of places I am ~
14 Friday Nov 2014
Posted in Poetry
14 Friday Nov 2014
Posted in Poetry
13 Thursday Nov 2014
Posted in Poetry
Tags
becoming, breath, connection, conscious consciousness, destiny, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, living, love, old maps, passion, poetry, relationship, spirit, strength, truth, understanding, value, wandering
of verses
few are written
my passion to discern
no meter come
to match
my violin
language not yet
given breath
to longing unconfessed
cept in that tiny realm –
we are again
where sacred deemed
a moment dear
as none before the same
no poetry
committing us
to rhyme
eternities
and ne’er a line
could answer for my soul
or speak above
a silence
so divine
. . .
08 Saturday Nov 2014
Posted in a time for telling, Poetry
Tags
becoming, connection, conscious consciousness, destiny, faith, family, fearless, grace, gravel roads, home, knowledge, life, love, memory, old maps, passion, poetry, postmark, reason, restless, southern, spirit, truth, understanding, value, wandering
once
and I was here before
watching from the window
on a piece of land
and thirteen stones
by name
thirty steps
from screen to gate
sixteen more to leaving
headlights swept
above a gravel plan
dusty now
to keepsake hopes
by one of me forgotten
crayola words
tho who to recognize
the shape of words
spilling verse
counting back to heaven
crooked boards
remember me
a poem undefined
. . .
07 Friday Nov 2014
Posted in a time for telling, Poetry
Tags
becoming, bliss, connection, destiny, faith, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, living, love, old maps, passion, poetry, restless, spirit, strength, truth, understanding, value, wandering, wonder
listen
there my only sin
retelling graces
I have known
another way
with words rehearsed
in silence
let me stay
a moment here
pull around me covers
let me wake
to witness
where the story leaves
and what of paths
I’ve worried
back to you
fingerprints
and souvenirs
proof of love
I’ve gathered
in places not foretelling
the reaches
of my soul
. . .
04 Tuesday Nov 2014
Posted in Poetry
Tags
bliss, breath, connection, conscious consciousness, destiny, faith, fearless, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, love, old maps, poetry, reason, spirit, star crossed, truth, understanding, value, wonder
pray me down
another night
when stars are realigned
remembering a space
that never was
a letting go
before the fates
conspired me to holding
your silences
much longer
than your verse
stay the wake
of evermore
a day beyond the last
wherein the light
is waiting
for a voice
a quiet reassurance
of where and here we lay
poetry
and tender worlds
to write
. . .
04 Tuesday Nov 2014
Posted in Poetry
Tags
becoming, bliss, breath, conscious consciousness, destiny, faith, grace, gravel roads, life, love, old maps, passion, poetry, reason, restless, spirit, strength, understanding, value, wandering
i crossed the creek
at sunday dawn
before the light
burned golden
closed my eyes
to listen
as wild
the heart was come
wings were barely touching
souls the same
as mine
do you ever
won’t you tarry
in places I am keeping
one hundred years
a bed
nobody owns
becoming mine
when grampa died
sometimes i hear
him playing –
a banjo meant for
crooked boards and wine
once before
the way was lost
i thought a while
for this –
of breath
when there was nothing
else to know
wing’eds press
against the blue
woodsmoke sunday morning
the creek is rising
soon i’ll come
for you
. . .
03 Monday Nov 2014
Posted in a time for telling, Poetry
Tags
becoming, cherokee, conscious consciousness, faith, fearless, grace, life, living, love, old maps, passion, poetry, spirit, strength, truth, understanding, value, wisdom, wonder
Over the weekend, I agonized a bit over making a picture of myself. I tend to love being on the other side of the lens, and in my agonizing I realized why. I like the view and I see (I think) with kinder eyes, especially when looking at those I love. I suspect it’s because I have a deeper appreciation for story.
I thought about a black and white picture that adorns several things here, and why I love it. Surely, I was younger, but the appeal is not that. I love the picture because it represents a time when I was new to the big city, and yet at home most in jeans and flannel. In that perception, not much has changed.
But, a new picture reminds me that I’m not that girl anymore (and yet, I am).
Putting on eye shadow has never been difficult for me. And yet, I can’t help but notice a difference in recent years – the skin moves with the brush as always, but it doesn’t bounce back. I like thinking that the lines in my eyelids, as well as those around my eyes and smile, are etchings of experience, lines of character. They’re proof of the story.
Life is full of wrinkles, and wrinkles are reminders that life has been lived. Regardless of what miracle creams we use, we can’t “un-live” life, and trying to erase the journey seems rather sad to me.
Age is a funny thing. I think of how many times we hear the words, “If I had known then what I know now …” The truth of the matter, though, is that what happened then is why we know what we know now. Perhaps, we should try to appreciate all of the experiences, even those we find to be least comfortable. Life is filled with happy stories, sad tales, and the making of more than a few lines.
“Some women and men over forty spend money fighting gravity with cosmetics and cosmetic surgery. That’s their ball game. That’s their parade. More power to them. There was once this woman named Gertrude Stein. She was the aesthetic opposite of Marilyn Monroe. I never knew Ms. Stein but from what I’ve read about her life I would venture to say that she was approximately (there’s no way of measuring such things…well, there are a couple of ways) a million times happier than Marilyn Monroe. Sexy on the outside doesn’t do much for ugly on the inside. This isn’t to say that Marilyn Monroe was ugly on the inside. I’m sure she was really f…ing gorgeous on the inside, too. Bottom line: sparkle on the INSIDE can enhance ANYTHING on the outside.”
I can’t imagine ever not loving hip hugger jeans, but the days of wearing them with a bright yellow halter are past. Instead, they’re worn with an old t-shirt, a bit of sparkle, and a story. The story is worth every single line.
In that, I am also reminded of words a sweet soul once shared with me. In a moment of madness, I fretted over competing with women younger and prettier. The response is one I hold near to this day, ‘but you’re a poet’……….
fancy this
a truth divine
was never meant
for losing –
and somewhere still
the sea retreats
and never feels the sand
. . .
02 Sunday Nov 2014
Posted in Poetry
31 Friday Oct 2014
Posted in Poetry
Tags
becoming, bliss, connection, conscious consciousness, destiny, dreaming, dreams, fearless, flannel, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, love, old maps, passion, poetry, postmark, sacred intimacy, solace, southern, spirit, strength, understanding, value, woman, wonder

morning
and I hear
soul in the rain
dancing the two step
on tin
shimmering light
as rainbows
I colored
of faraway places
retracing
again
soft recollection
of kiss
and caress
storms in the forest
– dreams
we begin
branches
are touching
where music still plays
a murmur
of longing
let loose
to the wind
. . .
28 Tuesday Oct 2014
Posted in Poetry
Starry-eyed Writer, Cautious Philosopher, Hopeful Romantic
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