silver Dime

this poem is written to Peggy's Poetry Jam prompt to write about the past or/and the future.

Seems like yesterday
I sat at my mother's
kitchen table overlooking
Disneyland, Catalina Island
visible when smog blew out
We packed silver dimes into
plastic tubes to save
for my grandchildren.

This afternoon my grandson
spilled his treasure box.
I helped him clean up marbles,
wooden monkey, silver dime
from 1963, unpacked from
plastic tube at his mother's
kitchen table on Texas afternoon.
Seems like tomorrow came.

Outside Christmas

I understand aroma of vanilla
light crusted pies cooling
on trivet in warm house
on cold winter evening.

I understand subtle magic
of laden tree shining on dark
nights, scent of cedar bark,
bright star shining in window.

I understand amorous passion
to sing of peace on earth
and genuflect before incarnate
messiah, born as baby in manger.

No Jewish experience gives me
inkling of frantic December mission
to negotiate precipice of deadlines
and emerge to a perfect Christmas.

Sex at Sixty

I wouldn't have written this poem without a prompt (Thanks Mary) and I didn't intend to blog it. I am one who still blushes. But I like the poem and the feelings it draws on in me and I figure censoring myself is as wrong as censoring someone else, so here it is.


Sex at sixty is sex,
means what it means,
or doesn't mean much,
same as at twenty four.

Sex means I trust you
with all that I am,
all I fear, all I doubt
Sex means no secrets.

Sex means I will
cry in front of you,
giggle like a wild child,
fart, burp, wail, roar.

Sex means I cherish
the velvet of your skin,
the scent of your breath,
the beating of your heart.

Sex means I let you in
all the way, body, mind,
spirit, heart. All I am
I open to you in love.

Sex means what it means
or doesn't mean much.
Same as at twenty four,
Sex at sixty is sex.

Green Resurgent

Blackened pines
stand silent, fall dead,
stink still of smoke
from September wildfires.
Bright winter grass,
green as birth,
frames death
with life.

Note To Self

Breathe.
Feet on the floor.
Hands open. Shoulders down.
Listen, understand, then speak.
Pitch voice from deep belly.
Speak only truth.
Breathe.

Winter Break

Laughing mob of children
tumbles into soft afternoon
Jettisons back packs,
lunch boxes, planners,
rules about how you
must behave at school.
Sun breaks through to smile
at laughing mob of children.

This was written for Three Word Wednesday.. The words were mob, behave, jettison

Crossroads

If I ever retire
who will I be?
If I never retire
what will I miss?

Deep

Deep well
quenches
deep sorrow.

Last Leaf

Last gullible green leaf
clings smug to fragile fulcrum,
rustles, shudders in pale sunshine,
fights ruddy rush to fall, spinning,
to rest mellow on untidy forest floor.
Subliminal message: Time is short


This is a response to a wordle from http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2011/11/27/wordle-32/ using the words "rush, mellow, gullible, rustle, smug, shudder, fulcrum, sunshine, ruddy, untidy, subliminal, spinning"

Gut

Can't write poems
from gut.
Gut has no words.
Just]
laughs,
churns,
wails.

Stuck

I think I have a poem
stuck in my throat,
don't know it's name
but it wails in my throat
won't let other words out
until I dare to claim it.

Thankful Now

Too late at night,
between demands,
migraine lurking,
laundry unfinished,
I sit in quiet home,
Deep chair embraces,
Wall colors glow.
Sleepers breath safely.
No turkey or pies needed.
I am thankful right now.

Leaf Fall

Autumn wood glows red gold.
Shower of flaming leaves
sings through crisp air,
carpets last green grass
with kaleidooscope of color.
I reach, stretch, dance, leap
in vain to catch a single leaf.
Later I faind the scarlet oval
caught in the flow of my hair.
Grace falls on her own terms.

Spark

Drowned fires smolder.
Water chills to ice.
Diamond studded sky
encircles dead planet.
Mindless spark awaits
next chance to ignite life.

This one is from a wordle prompt based on the words diamond, mindless, spark, fires, ice, smolder, oblivious, sky, silence, planet, trapped, drowned

To Tell?

Is it true?
Is there need?
Will information
connect or disconnect?
Am I defensive,
trying to look good,
not be wrong?
Do my words come
from love or ego?

Words like Arrows

Aim is
to pierce
to center
of all I
see, hear,
feel,think,
doubt,believe,
fear, hope.
Shoot straight.
Aim deep.
Pierce truth.

Can't Fall Back

Can't fall back.
Time moves forward,
one way street,
no redos, yesterday
inaccesible forever
Wish I could fall back.

Plea (a wordle response)

dappled, piercing, shell, air, strident, reignite, delirium, emit, pleat, pitch, swish, seem

Pitch me strident.
Reignite delirium.
Better piercing swish
of dappled air
than one more day
as empty shell
pressed into pleat
able to emit
no sound at all.

Day One for Poetic Asides - do it now poem

Seasonal Shift

Leaves rattle dry.
First freeze holds off.
Harvest sits on shelves.
Garden vines hang empty.
Last summer green remains.
Death rides shotgun.
Tomorrow flickers uncertain.
Today I write today's words.

First Kiss

So awkward to be sweet.
So sweet to be awkward.

All Hallows

Blow out the jack-o-lanterns.
Put tired children to bed
in costume bits, capes for blankets.
Clean kitchen and eat chocolate.
Keep the light on and try to deny
the hollows, the hallows. Outside
the waxing moon knows the veil is thin.
Death rides close tonight.

Glimpse

Carved crooked grin.
caught flickering light
bloody image of wine bottle
smashed on sidewalk
thump of head, death gurgle
as someone's son died in gutter.
Image vanished fast as it came.
just a jack-o-lantern

Writer's Block

so easy to construct
tile by tile
too busy
too tired
too worried
not in the mood
muse absent
not good enough
depressed
don't feel good
family needs me
people might see me
people might not

Never Big Enough

Big you say
I'm big.
I'm fast.
so fast.
I'm strong.


Help me you say.
Hold me.
I'm afraid.
Keep me safe.
I'm little

Same for me sixty
as for you at two.
I'm big, strong,
competent, brave.
Please God keep me safe.

Cardiology Waiting Room

I see gray walls,
gray chairs, gray heads.
Paintings monotone.
Faces tired, bored.
I imagine red blood pulsing.
hearts beating out the history
of lives remembered, lived,
hopes and dreams still strong.
I want to paint gray walls with
sunshine, open ceiling to stars,
laugh, cry, record evey story,
live hard and happy until we die.

You Sleeping

I see you sleeping
in pile of bright pillows,
shining hair fanned out
in pale early light,
breaths even, quiet,
all promise, potential.
Dreams seem so real
in the morning.

Unsettled

Waves and currents
toss and tangle
lines of connection
with beloved, divine.
Hell. I can't even
find my purse or shoes.
World swirls unmanageable.
I force slow breaths,
hands open, feet on floor.
I remind myself nothing
is really wrong. No one died.
The pantry is full. No one
is shooting at me or mine today.
Still I fight to move, to stand
against waves and currents
I don not see or understand.

Coming Home

Our troops are coming home from Iraq
some of them. Some will not come home.
Our troops are coming home from Iraq
hurt, strengthened, weakened, changed.
Our troops are coming home from Iraq
war scenes embazoned behind eyelids.
Our troops are coming home from Iraq
women,men who sacrificed to protect us.
Our troops are coming home from Iraq
No more shock and awe, airport hugs.
Our troops are coming home from Iraq
to bqby kisses,new dangers, strangers.
Our troops are coming home from Iraq
politics aside, too late, too soon, irrelevant.
Our troops are coming home from Iraq
We welcome them, thank them, let them in.
Our troops are coming home from Iraq
Some of them. Some will not come home.

Do Not Tolerate Me

Better than genocide, Jim Crow,
Better than border walls, insufficient.
Tolerance still looks down its nose.
Do not tolerate my Jewish holidays, funky
clothes, liberal politics, fear of flying.
If I offend you, upset you, shock you,
pleace tell me, ask me, work to know me.
I promise you same interest, same respect, interest.
I will not rule you out because you have
a pierced nose, wear a crucifix, vote Republican.
Tolerance is insufficient. I want to stand nose
to nose on common ground and see each other clearly.

Lost (for Vice/Versa)

In silence
guilt echoes.
No sound, be it
roaring sea,
cheering crowd,
laughing music,
can restore peace
of innocence lost.

Root

Prayer is my tap root,
drawn ever deeper
into the heart of
Divine Mystery.

Where is God?

In every choice,
one way. or any other.
Trick is discernment.

Poems on Female Parts

This week the prompts in my writing group were all related to "female" body parts, and though I didn't have much trouble writing the poems it was a challenge to decide whether to post them here - so personal. But isn't all poetry personal? Why fear more to share about my body than my spirit, mind, or emotions. So here goes.

Blood Rite

Menstruation links women
through inconvenience,
discomfort, shared mystery,
possibility of pregnancy,
hope for continuation of species.
Across the generations,
menstruation links women.

Nest

I still see my uterus as a nest,
fallow now, no longer feathered
with fresh red blood, not ready
to shelter new life, nest still.

For Granted

Before you were infertile,
I took my ovaries for granted
They made eggs like clockwork,
released one each month,
let babies begin inside me.
A generation later, I am
thankful for working ovaries.

Ectopic

Embryo implanted
in right fallopian tube,
ectopic, life-threatening.
I held you while you sobbed,
pregnant with death.



Breasts


I love my breasts,
remember them young,
standing like silver pears
shining in spring moonlight,
shy, admired, adored
awaiting first love's lips.


I love my breast.s,
remember them full,
life sustaining fountains
suckled by hungry mouths,
heavy, warm, needed,
fed my babies.

I love my breasts,
warm pillow for late talk,
familiar as autumn colors,
soft in your hand, tender,
satisfied, well used,
give comfort still.

Gate


My vagina is a gate,
Life force in
Life force out

Clitoris

Power word for seat
of female orgasm.
Out of the shadowy
mist, down there.
Women like sex too.

Will I?

Only a step away,
and yet I'll never
know you unless
I take that step.

Look Again

Bright blue sky
No birds in sight
Expert lifts scope
250 broadwing hawks.

Pleas

Grass cries with
parched blades
for cool carress
of gentle rain.

I cry with
aching soul
for sweet relief
of tender grace.

World cries with
bleeding land
for fading hope
of lasting peace.

Poor Ostrich

Icon for denial,
poor ostrich
can't compete
with average human
who faces the end
of life as it is.

Haunted

Echoes keep me honest,
reverberate, replay memory.
Echoes insist on empathy,
superimpose past, possible
futures on each moment.
Echoes keep my honest.

Seasons of Self

Tilt of earth's axis
creates predictable seasons.
My own tilt spins moods,
less predictable seasons of soul.
Makes no sense to accept earth
seasons and shun my own.

Refusal

Song says You don't know
what you've got til it's gone.
I refuse to live that way.
I know what I've got.

Crash

Historic air show.
Brave old planes
wakened memories
of heroic times.
Stories, laughter,
shattered by screams
when plane hit stands,
Terror, severed legs,
hot dogs half eaten.
Lives ended on holiday

Red Moon Rising

Red moon rising
over stadium packed
with marching bands
resonates deeper
than sea of tubas.

Resilience

Twenty years after divorce
shattered her will to live,
Twelve years after she dared
brave new marriage, new career,
Three years after her oldest son
burned to death working on his car,
One year after she designed new
house to replace earthquake wreckage,
she mused "I think I have three more
fresh starts in me." She was seventy.

Underground

Underground roots reach
for water, stretch toward
center of spinning earth,
seek depth, support upward
reach of strong straight trunk,
canopy of leafed out branches.

Begin Again

Time to begin again,
to write each day,
to focus on kindness,
to focus, to center,
to write each day.
Time to begin again.

Lost

Virtuoso violinist played
Bach unannounced at subway stop.
Child felt pull, ran toward music.
Mother pulled him back, train to catch.
How much magic did I miss today?

Flashback

You bounce in your chair,
squeal He's on! He's on!.
What can I say to him?
He wrote to me! He asked
about my day! You are fifteen.
Internet flirtation brings joy.
You bounce in your chair.

September Eleventh

Ten years after
towers collapsed
fear and hate
still stand tall.

Passage

Some by fire and some by shadow,
Some by silence, some by fury,
Some in peace, some still screaming.
All die on death's terms.

Hardest Discipline

Hardest discipline is
to ratchet down anxiety
when world whirls by
demands high stakes,
decisions, leaves
loose ends frayed.
To rachet down anxiety
is hardest discipline.

Wind Change

Wind from the north
scatters haze,
shakes dusty leaves,
disperses heat,
stirs fires,
triggers evacuation.
Wind from the north
threatens, relieves.

Shy Ghost Confesses

Happiest I've ever been,
unseen, between, at edge
no pressure, no one needs me.
I see, hear, understand,
no burden of being seen,
heard, understood, free.
Haunting is my heaven.

Off

Sky heat bleached
too pale for summer.
Not quite right.

Air too still too hot
exhaust tainted
Not quite right.

Grass parched, trees
faded barely green
not quite right.

Shoppers intent
blank faced, rushed
not quite right.

Mind exhausted,
holds against fear.
not quite right.

To Be Continued

Each time I think
the circle's spun,
layer spirals off.
I've just begun.

Acceptance

I know I can't catch stars
in a magic jar, release
each for wish come true.
I have to settle for stars
in the night sky, opportunities
I don't control or wish for.

Mourning

Mourning is made of yesterdays,
endures today,
denies tomorrow.

Wishing for a Boomerang

I wish it were that simple,
what you give out
comes back to you.
It is sometimes true,
a tendancy, not a rule.
If being good and kind
could assure only
goodness and kindness
would fall on those I love,
you bet I'd be up for sainthood.
If fairness assured fairness,
I know I'd never cheat.
It doesn't work like that.
Innocents starve every day.
Villians take power, thrive.
Life isn't like a boomerang.
I wish it were that simple.

Risk

Yesterday I read about a young officer
who found his pregnant wife dead in the tub.
Probably aneurysim. Cause didn't matter
when he tucked his motherless children
into bed last night or when he found her
shoes under the table or had to look
in her purse to find a number to cancel
her appointments, explain her absence.
Marriage risks that kind of loss,
whole fiber of family unwoven in
the moment a heart does not beat.
Yet he risked it. I risked it twice.
Love is stronger than loss.

Nonfielders Prayer

Please don't make me shortstop.
Too many balls, too hard, too fast,
too many choices, stakes too high.
I'd rather bring you lemonade but
If I must play, but me in right field
where at least I can see trouble coming.

Magician

Out of lake mist
magician all in white
reaches for round moon,
sings owl song, sways,
chants to night wind.
Transforms light to wood.

Inheritance

If I should die
before you are ready,
remember I loved my life.
I rode wild waves,
got knocked around,
came up with treasures.
hiked steep hills,
foot in front of foot,
came down in peace.
I didn't get it all right.
I know I hurt you.
You know I'm sorry.
I've told you.
Keep what gives you strength.
Remember what heals you.
If I should die
before you are ready.
Remember I loved my life.

Final Draft

Each word, breath, move, choice
reflection,deflection construct
my submission to the Book of Life.

Night Circus

Tight rope quivers,
hard to balance in the dark.
hard to juggle hope and fear.
Night terrors lurk
No net until dawn.

Who?

Ice house swirls with faces,
waitress, couples, pin ball kid.
Voices laugh, murmur, rail.
Thought rises from mind shadows.
Who will be next to die?
How? When? Don't ask why.

If We Hide our Faces

If we hide our faces,
We will miss our reflections,
If we hide our reflections,
we will miss our expressions,
If hide our expressions,
we will miss our intentions.
If we miss our intentios,
we will miss our essence.
If we lose our essence,
we will disappear.

Stone 29 - Friends with Cameras

Friends with cameras
look for angles to
catch smiles, hugs,
connections, cherish
each friend present.
Most dominant, unspoken,
her empty chair.

Stone 28-Starlight

Windy summer night
stars swirl through wood,
enfold me, hold me,
rock away cares
of city day.

Stone 27- Easter Egg

My daughter says I look like
an Easter egg in the lime and
white silk punjab I couldn't
resist buying at Savers.
Not my own ethnic heritage,
Not my tradition. I love it.
Happy Jewish Easter egg here.

Stone 26 - Por Lump

Plain white plate
painted with cartoon
in black of long dog,
inscribed Por Lump,
impulsive gift from frind
to friend over lunch,
in museum under glass
because painter was Picasso.

Evidence of good things 2- People remember kindness

Haven't seen her for two years,
her husband either. Helped them
during tough decisions, transitions.
She came up office stairs this morning
arms full of white lilies, purple stock.
fragrant appreciation. She just wanted
me to know they haven't forgotten I helped.

Temptation to Panic

Dear friend called from hospital.
Rapidly worsening abcess in hand.
Surgery, IV antibiotics, scared.
I respond tenderly, matter of fact.
Of coourse I'll put a sign on his
office door, reassure his clients.
Does he need a visit, a book?
Inner voices screams He can't die.
His wife, his kids, his mother
need him. His clients need him.
I can't handle losing him yet.
He can't die.
Of course he can.

Evidence of Good Things - a new experiment

I saw the excellent play "The Book of Grace" Saturday night and was struck by the main character's effort to keep a book of "evidence of good things " in the world. I've done gratitude lists befor, but this seems a little different, not so much what I'm thankful for but what gives me the strength and encouragement to keep hoping. I don't know how this is going to go, but I'm starting very late, or very early depending on how you see it, with a short list poem from my very good day with family.

Evidence Families Can Work

Liam, two, came into my room tonight to offer a sip
of his prized root beer "Grandma, I want to share with you.
Danny, at twelve, played an hour and a half with his two
year old sister with her doll house so adults could talk.
My grown daughters and I can talk about mistakes I made,
pushing school work to hard, not buyin an erector set,
and each understands the other and no one gets defensive.
Even though their money is tight, Jo and Tracy paid for our lunch.
Chris cooks us dinner most nights, mindful of diets and tastes.
Zachary, eight, cuddled ten minutes on my lap and told me dreams.
KK, fifteen, didn't roll her eyes or say "whatever" all day long.
Joanna and James managed the custody transfer with mutual respect.
Bob loves me. Bob loves me. Bob loves me. Bob loves me.

Stone 25 - Overheard

Lilt of laughter
Daddy, Mama, son,
as love assembles
monorail under
kitchen table.

Stone 24 - Marlon Brando's Address Book

Little brown leather book
under museum glass now,
lost decades ago despite
penned plea, Anyone who
finds this, I'll die if
you don't return it.
I've already lost seven.

Wordle from Whirl -BLink

Twist of head, blink,
scan of room through
parted purple curtains,
stripped off gild, marvel
rendered reprehensible,
two entwined in clouds
of scattered clothing,
whir of stolen passion.

Stone 23- Theatre

Empty stage,
Fills with story,
empties me out.

In Love

In love is climb,
not fall.
Not abandon,
commitment.
Not slip
but triumph
of will,
of choice.

Stone 22- Saffron Rice

Yellow, with onion and butter,
Yellow with saffron and sun,
Awakens spirit, nose, tongue.

Stone 21 -Gift

Two hanks for two hands,
rose pink hand dyed in Chile,
alpaca, merino, silk, donegal
requires US size ten needles.
Soft against cheek.
Warm for winter.
Product still a mystery.

Geode

When I was six
I believed each rock
would be a magic geode
alive with crystal light.

At sixty I know
most rocks are
simply rocks.
I still hope for geodes.

Six Intentions

Promise only what I can do then follow through.
Listen, consider, avoid snap judgements.
Accept help even when I don't need it.
Ask for help when I do need it.
Eat only when hungry and when hungry, eat.
Stay open, mind, heart, spirit

Stone 20- Gingersnap (also response to food I love prompt from last week)

Perfect circle
sits on tongue,
crunches between teeth
warms mouth,
invigorates.

Sixth Decade

Time to remember, record.
Time to pare, hone, refine.
Time to apologize, forgive.
Time to cherish, give thanks.
Time to accept, expect change.
Time to mourn, comfort friends.
Time to live, still time to live.

Stone 19 - Invisible

Wing beat, snort,
rustle, chatter, trill.
Wood resounds with life
invisible from trail.

Timeless

Daddy said
Six of one
half a dozen
of the other.
Hold your horses.
We'll cross that
bridge when we
get to it.

Daughter says
Don't sweat the
small stuff and
its all small stuff.
Stay in the moment.
Be mindful. Do it now.
Worry is useless
One day at a time.


Different words.
Different centuries.
SAme wisdom.

True Green - Stone 18

Single fan of
sabal palm
reflects jade,
emerald, forest,
shades between
words, essence
energy of green.

Impact

Tiny butterfly
leaves large
shadow.

Stone 16 - Native Speaker

Resaca mocking bird,
laughes like a native
from mesquite perch
as I struggle to decode
Kisk, Kis Ka Dee Dee DEE?

Ticket Out of Here

Train Case, black rectangle
packed with bathing suit, towel,
address book, hiking shoes,
soft shirts, skirts, sunscreen.
No office keys. Escape in sight.

Overkill

July moon full,
oversize
overripe
overbright
sneaks in before dark.

Stone 13 - Destruction Equipment

Roar of bulldozer, excavator
shakes building, rattles thoughts
destroys peace in name of change.

Fifteen-Stone 12

Green eyed, barely fifteen
you order birthday dinner
with shy smile, blush at
attention of handsome waiter.

Stone 11 - Hug

You hold me like live oak
holds morning glory vine,
solid, still, strong, anchor.

Close it

Closet, Close it.
Don't let it out.
No mess, no truth.
Keep your secrets.
No truth, no mess.
Don't let me in.
Don't expect me to
stop seeking the key.

Reciprocity

Strong baby fingers,
entangled in my hair,
held fast, while lips
suckled nipple and my
own fingers stroked
your fresh silk cheek.

Stone 10 - Sunbeam

Forest floor shifts underfoot,
oat meal colored oak leaf mosaic.
Suddenly rectangle, like open door,
flashes white gold, sunbeam.

Flood (from Sunday July 10 Wordle)

Galloping poem flooded logic,
onslaught sufficient to resist
world buzz of twisted thought.
Whim fluttered up from instinct,
spring released pure river of love.

Untangling

Untangling dove blue homespun
yarn, inch by snarled inch,
nubby softness over fingers
allows me complete control.

Good Night House

Every night different.
Every night the same.
Invitation into blanket cave
to read book or three.
Shy retreat, hooded eyes
as you pull shawl over
head to nurse your Mama.
Warm squishy hug, coy smile.
Always brush teeth,
Always, Good night Liam
Always, Good night house.

Hungry

Hungry
Empty, aching
Hungry
Fill me, fill me.
Hungry,
absent answers.
Hungry,
Fill me, fill me.
Hungry,
Hollow, yearning.
Hungry,
Fill me, fill me.
Hungry,
Bereft, longing.
Hungry,
Fill me. fill me.
Empting, aching,
Hungry.

BLue Time of Night - Stone 8

Indigo swirl dominates sky,
erases apricot light.
Seven minutes later, black.

Headstone

Live oak etched in granite
beneath outstretched arms
of live oak we planted
in fresh grief 25 years ago.

Stone Six - Virtual Wake

Day of your death
friends in kitchens,
offices, on couches
type memories, keep
connection, we love
you, we miss you,
remember when...

No Candle (from burning candle at both ends prompt)

I am no candle with
finite flame or I
would have burned out
when I was raped,
when I held first
love as he died,
when I grieved
and raised daughters.

I am no star with
fire of my own
or I would have
sputtered out when
my mother lost her mind,
when my daughters
disappointed each other.

I am a moon, reflecting.
I am a tree, connected
to sun, earth, divine.
I am a channel,a path.
I have no fire. I do
not burn. I am finite.
The light is infinite.

Ice Cream Sandwich - Stone 5

Creamy vanilla,too cold
for comfort, chocolate
cookie soft, sweet, rich.
Tastes like childhood.

First Curtains

First curtains I sewed resembled
meadow of spring wild flowers,
fortunate find on bargain
basement sheets - queen size
for windows bigger than bed,
happy curtains for first nest
we feathered for ourselves.

Every Which Way

Always looking up gives a great view of sky,
but I would miss looking you eye to eye,
miss the view of beach stones, roots, seeds.
miss the scope of vast horizon, earth to sky.
I want to see life from every possible angle.

Stone 4 - Heat

Heat beams down from sun,
Steams up from asphalt.
Sweat streams down face, arms.
Cool hint of breeze stirs
parched grass, rattles seeds.
Fall will come. And spring.

Stone 3 - Knit Stitch

Simple knit stitch pulls yarn
over, under, around, through
cycle, circle as violet scarf
flows into being inch by inch.

Escape (inspired by wordle)

Reaching hands tossed
moss flossed flecks,
hurtled toward fresh face.
Dreamer turned,
flew clear of
fading siren song.

Bushy Eyebrows

Bushy eyebrows, busy eyebrows
expressive above wide gray eyes,
assymetrical,dramatic, endearing
busy eyebrows, bushy eyebrows.

July 2 Stone - Memorial

Navigator's jump suit from Korean War
oak leaf clusters neat on shoulders,
good as new, hangs empty in church hall.

For Mary

Comfort is not always possible.
Peace is not always possible.
Foot in front of foot infront of foor.
breath after breath after breath
is sufficient to abide in the dark.

July 1 Stone- Sleepy Boy

Cheek soft in my cupped hand,
Hair like feathers, blue eyes
half closed, you teach trust.

Not Obsolete

I file old skills like pressed flowers.
Cut cloth on diagonal to tear clean.
Corn starch soothes heat rash.
Wet hat before working in hot sun.
Carry stationary to write at bus stop.
Write thank you notes within a week.
Tucks in girls skirts allow for growth.
Save buttons. Scraps make great dolls.
Dress under quilts on coldest mornings.
Start space heater before you wake children.
Sing in the kitchen. Sing on the prch.
Slow down in the heat. Cuddle in the cold.
Tell your own stories. Ask me for mine.
I file old skills like pressed butteflies.

Whooping Crane

Whooping crane dances
on extinction's edge,
struggles to keep big
struggling snake in beak,
a meal, succeeds, swallows,
soars over salt marsh on
strong white wings,fragils
as all of us living things.

Salt

Salt enhances
taste of food.
Salt of tears
enhances joy.

Help Received

Advantage of living together
is when I stumble to bed
exhausted after long day,
late bath, someone who
loves me will pick up
wet towel I left on floor.
Privledge to return the favor.

Timeless

Clock counts minutes.
Moments drop outside time.
not measured, treasured.

Laced

Lace is mostly holes,
artfully arranged,
like family history.
Blank spaces are
connected by stories
they told, we tell.
History keeps us apart,
holds us together.
History is lace.
Lace is mostly holes

Single Silver Bead

Each silver splatter
wild wave tosses skyward
hangs like a silver bead,
no more or less precious
than first drop or last.

Illusion

The doctor said they were almost home
right before the baby's heart stopped.

Retired husband told wife almost home
a week before her Alsheimer's diagnosis.

Young mother relaxed, almost home
as she felt the car's brakes fail.

Peacemaker dared trust almost home
seconds before assassin's bullet struck.

Never trust almost.

Prey

The headlights scanned the yard.
The girl cowered behind bushes.
She had to get away. Eighty seven
dollars in coat pocket, her tooth
brush and tooth paste, a friendship
bracelet from fourth grade, two
phone numbers. She had to get away.
Before he killed her. Or she killed him.
The headlights scanned the yard.

Strong Scented

Salt Marsh reminds me
Being born and dying
smell much the same.

Grief

White mist enveloped the earth.
Guide lights flickered out.
White mist enveloped the earth.
Landmarks faded from sight.
White mist enveloped the earth.
No mirror reflected my face.
White mist enveloped the earth.
You died and left me.

Arrogant Trees

Arrogant trees
have not met
lightening.

Longest Day - 2011

Pale pink clouds streak dimming sky
I stand four stories above city river
alone on balcony in cypress branches.
Grackles struggle raucous to settle
for shortest night. Diners, drinkers
at restaurants below laugh, shout life.
Cool wind stirs hot air, lifts my hair.
Cycle shifts away from increase.
Reminds me, no matter how long
the day, how short the night,
death always sits at the table.

Passage

In the the fringe of the forest
highway sounds intrude,
mundane thoughts babble.
The air cools and birdsong
beckons. Trail softens
with pine straw, oak leaf.
Downy blue feather drifts
down to rest on my boot.
Silence surrounds, fills.
I have entered peace.

Slipping Through

Happy summer,
laughing grandchildren
never knew you.
In the middle
of a ticklefest,
sorrow slips through.

What I Know for Sure

Real is better than perfect.
To thy own self be true.
Love, not ego.
When all else fails, be kind.
Now may be the only moment I have.
Now is enough.
Nothing is certain.
Everything is multidetermined.
Everything changes.

Integrity

I must remember
Never meanness,
Truth always
Ego never.
Give to give.
Treat all fairly.
You must remember.

Courage

Courage stands at the edge
of the void and jumps in.

Curiosity in the Garden

Why is the hoe sharp?
Why does it dig dirt?
Why is the dirt hard?
How does the worm
dig through hard dirt?
How do you know this
worm is not a friend?
How does a little worm
eat a big tomato?
What happens to the
worm when it rains?
Can worms dig in mud?
Why is the sun hot?
I want to go inside,
drink water now.

An Odd Child

An odd child
the school nurse
described me in
the notebook left
open on her desk.
I knew it was true,
took it more with
pride than hurt.
Prone to poetry
and ribbons,
careful words
careless numbers,
better in a crisis
than at a party,
serious, sensitive,
a good listener,
fascinated by people
but happy alone.
I was an odd child,
grew into an odd woman.
Still like it just fine.

A Boy's Promise

When I am grown
and have kids who love me,
I won't hurt their mother
so she has to send me away.
She won't hurt me.
We will all stay together
and love each other
when I am grown.

Honor Thoughts that Come in the Night

Honor thoughts that come in the night.
Logic loses power when dusk dims day.
Honor thoughts that come in the night.
Moon dissolves limits clear by sun.
Honor thoughts that come in the night.
Hopes, like fears take wing in shadow.
Honor thoughts that come in the night.
Magic arises with fog from the grass.
Honor thoughts that come in the night.
Moonlit pond mirrors soul's secrets.
Honor thoughts that come in the night.
The owl sees as well as the eagle.
Honor thoughts that come in the night.
Night truths balance truths of day.

Turtle in the Tub

I hear you crashing against the porcelain
walls of your temporary prison.
You have out grown your tank,
dinnerplate now, not the silver dollar
Danny purchased proudly with allowance.
You have not outgrown his love.
Boy struggles to choose to keep or
to release, to see you as his or
your own. A parent's dilemma,
hard to master at any age.

Double Take

You stretch a long leg
effortlessly above your head
and your flame hair shimmers.
Rhinestone Tinkerbell
necklace glitters
at your pale throat.
Shyness and determination
vie for control of your eyes.
You could be your mother.
You could be my ghost.
You are however
marvelously
yourself.

When the World Began

Was it an atom
a spark
a thought
a hope
was it self aware?

Did it know how it would end.
when the world began?

Felled

We spent a windy hour
in the company of trees
watched river flow below,
rested in birdsong and
the dance of green leaves.
We did not expect death
to block our path, bright
treetop, still green, wind
severed, broken on the trail,
slender trunk cut clean,
standing still against
seductive,destructive gusts.
It could have been you.
It could have been me.
Some day it will be.

On my Own String

I am a bead
on my own string.
My pattern song
flows strong.
No clumsy fingers
push me along.

Beyond

Beyond answers
lie more questions.
Beyond the absolute,
more mysteries swirl.
Beyond endings
new beginnings call.

In Times of Deep Sorrow

In times of deep sorrow
every night, a winter
hope costs too much
every step, a marathon
joy flits away
every kindness, a lifeline
in times of deep sorrow.

Precursor

Breeze last night felt fresh,
enlivened sleepy house.
Delighted by breeze,
I missed it's prediction
of thunder storm,
now flooding the street.

Sea

Sea rolls out,
day after day,
night after night.
Birth death emotional
context irrelevant
pattern continues,
nothing ends or begins.
Sea rolls in.

Summers in the Green Room

I only had three show tune summers,
dripped sweat over hand stitching
in green room, cued lines for leading
man and dreamed he'd kiss me, wouldn't
have known what to do if he had, did
the choreography in my sleep but never
could carry a tune. The tunes carried me.
I wish I'd had more summers in the green room.

Clear as Now (from a so far but here prompt Mary offered)

So long ago, yet clear as now
the moments you were new.
Your own babies are two already
and I blink, still seeing you
tiny, the first time I carried you
into the door of this house.
Wonder of that beginning
has borne fruit beyond imagination.
Decision to start a generation,
so long ago, yet clear as now.

Three Questions

What do I need to know?
What do I need to do?
Will it be enough?

No.
Strike that.

What do I need to know?
What do I need to do?
How do I accept it is enough?

Days of Me

Days of me reaching for you,
you reaching for me.
I wish for connection,
completion, days of us.

Seed Me

I lie open,
plowed vulnerable
ready for roots.
Seed me now.
I yearn to nurture
new growth.

Osama Bin Ladin is Dead

Osama Bin Ladin is dead.
Our forces took him out,
The bogey man, eliminated,
The monster exterminated.
We finally killed the demon.
Osama Bin Ladin is dead.
Am I safer today?

Osama Bon Ladin is dead.
We have his body, his DNA,
the bloody history of his perfidy.
but before he was the bogey man,
he was someone's baby,attempted hero
Osama Bin Ladin is dead.
Has hate taken a blow?

Osama Bin Ladin is dead.
How much difference one life?
What if Hitler's been assasinated
before Kristallnicht, if Dr. King
had lived to give the invocation
at President Obama's innaugeration?
Is peace safer today?

Osama Bin Ladin is dead.
What child in what land today
does hate set on monster's path?
What is it mine to do?
What is it mine to say?
What do I need to know to help
respectful understanding grow?

May I

May I walk a few more years
in sweet company of family
and friends. Everything ends.

April Drought

No April showers this year.
Ground forgets the meaning of rain.
No April showers, hope for
May flowers withers in sun.
But wait. I hear thunder.

Words

I grew up believing
words were magic.
I could paint any scene,
convey any idea,
share any feeling
ase any pain
if I could just
find the right words.
Now I know that isn't so.
Language ia impresise,
arbitrary, and abstract.
No matter how hard I try,
you may not understand me.
I can hurt you with my words
when my intentions are kind.
Now I know words are not magic.
Worda are metely tools, powerful
tools. I can practice using
them with increasing skill,
but if there is in any magic,
it is not in the words but
in the benefit of doubt you
give me when you listen.

Poet's Choice

Without inspiration,
ordinary poetry.
Without discipline,
no poetry.

In hope of hope

Stagnant afternoon
air, thoughts hang heavy
inspiration slows
doom looms invisible.
Best I can do is open
window. Perhaps hope
will blow in by dark.

Follow

Follow the leader
scares me.
Follow my heart
confuses me.
Follow my mind
chills me.
Stay in the moment
calms me.

Free Fall

Days fall by like wild red leaves,
faster than morning, faster than dying.
Days fall by like spring rain,
softer than secrets, softer than tears.
Days fall by like fading light
after days fall by, what secrets night?

Prayer at the end of Passover

I go through the motions
to lighten my load, my mood.
I say the prayers,
light the candles,
and still my feet hit heavy,
each right step an effort.
I wish for a dancing spirit,
easy happiness, free song.
I remember that the will
to continue the effort
is sufficient, dayenu, enough.

Ten messages for ten bottles

If not now, when?
Show up.
Pay attention.
If you don't know, ask.
If you mess up, fix it.
Real is better than perfect.
Life is hard and life is good.
Abide.
Love not ego.
If all else fails, be kind.

Passover Paradox

with freedom, responsibility.
with responsibility, opportunity.
with opportunity, choice.
with choice, conscience.
with responsibility, freedom.

Beyond Second Thoughts

First thought: I want, I need, I feel....
Second thought: Nobody gets by with treating me like that....
Third thought: I should, she should, I shouldn't, he shouldn't....
Fourth thought: Time to breathe and consider again.

Crying in the Night

No matter how much wisdom, knowledge, security,
No matter how many friends, children, students,
No matter how much love, encouragement, connection,
Crying in the night still feels like crying in the night.

Tens challenge (ten lines, ten syllables each line)

Attend

Pay attention. Attend to my message.
I am your heart, banging out your true song.
I am your mind, churning out your questions.
Pay attention. Attend to my message.
I am your soul, bearing truth from far stars.
I am your body, rooted deep in earth.
Pay attention. Attend to my message.
I am your death, dancing closer each day.
I am your life, offering this moment.
Pay attention. Attend to my message.

Rose gold

The moon rose gold over the Gulf.
Gold exchanged bridges gulfs.
Golden eyes of wolf haunt me.
Golden slippers dance in dreams
of my mother, golden haired princess.
Old friends are counted golden.
Silver threads among the gold will come.
I will always remember, the moon rose gold.

Portrait of Mary with her Dogs

She counts her beloved's pills
into the pill box precisely,
sighs, sets pill box on counter,
lifts her eyes and sees the dogs,
tiny, black and white, awake on couch.
She crosses the room in a bound,
light on feet, eyes suddenly laughing,
She drops to her knees and croons
to the dogs, voice rises and falls,
sounds all of sixteen, hands lightly
carress, weariness retreats as
the love of two little dogs refreshes.

Bad Boy Blues(based on seeing the musical Carousel with 14 year old KK)

What's the deal with
good girls falling
for bad boys,
taking the blows,
hiding our tears,
waiting all night,
waiting for years,
for the 3 AM
phone call that
he crashed the bike,
got busted,
fathered someone
else's baby?

What's the deal
with boosting
his ego, covering
for his mistakes,
bailing him out,
nursing, supporting?
Do we need him weak
so we can feel strong?
Can we only be right
if he does wrong?
What's the deal with
good girls falling
for bad boys?

First Grandchild

You were born
before I was ready,
I'd just given up
fantasy of being
mother again.
Grandmother came early.

You have my hair,
my shyness, a song
in your body I recognise.
You almost died,
three days and three years old.
I almost died your first winter,
had gall bladder surgery the
day your appendix came out.
Your life force and mine
seem to entertwine.
You remind me, life is temporary,
fragile, precious.

You will leave home
before I am ready.
We take dance class together,
laugh late in your little house,
knit scarves, unravel boy trouble.
Grandmother came just in time.

Backspin

I do my laundry when
the house sleeps.
Laundry takes me back.
I stand barefoot in garage
sort dark from light,
remember standing
in the same spot
thirty five years ago,
so proud of new
washing machine
in new house
to wash clothes
for new baby for
new life which continues
to unfold day by day.

Mirror

Over heads of children
you look straight
into my eyes,
beam complete history
of twenty years
together
confirm pain and joy
mirror back
my life.

Maybe

Maybe there is no God.
Maybe it's too late
to save the earth,
too late to save each other.
Maybe hope is a joke
and love an illusion.
I won't vote for maybe.

40 line sentence challenge -Don't Want

I don't want
to want
people I love
to act
how I want
them to act,
to choose
what I want
them to choose,
to think
What I think
they should think
to feel
what I feel
they should feel,
to live
where I think
they should live,
to eat what
I choose them
to eat
to weigh
what I think
they shold weigh,
to like
what I'd like
them to like,
to fight
when I need
them to fight,
to love
as I wish
them to love,
to need what I
need them
to need,
to be who
I decide
they should be,
but sometimes I do.

Never Again

Never again
will I have yesterday.
Never again
will I know exactly
what I know this moment.
Never again
will I have the chances
that this instant unfolds.

Midnight

Waxing crescent moon
floats like fat boat
toward western harbor.
Children sleep.
I knit another row,
draw tub for bath,
hope for tomorrow.

Celebration of Sorrow

Pain of loss
is shadow of love.
Deserves equal celebration.

Blessing for An Ordinary Day

Let me savor this day
bills, pills, homework,
dirty dishes, deadlines.
Let me savor each breath
Let me stay kind, patient.
Come death, I will wish
for one more ordinary day.

Don't Fix Anything, Abide

Sit with me in the dark
Don't reach for the switch.
Leave your flashlight in your pocket.
Sit with me in the storm.
Let my tears flood us both.
Don't hand me a tissue.
Things are as bad as they are.
Don't tell me they aren't.
Don't fix anything. Abide.

Awful Optimism (from an oxymoron prompt)

Awful optimism
insists I put
foot after foot
in deepest despair.
Somewhere light will
play on the water.
I can't quit, must
persevere to see it.
Tough task master,
life saver.
Awful optimism.

I Will Die

I will die
when and where
and how I die.
No guarantees.
No deals to cut.
I will focus
on how I live.

Reminder

Easy for me to think
I've lived long enough,
no tragedy if I die now.
No tragedy but I would
leave work unfinished,
people with holes in
routines,pattern incomplete.
Self care still matters.
I am reminded. Work to do yet.

Postcard from 60

Dreaded destination
proves minor milestone.
I thought old feel real.
I'm just myself with
aching knee, fewer days left,
more stories to tell.
Stigma of sixty is overrated.

April Fool

I wake to
one more April.
Fool again for
flowers, showers,
renewal of hope.

Wrapping Yarn - 5:31 am

Some mornings, this morning
I wake wrapped in helplessness.
Pain is. Tsunamis crash. War rage
Friends suffer. Diseases progress.
Clients give up. Death waits. Or doesn't.
I sit in bed, listen to my beloved breathe.
I know our days are numbered.
I cannot know their number.
I open bag of soft blue yarn, six skeins.
I wrap them into six neat blue balls.
Chances are the sun will rise and I
I will riise too and do what I can do.

Because I Do

Because I Do

I write when I don't feel like writing
because I am a writer
and writers write. Writers write.
I write with difficulty when I must
because I trust that when I write
with no inspiration, no motivation
I invite the energy, the mystery
that will eventually wake me
with cloudburst, songburst
of tuneful heartfelt words..
I write because I am a writer
and writers write. Writers write..
.
Victoria Hendricks
March 14, 2011

Up Too Late

I should sleep.
I need to be strong in the morning.
smart in the morning, awake, alert.
I treasure quiet house,
thoughts moving slower,
anxiety less intense.
I do not want to give up
up peace for sleep.

Victoria Hendricks
March 13, 2011

Can't Fake Strength

Can't fake strength.
Can doubt its presence,
resent need that demands
tap root reach deep source
Can pant, weep, curse, fear,
worry, wail, falter exhausted.
Strength comes when called
Does what needs doing.
Can't fake strength.

Victoria Hendricks
March 6, 2011

Winter White

Wisconsin, end of winter
world lays white horizon
to horizon, earth, sky,
Trees' black skeletons show
no promise of bud or leaf.
Color migrated with the warblers.
I must take it on faith snow
will melt, grass push up,
blossoms burst, color return.

Victoria Hendricks
March 6, 2011

Stripes

Prisoner of war
carries stripes of lash
on back all his days,
inescapble even
when hidden by
most expensive
silk shirt. My
own stripes,
yours, less visible
equally inescapable.

Sudden Death

I just found out by email
father of 11 year old boy,
son of online friend, husband
business man, church deacon
died suddenly Wednesday.
He was 39, still in summertime,
I will fashion soft knitting into
a heart warmer, add a cross button,
send it to his mother with a card,
It will not be enough. It will help.
I don't know what suffering took him.
Illness too strong,trauma too intense,
darkness too deep, hatred or mistake.
Death comes on her own terms
came for him, will come for me.
I will give my daughter an extra kiss.
All we can to is live and love tonight.

Victoria Hendricks
February 24, 1011

No Runcible Spoon

I am no runcible spoon,
as much as I've bent myself
out of and into shape trying
to be all things to all people
slice, dice, scoop, stir, spear,
heal, teach.provide, create.
I cannot be all, do all, help all
I am only what I am,
Can do only what I can.

Victoria Hendricks
February 24, 2011

*Definition of runcible spoon: A fork shaped like a spoon with three broad prongs, one having a sharpened edge like a knife. Used by Edward Lear in "The Owl and the Pussy Cat."

Safe Enough

Safe Enough


Real safety is illusion
Safe enough keeps hope alive.
Safe people listen and accept,
don't minimize, brush pain away,
offer platitudes, require solutions.
Safe people accept, allow, abide.

Victoria Hendricks
February 22. 2011

Prayer for Vision

This poem is the respoinse to BelleDiane's prompt regarding those who dance seeming crazy to those who don't hear the music.

Noah built ark through season of sun.
Henry Ford invested in horseless carriage.
Wright brothers took wing down island beach.
German Jewish mother, 1939, wrote American
cousin, begged passage for family to Chicago.
Rosa Parks kept her seat. Dr. King stood up.
Men in love held hands at concert, adopted child.

In office, park, grocery store,in conversation,on line,
I pray I hear spirit's music, find the steps, dance to call
of intuition, spirit, innovation, conscience,vision
in face of scorn of those who hear only the marching beat
of tradition, propriety, convention, the way it is done,
the easy, the predictable, the ordinary norm.
Courage, foresight, insight, invite scorn, buy life.

Victoria Hendricks
February 21, 2011

I Am Poems

These two poems are important to me, inspired by a friend's suggestion this morning. I haven't been posting poems, have been writing some but disjointedly. Maybe revealing my state here will get me going.


I am

I am connector and dreamer.
I wonder if it is too late for love.
I hear crying in the night.
I see sunlight on the river.
I want to erase pain.
I am connector and dreamer.
I pretend I am not afraid.
I feel colors like caresses.
I touch the face of the moon.
I worry I let people down.
I cry when my friends hurt.
I am connector and dreamer.
I understand real is better than perfect.
I say life is hard and life is good.
I dream of my beloved dead.
I try to stay in each moment.
I hope love is stronger than loss.
I am connector and dreamer.


Victoria Hendricks, 2/ 21/ 2011

I Am

I am exhausted and overwhelmed.
I wonder if I can be enough, do enough.
I hear words of hate, cries of pain.
I see messy rooms, suffering faces.
I want to make everyone OK.
I am exhausted and overwhelmed.
I pretend I know what to do next.
I feel need swirling like tornado.
I touch Bob's hand and feel death.
I worry I am not strong enough.
I cry out in powerlessness.
I am exhausted and overwhelmed.
I understand I will have more losses.
I say love is stronger than loss.
I dream of feeling safe.
I try to stay in the moment.
I hope I have enough to give.
i am exhausted and overwhelmed.

Victoria Hendricks, 2/21/2011

Many Chambers

Many Chambers

Memory has many chambers
nests of, solace, caves of sleep,
ballrooms bursting bright with dancers,
summer back porch rich with song,
dorm room, apartment kitchen with
box of newborn kittens and window
in the blooming trees, hospital waiting
rooms, emergency rooms, hospital rooms.
I go there to mourn, or to rejoice,
to remember who I was and what
I loved, lost, gained, dreamed, feared.
I cannot live there. Only in this single
simple unfolding instant can I live.

Puddling

Puddling - Case Against




Puddling into tears
is not my style.
It scares me.
When the worst
happens I need
earth under feet,
action to take,
no puddling
too scary to flow
liquid until crisis
has left debris.




Puddling - Case For


Tears wash resistance
out of body, loosen
muscles, bring restful
sleep, leave space
for fresh energy.
Puddling is passage,
not destination, not
oblivion, annihilation
Puddle crystalizes
into cleansed strength.


Victoria Hendricks
January 25, 2011

Time Machine

In the middle of my sentence
shape shifts, time collapses.
You sit cross legged on floor,
nursing you sleeping son
and suddenly I feel the warm
weight of your baby head,
the hungry suckling of your
hot lips at my own nipple.
Family is a time machine.


Victoria Hendricks
January 18, 2011