Wednesday, October 19, 2016

I Learned to Sing

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"Everything becomes a little different as soon as it is spoken out loud."
~Hermann Hesse

You know the old saying? "Children are to be seen, and not heard.", as a child I heard that line more times than I care to admit.   There was a certain expectation then of children.  A respect that needed no words only a look that spoke volumes of dismay with one stone hard glance.   There are certain silences that move through years like time travelers, whispering in our ear and telling us what to think and what to do for years to come.  Being the daughter of the time of silence, I have spent my entire adulthood trying to be heard.  The following is my contribution to Poets United's Midweek Motif ~Conversation
Come join us! 

I learned to sing at a young age
sitting on the bus
carrying my voice 
loud and strong 
against the loud 
engine of the bus
no one was listening
only bugs that flew in 
the open window 
at my seat
it was 
a wonderful
feeling to belt out a tune
with my own voice
 for usually I
spoke too softly
to be truly heard
and it would
not have mattered
people were 
too busy 
to catch
the message
in between 
the lines
many years
had passed
a pen and paper
replaced the songs
with poems
that I shared them
 I could
and now
here I am
once again
a poem
a long

Thursday, October 13, 2016

The Mountains Speak to Me

Photo Credit

Linking with Imaginary Gardens for Hannah's "Transforming with Nature's Wonders" prompt.
Take a look and join in.

The Mountains Speak to Me,

Hush city
Let my heart follow where it will
to the tallest mountains and the river's rill
You see
my soul has already wed nature's call
where feet may wander and may also fall
like lonely hearts that search the shore
and always leave wanting more
no city block can fill the void
nor lure me in to it's inner noise
for I was betrothed at a tender time
to take a path that leads to a mountain pine
where the sky reins and trees abound
a place where birds follow and know the sound
can you hear it?
I can.......
Google Images photo

Saturday, July 23, 2016

A Language No Book Can Teach

The heart is not simply suspended in a body but in a culture, a place, a time.
  ~Mimi Guarneri, The Heart Speaks

Thursday, June 9, 2016


Google Images

Ideas are like wandering sons.  They show up when you least expect them.  ~Bern Williams

Thursday, April 28, 2016

Open Wide

photo by Tom Chambers

Also linking with Poet's United and Midweek Motif ~ Open / Openess

The willingness to share does not make one charitable; it makes one free. ~Robert Brault

Open wide your heart like a door and welcome life in like a deer upon your fine dining table.
Open wide your hands like a moon flower and reach out toward the dark of night.
Open wide your mind like a window and venture out to see and feel the gravel on the other side of the tracks.
Open wide your arms like an armoire and embrace all that life has given you to hold,
so that you may have the strength and grace to give some back to those who cross your path.

Sunday, April 10, 2016

The Truest Gifts

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 Linking with Poets United for Poetry Pantry 297 posted by Mary

Love cures people—both the ones who give it and the ones who receive it.
 ~Karl Menninger

It is in the giving of true love and refuge 
that we receive it at its softest core.
It folds back like a large soft blanket
and warms the original giver once more.
You cannot truly give it and not in turn
truly reap it's truest gift
for giving and receiving in some ways
are strongly connected at the hip.

Giving is receiving and receiving is giving....that is how it seems it can be sometimes to me.  When we learn to give graciously and we learn to receive graciously; we learn something about true gifts and giving back and how they are in so many ways connected.  If you know anyone that is deeply involved in the process of recovery of AA, CR, or NA, then you have seen someone that is in the process of consistently giving back to others.  The wonderful truth of it is this:  the act of giving of oneself is a very rewarding thing.  Having said that, I would like to share a story from when I was 11 years old:

My father had just married my new step mother, and we were driving home from a long day out.  It was dark and I was very tired dozing off in the car in between them in the front seat.  My step mother graciously laid my head upon her lap so that I could rest for the remainder of the trip.  I still member it like it was yesterday.  I held my head slightly hovered at her lap, and never truly let my head rest upon her legs.  Looking back, I am not sure why I could not relax and receive her gift of comfort.  It was a sweet gesture that no one else had ever offered before, and I guess I just did not know how to receive it completely.  I realize now, that it was a gracious gift that I missed out on affecting her as well as me, and it is a good example of how giving and receiving are truly connected at the hip.  

Sunday, April 3, 2016

No Net

Also linking with Poets United for Poetry Pantry #296

All of life is the exercise of risk. ~William Sloane Coffin

I have always longed to have the heart of a daredevil performer
 flying the trapeze and walking the high wire tightrope 
moving confidently forward with no net to play it safe
yet instead my heart has chosen to stay behind the scenes
content to be a quiet cook standing still in the kitchen of life
willing to serve love and soft devotion on a plate
just be ware my complacent lover....
there may be a wild hair in the
 middle of your mashed potatoes!

Sunday, March 20, 2016


photo by Damien Derouene

Also linking with Poets United for "Poetry Pantry" #294 hosted by Mary.
I always have such a hard time making it to the pantry on Sundays, I am happy I made it here today.
Spring represents promise of new things and good changes, like Mary, it is a favorite season for me as well, so I am going to make a promise to myself this spring to make it to Poetry Pantry more often

Take risks: if you win, you will be happy; if you lose, you will be wise.
~Author Unknown

I don't want to be the pawn in another man's own game
nor watch another play his hand and never do the same.

Standing on the sidelines always playing it safe,
afraid to get my sneakers and go out and run the race.

I long to reach out my hand and play the queen of hearts
and not be frightened of losing the game before it even starts.

A poet is a thinker, a dreamer, and a dweller on the muse
sometimes he gets too caught up on what another man may do..

So I shall lay down my pen and pick up the sword of life
take a swing and hold the freedom of moving my own knight.

Wednesday, March 9, 2016

My Love Letter to the World

A letter always seemed to me like immortality because it is the mind alone without corporeal friend.  ~Emily Dickinson

From the time I was just a little girl 
flinging my legs high into the air on the swing
my heart was writing a love letter to the world, 
and penciling in each hope and every dream.

With time the words got bigger as did my questions why,
and the lines got all filled up as the book grew ever long.
I held on to every endearment and memory like a prize,
for the message became heavier but it read more like a song.

My love letter to the world will always be an unfinished work
my thoughts and recollections that forge onward to days ahead.
For the heart of every human is a voice that could be heard
and some choose to keep it closed while others long to have it read.

This prompt is a fitting one to announce the publication of my first book:
"Butterflies and Land Mines"
Many of the poems inside were inspired by Magpie Tales.
Thank you Tess!

I would also like to thank Ninot Aziz for all her encouragement and much needed editing!!

Butterflies and Land Mines

The Cure for Flying Fears

Linking with Imaginary Gardens for the "Tuesday Platform" where Marian shares her anxiety for April and tackling a poem a day, and her BIG moment meeting her literary hero Michael Chabon.  I decided to share a story from long ago that I think covers both subjects; anxiety and meeting someone famous.  Although, my story also has a bit of humiliation to add to the scenario.
So here we go:
 Many years ago when I was in my 30's, my dear friend paid for me to fly to Ft. Worth to visit for my birthday.  I had not flown in over 10 years and my flight there was a total disaster for me.  I tried to keep my composure, but in my head I was freaking out.  All I could think about was how fast the plane was going, what a horrific death it would be if it crashed, and how I was going to give my friend a piece of mind for putting me through such torment.  She laughed when I told her about it, and being the wise and patient friend that she is, she told me that she would buy me a double margarita at the airport for the flight back.
 When we arrived at the airport to send me back home, we made a quick trip to the bar to quench my fears so they would depart my body.  Eventually we were at the waiting area and my friend noticed that the guys from the band "The Cure" were also on my flight.  At the time, I was not familiar with their music, but it was obvious they were a band, and some girls were getting their autograph.  By the time the plane was loading, they had already been seated in first class.  My friend sweetly walked with me all the way to the opening of the airplane.  Conveniently, it was right in the eye view of "first class".  Before we said our goodbyes, she explained to the stewardess that I had a BIG fear of flying and to take good care of me.  For a moment I was back in grade school, feeling the embarrassment that one feels when their mother exposes their little issues, like "she does wet the bed sometimes" or "that tangled mess on her head is a rat's nest no comb can move through" but lets not forget my favorite, "don't give her red meat, it gives her gas!"  All I could think about was I have just been totally humiliated in front of a rock band!  What luck, next stop VEGAS!!  Don't get me wrong, I was never mad at my friend in the slightest.  She was just so worried about me and her motives were genuine.  It was just bad timing, or I guess bad luck.  I walked meekly passed the band into coach where the road crew and all us nobodies fly.  As the plane took off and headed to Houston, I realized that my crazy fear, was almost gone.  I am not sure if it was the double margarita or the distraction of the rock band, but whatever it was, I was not dying a million deaths in my head and for that I was very grateful!!  Evidently"The Cure", was my cure!

Wednesday, January 27, 2016

The Fear of Falling

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Fear is the highest fence.  ~Dudley Nichols

It is the falling that always gets to us
that keeps a person away from the scenic edge

holding tight to the railing for safety
distancing one's feet from the outer ledge.
That feeling of utter loss of control
when there is nothing below our feet
and the uncertainty of the landing
becomes another excuse to surely retreat.
For falling in love is a force that takes us off the beaten path
and if we choose to follow, it takes all the courage we have.

 linking with Poet's United for the Mid Week Motif ~ "Courage"

Saturday, January 23, 2016

Wisdom Has Callused Feet

The man who views the world at fifty the same as he did at twenty has wasted thirty years of his life. ~Muhammad Ali

If I could go back in time and look at my wedding through my divorced eyes what would I see? Would it be disappointment or a waist of time?
A bouquet of regrets held by a fool in white?

If I could go back to my childhood roots and see myself skipping through eyes with now slow shoes what would I see?  Would it be awkward steps that lead to the wrong road? A journey of ignorance or a blind traveler that still rushes to the unknown?

Truth is I just can't go back.  There are no time travelers and no magic rabbits in hats.
This life I have been living is a course that must be  hardily explored to advance.
For wisdom is a raw experience that requires exertion to truly understand.

When I look back over my life I realize that there is no way that I could know then what I know now.  Even if I could travel in time and give my self a million warnings, and believe me I needed a million of them, it just would not be the same.  I am who I am today because of all the troubles and the many blessings combined.   They have all played a part in molding me into the person I have become; a person full of compassion, hope, love, tolerance, a little bit of wisdom, with hands that know how to let go of regrets, and a few calluses to prove it. :-)

Thursday, January 7, 2016


Charing Cross Road, 1937 by Wolfgang Suschitzky

"Time and the hour run through the roughest day."
~William Shakespeare

This one is for you Berowne.  You will be missed by many indeed. :-(

Sometimes it feels as if all I have done is make a mad dash through my life.  As if I am in a race against time, I storm through a situation and place, and I am fast.  Swift like a cheetah on the pursuit of another meal.  You could call it, the big hunt for fulfillment, and you could call me "Flash", cause that is all you will see of me even if you are dear to my heart.  I am being brutally honest here.  Cannot sugar coat in the rain unless you want an even bigger mess.  The new year is upon us, and my hope for myself is to be more available to those I love.

The time in between the years
the dash on the marble stone
I guess I have taken it literally
I dash from here to there
across puddles in my path
from my car into the store
and back again
one job to the next
a never ending relay race
that only I run
and the winner is:
drum roll please....