My picture
Another bus journey to work,
Vivaldi in my ears.
Stretching long on the dewy ground,
reflecting the early morning peace.
A ‘D’ major moment,
of forgotten swings and daffodils
already wilting in the spring heat.
Gloria
Love Poems
Night time laughter
My drawing: a reflection of a moment….thinking of someone…..
Twisting in the wind,
rebuilding the molecules.
It should be enough.
But breezing winds and flights in turn,
slam the days down through charcoal space
and sunlight filtered clouds.
And as the night relaxes,
nothing stirs except the saddest lines.
As I listen, an image appears
of your bright body and infinite eyes
….. laughing one more time.
Me and Bob Dylan, again
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First picture: http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/bob-dylan-artwork-go-view-217297 Second picture : my drawing
Sometimes I dream of sunshine,
but not often.
Last night Bob Dylan appeared,
riding on soft marshmallow clouds…..
a contrived visual modality.
“Bob Dylan? What are you doing here” said I.
As the night unfolded….. there was a quest to write and dream.
And as the clouds left
Bob told me
“You know… this world is ours, all of ours…
but is run by people who never listen to music, anyway”
With that the dream drifted away,
like a bottle on a journey.
So empty to be.
Catching the sun
My Picture.
Bodies drawn to light
I went to catch the sun
Half open by wind
It knows my pain
It knows my hopes
Too dark for sunrise
When darkness falls
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My Pictures
A hazy moon and tired out.
My friend told me today,
she may lose her business.
Yes, not even a speck of dust.
Darkness fell,
a touch of spring crisis.
Chameleons grooming themselves,
to feast between the stones.
I told her
“Soon in the future…
is a sun rising
…. for me to visit again.”
Understanding pain
My pictures…and my students words…
I talked to the students about pain today,
it was one of those days.
My pain for you and the world,
a sweet singing and a tainted image.
What is means to be truly human.
If time was replayed
I would give more heart, your way.
And through the winters fog and mists,
slow down… breathe deeply and see the whole world… right here.
Some students gave me words,
for me a new delight.
The dark thoughts, the shame and guilt,
that swarm like bees from time- to-time
….. now traded with caution.
Then life can move forward,
never stepping back from fear.
And ghosts do not haunt me, for now.
Bricks of the heart
My Picture: Taken yesterday
Sometimes boredom strikes the mind,
the brick foundations crumble
moment-by- moment.
Even the molecule you gave me, the last time…..
makes me numb.
Then I go back to Bukowski or Dickinson,
who know about journeys of the mind.
And how to hang on
to threads of hope, to reach time and space.
Then peace descends,
I’m fine.
Spring feeling
A day in the Chinese countryside with some friends….very beautiful and mindful.
That spring feeling and trudge around,
still hunts me after all these years.
I found myself in the flowers
wishing you were here,
enjoying the cool of the evening
….. one more time.
And the thickets are for the small moments, and the first visiting Chinese
beautiful rosefinch
….. the scent is already in the air.
From those endless dry winters,
and the final parting.
A little wild cherry tree,
and the deep smell of rose blossom
….. pushes back the sadness.
And as the bush warbler sings,
I remember those days…. worn out with love and sensuous kisses
All site lost of the throbbing pain and
swollen cheeks… soon to come.
A note to myself
My Pictures.
Back in my apartment
with all the old memories,
it is difficult to sleep.
I walk towards the window
to look out onto the street.
Looking for a poem, a sign of life
….. something, anything.
Somebody told me
I would find life on the street, a rhythm.
But maybe it is too early.
I can’t watch any longer,
and I know there is silence behind me.
It was good and dark, perfect.
Sad girl
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My drawings: I met a student, crying yesterday…the others walked passed…
A Wandering Poet 