Friday, February 28, 2014

Broken Things

There used to be a repair shop
next to the bridge.
Out back lay piles of stuff,
rusted, bent, broken
but maybe useful - for parts.

It’s gone now.
In its place
is a lovely little café with
outdoor seating
and a view of the river.

And today we throw away
all our broken things.


For G-man's FF55
I grew up in a little town next to the little town of Cedarburg, Wisconsin where my grandparents lived. Several times a week we would go over the bridge and pass the little repair shop that was just behind the Texaco station (which is now a rather high-end jewelry shop).  Now, "Historic Cedarburg welcomes you!"  It has, "specialty stores, wineries, charming restaurants, gracious inns and a full calendar of festivals and events...."  But no repair shops. 

*Quotes from www.cedarburg.org

Friday, February 21, 2014

Second Sight

In the absence of color
my parched eyes drink darkness
through pupils
dilated and yearning.

It fills the vitreous chamber,
presses against optic nerve,
with the weight of the void
that is now inside me.

Upside down images of naught
reflected against my macula
dissipate and re-form
as I sit unaware
and stare
into nothing...

and everything.


For G-man's FF55.   

Sunday, February 16, 2014

11th August

     Universal Studios Lot, Instagram by sessepien

At day’s end
 when shadows were long
we’d sit and dangle bare legs
over the edge
of the fire escape.
Looking down on the city
was sort-of magicy.
The smell of
bus-fumes-liver-and-onions-pot-curry
danced through the air
and the tiny people below
softened into vagueness
as the sun snuck off.
You and I would talk about
far away…
   long ago…
      yet to be…
There were forests 
full of green and grey,
swimming pools,
and yards big enough for puppies.
There were dragons and gargoyles 
to be dealth with;
criminals to be fought, 
awards to accept.
We could go anywhere,
do anything,
and nothing could stop us.
Except for mama
calling us to bed.


This is for The Mag creative writing site hosted by Tess Kincaid, and also linked to dVerse open link night.  Click on the links and check them out for some great writing.

Friday, February 14, 2014

Choir Loft

Tuesday is funeral day.
I sit above
and watch the pews fill
with sober, black overcoats.
They recite dry words
with mouths
already half-full of dirt.
Too many grey heads
nod and bob below,
though one less
than last Sunday.
The old rites
are blowing away
in the February chill
as we sing this soul home.


This is for G-man's FF55.  Late, so to speak.  Sorry for the dreary topic on Valentin's day, but I sing in a little country church choir and a funeral on Tuesday for a man I don't know at all got me thinking.  I'm still thinking, but here's the first bit.

Sunday, February 9, 2014

I Dream of Flying

     The Blessing Bringer by Lisa Graham

I dream of flying.
And in my dream
all the familiar things
fall away
until I am perfectly alone.
There is nothing
but wind and sun and me.

I have no
wax-wings to melt,
or finger-feathers to molt.
I do not hold on
to Superman’s cape.

I simply
 follow the curve of the earth
towards tomorrow
like all the heroes do.


This is for all the lovely toads in The Garden.  Grace has introduced the paintings of Lisa Graham, which can be found here Lisa Graham Art.  Follow both links to check out all the lovely poetry and paintings!

Monday, February 3, 2014

Eternity

    Eternity by Mary Bach

Today
I cultivate the space
even though I do not yet know
what will
grow.


I spent the weekend at a retreat called Brush Wisdom.  We learned about a type of Japanese calligraphy called Sosho as a vehicle for contemplative calm and peace.  This is my stylized version of the eternity character.