"You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."

-Indigo Montoya (The Princess Bride)

{Day 22}


Words are often a peculiar thing
I really like them so -
but it can be hard to use them
when the meaning does not flow

If you need an example, well,
today I thought  - perfunctory -
this word should not include the fun
it leads me to perplexity


not to mention inevitible misuse
this word which rolls so,  off the tongue
a pleasure to say - multi-syllables, too
makes the definition just seem wrong!


***
per • func • to • ry [per-fuhngk-tuh-ree]

adjective

 

1.     performed merely as a routine duty; hasty and superficial: perfunctory courtesy.

 

2.     lacking interest, care, or enthusiasm; indifferent or apathetic: In his lectures he reveals himself to be merely a perfunctory speaker.

Second Guessing

{day 21}

nine more poems is all i've left
and as with most goals, i'm left wanting

authentic cast is what i sought,
only now it seems a shallow canting

a writer of poetry?  is that what i am?
sometimes i feel a need for planting

but what becomes of it?  what has grown?
lately it only feels like ranting.

September Day

{day 20}


Today I hunger
for trees and trails

Yet work I must
in the dust and scales

of this humble abode
old and sweet

Will make my home
"a bliss complete"

While at the task
making windows shine

Smells from sky
flow in like wine

I will drink it up
while I work away

When I am done
I am sure to play!



(*Happy, Happy  Birthday Jaye!!!  Love you!!!)

The Whistling Song

(Technically these are lyrics I wrote...it counts, right?)


 [verse 1]

You know those days
when you're walkin' down the street
feelin' fine (so fine)
sunshine on your back

you just have to give a smile
to the stranger who passed by you
cause hey, it's the neighborly thing to do
but just then you take a misstep or two and you -

well you find...

that you fall, fall, fall to the ground
just when you thought you couldn't get down
now you start to feel blue,
well, there's only one thing to do  - you just

roll over
look up at the sky
give it one more try and I,

I hope you remember me
fondly.


[verse 2]

The only times I want a dog, are
when I see one pass by in a car
head out the window
wind in the face
it puts me in a happy place, so,

Would you be my dog for a day?
Would you look at me, as if to say,
that you just love me so and
you wanna play all day?

well,

Now I know that's not
a very good analogy
for human friendship,
but I'm hoping that you'll understand me,  'cause

sometimes
when I'm feelin' fine (so fine)
and I think I can't go wrong
Well, I run at the mouth too long...

and I fall, fall, fall to the ground
I really hope I didn't let you down
or start to make you feel blue
well there's only one thing that we can do

roll over
look up at the sky
maybe give me just one more try
and I hope you'll remember me

fondly


[verse 3]

Hey, You,
with the dashing smile -
I've been watching you awhile,
and even though I know
you're not mine to claim,
I've got something to say
just the same;

I...

hope you have a nice day.

May not sound like much to say to you
but I really hope you're days are good, it's true!
And that you never, ever feel blue
but when you do
('cause you will...)

fall, fall, fall to the ground
I hope you know that I will be around
And when you start to feelin' blue
there's only one thing for you to do

roll over
look up at the sky
just give it one more try


Oh I hope you remember me
fondly.

Memoir

 {day 18}

she looked in the mirror
she was working on her 26th year

she saw, in her round face,
a flower in it's fullest bursting bloom
a physical pinnacle

she half-wished, looking into her reflection
she had made better use of it -
it had been a life of capricious tending

she sighed. 
shrugged her shoulders.

after all

these five years plus, she had put away childish things -
not much time to worry about
youth and beauty and fleeting concepts like, "prime"

she turned her head from side to side
eyes fixed and calculating -
a voice inside her warned,
'this is as good as it is going to get'
which she repeated aloud

she shook off the moment
walked away from her youthful face.
she thought she had accepted the reality of it all-
that she would be okay with it.

ah, yes

it is easiest to accept the inevitable wilting
on that florid day
when you are the fieriest bloom on the bush.


(Happy Birthday Dear Tim, who is sure to be out on a run about now, and looks decades younger than he actually is!  Love you, Dad)

Rival-reek (A Haiku)

{day 17}

cougar fumble-fest
four precious hours, groaning
wish they'd come to play

Maybe Someday Soon

{Day 16}

Last night I dreamt of shining eyes
and a laugh so sweet -

A loving touch, an easy gaze
a familiar voice complete

with kindness, fondness and open words,
a friendship tried and true-

When I awoke I wished I could
give that back to you.

Who Can Find a Virtuous Woman?

{day 15}

shimmering auburn waves
like a fiery crown,
she is a queen
who possesses every virtue
of the the divine call.

she fights every battle
with courage and strength
fiercely protects her own
charging ahead of her cavalry

amidst the maelstrom
she is struck down -
a full year
in and out
of the hospital

with each visit
her insides are removed
piece by piece
saving only what's necessary
to keep fighting

i see now
the empty space was needed
to make room
for her ever growing lion heart

Fool's Gold

I will keep scribbling things down
tap-tapping on the keyboard
I will do this
until the genius comes out
--it is taking so much longer
than I would like

Do you know, does anyone else out there understand
the misery of a dead tongue? 
unable to express
what is seen and understood?
To have a profound experience which you are only able
to retell in deflated description?

I saw a sunset yesterday that would have saved your life
if your life needed saving
and to save my own, I can't explain it to you now.


Does anyone else know what it feels like,
to have a cavernous mind? 
Yes, that's the metaphor for my brain...
Deep? Maybe.
Pitch.  Absolutely.

Mining for the right words
It is a clamor,
desperately digging and blindly searching,
feeling aimless
I was sure there was a purpose

So now I resort to recklessly scratching at clumps of key strokes
which crumble into 
the
same
dull
words.

This weakness is madness. 

procrastination

{day 13}

it is late
i am sleepy

but i've got
a goal to keepy

the though of writing
makes me weepy

maybe you think
this poem is creepy

but goal is met,
snuggled in my teepee-

now i go to bed!

Because I Have Some Regrets

{day 12}

when it comes to the mystery of time
perspicuity comes in retrospection
now i see - 
we insist upon things
or we don't
time does not care

and so i will discard it-
the persistent counting
as if there is a beginning and an end

it is so flawed
so many limiting presuppositions
early
late
in time
(or on it)

only a container
a box
to categorize and label
then close up

maybe you disagree
maybe you say;

time is a tool
a motivator
keeps us from chaos
from wasting our lives

maybe


i think i will measure my life
under a different paradigm;

the sun is up
i am here!
there are things i want
and do not have

i am going to get them
choice by tiny choice -
pay attention
i will measure this way -
when i know better,
i will do it


i insist upon it.

Where Were You?

 {Day 11}


I was in a cocoon
three babies under three
smothered by feeding times
diaper changes
nothing was my own anymore,
time or body or space
constantly wriggling to find room
for sleep

Beloved in his own cocoon
wrapped in work
having just graduated
four mouths to feed
breathing was hard
he was wrapped so tight

one day he calls me
tells me to turn on our
shoebox of a telly
"which channel?" i say
"doesn't matter" he says

I was holding two babies,
another clutched my leg
I crouched down
settled them on the floor
while I watched the burning building

i stood there
dumbfounded
phone in the crook of my neck
wriggling babies all over the floor
in the free world

"what is happening?" i say
"i don't know, i don't know" he says
and then
another airplane
making another
gaping
hole

smoke and crumbling

he and I were not
separate in that moment
or sheltered in the cocoons of
our tiny lives

a naivity shed together
exposed to a bigger,
terrifying reality

A Spiritual Quest

{Day 10}

a holy patriarch uttered my name
and it was written on
2 full pages, single spaced, small font
-  of the mortal promises i made

so
many
promises


so typical of me
i can see it
eager, willing
wanting to do so much
having heroic intentions
for this life, this experience
not having a clue
what i'm getting myself into

and then, as it so often has been
when put to the test
barely, just barely average
having to scramble at the end
to be good enough
to "pass the exam"

 but

a death bed repentance
is not good enough
is not what i promised

in that holy and sweet prayer
reminded
i said 
i would

in those days before days
and now it is days upon days
they slip through me like hand-cupped water

running faster will not help
wisdom is what i need
what i should have asked for
before i left on my journey

wisdom
is what i pray for
each day

Initiation

we drove awhile
we stopped
i watched them buy cheetos, oreos and snickers bars.

we drove some more
back,
back
into the hills
and walked even further in
along the railroad tracks

tucked in this place
i was learning all their secrets
this father and son who love to wander
seeking solitude in rushing waters
and fish to outsmart

they taught how me to tie the knots
again
lent me some of their flies
and from this place we parted
stretching ourselves
along the river

i watched my love
his strong, broad back
amble down a steep bank
and his father too, down a ways
with fly rod in hand

they dipped easy into the water
the rocks are slippery
but they know how to pull their legs
against, along, through
the cold, cold current

i found my own spot
i fished a little
mostly for flies tangled in the bushes
lots of unplanned knots
it was a beautiful day anyway

just before we left,
my father in law urged me
"one more cast"  "let's get you a fish"
sweetheart had the camera ready

lo and behold
i got a rise
i set the hook
i reeled that pretty little fish in
we hooted
we high-fived

those men
who from the start
saw my longing to go
let me tag along
even though i am a girl

they let me see
their secret nook in the mountains,
partake of their motherless lunch,
listen to stories and jokes I could tell
had been recast
many times
for many years


i love them.
i loved that day.

Blessed Three Times and Forever...

One
is the one who calls to inform me
he is at the widow's house
helping her sort out shoes
which will be given to those in need,
and then he'd like to go and play.

Two
is the one, barely a decade old
who has an SAT score
marked repeatedly with
PHS
(post high school)
but will always defer to his mother
because he cares about feelings more than anything else

Three
is the one who cannot be told
determined to learn in her own way -
and in her own world.
i am not at all nervous.
she is unbreakable in her happiness,
dancing always to a song in her heart.




*darling photo courtesy of Lizzie Carter. (click on her name to see some great photog skills.  you won't be sorry.)

the Ugly Unbosoming

Thou shalt not covet
one explained this as, "counting another person's blessings"
i know the sin

if you don't know
it feels like bile
green churning in your belly
sour heat which burns
from your guts and up into your eyes
you blink
you try to swallow it down
it makes you sick
makes you want to bawl and hide
so you can hate yourself where no one can see you

my problem
is what i covet
the longer i live
the harder i try
i fear i shall never obtain
but be forced to live and
see what i desperately covet
in another woman's form

i don't know how to remedy this-

it's not her fortune or family
i am more than satisfied with my own

it's not her car or dwelling
i don't care much for material things

it's not her handsome features
even if by comparison her profile is much more pleasing

no,
it's her character

coveting character is a silly thing, i know
it's not reserved only for some with the right name
and others by strategic measures of
marriage or birth or by the tricking of the fates
character -
it is attainable by everyone
and yet,

i struggle
and fight
and try to be better
and just when i think i'm on the right path

she walks into the room
not a muse
not an ideal
a fresh and real live woman
magnanimously embodying

focus
quality
virtue
discipline
strength
and more
she wafts this ample bundle
while leaping through her days
doesn't stop

and i?
i struggle to carry and collect
dragging one obstinate and lazy foot
must stop to rest
every few minutes
only then realizing what i've dropped
having to go back and pick up the mess
again and again

we are all running our own race
i know it
we all have our own bundle to carry
and claim
to compare is to lose sight of the real goal
i know that too,  i do!
but, and this is my deadly sin -

i can't help but see the glaring difference
the possibilities
the breadth of my lacking
when she breezes in

no longer young enough
to be under the illusion of ample time
regret creeps in for what i have not done

and while i continue to try (i will not give up)
i seem doomed to a thick and fast
gulping down of that caustic fetor
every time i see what she,
in the very same years,
has become

she-
lovely
faith-filled
good
courage
shiny like a new penny (as they say)-
she is doing it

while i fumble along -
awkward
messy
insanely slow
ever distracted
watching
with wonder

with envy.

Springtime Self-Sabotage

200 dollars

   2 swimsuits

   4 cup cakes

127 teaspoons of frosting

one

day.

*NOTE TO TREAT CHALLENGERS: this event took place before our challenge began.  Just want to be clear, I'm still in the game!

Sow Sweet

Little Miss Piglet

Wore a burgundy wiglet

To make up for that which she lacked.

"There's no hair on my head"

the piglet, she said,

"And I've a big spot on my back."

Lad Piglet, said he,

(for a good friend he be)

"You need to cut you some slack!"

"Don't you see that your spot

is a jewel, and a lot

like an onyx, shiny and black?"

"And your pink crown when bare,

really showcases there,

Smart eyes and soft lips I would smack!"

* Image credit (minus obvious editing) here

In the Day Today

finally pulled out paints for my boy
he'd been asking for days
mom's been too busy for a mess

...
left to write an inquiry
sent the message hoping
to find reciprocation in friendship
didn't get it

caught myself, once again
living in a dream world
felt dumb in forgetting
some relationships just won't pan out

...
came back to clean up the paints
praised my boy for his fine creative work  
looked it over, ooh-ing and ahh-ing
saw a light in his face, a satisfaction

there it was.
right there.
validation I had been longing for, a reality
from the bluest (truest) eyes I've ever seen
love given and returned in a flash, small and sweet


whatever happens in the hours to follow
it is a good day

Coming Back to Town...

we yelled in the driveway
we have neighbors who watch
we didn't care, because
i hurt his feelings
and he hurt mine
-he wanted to come first in my life
-I wanted to be first in his
we couldn't see
while standing in the driveway
that our hurt and anger proved
we are

*painting: Man and Woman by Fernando Botero