Tuesday, December 24, 2019

Needful panacea

Those precious tiny moments:
where the heart skip a beat,
& breath is caught up short…
Why can't there be more -- 
… strung closer together 
            to make all this 

A walk in the park (Snakebite)

Every independent action takes effort;
even a walk in the park takes initiative --
seems harmless enough, even restorative --
leaves & trees & filtered sunlight,
the smell of earthiness, ever so slight;
snippets of bright water sparkle below
my gaited steps alight a crooked path
and then, the lightening strike 
of the piercing pain of the snake bite

Now the real courage begins.
close to life – it is visible ahead --
yet surrounded by bewildering acres of wilderness
one thought in repetition – take action
no need to restore, no need to plan,
no need to drift, no need to notice
climb the hill, call the number, stay alert.

I didn’t know the snake bite would 
rob me of all the courage 
I had stored in a precious little box 
in my soul.
I didn’t know the snakebite would 
break my heart into little droplets 
of dissolved whimpers.
I didn’t know the snake bite would 
fill the core of my being with poison.
I didn’t know the physical challenge 
would be nothing compared to
marshaling my life back into existence.

November 27, 2019

Tuesday, June 25, 2019

Disseminating me

If you found my phone
would it tell you all 
about me?

Would my pictures of
stuff I see tell you 
about me?

Would my message threads
show the real truth of
who I am?

Would all my contacts
tell you about 
my values?

If I delete Facebook,
Instagram, Twitter 
and Pinterest –-
am I here?

I’ve grown to know me
nowrather well, now
that I’m me.

I am here watching,
thinking, learning all
about me:

what I value most,
how I ground myself,
how I gauge the world,
new – old things,
all over again.

It’s tough swimming
upstream with this bale
of principles 
and facts --  

but I am me
and I must.

Saturday, March 30, 2019

AGATHA CHRISTIE & the eleven missing days

“In my  experience, obsession is like getting caught in no man’s land.
You’d get out if you could, but you don’t know where the bullets are coming from.

You’re better off sitting in a shell hole covering your ears.
You never know, you might get lucky.”

Trapped by our outer obsessions is overall satisfying: the goal is met.
It’s the inner obsessions that cause all the trouble.

I just observed my doppelganger in a past life in this coffee shop.
Right away the denim overalls, teal t-shirt 
& moss canvas Maryjanes caught my eye.   Me.
However, her son – therefore not a true time traveling vision – 
at the table next to her on an iPad 
and she at her computer with her huge iPhone.
In fact the whole thing was looking a little too Pittsford chic.

So, I went back to daydreaming about why yoga studios 
never have anyone around when you need them 
and always look shabby outside.  
(Unless they are actually an upscale spa 
and in that case yoga is an afterthought.)

But then, oh then, she and son left and, in the parking lot I saw…

I saw them get into a jeep. A two door soft top jeep. 
Oh no. Way too close to home.
Except she unzipped the front window– what is that about?
A 1995 jeep?  That is so not me.

But then, oh then she went over the curb when she backed out.
I thought, get me out of here now. I need that 11 days.