My World

My 44 Magnum earrings.  I was inspired to make these after I saw a member of the Danish Symphony wearing a pair.  Armed and loaded. :-)

Tomatoes!  I’ve already eaten three. 

Heaven on a stem.

My Peach Roses by my St. Francis statue.

Lemongrass after a rain.

Garfield napping by my Ficus Fig trees. 

My neighbor’s brilliant Mimosa tree.

Wind poems & a video I made...

A breeze I captured passing through my front yard...

Windchime

BY TONY HOAGLAND

She goes out to hang the windchime

in her nightie and her work boots.

It’s six-thirty in the morning

and she’s standing on the plastic ice chest

tiptoe to reach the crossbeam of the porch,

windchime in her left hand,

hammer in her right, the nail

gripped tight between her teeth

but nothing happens next because

she’s trying to figure out

how to switch #1 with #3.

She must have been standing in the kitchen,

coffee in her hand, asleep,

when she heard it—the wind blowing

through the sound the windchime

wasn’t making

because it wasn’t there.

No one, including me, especially anymore believes

till death do us part,

but I can see what I would miss in leaving—

the way her ankles go into the work boots

as she stands upon the ice chest;

the problem scrunched into her forehead;

the little kissable mouth

with the nail in it.

_______________

Who Has Seen the Wind?

BY CHRISTINA ROSSETTI

Who has seen the wind? 

Neither I nor you: 

But when the leaves hang trembling, 

The wind is passing through. 

Who has seen the wind? 

Neither you nor I: 

But when the trees bow down their heads, 

The wind is passing by.

Source: The Golden Book of Poetry (1947)

____________________

An Empty House is a Debt by Diana Nguyen

.

Days of Roses Passed...  My long gone Rose

AN EMPTY HOUSE IS A DEBT

Diana Nguyen

1There is a house in me. It is empty. I empty it.Negative space: the only native emptiness there is.There is

2An alarm goes off. It goes on and on. When the alarmdrifts to different parts of the room,I realize, that alarm is the sun.
3And there is no one who does not need,never an empty seat. And the blind one,he does not find a place. There is a god in himhelping him to need himself.
4A mother sticks a spoon into my chest,which is an empty bowl, actually,so the spoon lands quicklyand loudly. Heartbreak in the heart! she says.
5I reach inside my empty house: as far as I’m allowed to go.I reach outside my empty house: as far as I’m allowed to go.
6Or don’t love me, what do I care?I am tired of feeling guilty; I am tired of running up a tab.I want to run outside with a sack of huge penises on my back—into the empty houses of ex-lovers, of mothers, birdsscreaming out my name.A human terrifies.A human is someone who becomes terrified, and having become terrified,craves an end to her fear.This craving carves a cave.
7What is a maze if there is nothing to find in the maze.I find myself angry at nothing.
8My lovers bow before me as though before Medusa.Tell them you love them. See what they say.Or say it to yourself, and see what you say.When you love someonemore than you’ve ever known you could, it isa good thing, except for the terrifyingrealization that one day there comesa parting.

Uninspired by Traffic, A Classic

Uninspired by Traffic

From the album:  “Shoot Out at the Fantasy Factory”, 1973

Sometimes I feel so uninspired
Sometimes I feel like giving up
Sometimes I feel so very tired
Sometimes I feel like I've had enough
Sometimes you feel like you've been hired
Sometimes you feel like you've been bought
Sometimes you feel like your room's been wired
Sometimes you feel like you've been caught

But don't let it get you down, no, no
There is no reason for not failing
You've got to smile and turn the other cheek
So today you might be done
By tomorrow you'll be sailing
And you won't even hear these words I speak

Some people want to be so desired
Some people can't stand the light of day
Someone laughing, while someone is crying
And old folks are watching the close of the day
But sometimes I feel like my head is spinning
The hunger and pain is all I see
I don't know who's losing
And I don't know who's winning
Hardships and trouble are following me

But don't let it get you down
There is every reason for not failing
You've got to smile and turn the other cheek
So today you might be done
By tomorrow you'll be sailing
And you won't even hear these words I speak

Some people want to be so desired
Some people can't stand the light of day
Someone is laughing, while someone is crying
Old folks are watching the close of the day
But sometimes I feel like my head is spinning
Hunger and pain is all I see
I don't know who's losing
And I don't care who's winning
Hardships and trouble are following me

Songwriters: Jim Capaldi / Steve Winwood

Some Funnies & My Beautiful Baby Girl!

Right???  Hilarious!!! 

INSANITY!  Like asking to be kidnapped, raped & murdered!

I adore nouns of assemblage! :-)

My daughter Sarah, with Tennessee Titans Quarterback, Marcus Mariota, at "Rally on the Runway" in Nashville May 2, for Children's Cancer Research, a great cause.

Dear Morning by Marion

I grew this magnificent being...

Squash blossom

Past year’s flags & new year’s.  Let your freak flags fly!!!!

Dear Morning:

By Marion

I wake with these lyrics

going round and round my head:

"And the days go by

like a strand in the wind

in the web that is my own

I begin again..."  ~Stevie Nicks, 'Edge of Seventeen'

I put the coffee on, then

head out the back sliding

glass doors to the patio.

The morning dew glistens on the 

freshly cut grass and

dragonflies dip and sip

like flying jewels,

wings sparkling

in the new day's sun.

I am present for this moment.

I'm alive and I see.

What more is there?

I water the garden.

The Bush Beans are

leaning, reaching

toward the rising sun.

The Squash blossoms 

vibrate with yellow-ness.

The Tomato leaves 

generously release

their unique fragrance---

The Catalpa tree

drops a blossom at

my dew-covered bare feet.

I look up...there are no blossoms

anywhere on the old tree.

A gift, this little Orchid-like

flower.  Thank you, tree.

Birdsong surrounds me,

a chorus of life and joy.

Thank you, Morning,

for your generous gifts.

April Fades into Nothingness...

Hello, Death!

Be kind.  We are all fighting a hard, losing battle.

Khloé Kale & Moon modeling clown outfits.  Moon is pissed off. :)

Dear Old by Marion

My treasures on my kitchen altar.  I love the fish bone I found on a beach in Galveston shaped like Jesus on the cross.

Dear Old:

I fucking HATE you.

The pain, the dry everything

that once was not,

the gravity, the falling,

the feigning, the lack of,

the emptiness, the clicking

& clacking of my bones,

the no-fucking-hormones,

the ugliness of bare,

the loss, the LOSS, THE LOSS,

the fat, the jowls, the bags,

the feeling like a hag,

the stench of death

where once was life,

the strife,

the longing for an ending,

the end of beginnings,

the day's glued to days,

the pain, the pain, the endless PAIN!

the regret, THE REGRET(!)

the no money, no vacation,

the stagnation,

the _______.

11/4/16

Write a Book a Year by Deborah Digges

Ten years ago Deborah Digges took her life, jumping off the top of a stadium.  I like to think she flew.  Being a poet is a painful occupation—-we feel too much.  

Happy Poetry Month (which is all year at my house).

Write a Book a Year by Deborah Digges

Well the wild ride into the earth was thrilling,
really, scared as I was and torn and sore.
I say what other woman could have managed it?
My life before then
picking flowers against my destiny
what glance, what meeting,
who was watching, what we don’t know we know,
the hour we chose and we are chosen.
And suddenly the dead my mission,
the dark my mission.
He’d find me pounding out the hours.

Spring is for women, spring clawing at our hearts.
We are pulled forward by our hair
to be anointed in the barren garden.

I want the dark back, the bloody well of it,
my face before the fire,
or lie alone on the cold stone and find a way
to sleep awhile, wake clear and wander.

From:  “The Wind Blows Through the Doors of my Heart”

Seizure by Marion

Seizure

By Marion

FLASH!!! 

Lights, lights, lights,

Bright, bright, bright, bright!

FIREWORKS!  BOMBS!!!!!!

     Knocked me off the bed——-

Shocks!  Volts of electrified light

EXPLODING in my head, my head,

MY HEAD IS ON FIRE!!!!!!!!  

Sleep has tossed me into

Hell’s blazing flames!

Am I dying?

(Brain storm)?

CLANG, CLANG, CLANG

CLANG, CLANG, CLANG, CLANGING!!!!!!!!!

CACAPHONY OF SYMBOLS CRASHING!

Can’t move, can’t scream...

Suddenly, abruptly, it’s over.

Only echoes & spasms

jerking my shocked psyche

and body...

I wake, stunned, broken

and

shattered.

3/29/19