Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Celebrate Your Life! ... Dreams do come true

Photo by: John P. Ford
Nashville Skyline


Quotes from the writings of Anais Nin...

Dreams pass into the reality of action. From the actions stems the dream again; and this interdependence produces the highest form of living.

It is the function of art to renew our perception. What we are familiar with we cease to see. The writer shakes up the familiar scene, and, as if by magic, we see a new meaning in it.

There is not one big cosmic meaning for all, there is only the meaning we each give to our life, an individual meaning, an individual plot, like an individual novel, a book for each person.

The New Year is a time to celebrate life and to let go of the old and to rewrite any of our chosen scripts needing a revision. Now is one time to invite into our lives the NEW and the revised!

I believe we are stonger in connection so I am offering a small connection today. The dreams we are holding tight can be set free through our actions and our intentions. I am dreaming of a more organized environment, a revised budget I stick too and a healthier lifestyle!

I would love your thoughts and reflections on the New Year and what dreams are forming or coming together for you for 2009. What do you want to write in your Life's book?

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Merry Christmas and A NEW YEAR of Options

Photo by: John P. Ford

This poem is about a feeling of being open to experience what life
is presenting with an open heart and living in the joy of the moment yet knowing that moment changes in a heart beat. I relearn this lesson daily.

This poem was written 12 years on on March 15th. Two weeks later a heart connected love died unexpectedly at age 45.

Wishing everyone wonderful and loving holidays continuing in the New Year and beyond
on a day to day basis.


Angels and Visionaries
traveling through
my here and now
frogs of beauty
who would be Prinzes

Mama's voice in
high adoration
on the inner air waves
Daddy on a John Deere
Waterford Crystal
warm beer

Misty Air -
Solar Eclipse -
Joy on the wing
Wanting to be

Fractured prisms,
ancient wisdoms
my heart has
my head on line

Sticks and Bones
Amethyst Crystal
caught in sunlight

Beware the
Ides of March

Sound and color,
Mid-Life Crisis
Glory Hallelujah!

Going home in
a red
Ole Time Religion

sailing vessels
put to sea

Arthur & Guinevere,
Tristan and Isolde
Ralph and Alice
You and Me

Heart and Head
Out of sync,
The song unsung
Will the circle be unbroken?

A Yearning Journey
Ecstasy. Despair.

Riding on a Harley -
Sunlight in the air
Children everyone.
Love always there

Sometimes now is
all that's needed
And to breathe
For awhile

Monday, December 15, 2008

Blogger Awards and Special Thanks

I am pleased to offer a special thank you to Jiggins from and to Charli at Broken Mannequin for honoring me with the Honest Scrap Award. I value both of these bloggers and I appreciate them thinking of me! Please pay Charli and Jiggins a visit! I will be passing this on to 7 other deserving bloggers!. Thank you again Jiggins and Charli.
The rules for this award look pretty easy:

1. List 10 honest things about myself (TRUE and interesting things - not just the color of yours socks!)
2. Pass the award on to 7 bloggers

Ten Truths about Me:

1. My childhood was a contradiction in every area, but filled with love and music and also crazy unreasonable expectations.

2. As an adult I feel I have lived through a dozen lives. Sometimes I look back and think...did I really do that?...Think that? give up so much for that?... and on and on.

3. I had a dog that really belonged to my brother, Chuck, who named him Ole Pete but I pretended he was mine. I loved to dress him in bonnets and aprons. (I have no idea why.)

4. I had 13 cats growing up... even before I was in school. Any number of them slept in my room. One mother cat choose my bed to give birth to her kittens.

5. I have always been an observer. At age 3 and 4, our family lived on a farm before we moved to Ohio.. I watched my Dad drive a horse drawn skid for days while he was working. Then I jumped on ....without him.,... and did the same thing he had done. I can still remember how shocked I was to see him running behind me to catch me. I thought I knew exactly what I was doing!

6. I am dealing with some short term health issues that are scary to me because they slow me down! I am dealing with it. However, I am used to running through my life and ...I have always wanted to have it all, experience wise!

7. I had my first child when I was 16. I have three children and every year I see more I could have given them in the early years had I known what needed to be given..They say I make way too much out of that.

8. My mother said I have always been a champion of the underdog , children and animals.

9. I am in love with life and with the people in it. I started this blog because of that need to connect and the need to create. There is nothing I would rather do that meet new people AND I am always afraid for that initial moment that I will be rejected or not understood....Like everyone, I want to be loved and valued..

10. As a child, I wanted to go to live in Wyoming and be a crack shot...sort of like Annie Oakley:>)

The following bloggers are people who I hope have not received this award already but if they have they deserve two... They are also truthful and interesting writers and ones that I deeply appreciate for both their writing and the personal qualities I have come to know. I am holding one in reserve for another wonderful blogger I may not yet know!


Jesse Mendez at The Art of Jesse

Matthew at Wasteland of Words

Christina at Another Day In Paradise

Steve at Another Sober Alcoholic

Jacqueline Michelle at Or Whatever

Rhi at PeanutButterBound

Robert Talk 3 Talk 4

BUTTERFLY AWARD from Christina
This is a great week for awards! Thank you Thank you!
I received this beautiful award from Christiana at Another Day in Paradise.
I love and appreciate it AND it has all my favorite colors!. Thank you Christiana!
I would like to pass this award on to some of my favorite bloggers friends who
put time and thought and caring into creating beauty in their blogs. Thank you all for the sharing and caring!

Charli at Broken Mannequin
Rabbit at Rabbit Can Fly
Christine at the Voice of the Sea Wind
Heather at Singing With My Heart
Stu at 陶明瀚...小学
Cherie at Butterfly Dreamer

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

You Know...I wonder

Photo by: John P. Ford

Looking for love....sometimes in all the wrong places and life spaces.. can lead to a level of disappointment that is a sad commentary on the hopeful dreams held close by the seeker in the beginning of the quest..the traveler may think they are at the point of...being there.........only to realize the other occupant was not at home for them.

This is disappointment and it can be a blue period...sometimes with need for regrouping and recovery and it is enough. Two souls in transit who miss the connection they wanted. Why games beyond that? I wonder. This is a poem written about these reflections.

You know.....I wonder

Watching you ignore me
I wonder what you are gaining
I wonder what it is that you really
feel I have done

To make you think that
this is the way
it should go for mutual greeting
of two souls in transit

When to me it seems
a smile, a hello or
even a glance or perhaps
an inclination of a nod
to each other

Would seem the
kinder thing and easier
for us both
who after all have done
no evil or real directed
unkindness to each other

We have, I believe
only led our lives
walked out paths and
while in the doing of it
briefly touched and

connected and attempted
friendship and deeper caring
one human in life
to another and often
with astute observations
on both sides

It is new to me this
Non-Approach of yours for
what seems to be of
no kind purpose and
I wonder why non-kindness

When to my way of feeling
life offers unkindness enough
without working to create it
with fellow travelers all
of us in need of a lighter touch

You know...I wonder
What is this all about
Are star crossed
travelers such as we
in need of all of this...Really?

For whatever the reason
or urge for the rally
I defer to one much better at
advent and execution of
this non-directed pain than am I

Therefore, I send you a
Salute, traveler
for your consistent effort
toward whatever it is
that you feel you accomplish

The game you play seems to
be one you value so
since I value you
As I thought/think you to be

I watch you and
learn even when you
think I am not looking
even when I am wondering

Monday, December 1, 2008

Encore....Or Play It Again Sam

Photo by: John P. Ford

I have come to believe that life is a curious mixture of the magical and the mundane and the interplay between the two. When our day to day lives are steeped in the mundane we sometimes long for the mystical and the magical...a longing that can spark creativity and color our lives in rainbows and bolder patterns.... in a way that can elevate our experience to a more spiritual feeling level.... at least momentarily.....

We may dream and begin to search for a way to mentally create a wider path in living life so that we can be at least one inch above the reality where we may feel a bit stuck.

We may long to be uplifted. As spiritual beings living here in physical form on earth, we may become painfully aware of the limitations of the human form and seek to transend those limitations if only briefly.

Alternately, if our feet are too far off the grounded path, we may feel a longing for a connection to "reality". We may ask for reality checks and confront our thinking beliefs and search for answers in only what we can sense.

We will find ways to connect to nature and see our part in it. We may glorify what we can see in front of our eyes. We may begin to search for the more traveled traditional path that can offer the illusion of familiar territory.... A home base so to speak.

This poem is about the mundane and the magical and their intersections. It is about the transition from boyhood to adulthood and the gains and losses that are a part of that journey. It begs the question, is that journey ever ended or is replayed on various levels throughout life? What defines the poem? If you replaced the word boy with girl would it make a significant difference in the poem?

What is reality? Illusion? Spiritual connection? The meaning of a life lived?
I am still working of all these questions..All answers are a way of questioning.

Play it again Sam

The boy stood
at the top of the hill
Feeling he had
The matter at hand
Under his full control

Yet his half smile
revealed not the half of it
Fear Not, for he
has a heart of courage
and a mind

That at times is open
to Exploration
of the sacred cows
he has always felt

To be constant
that even now
ripple in form
in the heat
of the late afternoon

So. What is it
that the evening
will bring if not
that elusive

Peace. Contentment
and comfort
that belonging
that strikes the lost chord
of his youthful longing

The sirens song
the misty boat
of Avalon untenanted
yet powered on

The blood of passions
Red in life unshed
Unknown, Unclaimed
Laid Down unlived

How gently he
kneels to smooth
the ashes at his feet
the veils not yet parted

From the Lady of the Local Pond Series
With reflections

Saturday, November 29, 2008

Superior Scribbler Award and Uber Amazing and Kreativ Blog Awards

There are these delightful awards which circulate among bloggers as a way of giving recognition and praise. I love the idea . I see them often but I have never actually received one until yesterday. This Thanksgiving weekend I have been blessed with three! What fun! Thank you so much Jesse, Charli, and Terence!

Superior Scribbler Award, sent to me by Charli at Broken Mannequin and also by Terence at RabbitCanFly:

So here are the rules for this award:

1. Each Superior Scribbler must in turn pass The Award on to 5 most-deserving Blogger Friends.

2. Each Superior Scribbler must link to the author & the name of the blog from whom he/she has received The Award.

3. Each Superior Scribbler must display The Award on his/her blog, and link to This Post which explains The Award.

4. Each Blogger who wins The Superior Scribbler Award must visit This Post and add his/her name to the Mr. Linky List. That way, they’ll be able to keep up-to-date on everyone who receives This Prestigious Honor!

5. Each Superior Scribbler must post these rules on his/her blog.

So... Here are the bloggers' blogs to whom I bestow the gift bestowed upon me:

1. Broken Mannequin
2. Rabbit Can Fly
3. Random Thoughts on Life
4. The Voice of the Sea Wind
5. Matt's Myth

Jesse of The Art of Jesse kindly granted to me the Uber Amazing Blog award and the Kreativ Blogger Award . I am honored to accept these awards and to share them with others. Thank you Jesse! Thank you also to everyone who reads and comments! Your insights and your thoughts and the sharing is much appreciated.

My kind friend Jesse again handed out these to all bloggers. You are all welcome to please take this award and place it on your blog... :

Now for the rules for the Uber Amazing Award.

Put the logo on your blog or post.

* Nominate at least 10 blogs which show great Attitude and/or Gratitude!

* Be sure to link to your nominees within your post.

* Let them know that they have received this award by commenting on their blog.

I'll nominate:

* Broken Mannequin
* RabbitCanFly
* Butterfly Dreamer
* Moments In Phontography
* Peanut Butter Bound
* Random Thoughts on Life
* The Voice of Sea and Wind
* Today is Tomorrows Yesterday
* Talk 3 Talk 4
* Wayfarers Journey

Congratulations to you all and keep up the interesting and beautiful writing!

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Shared Poem in Comments ..Created from Snippits on the Fridge.

Miss Mary Bobo's Southern Table
Lynchburg, Tennessee
Ready for Thanksgiving Celebration
Photo by: John P. Ford

Just sharing a creative comment post from Alex.

Alex responded to the refrigerator poetry post as a true poet is likely to do....Write a poem!

I appreciate all readers and bloggers!. Thanks for taking the time to read and share your opinions and comments.

Writer On Board said:
Love it, Linda. Fun. I'll play:

morning yet they know not
I need a cup of liquid coffee
My sister...
I am over crap

Concrete poetry almost sacred translucent
Some delicious fever
From never more.....
I like question

Always woman
This heart speaks out like a child at play
A brilliant wet secret on hot magic cloud
bring men of, he too must

Make marbling
Perhaps green grass will dazzel that picture
perfume...lip is pierced...young girl I will heal you father said

Over ferocious daughter trust live laugh blush
Time to pick a flower
Open an old broken window

Change the hard blue universe

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Family, Friends & Reflections on Refrigerator Poetry


Home Reflections Photo
Photo By: John P. Ford

A couple of years ago eight folks in a group of long term friends decided to form a poetry group. We dubbed ourselves the Live Poet's Chowder Society. We have been writing poetry, reading about favorite poets and meeting monthly alternately at each other's homes. We have an evening of sharing our poetic creations as well food and companionship and whatever presents in the way of conversation!

One of the shared things from the group was a gift to me from Karen W of magnetic words to create poetry on the refrigerator. I did manage to get the magnetic strips out of the box and randomly arranged on the front of the frig. Alas, I have not done much else with them until tonight.

My children and their broods and significant others also plan a joint family event monthly, again alternating homes where the event is held. As I took a seat in front of the frig tonight with the thought of using my gift, I noticed many arranged lines where the words were no longer random! I have no idea who assembled what as no one has come forth to take credit for the short creations. I want to share them here. None is related to the other that I can determine. Do you have a favorite?


From never more.....

I like question

I need a cup of liquid coffee

My sister...
Open an old broken window
Change the hard blue universe

perfume...lip is pierced...young girl I will heal you father said

Perhaps green grass will dazzel that picture

A brilliant wet secret on hot magic cloud

This heart speaks out like a child at play

Concrete poetry almost sacred translucent morning yet they know not

Time to pick a flower

Over ferocious daughter trust live laugh blush bring men of, he too must

Make marbling

Always woman

Some delicious fever

I am over crap

Smile (this one from me)

Friday, November 14, 2008

Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break. ~ William Shakespeare

Photo By: John P. Ford

I appreciate the complexity of this photo from the photographic point of view and even more from the representational emotional point of view. The colors range from a blood orange red to misty white with mid tone grays. Color is emotional life in representation.

Red orange is the courage to go forward. Most of us will reach the need for this color quality at many points in life. Sometimes that courage is needed to just keep walking.

Visually, there seems to be a cottage type dwelling in the foreground. As the eye moves upward, more complex buildings present with the image culminating in a misty hill top structure that literally seems above it all with a feeling of mystical and magical qualities. Our lives are like that with many levels of the simple and the complex, the magical and the mundane.

Looking on the path, the water offers reflection of a kind that feels like an abstract painting. We are not sure what it is but we want to take a closer look!

Each of us is a work of art . We are like tapestries that form a beautiful complex pattern on the surface yet reveal errors of imperfections on the underside. The
errors are what make the beauty in the final pattern.

This photo is like a representation of life lived to me. We move from one spiritual dwelling or life space to another. We try to integrate the experiences into one cohesive whole. None of these buildings look as if they really belong together yet they make a lovely whole picture.

Sorrow is one aspect of life that can be devastating yet open doors to self exploration that we would have passed by if invited. Instead, we often find ourselves throw into experiences we would not choose.

No one would seek the kind of sorrow life losses or serious illness can bring. Sorrow and loss can be one path to personal integration and the resulting need for reinvention of self.

In Memoriam is a poem written after three years of grieving and living and learning to regroup after the loss of a love who was instrumental in helping me define who I was and now who I am.

In Memoriam

Approaching midnight
eve of April one
we sat in flickering candlelight
reviewing glorious old dreams and
spinning new ones
In rainbow colored threads.

Our voices high on life and promises
hearts open, fears shared
forgiveness given, energy pulsing
connecting our hearts with hope.
You spun fantasies of
What our life would be.

By December I'll be in
better shape than ever, you claimed.
In a year, I'll be hard and healthy.
I listened and I believed it.
Do it with me, you said do it all..
O.K., I agreed - - while I wished for
a tape recorder.

We danced slow
with no music.
Holding my hand
going up the stairs
one or two steps ahead of me
you turned and caught my eye.

I have always loved you
Even when you were with someone else
Even when I was with someone else
Even when I loved them too
Maybe even in another
Lifetime - you said with a smile

No one has known me
as you know me, you said.
I know - and I, you also
I shared , truthfully

Touching, holding, drifting
on the gentle waves
of your waterbed
we missed the entrance of
The April Fool Trickster.

Startled into wakefulness
I saw your eyes and
knew you were no longer there
Even though you body was

Disbelief - belief
Terror, deadly calm
Sirens, phone calls, pain
Hospital waiting rooms.
Hard to keep breathing.

Am I still breathing?
People we loved surrounded us
With an invisible inner circle
of those I have loved and lost.
Why am I still breathing?

A thousand times
in my imagination
I have died with you
the death you died but once.

Today I am alive
In love with life
Breathing, full of plans
time filled with
what I want and love.

Yet even now or
Tomorrow, tonight,
next year, this afternoon
the trickster's shadow
will cross my path as
I reach one thousand and one

Sunday, November 9, 2008

Illusions ....Poem and Understanding of Life...... in Process

As children we know that reality takes place on more than one level. We intuitively know that outer reality and inner reality need to be in harmony. We know that each has validity. If we are blessed as children we are allowed to live this freedom for harmony that we were born to experience.

As adults we may forget this magic knowing. Many of us spend our lives in reinvention of the wounded inner self while we work at redefining what is really important or truly meaningful.

This is a poem written some time ago as a part of a series during one of those personal periods of emotional internal sorting and healing while struggling to redefine what is real and what is illusion in the external world.

This kind of experience and sense of loss can feel consuming. It can become a lonely journey that no one travels with you. It is hard to see fellow travelers even when they may be standing with you and holding your hand.

This poem is a reminder to me of how powerful our thoughts can be and how deeply they can influence our experience.

Illusions...A Poem

Crumpled paper moons
Faded neon crayon promises
Mine and theirs

Walking through
Shattered shards of
Priceless Crystal barefoot

Up splintered stairs
With no rails....
Mindful of slipping

In my own blood
Toward a stream
of Faint Light

The real danger... always
Believing I travel
Anyway except alone

Monday, November 3, 2008

Twas the Night Before the Final Vote

When all through the house
mine and theirs
my favorite blogger
creatures were stirring
and I had my hand on the mouse.

Now Alex, Now John, Now Marcus
Covered it all
From predictions of outcome
To predictions of downfall

Music, Poetry and current events
Magic outlined by Charli
Favorite dreamer and life
and all of our laments

Religious experiences
From Rabbit and
Lovely word games from Jean
and I missing the historical perspective
and wondering about Christine.

Whatever your choice
Whatever your vote
You are ALL bloggers of note!

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

That Beauty That is Terror

This poem was written awhile ago after losing someone I loved deeply and had been involved with at two extended time points in my life spanning fifteen years.
He was 45 at the time of his death which was not expected. Never had I felt as KNOWN as in this relationship. The ebb and flow of the connection was a given. After his death, I waited three years to even consider meeting someone else and then met someone immediately. I felt passionately and intensely about this new love but I had not yet been able to fully let go of the other relationship. This poem is about the new love that I met. Loving two people in this way, one of whom was not in this world, felt like an emotional tail spin.

I find I can still recapture all the feelings, the connection, and the disconnect and the struggle to stay in this new relationship, because I wanted to do so, while still not having said a total goodbye to someone that I felt to be a forever soul connection. At the same time, there was the feeling always that
my new love would disappear (i.e. die)

That Beauty That is Terror

Loving you
Without benefit of words
or without your presence
Can be as one of Rilke's Angels

That beauty that
Is terror
To this part-time
Little girl in a grown up world

Cursed and blessed with
Seeing potentials and feelings
She navigates by default a
Ship on a tilt alone
Toward unknown shores

While away from you
As Captain you seem
Otherwise occupied
Cerebral, distracted

Perhaps through
No fault of
Your own and
Perhaps as her illusion
Charting your own course

Leaving to the girl-child
The here and now
Day by day journey
Giving her few coordinates

Yet you remain
Ever the diplomat
Benovelence implied
Consolation given

Coming to you
Is like entering a
Haven from navigating
A respite
An oasis of connection

Moving within three feet of
Your skin and
Your touch
Is like moving
Through a mine field of

Chemistry and involuntary responses
A yearning energy of
Physical longing and wanting
Needing urgently, immediately
Yet never wanting the need to end

Being with you
In the biblical sense is
Fire in a desert, phoenix rising
Spiritual, passionate, consuming
Ultimate dirty dancing

Speeping with you is
Safety at a primal level
For a sensitive soul
Touching knowing without barrier

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Rilke says the answer is in the journey

I have learned over the years to refine my to do list to the point of including a ...breathe, Linda... note as a bit of a joke for myself. Before I was self employed, I traveled in a thirteen county area working as a consultant with a Mental Health Center. I made my car my office. As you can imagine this made for a pretty full back seat and trunk. I was a definite believer of the boy scout motto.

Traveling with me to lunch one day, My boss asked what I had in the back seat. It is just a film strip projector I shared.. He sighed with relief at my answer. Thank God , he replied, I was afraid it was a copier and you had figured out some way to plug into the cigarette lighter to make copies by the mile! I guess I was taking the concept of multitasking to a new level.

I have come to believe that multitasking is an illusion. The brain really can only attend to one thing at a time even if it is in overdrive. Being busy or too busy is a state of mind not an activity.

I expect I had learned somewhere in life to believe that we must be in demand to be creative and engaged? Maybe it seemed to me as if I had to be crazy busy to just make an impact or to justify that I was doing enough? I no longer believe that it is necessary or a good thing to be crazy busy.

I want to be the one who lives for the journey. I know it is my feelings and my thoughts that can make me feel crazy busy not the tasks. Of course I can get overwhelmed but I don't want to stay in that space any longer that it takes me to walk to my mental interior mirror and turn around with a new intention. I can let go of activities if I need to. I can change my circumstances. I can alter a lifestyle. My intention is to lead the most serene and lovely life possible with the one I have RIGHT NOW.

So toward that aim of serenity today, I walked through my office and lit the fall candles. I rearranged my favorite stuffed animals that have their imaginary lives there. They are of every personality and persuasion you can imagine and I like it that way. We are not a typical office I guess. We have it all I think. A gorilla who sings Wild Thing, A huge rabbit in a lovely cotton easter frock and even a popular Fred Flintstone .

I paused in the reception area to view the creative art made by children and adult clients and given to me over the years. I love just feeling those connections again in the moment. I have such a unique art collection. It makes me smile. I remember how blessed I am to be given the opportunity to do something I truly love doing. My intention is to express as much of the gratitude I feel as I can and to slow myself down in there here and now to fully experience what is offered in my life.

As my blogger friend Alex quoted today: Rilke says the answer is in the journey. So why the rush? I try to slow myself down all the time. Sometimes it works. I second that Alex.

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Not a Cough in a Carload: Images from the Tobacco Industry to hide the hazards of smoking

Stanford School of Medicine

Lane Medical Library & Knowledge Management Center

In support of patient care, education, and research, the mission of the Stanford's Lane Medical Library & Knowledge Management Center is to create opportunities for discovery, translation, and collaboration by providing people with easy, efficient access to in-context knowledge and learning whenever and wherever it is needed.

As part of the library's year-long centennial celebration, Lane hosted the Not a Cough in a Carload exhibit in the library's physical space from February through September 2007. In order to extend access to a broader audience and provide expandable digital display space for the Jacklers' extensive collection of tobacco advertising images, Lane developed this web-based interface. Questions and feedback about this online exhibit can be sent to

Dedicated to Marilyn E. Jackler who started smoking as a young woman because it was
"the sophisticated thing to do" and later was unable to quit.

Died of lung cancer June, 2007.

Prayer of St Francis - Sara McLaughlin

Monday, October 6, 2008

Old Boyfriends Just Fade Away...Girlfriends Are Forever

I have loved dancing always. I can be dancing and never move. I dance in my inner self if less of late in reality. I considered a degree in physical education, because of the dance options, equally with my final decision of psychology. I love what I do and the decision I made may have been a toss up. Although psychology is a lifelong love for me, I am truly one of those people who would rather be dancing than many other things.

I spent a lot of time playing hostess and social butterfly to large gatherings of diverse friends, with wine and dance on the menu, in the past. I still do this at times but the gatherings are smaller and more likely to include poetry from our Live Poet's Chowder Society! I first met Karen when my ex beau brought her to one of those fondly remembered parties at my home. Since he had never brought any of his current flames to my place, I knew this one might be serious.

He and I had spent three plus years in an up and down roller coaster relationship with both of us exploring our single independent status and alternately aiming to be together...sort of. I can truthfully say there were few dull moments. Time was spent ,with me at least, trying to decide where our relationship was headed when I met someone that helped me know definitely that the direction was not going to be long term.

Karen and he were together dating a year. They were married just a tad less than one year. I found out about their split when I was arranging a get together for their first year anniversary celebration. I received a call from her new husband telling me it looked as if I needed to hold off on sending out the invitations. I knew he was not committed to marriage in general but I had hoped it would take in the specific with Karen. In the short time I had known Karen I had come to admire and love her.. It was apparent that he adored her. Alas, even adoration is not always enough without the determination to stay married that needs to go with it.

I talk to him on occasion now via the internet and I can see how much he has grown. I am glad to have known him then and now. He is a fine and talented man. I find I can remember why I appreciated so much who he was then. He still has those qualities.

Karen and I worked through their divorce as the closest of friends. It was a dark and painful time and it passed. I find it amazing to realize that next week she is celebrating a 22nd anniversary with her husband Hal. Hal is solid and will be there for Karen for the duration. He is a forever friend to me..

Karen and I used to laugh and say we would all have to combine the time we had spent married between us all to come up with a group 50th wedding anniversary. She may make it closer to the 50th. You know, I have come to learn that life is not a ball game. It is not one, two,three strikes you are out. Relationships are tough to maintain and they can be fragile while appearing tough as steel.

Karen has seen me through a divorce and all that entails for a close lifetime friend. Karen has steadfastly seen me through the dark days of my life including death of my daughter-in-law Gay, the death of my sister Rose Marie three years later at age 40 due to incurable Lukemia, the death of my mother six months after that of my sister Rose and the loss of a love I thought a soul mate in another 10 years.

The truth is that while old boyfriends can give you a catch in breath, a hot feeling in the pit of your stomach and a nostalgia of the heart they do fade away if with sweet and warm fuzzy memory . Girl Friends are forever and that can make all the difference. Thanks for being my friend Karen.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

May I present two bloggers of note

Light-Paint Piano Player from Ryan Cashman on Vimeo.

Blogging Along in Nashville

I am blogging along here in Nashville. I have to confess. I never thought this would be an ongoing activity for me. It is amazing what a little unstructured time can do! I hope it is not going to be one of those idle mind devil's workshop kind of thing.

Thanks to Rhiannon, my computer whiz , I am also learning a little about the technical side of blogging and she is picking up the slack until I learn more. Rhiannon is a full time second year college student in music . She is incredibly talented, energetic and brilliant. Other than that Rhi is a pretty normal 18 year old. We blog along together through email and telephone calls.

My eldest angel , Naomi is working to complete her degree at MTSU, running the business end of my counseling practice , running her own business, Sugar and Spice, and maintaining a home and husband in a country farm house. Naomi has also helped with the technical side of the blog when I was beginning and totally at a loss about how to proceed. Check out Naomi's wedding photos to the right of this post

I have been writing and rewriting poetry for years. I have always been a believer in self expression. My nephew, Marcus Banks, tells me blogging is an act of shameless self promotion. Hey, I find I can be ok about that if a little fun is involved.

Marcus, is an excellent, seasoned, serious, committed and fun blogger. You can find Marcus at the following link. I have adored Marcus since I first connected with his gaze shortly after my youngest sister, Jerri, brought him home from the hospital.

Here is one aspect of Marcus. Check his blog out.
I also learned more about excellent blogging over the past year through the posts of John W. Evans, John was a Northwestern student at the time Marcus attended. I first learned of John in June of 2007 at the time of the loss of his wife Katie. John is a poet, a writer, and an incredible creative survivor.

Currently, John is a Wallace Stegner Fellow in Poetry at Stanford University. From the first time I heard John's name, I felt some psychic connection. This is not something I have burdened John with or that I have analyzed much ( yes, once or twice I admit) or that either John or I requested from the universe at large.. In fact, we have never met. Please check out the link to the KMF.

John's blog can be found at

Finally, please check out John P. Ford's photo site. John is the source of the excellent photos I borrow from his site to spruce up my blog. John has spent the past 8 years refining his photography skills and knowledge. John is the eternal scholar and his ability to learn new things is pretty awe inspiring as the quality of his photos demonstrate.
Here is John's pbase site.

Friday, September 26, 2008

The Kitchen Sink

While looking at this photo John made of my artful kitchen sink arrangement a couple of years ago, it occurs to me that the blog I am unfolding here is a kindred spirit to that photo. You may not know exactly what will show up in the final analysis although the original intention was for it to be a collected work of my poetry over the years. You will, even now, find poetry among the collage of miscellaneous posts.

I don't remember ever being able to resist, arranging, rearranging and then dismantling and arranging again.....almost anything, I apply this principal of need to redo and reorganize to almost anything from drawer and closet spaces this case...the kitchen sink.

As a child, I remember doing this arranging activity with rocks. marbles, crayons and spools from thread and buttons from Aunt Rose's sewing. Yes, I confess to a dead bug or two. I even dug tiny plots of land in our yard and infused them with bits of interesting things. Only ,of course ,to dig again and re do after reflection on potential..

Annoyingly, I suspect, I went through many church services surreptitiously arranging song books, church bulletins, and anything else that presented itself to my wondering eye. I remember especially liking the upside down ones.

Often that wondering eye was looking up...from underneath a church pew. I remember finding traveling under the pews way more adventurous than the assignment of sitting still on the wooden church pews. I saw each pew as a leg of the journey.

It was often a study in shoes and how guessed it...rearrange them and work around them. My mother , who tried her best to ignore me, offered way more understanding than I actually deserved. I have come to believe an arranger cannot really be helped in the long run.. Mom must have reached that conclusion early on.

Although, I was not able to reach the church ceiling, in my mind I re did the small seemingly far away tiles in a multitude of new patterns. I painted them in my head and even made some three dimensional and off center. I guess all of this could account a bit for me not easily remembering a great deal of all the many spiritual lessons and learning's I was exposed to in church often daily.. Please... hold my mother blameless.

Photographer: John P. Ford

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

We are promised nothing and build everything from that

"Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

Dylan Thomas

Looking at those old faded photos of Gay with Naomi celebrating her first birthday in January of 1983...her only one with her Mother and her Dad and family......I can be transported there now and remember the smells and sounds of that small celebration.... Like stepping into that Video we wished we had taken. Gay had eleven months after that. We are promised nothing. We can take nothing for granted.... except that this too shall pass.

In Memoriam

Gay Ramsay Pruitt
May 17, 1960.........December 30, 1983

Poem in process

Saturday, September 20, 2008

Many multi-links to the sacred

I am coming to see the sacred as an embedded figure...It is absolutely everywhere.
Have a sacred, creative, spooky, cinnamon candle evening and/or consider welcome to any sacred you can see and open the doors to for entry.

I believe in all that has never yet been spoken

I believe in all that has never yet been spoken.
I want to free what waits within me
so that what no one has dared to wish for

may for once spring clear
without my contriving.

If this is arrogant, God, forgive me,
but this is what I need to say.
May what I do flow from me like a river,
no forcing and no holding back,
the way it is with children.

Then in these swelling and ebbing currents,
these deepening tides moving out, returning,
I will sing you as no one ever has,

streaming through widening channels
into the open sea.

-- from Rilke's Book of Hours: Love Poems to God, by Rainer Maria Rilke / Translated by Joanna Macy

Friday, September 19, 2008

The Dozen Cousins and Taps on Table Tops.

Uncle Ross
sang bass
And Uncle Raymond
took lead

Uncle Bob Was a sweet tenor
and sopranoes and altos
were everywhere.
I wanted to be both

Aunt Nan
And Aunt Eunice
sang those golden bells
and Aunt Marie said
Lets try that one
one more time.

If we wanted to sing
We had to behave
We could not fight and
Yes she saw us

How did we feel
about being called
The Dozen Cousins?

Mama said to remember
we would be in the Lord's house
See if you can do better than the boys
she would whisper

She was afraid they would throw
us out of the church
if we were not sweet
So we learned to be sweet
with a mean beat

Once when we stayed awake
after the real musicians
went to bed
we danced too much
in the yard

Uncle Raymond caught us
and made us get up at 5:00 am
Did you know
It is not even
light at 5:00 am

We played taps
on the table top with
the old loose knife
from the drawer

We had to
fight to get it
And not let
Aunt Margaret catch us
Cause she said
we had to share

Donny rang bells
with half filled
water goblets
except the one
he threw the
snake in.
You could barely see it
Donny said.

Sonny played
drums with thumbs
and knuckles
on chair legs

We could all hum
a mean comb
and play
crooner sounds
with hand jive.

We loved to
do the twist!
Norman taught us all
Norm won the prize
for doing the splits

Though he lost his seams
down the back
the night he won the 100 dollars
He never missed a beat.

Saturday, September 13, 2008

Invasion of the Body Snatchers

I confess that I normally see my self as a basically sane person of warmth, caring and empathetic development with a touch of humor and perhaps a bit of elevated self-esteem. Today, I am relatively sure that I have been invaded by the body snatchers and that my invader is the Wicked Witch of the West or a close relative in kind with some sort of irritable, genetic affliction that cannot easily be contained. I have been able to refrain from demanding that the air not blow over my body. Trust me when I say that today that is no small achievement.

What I am reminded of in this process is that I simply do not do the sick thing well and even minor surgical procedures more poorly. I am making a note to myself now. NO MORE SURGERY. I am thinking of a tatoo with with those words and a rosebud, or better yet a small elephant, least I forget.

What do you think? I marvel at those people who seem to transend physical discomfort, loss of energy and various gross or painful symptoms all in the name of prevailing modern medicine and through assurance of recovery. I tend to come out fighting, perhaps a bit like Don Quixote and his rather demented dance with the windmill. I think there may be much to be said for chants, and incense. I am not sure if this created a cure but the sounds and smells would have been inviting.

I definitely do not find it to be better living through Chemistry. I am convinced that I have lost at least 50% of my short term memory since taking even a few pain pills..... with no assurance that it is likely to return in the forseeable future. Say a slient prayer now please for me. Some recovering people should not be left alone. Thank goodness, I am assurred by all who witness that this is not serious and that I will soon be up running around normally. HMMMM It is a toss up. Is the pain worse or are the loss of memory and sense of self...I do still remember my name....the more difficult?

The answer to this ongoing mental self evaluation changes least every 2 to 3 hours. It sort of sneaks up on you as you struggle to respond to what you have every reason to think is a perfectly reasonable question from a family member but what appears visually to be coming out of the asker's mouth looks like colorful falling children's building blocks.

I keep telling myself....mantra 15 years this will surely not matter....
I cling to the one consolation...I think...the laproscopic scars are covered with heart shaped bandages.

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

A New Beginning-Always in Process-Sacred spaces of the Heart

I find myself totally enjoying John's photograph of the All Saint's Chapel again today. His photographic creations often offer the kind of beauty that speaks to me on emotional and spiritual levels.

I love the light, the colors, the stained glass and, yes Ezekial , the sense of openness, space and peace in this photograph. Looking at it can give me new access to memories from past visits to All Saints Chapel over a 20 year time period.

Finally, daydeaming about my personal and professional history in the Franklin County,Winchester, Sewanee Area is like sharing a warm cup of cinnamon cider with a life friend in just the recalling of those times. Ah....warm memories against a chilly day or a cold night.

As I child, the first creative writing I completed, at age six, was a Christmas poem about the Journey of Mary and Joseph for our local church bulletin! I remember feeling published! I thought I was making a new start in my life. Today, I feel much the same about new starts. They are journeys. This one is a journey of the heart.

I have always had a fascination with churches, small chapels and cathedrals, and I often seek out unusual ones when traveling. There are photos I want to relocate from sacred spaces in Ohio, Florida , Virginia , Ireland and Arizona in particular.

Any bloggers who have a photo of a well loved church or sacred place are invited to share it.. I would love to increase this small collection of sacred spaces.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Saturday, July 12, 2008

Strangest Dream...Afterthoughts and Reflection

I had just gotten in from work on the evening of July 2nd when I wrote this post...via a Cracker Barrell Stop I could have passed on. I am sharing it as an exercise in intuitive thinking and as an invitation for comments and thoughts or impressions. Dream interpretation can be one of my favorite activities. I am a dreamer both waking and in the sleeping sense. I am often preoccupied with dream thoughts when dreams occur. I am a dreamer that leaves a notebook and a pencil by bedside to hopefully not lose impressions for night dreaming.

Early Notes-July 1st and 2nd,2008

I had the strangest dream last night that I have been trying to sort through today. It is and has been continually on my mind throughout the early morning and so I am hoping for perspective through writing about it. I cannot find the usual connections that I am able to spot pretty quickly in my dreams. When I am able to do this it is the connection that makes the message in the dream meaningful to me. I am into knowing what my dreams are about for me. It has had me taking deep breaths all day! To tell the truth I was reluctant to go to bed without writing this one out! THANKS for listening!

I have tried to think...was there anything significant about yesterday,July 1st, that I am connecting with on an emotional/subconscious level? I am unable to determine what it is if that is the case. I do not know of any significance for me about the July 1st date. It is no anniversary of any event I am able to identify.

I am wondering if there is a pattern in these fragments that I am missing or not yet able to see? Keeping in mind of course that dreams like this do not always make obvious sense. Here is the gist of it as follows. I am writing it out here to check out any thoughts or reactions or connections to anything that you may see... but also to help myself clarify any message for me or that I might need to have. You may know how I am about these intuitive messages. I believe this dream is an intuitive message.

Here is what I can remember after a long and eventful day at work following a restless actually frightening night.. The scenes have been playing throughout my head and throughout my client's therapy sessions and they have been a distraction today.

The Dream
I am driving somewhere, in unfamiliar terrain, in a very strong almost protective car. I did not know where I was yet I was driving easily, if slowly,and following a path with no real difficulty. The car feels like my black Volvo but a slightly stronger.. .almost armored car version of the Volvo. Yet, everything does not fit with the visual I get of SAFE CAR. I am not sure what the make of the car is in the dream... just that it felt as if it should be incredibly safe . Should seems to be the operative word in the dream.

There is an almost ominous feeling about the drive that makes me restless even in the dream. I am not sure why I am making this trip. I am certain it is necessary that I make it despite no information about its purpose or my destination. In the dream, I am having silent conversations with myself. I can feel increasing concern but can find no reason for it in my dream thinking.

It is like I am on a hyper alert. . . I keep... casually I think... looking out the windows but it is raining heavily and I am not able to see clearly. I check and recheck the door locks, front and back, to be sure that everything is in place and again safely locked. At one point, I have to lean over to my passenger to do the door checks.The windshield wipers seem to be not functioning optimally and it sounds as if they are making a bit of a whining noise that I do not like yet as I glance at them they are working. In short, I keep getting the message that everything is not as it seems.

I am with a very tall, possibly somewhat big boned,young man ...who reminded me a bit of a younger cousin Albert yet I am aware it is not Albert. I am not sure I even know this young man I am thinking to myself in the dream. His features are not clear to me. The more I think on it in the dream I am sure I do not know with whom I am traveling. Yet it is apparent we are traveling together and that therefore I believe we should know each other. The tone between us seems casual and comfortable and almost a bit upbeat yet I clearly know that I do not know him. He acts as if he knows me. I seem to be the one out of sync here. I keep thinking silly things like I don't think I really know anyone this tall and with this BIG feeling. At times, he reminds me of my brother Ed yet I know clearly it is not Ed. I just keep proceeding forward. I am driving.

Casually , my companion suggests we get out and look where we are. I think this is ill advised but pretend to him it is fine. The rain is lifting and I think at least we may see a bit more clearly now. We leave the car running but step out and walk around the immediate area. I have left the driver's door ajar I notice. I am now on the passenger side of the car and he is behind the car. I want to tell him to stay closer but know that would be inappropriate and in the dream I am again wondering why I am feeling this way.. I can literally feel the mist on my face and smell the rain. This is BEING THERE in a very real sense.

As I look around I see we are on a road a bit higher than the ground to the left so that we are looking down into a lightly wire fenced area that resembles nothing I can describe as much as a rice paddy! I think to myself... In the dream, I think where are the rice paddys of the world?? Where in the world are we?? I can see a good distance off so I just watch. I do not stray far from the passenger door and I again find myself checking to be certain that both back doors are locked while telling myself in my head I am being a bit obsessive.. My unknown friend is chatting walking and making what I think are astute observational comments that I am paying little attention to as I am concerned about something in the far distance that appears to be running toward us.

Almost instantly I am able to make out that a bear is focused on us and running towards us. What appeared to be a tiny distant creature is fast gaining ground and he is not little. We are definitely its destination. I am instantly in the car ( no mean feat with this knee injury) and I have the passenger door locked and I am saying ..get in the car,...get in the car...get in the car... and my companion is coming in what feels like slow motion....walking through water speed...Finally he is in the car but unable to move quickly to secure the lock . He legs are spread out and his arms hang loosely at his sides.

I literally climb over him and secure the lock with virtually no seconds to spare...Seeing also is he is not able to drive, I manage to get my foot on the gas pedal, by the hardest....he is a long tall big man taking up much of the leg room. and we slowly inch forward and then faster to avoid the beast....and his now fast approaching family in the distance. I am telling myself mantra like ...move forward....move forward faster... faster....and I do. I glance to see a full tank of gas on the register...thank God in this case... and I wake up absolutely terrified and taking gulping deep breathes not sure at first if I am here in my bed or there...wherever that was. I am in a cold sweat and cannot....literally move for several moments for the pounding of my heart.

That's it.

Sunday, June 15, 2008

Fragmented Attention and Distraction Addiction,Boundaries & Personal growth. Response to Marcus


What an absolutely on target, fully conscious article.
Thank you for making these points and for doing it with such clarity and in a meaningful frame of reference. Your article has sent me on a journey of thoughts of assessment for the fragmented attention process. I could have shared about 95% of points and thoughts in your article at one time or another in the past few years and increasingly so in the past two years.. What a true reminder you have given of the need to set our own boundaries.

I have been thinking along those personal boundary setting lines and how to make it happen in the way I need consistently. At this point in our distraction addiction, for many of us it could be a challenge to actually identify and define the inconsequential and the meaningful on a moment to moment basis.

It feels as if our actions can become a purposeless driven life! I find myself responding to silly or mildly novel and ultimately useless material just because it appears in front of my face at the click of a mouse. My delayed response after realizing what I am doing, yet again, is SCREAM!

On reading, and rereading, your article I am reminded of how years ago in graduate school we were told by the geek gurus how technology would enrich our lives. It was predicted that we would come to have much more free time for personal growth. I can still remember the informal debates about this in the early 70's with fellow graduate students . I admit to being quite skeptical at that point. Remember, I was the book person and I honestly could not see the need for computers at all. To me it all sounded a bit like magical thinking, I find magical thinking entertaining but rarely effective in problem solving or time management.

We all fantasized that the technology explosion....we were clueless about what that really would mean then.... would allow us all more time for creativity, self-expression and emotional/social connection.
We saw it as freeing us from the mundane and some of the daily grind. We believed it would mean more personal time for us! What we did not know or anticipate was what this increased technological support/structure/option would do to the quality of these creative and expressive aspects of our lives. I have come to believe that there really is a ultimate level for best focus and concentration and adding more input that beyond that perk point means quality is sacrificed for quantity or worse, meaningless repetition.

Have you noticed? Everything is becoming a short cut.To what end I am asking myself daily. Send a IM and it is no longer I love you but I Heart U. Laugh out loud is a simulated L0L .Please! Dining out is an experience in noise and over stimulation unless the diner does a research project of the restaurant before the experience. The quiet ones are hard to find. I am so OVER having to listen to someone else's selections of music while dining and overly loud conversation and overly exhausted children. I can be happier having a cheese sandwich at home in blessed silence. Courtesy and conversation in the store front is replaced with people with cell phones glued to their ears and non interaction. Yes I am guilty.

Just last night my friend, Marge , and I were reviewing the crazy busy and over stimulated life we see daily....some ours and some observations of others. We even talked of the foreshadowing of the possibility of books becoming non existent at some future point. Since Marge and I are dedicated book worms this is of no small concern for us. We talked of how a thank you note is almost a lost art. E cards are the thing. While they are fun and I enjoy them, there is almost a sacred quality to receiving a hand addressed card in the mail. The fact that someone has taken the time to send a written letter or a card that they also took the time to purchase and post in regular mail is note worthy. Pun intended. . With stamps being 42 cents this gesture counts on many levels.

Marge and I were reflecting on how it is now possible to drive on familiar streets in our town and quickly become lost on some of those streets because of rapid....seemingly overnight...change and growth, and even redirection of regular routes with minimal information. It is almost disorienting and can feel as if...did this prior place ever exist?

While I realize it is not necessary to have a route historical preservation....surely some continuity of identification and redirection for awhile during rapid changes could serve some psychological purposes. These is some value in knowing where you have been as well as where you are going....both literally and figuratively.

To Marge and I, and I believe to others, this is just one more physical manifestation of that which we all may be concerned in the fast lane..... on roller skates in heavy traffic with no time to really experience...much less savor... those things that truly are the moments of our lives.

I love living in the moment but I am weary beyond belief of the feeling of running through the moment to the point that the end of the day it can feel like....What happened today? Where was the meaning in it for me? Where have we been? Where are we going? Yes boundaries....and assessment and time to breathe and know where we are going. What is important? What is the hurry? I promise to myself to participate less in running through life.

Well Marcus, I wrote this email because I was uncertain of how to enter into the post a comment process on your blog and I did not want to take a mini course to find out how to do it!. Since this has become such a long
reflection perhaps it is just as well that I did not pursue the technological path today.....Yet I note that I am reflecting about your article on a relatively new and fast computer with several bells and whistles and that I can preserve it on my blog with little effort.

Love and thanks for the distraction from the mundane!

Aunt Linda

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Pictures of Naomi

Naomi's First Birthday

Naomi's First Dance

Naomi's Wedding

Saturday, May 10, 2008

Local Live Poet's Chowder Society February 08 Love Poem

Let's Talk or Not

You are better at it than I am
Letting anger wonder around
until it cannot be easily found.
Letting time fill the spaces.

Letting the silence be heard.
Talking about tree colors,
techniques, and trivialities.
Saying things like
don't let those words
come out of your mouth

I expect that lack
of comfort in not
resolving with words
even those that may bring blood
for me comes in part
from an overly screamed youth
where conflict and creative survival
was the name of the game.

Sadly then maybe love
was conflict and
could not be easily felt
if not screamed or shouted.
Perhaps complete with
Threats and Ultimatums
If with a certain clear code
of what could never be said.

There was a certain
comfort in that predictability
of knowing eventually,
usually sooner than later,
there would be conflict.
So certain it was that
little time was there
for letting the silence be heard.

Hot words and lines drawn
strangely letting everyone
know they were loved
or at least in the playing field.
Watching my family even today
it is still hard to risk being silent.

We often stand at opposite
ends of this verbal playing field
You and I
You keep your own counsel
work out the scenerios

Creating you own reality show
in your head
You present your case
call in the jury
and set the sentence

Never showing an alteration
in tone or voice or
deviation from calm
your words not necessarily related
to the show in process.
All smoke and mirrors.
A certain artistic presentation.

I, in turn, can be in
Warrior Princess Mode
with you in a heart beat.
Weapons at hand and
ready to defend the terriroty
that feels at risk.

Turn around
you reach out or touch me
I forget what the war is about.
Sometimes silence can
fill the space for awhile
with no life threatening consequence.
So lets talk or not at times
Knowing love is there.

LSS February 9,2008

Friday, May 9, 2008


Sack cloth
Ashes and Leomonade
Lost chances,
lost romances and
making the best of it.
Whatever it is

Not at all what I thought
it would be all about
in the Golden Years.
Yet here it is....
Struggling to keep walking

While refrains of the spirit of
Carpe Diem
thought lost or elusive
still remain
too close for comfort
clouding the horizon

Not without fear to
the heart of even
this optimist born,
Dancing through Moulin Rouge
could be a mistep
considering all

While throwing in the towel
wishing to be 15
still in the middle of
the joy of everything is
yet to come... to she who waits.

Little comfort is gained
from dreams of
an eternal playmate
at your side
In anticipation of
soulmate sharing ,sustance found

You know the one?
Mary Jane and sniffles
Poor poof piffles
Make me just as small as sniffles
and off to adventure land
by the shear will of it

Entering into the storybook world
by magic incantation
fearless of even
fire breathing dragons,
exaulted in that perfect playmate

Always able to return
home comforted
Full of places visited,
kingdoms won.
Knowing knights are knighted and
order restored to whatever

That time when
summer seemed eternal and
winter just a blip on the
universe of all
things lie ahead of us still.

Lost in the universe of
what might have been
too many could haves
like oil and water
won't be an easy mix with
looking at what is

Even while rewriting the
script for one more act,
incorporating the
stage at hand,
knowing tarnished troubadours

Sack cloth, ashes and
lost maps to Treasure Island
may be the crux of it,
What might have beens are
hard to lay down.

Lss May 5, 2004


and All That Jazz
How I loved you
while you stood
horn in hand

Yourself draped
on the threshold of
a dream house
split level stairs
looking only at me

Something too grand and glorious
even to be put to music
Shining and Becoming
the Me I saw
reflected in your eyes

Razzle Dazzle
tap dance shoes
Silver Sparkles, Chrome toes
Clunky high heels
anything goes

Step to the left and
shuffle to the right
smile just right
checking it out
I don't think so

Long ago, presenting
short black lace gown
& baby doll panties
draped casually over an arm
Prentending to be fearless

Are you going to wear that?
You said.........
Understated as always
seeming incredulous
Smiling knowingly you

No...I don't think so
I thought to myself.
Tonight remembering
I wonder
Where did I ever put that outfit?

Here I am
There I was
Standing in that window light
Where talk is of placing photo
subjects to be less uptight

Black and white balance
Learning a lot, learning a lot.
Notice the detail!
The hours, the hours
Hello. Hello.

Heel Toe, Heel Toe
Whirling, twirling
Dervish like turning
catching the light
Did you notice?
Probably not...

Somethings it seems
one just expects
to be there
What need to look
Is something gone you ask?

Who were those guys in
the forties and fifties
who played those arch top
Epitone Guitars
broadway movie score style

That they seemed to
look and see
What was there
in front of their faces
Here and now
with or without light

Razzle Dazzle
tap dance shoes
They never die
Like old indians
they just fade away

I am, you are, the music played
Good night Jimmy D
Where ever you are
Heel toe Heel toe

Lss May 23, 2003