Friday, January 1, 2010
Monday, September 14, 2009
Reality
The damp night air carries
Church bells ringing in the distance
My past and present intermingle
I struggle with my luggage tagged “history”
Waiting for the next plane or train to leave
Believing I should board it
In blind faith –without a map
Yet I know,
It will leave without me
I will stay behind
Hoping
Hoping, for a just one interlude
With you…
Perhaps a stingy glass of wine
And cheese with the mold cut off
In the back of a dimly lit room
As the piano player plays the same tune
Over and over
You intrigue me
I hear your voice in the distance
And your footsteps
Along with the whistle
the last call for the train
My eyes search for you in the crowd
Yours do not seek me
I exhale long and deep
My body has betrayed me
I no longer have a clue how to seduce you
And hold you in my folds
For hours…. or days
Yes, days.
I forget I have aged
My sagging breasts
Round hips
Soft muscles
I despise them
I tell myself half-truths
And downright lies
Just two glasses of wine
And all will be perky and firm…
At least for an hour
I watch you out my window
The old man on the train
Tells me I should have stayed
Turned around
let fate play out….
Easy for him to say
He does not own hands
That long to hold a lover
Wrapped in my folds
For hours… or days
On this cold rainy night
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Your Sacred Space
“Your sacred space is where you find yourself again and again.”
~Joseph Campbell
Today, my big events are behind me.........my "accidental activist" project was recently won........... it is time for me to find my scared art space and time, even if it means clawing my way into this area of my life. I have missed it and need to recharge.
Time is precious, make it count.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
SLOW DANCE
This poem was written by a terminally ill young girl in a New York Hospital.
SLOW DANCE
Have you ever watched kids,
On a merry-go-round?
Or listened to the rain,
Slapping on the ground?
Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight?
Or gazed at the sun into the fading night?
You better slow down.
Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won't last.
Do you run through each day,
On the fly?
When you ask "How are you?"
Do you hear the reply?
When the day is done,
Do you lie in your bed,
With the next hundred chores,
Running through your head?
You'd better slow down.
Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won't last.
Ever told your child,
We'll do it tomorrow?
And in your haste,
Not see his sorrow?
Ever lost touch,
Let a good friendship die,
Cause you never had time,
To call and say,'Hi'?
You'd better slow down.
Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won't last.
When you run so fast to get somewhere,
You miss half the fun of getting there.
When you worry and hurry through your day,
It is like an unopened gift....
All thrown away.
Life is not a race.
Do take it slower.
Hear the music.
Before the song is over.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Life Coaches - GIve me a break!
Who in their right, intelligent mind, hires someone from the internet who proclaims to be a life coach?
I have known at least 10 people who market themselves as life coaches - most are either very under-employed or unemployed, but feel they can direst someone else to success and some have "taken an online class" to give themselves credibility.
Not one of them has a life I'd like to emulate. The people hiring life coaches believe what they read on the internet. I urge them to find someone in their life or community who they respect and go talk to them, read books, network with those who have the skill sets they desire. Journal. Anything but turn their life over to an online "life coach" with an inflated ego who has no measurable success and all we really know about them is what they wrote about themselves. Give me names of real people they helped, with their before and after bios, their email and phone numbers. Give me names and numbers of people who know them well and those who only know of them. Show me their employment history, marital history, etc. It makes no sense to me that anyone would let a total stranger ONLINE be a life coach. I'd rather they buy a lottery ticket.
Twitter and the internet is filled with such people.
The subject of life coaches came up in a woman's discussion group last night... and most agreed with me - those who led full-rich lives mentor by example and spend time with people they know - they don't hang out on the internet waiting for some poor soul with bad body language, cash and low self-esteem.
Yes, I'd much rather they buy a lottery ticket - perhaps they'd win enough to hire a real profession, with a qualified degree and measurable success. Or, I'd like to have swamp land to sell them, at least they'd have a deed for their money.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Perhaps it's the weather
I am once again restless.
Often I find myself
staring out the window,
fixed on the hosta breaking through damp earth.
I welcome them like long lost friends.
How long has it been since I last looked at you?
Touched you?
Realized your beauty and strength?
You tolerate winter much better
than I do these days
and wait patiently until
it is your season
I push the envelope
realize with each passing year
that time is running short
regret the years I wasted
and the days that passed
without me noticing
even the slightest beauty
or grace.
I watch the robins
frantically gathering
twigs, straw, old string
already planning
to mate and go forward
I snip bits of colored yarn
and place it in my suet feeder
for them to gather
my contribution to spring
and new life
new love
Over a cup of coffee
a friend asks
"How many more springs
do you suppose we have?"
Sigh.
Like Emily Dickinson
I dwell in the possibilities
of what each arriving spring
may bring into my life
and what I leave behind
I refuse to focus on the end
before I have exhausted today.
Posts
