Friday, June 27, 2014

Greenhouse Roof

Greenhouse Roof

It was there in the aisle, 
to the right of the Orchids, 
the left of the cacti, and
directly in front of the palms,
that a thought became clear.
As I followed on his heels,
he was pushing the clattering cart
across the concrete floor,
and I watched him look around
with boyish wonder.
There was no specific reason
for such a thought to occur.
I was not contemplating matters.
Surely it had nothing to do
with the heady feeling
of embracing in the parking lot
to share a moment kissing,
so oblivious
to anyone around.
But perhaps it may have been
how my heart leaped a bit
when he stooped to greet a small tree
as though speaking to a pet,
"Well look at YOU," he said,
and I felt the smile in my soul
reflect across my face.
Perhaps it was just the hot sun...
shining down through the greenhouse roof,
changing states of consciousness.
I only know
against that backdrop of peach and plum trees,
ceramic planters,
and so many fragrant flowers...
I realized I could easily
and contentedly
do this
with him
for the remainder of my life...


To Miss You

To Miss You

To miss you
It doesn't begin in days
or even hours...
It begins the moment we part,
watching you walk away,
and wanting to dart up behind you
for just one more squeeze and smile.
To miss you
isn't for reasons you may think,
but for the reasons you don't realize
mean so much;
the way you pick me clear off the floor
when we meet;
how you clear wisps of hair from my temple
and touch me gently while i'm driving
the way you always plant soft kisses
on my forehead;
the way you call me beautiful
even when I'm sure I look my worst;
how you hug me from behind
when i'm doing dishes;
the way you press me to you
when we kiss;
how one hand touches me softly
even when you are busy with something else.
To miss you
is to miss your smile,
that funny way you flip your tongue at me
like a little frog,
how you catch my eyes across a room,
how I melt like warm chocolate
into you.
To miss you
is all the things once read about
in stories and romantic pictures,
but never knew for myself.
It's the joy of being a couple
and knowing we are part of
one another.
It's the anticipation of seeing you
and feeling my heart pound
and my tummy flutter.
To miss you
is love...


A Pondering About Artists

A PONDERING ABOUT ARTISTS... and work, drives toward dreams that can be made reality...verses family and obligations. Much of it is a fine line and can cause discord. Noting for a moment that many careers are time consuming...for instance doctors, and other skilled professions...the years of school, not only class and clinical work, but hours of studying, and then endless hours of double shifts, on-call duties. I do realize that most professions carry an air of certainty, in money-making ability, and society as a whole seems to graciously grant extreme validity to these occupations. What I never understood is why the artistic fields are looked upon as almost silly and just hobbies, but not legitimate entities. Oh I know, they are more reckless in their promise of fact only a few in the arts become rich at what they do. Many sustain themselves well (I know quite a few) and there are some that are your "starving artists" But the fact of the matter is that without these people, you would have no music, no movies, no local entertainment scene, no enjoyable shows and displays and things to see. Its all made possible by artists who find that personal level of prioritizing and dedication, in order to pursue their dreams and bring it to the table for others to enjoy. It takes hard work and dedication.
Some individuals on this 3rd rock from the sun, are meant to pursue art. Some of your greatest painters, musicians, writers, actors, directors, photographers, videographers etc, spent years upon years struggling to succeed in their forte. Not all do...some die fighting for it...but the driven ones succeed in some way. Sometimes it takes trial and error. It definitely takes time and sacrifice, and support from loved ones, without which the road is so rocky many lay down their talent and join the ranks of those willing to accept mediocre rather than pursue whats in their hearts. It is often a jagged pill for others close to an artist, to swallow. But to deny an artist his passion is wrong in my opinion. Yes it is a balance of priorities, sometimes week to week, day by day, even moment by moment. Families, regular paying jobs, things that are needed to live and are also immense parts of our lives. No one can deny the extreme significance of these things...they are so very important. All things must be taken into the equation.
Artists are most often a quirky brand of individuals...some more than others. Any study of the world's greatest and most reknowned will tell you this. Sometimes critisized, often misunderstood...artistic people are the most caring and passionate people to ever exist. Its a personal decision I suppose, or perhaps even just an ability, whether to be part of the support system...

Dedication to Syrus

Dedication to Syrus

Proud allegiant
Blue eyes sparkling
love for master
and friend...
Hugs around neck
sweet scented fur
love last time
the end...
All reduced down
8 corners 6 sides
love in this box
hello friend...
Went away massive
Came home small
Forever loved
never end...


Every Time

Every time I look at you...
Every time I touch you...
Every time I hear your voice,
your laugh,
your heartbeat through your chest under my ear,
I love you more and more...




May 6, 2014 at 5:16am

How appropriate
and utterly absurd;
Two artists meeting,
uncovering truths of soul,
and blowing off the dust
of a million evaporated tears.
In one puff,
happening suddenly...
Like turning your ankle
in a hole you did not see.
Thinking time and again,
Where has this been hiding?
Wondering how possible
or real can it be...
Something akin to a childhood fable,
A fairy tale,
A perfect seashell on an endless beach
of broken dreams.
To glide a chiseled
flawless path:
Ha ha, you knew better!
Every writer understands,
the most supreme script
has that element of darkness.
Always an evil queen
passing a poisoned apple.
And knowing who we are,
and what we are as well,
coming as no surprise.
Like the most intricate detail,
our love like a motion picture...
The one teen girls and young couples
flock to see,
and pay to see again,
and again.
Why would it not be this way,
So perfect?
But it's ridden with wounds

from bloody, broken arrows.
some painful moments
where the happy child falls
holding her bent, bleeding knee
and crying.
Where lover's think again,
Silently fear...
A bath even warm and soothing
can easily drown one.
Cast roughly atop the water
even a fish can die.
Scars can still kill
If we allow them power to strangle...
The hope lies in the storyteller...
It is we who do the writing...
Not fate, or hate,
or her...or him.
Not people or places,
Only two of us.
Pains and past can not write our story.
The epic tale of wounded hearts
cursing all
does not exist.
We are not a slave
To drama saying,
"This is too hard, too weird,
Too painful...I must go onward alone."
In the most wonderfully creative portion
of my brain, heart and soul,
I sit hunched over in the darkness of present,
feverishly penning the rest of our lives.
Because love is worth,
not only the creation of our story,
but the recording and rereading of it.
It means that much to me.
Its not just any story,
or any love...
It's ours.


Saturday, May 3, 2014


                                                                    TOGETHER NOW

Through so many storms
Wind, rain
Lightening and thunder
Like cars in a pile-up
Juxtaposed segments of my heart
Scattering...always scattering
Here to there
My soul unwinding
Ball of yarn
Spool of thread
Tangled life
How it was...
Then I found you
Always there
So close
Two people slipping past
One another
Each encased
Fog of our own
Just a glimpse
But never a thought
We didn't know
Words exchanged
Not strangers
But neither friends
Only connections
Subtle messages
Something spoke
Some voice inside
Say it
Be a fool
Take the chance being vain
Fib to yourself
if you must
Reach out
And the fog cleared away
Something happened
A feeling
Though quite impossible
My soul like a ship
To your soul a harbor
And the circle of your arms
Our kinship
How did it take so long
Yet tumble so swiftly
My heart into your hands
Yours into mine
A knowing
Ive known forever
Only not knowing when
Or why now
Seems like you've always been
Just beyond my clouds
Waiting with my sun
To warm my cold
and tired life
Until that moment
And now
I cant recall 

you not being there
How odd
To once be so alone
But never lonely
And now I only want
You in my life
Because we belong here
In this journey
Together now...


Love is Blind Faith

I think one of the most frightening things in the entire universe, 
is to allow your broken heart out of its safe haven where no one could ever touch it again, 
and expose it one last time to the caress of love; 
one of the bravest things a human being can ever do, 
is to begin removing bricks and taking down barriers that were piled repeatedly higher and higher 
with every hurt, 
every angry word and action 
and every proof given time and time again 
that love equals pain. 
To trust when someone whispers
 "I love you," 
that they are sincere.
 Love is after all, blind faith...

The Rest of my Days

I want to spend the rest of my days on this rock,
happily bouncing through stores and mundane places,
laughing and acting silly,
riding shopping carts through parking lots,
making faces
and sticking our tongues out at one another in public places, 
watching coffee pots fill in the morning, 
cooking cool things with constant interruptions for hugging, 
sitting up all night in bed
doing nothing in particular but our own stuff,
but doing it together, 
debating things with the seriousness of a world summit,
then dismissing it because its really not as interesting
as noticing every fleck of color in a Spring sunset, 
looking into each others eyes
and seeing our own souls staring back, 
holding one another close needing no words at all
when emotions are joyously high or solemnly low, 
watching you quiver with delight at your first morning sip of joe
or the passion of our touching, 
listening to the sound of your voice reading your writings
or talking about your interests, 
feeling your eyes follow me across a room
even though I cant see them, 
being completely wrapped in your arms
whether in the center of a crowd
or alone in bed skin to skin, 
hearing you call me beautiful
even when I look like hell warmed over...
I want to spend the rest of my days 
both of us whispering "I love you."


Our Sense of Conscience

The human sense of conscience should be held very sacred, as well as consciously dwelled in, cultivated and fertilized frequently with mindful exercise. 
It is healthy and good conscience which guides human beings to do right, be honest and strive for better for others and themselves. The lack of conscience causes dishonesty, disregard and the following of harmful paths.
Pain is not always a bad thing. When you are told, hear, read or are indirectly shown something, and it causes that stabbing ache in your heart because you feel guilt and know you must change something in your life...that is good pain. That is good conscience and why humans possess it. That is motivation.
Therefor...premeditated guilt beforehand is conscience...guilt afterward is shame.
The job of the human conscience is to prevent the following of bad by encouraging the doing of all things only good. The conscience is the human guide. Although it may hurt sometimes, learn to listen...



Anger is an extremely strong and complex beast. 
It is also very tangible in that although it can be hidden or denied for some length of time, its existance is not reduced. Its shape and shell are merely temporarily colored. 
It is often fueled by pain and fear, and grows layers upon itself...layers of resentment, as the beast lies in wait to be unleashed, and enjoys devouring your peace during the interim. 
The animal always shows itself eventually. It is in fact a necessity that it does. To stay buried is to allow an aggressive cancer to take harbor in your give permission for your own life to be increasingly poisoned.
Unfortunately in our society, expression of anger is frowned upon. It makes others overbearingly uncomfortable. No one likes hearing it vocalized or seeing it manifested in writing, and they certainly do not wish to see it physically exhibited. 
Yet anger is as natural an emotion as any other. And it is a major one. And it must be expressed then let go.
It is easy to judge someone else's angry feelings...even easier to judge someones expression of them. 
But every individual is first of all, very different in how they process their feelings of anger, hurt, fear and resentment. 
Most people have "knee-jerk" reactions to it instantaneous vocal backlash or impulsive physical reaction. 
But many of us strive to be strong and positive in the face of what angers us. We put it to the side in order to focus on the immediately at hand.
 It sits on our back burner...and do not be sits there bubbling. 
In the end it must come out. 
Often it exhibits in some uncharacteristic manner that has a few moments of shock value. 
Its the nature of the beast. 
AS LONG AS NO ONE IS HARMED, it remains merely the expression of intense anger. It feels different and is dealt with differently by every person. The process might appear confusing and slightly mad to onlookers. 
Even so... No one should be judged for that...

Friday, April 18, 2014


  On a mildly peculiar train of thought I've been on, I got to thinking how much I believe increasingly, that we all may have destinies. Well, perhaps not "written in stone" destinies that occur no matter how we seek to block them, but just the same, destinies, that this wonderful universe we live in, steers us toward...sometimes ever so subtly, or perhaps more aggressively. Sometimes this "track" is established early on in life as we move toward goals, but being human as we are, and notorious for interfering in our own good, sometimes it takes a "round about" route.
    I keep thinking of a skipping record for some reason, with the universe's wish for all human beings (as well as all creatures) to be happy and achieve a state of peace and satisfaction. The "skipping record" concept, I believe, is present for us all. It is evident in the way that we sometimes continue repeating the same mistakes until finally the lesson is learned. 
    This "skipping record" concept though, has become very apparent to me, in the culmination of seemingly small instances, that passed by me nearly unnoticed, but in retrospect, were clearly being shown as a path that I believe my higher power was mapping for me...trying to steer me toward. 
    When I was a little girl, I remember my dad always placing a penny or two on the cartridge that holds the needle at the end of the tone arm. It sometimes assisted in keeping the "needle" in the "groove" in order to maintain a continuem of the music. I think we need to sometimes place those pennies straighten out our thinking, our lives.
    I am entertaining these realizations at this time, because it seems somewhat surreal to me, how very much my "placement of pennies" has helped me see my road to happiness more clearly. I can "see" the "skipping" of the record now looking back. I am suddenly aware of the fact that there has been a force at work in my call it what you desire to, and so will I...none of us really knows. 
    Two years ago I was put into closer contact with someone I'd heard of, but in no way knew. Through an which was shown to me as a way to expand my horizons, have some fun, enjoy my newfound freedom. Fleeting thoughts of admiration.
    Skipping record...association with a friend of a friend...on two seperate later leading to more contact.
    Of all the people I come into contact with in this town of myriad strangers to me...why these?
    Meeting people you really don't know at all...but suddenly in the midst of things...all making sense.
    The universe is a strange thing indeed. Finding the greatest gift on earth, besides the health of my family...a "skipping record" that repeated over and over in subtle ways, until some blatent sign just had to present itself (because I am somewhat thick-headed)and I now realize that my universe has a distinct desire to make all beings happy and it did me...and we all but need to be receptive...

Tuesday, April 15, 2014


Sleepy smiles and morning kisses; 
I remember
the first time,
bringing it like a warm sweet drug,
A cup hot to touch...
A hug warm and happy...
Eyes looking at you
whispering love,
as lips say thank you
And hands reach out.
Brought not due to requirement
but due to want...
Not every morning the sun will shine.
We will get rained on.
It happens...
But no matter what any day brings,
Or how any night unravels
in good or bad;
No matter if there's ever
a quarrel,
or mistaken hurt feeling...
I will always bring that hot cup
Every morning I wake
and you're beside me...
A symbol of my love,
and of bright new mornings,
a vow...
Like old people never going to bed angry,
And never withholding "I love you"
A promise of always...


Friday, March 28, 2014

Falling in Love

Falling in love
is not about losing your footing,
tripping and landing topsy-turvy at some destination labeled as such,
where you see all there is
and forever will be and abide from then on,
in a happy place. 
Falling in love
is a process of powerless moments
when your heart makes decisions your soul stamps with approval.
It is believing each day you have fallen so completely,
only to find yourself plunging deeper all over again
with some new thought,
word or glance.
Its thinking,
"I was sure I'd fallen, but perhaps not,
because its at this moment I am TRULY falling in love!"

...and that moment keeps repeating every day...


I love you TJ Chinaski

Read to Me

Read to Me

Engrossed, amazed, honored...
Warm bread and peach tea...
Heart beating...anticipating...
Sweating glass...and palms
steady breathing,
this night be done,
But not prior to first shaping my thoughts.
He's always doing that you know.
I've been let in through the front door
Directly, not by way of the back.
Was given a pick and,
Sent forth into a gold mine.
His words an intricate pattern
"Slow down" I whisper, alone
Each thought, small phrase
Go back to reread...I must you know.
Oh yes I feel it...
I believe I perceive
Musings... I see now
Do I?
Perhaps my own way
Uniquely shared
That's how art is you know.
The purr of his voice
When first he read to me
Wonderment of a child,
drinking in words...emotions
Lulled only once this way
Passion dripping from every pore
"Will you read to me again?"
That's what love is you know...


Friday, March 21, 2014

Only in This Love...

The beautiful exchange of lovemaking between two people, so widely abused and wildly misunderstood ...looked upon as a destination... a goal to reach in which every word, action and thought along the way, is intended to move toward. An act anticipated with eagerness and once experienced almost always some degree of disappointing. It is often the same routine whether old or new love...those moments of deep sharing have their sacredness stolen because those sharing are only doing so on one plane...just one physical dimension of their being, and with perhaps only one thing in mind.
But this exchange is meant to be precious. It isn't an activity in and of itself and all about only the minutes spent involved at the height. It is designed to be a culmination...a crescendo mid symphony, where all the music combined and throughout, is equally valuable. It is meant to compliment ...not complete. After the journey of dropping walls has long begun, and two people have felt the rumble in their hearts and minds...the vibrations of one another, the trust, the realization that they have born to each other their naked souls...only then will that most delicate of sensual exchanges, be what its meant to be. It becomes a so many, many before it, only words replace with touch. It isn't shy, yet it is hesitant. Time is of essence and not spent like winnings, but rather dropped coin by coin ever so slowly, a gentle dance of love...held in one anothers palms like a trembling newly hatched bird. The windows to the souls...the eyes...are kept connected, and there is only deeper sharing of what is already known.
I believe that in this light...and only in this this precious collection of moments, capable of being what nature intended...and what two souls will never tire of or take for granted...only in this love.



Missing someone...
I didn't feel so very captive to a feeling...
but loving it just the same.
Missing someone so badly...
wanting them with me each and every moment...
schoolgirl stuff
Is it wrong to be in love?
To want someone there with their warmth
and love...
And missing as well
someone whose presence I will never feel again
but who I feel every day
all around me.
A connection I can't explain.
I so wish that two most special people in my life
could be together
to talk.
It would be then,
that heaven would be realized.