Dec 12/31/19 --> 01/01/20

Hello world … you merry-go-round

Hello world … you merry-go-round

(What have you got for me?)

The old year is bulldozed away-- 

good riddance --

and the new one rings in 

like a vaudeville curtain call.

I couldn’t keep up anyway.

I like the old ways too. Like you --

like consideration and caring 

and cozy blankets. 

You know, like when there is a class act

in the poor and dignified as well as 

in the privileged who sacrifice

anonymously and with grace. 

Let the winter skies stay awhile

hovering overhead and directing 

our gazes closer to where

we see each other, really see 

ourselves in each other.

December 31, 2019     

Needful panacea

Those precious tiny moments:

where the heart skips a beat,

& breath is caught up short…

Why can't there be more -- 

… strung closer together 

            to make all this 

            bearable?

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

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.

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.

Waiting for Hurricane Florence

(a pantoum)

I opened the closet door

and the boxes fell into my arms -- before

landing on my chest and on down to the floor

spilling pencils, pens, paper, and more

needed things, useful things -- to store.                 

I opened the balcony door

and let the outside in,

the quiet of peaceful abandonment.

Inside being in order and by plan:

needed things, useful things -- what for?

Outside windy impulses span

time and I let the outside inside me roar:

needed things, useful things -- restore

landing on my chest and on down to the floor

to let the outside inside me for more,

I open the all the doors.