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Tuesday, April 26, 2016

PAD - Day 26 - Love - anti-love "InViolated Love"

InViolated Love

they say that mother love
is inviolate love - bonds
impossible to break -
gifted to and from
this creature rolling
in waves within -
bursting from loins in
blood and ecstasy -
unknowable this mother
love - a mystic business
connecting cry to milk
pain in you own heart
when you mistakenly
prick it with a misnamed
safety pin - until you
stab it with a safety pin
feel its pain shiver in
your spine - shimmer on
this mystic mother love
as it rides a two wheeler
and you scream in joy
watching from a window -
feeling the wind in your
hair as his blows - at a
graduation - a first
ride in a car - first
love - a walk down an
aisle beaming - on and
on as it throws tiny
burgeoning large and
muscled - baby skin
giving way to peach
fuzz and unmistakable
fur - ah those arms
around you - here and
there through a gazillion
breaths taken in concert
this mother love - inviolate
marching on even when
inevitably as such things
must be the creature - infant
boy - now man machetes
the cord - careful if still
connected to your entrails
mother love - mystic -
connection that must
be disentangled gently at
each milestone juncture
of the loving journey

Sunday, April 24, 2016

NaWriPoMo - Day 18. A poem in the language of home... Sssssssh - your father




Sssssssssh – your father…

"Ssssssh your father..."
is getting ready for dinner
Ssssssh your father....
is eating at the table ...
silverware clinks, quiet
gulp of cool water
swallowed – he breathes
"Ssssssh your father ....
is going to the living room
to relax ...I follow and...
sit ...there next to this king
this raven haired young 
man as he placed ruby
records on the player –
and there – sitting next
to him … music crashed
shook the walls and
my small chest as I leaned
against the solid wall of
him and he cradled me
with an arm and I smiled

sssssh to them all….

Friday, April 22, 2016

The Pass-over




The Pass-over

I walk through the sands of time
beneath my feet slipping through
my fingertips – feel the gritty soft-
sepia – I sing four questions to my
grandfather keeping the trembling
desire for perfection away from joy
in his shining eyes – I walk the sands
of time with them in small books in
the hands of elders reading, - those -
patriarchs and matriarchs and
children of long ago stir in our
very blood and sit for a time at
our table among the fine linen
and dishes piled high with food
cooked with love and laughter
together in the scrubbed kitchen
I walk through the sands of time
my actual elders retelling the story
as I watch the crystal glass sparkle-
filled with sweet crimson wine set
aside – peek - feel the breeze of the
front door ajar – in welcome for
the possible entrance of an angel –
I walk the sands of time – as some
slip under –foot-prints vanish into
hearts – I walk the sands of time
teaching tiny hands to hold a small
book, cut meat for a parchment elder -
listen to the mystical miraculous
music of my own son sing in a high
clear voice the questions that I
answer – I watch the table shift
again –new family constellations
bright eyed well loved welcomed
children and love and laughter -
and the same questions asked -
and answered and crystal clinks
and laughtered songs and sand
slips and shifts and slips and shifts
the glimmer of the sepia shimmer
always moving all in the past un-
known but retold - pharaohs and infanticide
plagues and pyramids, parting seas and sacred
bushes - leaders, legends and legacy
injustice and resilience- exodus tumbling-
to tablets, smashed, castigated and
contrite, connected, walking through
sands of time the richness embraced the
walk continued - tasted again and again
in caves of inquisition -in the tortured
camps of death - the sands of time 
sifted shifted into the dance of a land,
into this land, onto these privileged lips -
through the sands of time
the legacy sweet as sipped wine…
unbreakable - unshakable - 
I walk the sands of time 
tonight at a table for 
two –
hundreds of hundreds of thousands -
walking through shifting sand in-
to a promise....
the walk
continues



Sunday, April 17, 2016

NaPoWriMo - Day 6. "Snowball Summers" flower poem




Hydrangea Free Stock Photo - Public Domain Pictures


Snowball Summers  

I called my grandmother
Mother -because she had
been too young to be a
grandmother - (though
later my own mother re-
vealed that she reviled
the rejection) -Mother's
hair was ebon pincurled
and at forty two she was
without qualm - setting
me, tiny granddaughter
free, alone - scrunching
in the wet perfume of her
snowball bushes- lush-
in that park of her back
yard - in that cool leafy
filagree-light darkness -
mystic wishes worthy
of any silvered grand-
mother floated all day
on hot summer breezes

NaPoWriMo - Day 17. Freud’s glossary of psychoanalytic terms - specialized dictionary

Sigmund Freud | Think Psychology





Freud’s glossary of psychoanalytic terms 

He lay there on my couch
the first fellow never knew
that the couch upon which 
he sprawled was purchased
with his long limbs in mind-
Never knew that he was my
First,whispering abreactions
in that small room – on that
new couch smelling of fresh
unworn leather and cathexis
our collective unconscious not
yet collected as, virgin analyst
sat stealing glances in a small
mirror strategically placed so
that I could watch my counter-
transference – exhale the con-
densation of the drive driven
dreams with which perhaps un-
known to him he stroked each
erotogenic zone along the length
of my earliest days censorship
on high alert - alone with him 
as he lay there on my couch
my first of so very many – 
ego, id, super-sized-ego 
Mr. ____  _____  _____ -
the one that would never – 

could never ever be - 
forgotten. 

Morning -



Morning 
I stretch check a hole in 
my left sock - lost until
first sight this morning
when it lay on my chest
- testament to forget-ting
or phantasma .. pull it on
over my how-can-it- be
getting-old-foot,  shake
feathers from my head
left over from a night
of deep dreams and
rise to rattle into an-
other day 




Friday, April 15, 2016

NaPoWriMo - Day 6. "Chocolate Kisses" - Food Poem

They might as well have lips

into my parted lips
they insinuate one 
after the other in
a madness of un-
quenchable lust
until shining in 
silver slivered 
wrapping I lay
slightly sick 
certainly 
smiling 

NaPoWriMo - Day 5. "Linaria, Fairy Bouquet" Heirloom Seeds

Linaria, Fairy Bouquet


you float ferny 
delicate dancing
flitting gossamer
a fairied bouquet
tossed on the wind


NaPoWriMo- Day 4. "November" - the cruelest month




November 

raucous riot of color
crisp air - perhaps a
wafting toasted chest-
nut - crunching - bright
with a feast at its end -
all introduction to bare
iced march of winter
approaching on dead
legs

NaPoWriMo- Day 3. "Dear Younger Me" - fan letter



Dear Younger Me

I must take the opportunity
so granted to shower you
with gratitude for choosing
to take the plunge into those
aquamarine waters so very
long ago - when our belly
was flat and our horizons
endless.  I must take this
opportunity to tell you that
as you knew with such -
certitude and attitude - that
was the absolute correct
moment to inhale the frangipani
air and float into years of sailing
on crystal waters - You changed
our lives - with your twenty- year
old wisdom - carpe dieming our
soul sealed with possibility for-
ever

Thank you
Older Me...

NaPoWriMo- Day 1. 4 Lunes (2 Kelly - 2 Collum) Lune ...

~
there out the window
on a branch
harbinger of spring

~
you calling to me
screechingly
scraping my heart raw

~
in the whispered wind
I hear you
calling softly 'Come'

~
she sat in the rain
sopping summer dress
drying her tears
~


NaPoWriMo- Day 2. - "Family Portrait" - family portrait






Family Portrait*

In miniature now
down to only two
that count - an we
not related by blood
except for the warfare
of the heart that ripped
all asunder and left us
to bleed and bandage
heal and love again
together.





*not quite autobiographical

NaPoWriMO - Day 11 - "Oliver" - object and ending



Oliver

cat persons say he chose us
at five weeks – puff of coal
at the doorstep in the rain
pouring – we were German
Shepherd people – and all
the shepherds had gone to
their elysian fields –leaving
us free to Kerouac it any-
time we chose – cat persons
say he chose us five years
ago – slid into our lives as an-
other person an interesting
roomie – with no ostensible
bad habits – no dropped fur
scratching, meowing, lap-
sitting or drooling – aware
of anything out of place –
an errant fleck of paper
a drop of water fallen to
the floor – a chair turned
slightly more left or right –
all such caused that stare
my father’s eyes returned to me.



NaPoWriMo 2016 - Day 12 - "Index - Free Association - Abyssinian Love " Index Poem



Free Association – Abyssinian Love

Abyssinian – the kind of cat I imagined would recline on my chest purring.
Argument      began as an offhanded remark about feline similarities
Bonded         intertwined this sudden sense of connection
Blended        as smooth cream
Capucian      on the screen a small screech of an infant primate
Cappuccino foolishly connecting a vision of cinammoned foam  
Desperate    reaching for the kindred connection
Deliberate   arch of the spine and opening of the eye
Edifying      gleaning that the glint that was – no longer beckons
Egregious   this long lasted now comrade union of two
Frankly       fed up with the one who is more me than myself
Fantastic     that decades have piled onto one another a
Golem         shadow of the two who clutched at each other
Gorgeous    in lush, lusty, loving
Hilarity        rolling from lips and hips
Horrific        the thought that ever it would different
Idiosyncratic this love we agreed
Inane          and innocent this certainty of endless delight
Justifiy        that all eventually come to this point
Juxtapose  an overlay of two slim nudes over two bundled
Kite            that sweet red silk flying in a blue sky out the window
Kettle          that copper whistle blowing ready
Lithe           the sinuous stretch of the cat
Lucid          suddenly clear
Manic       need for the past vanished
Mechanism of love clicking solidly and sheerly lovely
Negligee      of our dance
Nightmare   away from the terror of isolation
Odious        the thought of the other gone
Oxymoron   smile at this contradiction of love the one you wish gone
Pearlescent patina shimmers in natural light
Perilous      that now passed desire to examine   
Quixotic      our converged coupledom
Queenly      my image reflected in those eyes
Riesling       sparkling in the crystal glass
Risen          those for a moment flagging spirit
Succubus    within receding, melting in the warmth
Succulent    the decades piled one upon the other
Treacherous pulling apart the years, to minutes of now
Truculent     never in the fading light
Undulating   that cat within and across the room
Universal     slinking, sashaying, jump
Vacuous     no longer in the appreciation of the absence of
Vitriol          never part of the conversation or connection 
Winsome    laying there on the couch
Wisp           of aquamarine tropical shores floating nude
Xanthous     daisies dotting deep green field
Xylophone   chimes in the clear crisp air
Yesterday   a song, a dance, a love
Yucca         succulent
Zen             serene
Zodiac         impossible, magic, mystic, as the eye of an Abyssian – us