Monthly Archives: May 2012


Morning and thanks for visiting.  Long sippy of the coffee.  aaaah.  I’m nervous today.  I tell my 5 minute story tonight at the Entre-Slam at Live at the corner of Huron and First.  7pm.   I’m sure it will all be good and my belly is all quaky and jittery.  A new diet plan: stand in front of lots of people and talk jibberish for a few minutes.  YA…


Fear plays out insecurities

Travels to the belly 

Confirms the nerves quest

to badger the emotions

to feeble jitters of falsehoods

Maybe up stories of what 

might be that hasn’t been yet

Lost to the fearful expectation

of being less than in front

Of You.


It’s only a story

It’s only exposure

It’s only being seen 

in the honesty of a moment

for others to have an opinion

a feeling, a chance to 

support you unknown 

and raw just like them


No one wants you to fail

No one wants to see you lose

Not there in front of them

OH NO not there in front of them

where they’d have to witness it

and feel it like it was their own

Diving into their gut fears

exposed by you standing there

nearly naked sharing yourself






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Howdy… Thanks for stopping by.   Weather relief… Yippee.  Too hot for this gal these last days.  And… nature wins. She does what she feels she can and we that share space with her have to go with the hot flow.  So. today, is perfect.  Cool and sunny.  aaaahhh

Tomorrow, I slam a story in front of other local entrepreneurs at Live in Ann Arbor.  I can safely tell you, I’m super nervous.  I have my story ready for the telling.  It will ultimately, well, if I win, which I don’t know that at all. might go up on You-Tube.  Now wouldn’t that be a hoot?


Stories are for the telling

At least some stories are

Some stories are ramblings

that don’t get you far


It’s all one big story

We have one going all the time

Don’t fool yourself in the glory

That yours might be mine


We walk around making up

Some story about this or that

Having no idea of the what

That really is where the story’s at


What do you know about the truth

When no details belong to you

YOu walk around with no real proof

About what doesn’t belong to you


Stories are for the telling

Be sure you know the facts

Otherwise my friends your selling

Words that are not on track


What you see may not be what it is

No matter the story you glean

Until you walk in someone else’s biz

You story is not what it seems


The story you tell is yours alone

The truth is yours in that telling

NO other truth can be known

Cause only you know that telling


PLEASE… visit my Invitation Tarot blog.


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I went and saw  The Exotic Marigold Hotel.  I loved it.  Truly a good geezer movie.   I realized that I certainly do not want to be one of the invisible old ones that people think don’t have desire, or passion, or the drive to be the best that we can each and every moment.  Seeing the beauty  and wisdom in the aging process, when nature has her way with us and our beauty shifts to wrinkles and sags.  That that inner beauty we are quick to tell the youth about is truly within us and that We are part of the Divine expression of what ever is God, or Source, Or Oneness, or Goddess, or Nature…

Geezers of the World Unite.  We are beautiful and wise, and have so much to share.


Each wrinkle moved like a wave

In unison with her giggle

Her snicker was a ripple

on the shore of her old body


And when she really gave in

To a belly full of laughter

Every part of her shimmered

And shook in ruffles of old ribbon


And the lace of her eighty plus decades

Were as detailed as the hands

That tatted them in a dexterous

flow of a life intricate and beautiful


I watched the ripples and waves of her

Held to the story of a bright yesterday

Of a life well lived found in this moment

She wore her history in wrinkled time


Her youth still a sea of desires passion

Held within the wrinkled times and

Decades of yesterdays, that in this

moment bubble like lava to her surface


She is the girl she has always been 

She is the wise woman of living long

She is the wrinkled wave of love that kisses your shore

She is forever the shimmer of passions want





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I remember you

there is never a forget

rocked safe in your arms



I remember you 

your picture rests in my heart

your dust heals the land



I remember you

violence took you sudden

I bled for your lose



I remember you

Abandoned we struggled hard

forgiveness frees me



I remember you

The sass of your needles click

Made safe soft our walk



I remember you

Abandonment gave retreat

A family lost you



I remember you

Letting go of the fear-full

Forgive, Be Here Now






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Howdy.  Please join me for a bit of a sippy the coffee.  And a little quiet moment as we remember those that have transitioned before us.  Those that have given their lives on our behalf.  How ever you wish to give memorial to your loved ones and the plentitude of men and women that desire our remembrances.  Take a moment now.  breathe…


There is no getting out of life alive

Physical reality finds its end

Sooner or later


One way or another: softly or violently

The soul needs to be out on its own

No physical restrictions


A joining with the great Cosmos

The Heavens, the Universe

Infinity longs for your return


Wrapped in Blues and Violet

Shimmering with the starlight

Star bright, first star you see tonight


You become ONe with all that Light

Home at last once you give up your body

When It finds it end in Infinity


There is NO getting out of life alive

Physical reality will find it’s dirt

Sooner of later


Energy melds with spirals of Light

And at last you find yourself 

part of the Heavens… Home


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Oh.. the rain.  the delicious soft patter of the rain.  I know the Earth needs it and apparently so do I.   




I can feel the dry

parts of me moisten softly

Tender my hearts flow


Tree leaves hold droplets

Earth’s waiting vessel calling

Linger the rains fall 


Wet green moist inhale

Let the nature of things fill

Every cell in you 


Rain has her wet ways

A tease or a flood away

She will what she may



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Mornin’ people.  The heats rising already this a.m.  on my third sippy the coffee.  And the poetry has yet to reveal itself.  As you loyal followers know, it will.  BTW..  I have my story for the Entre-Slam next week.  I’m Not telling it here, you’ll have to come hear me.  


Rain seems best when not from the heart

It’s best when it comes gathered up 

in those fat grey rolling clouds

filled with lightening and thunder

ready to burst wide and feed the land


Rain that comes from the heart takes 

the lightening hits with anguish

and thunder shudders the hurt hard

through the whole body in a fever

Storming fast the drenched inside


Some rain is tender, soft to the land 

Gentle on the heart in a patter of care

A little nurturance and giving

Melting the grey cloud to blue

with no tribulation to an open heart


All storms have a way of clearing out 

Rain or tears inside or out

A great washing away for a new day

It’s noticing the gift of it

Noticing the refresh of the release


Maybe the heart’s rain is best.




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Sippy the coffee.And a good morning to you.  Thanks for your visit here.  I really appreciate that you take the time to stop in here and read my ‘bizness’.  I have made my Poetic journaling public and that’s kinda a big deal.  At this point of 420 some days of making it all up ‘on the fly’ every morning, I forget that you take some of your time out to read my ramblings.  I really appreciate that. 

 Sitting here in the cool morning, windows wide open listening to the chatter of morning birds, feeling the fresh soft smell of the morning awakening.  It’s so lovely.  I do wish I could fly.


My nest is sticks and beach stones

Sifting sand and Springs rise to green

Cat fur and dust bunnies, recycled life

Snow and fertile ground held together

by the vines of roses and sweet peas

blooming the satisfaction of the giving

glory to the seasons


My branches have suffered most weather

damaged in the emotional heat of living

Inspired and woven with the colors of you

Quivering with bursts of laughter

Feeling the thunder and rain beat the tears 

Out of the dark brown gaze that sees from

My way up here hitting the hard surfaces

the sea’s roar on a rocky shore


My nest has been safe, Safe enough

Tightly woven in the way up there

In the right here of gathered collectables

And the roll of season after season of

taking and giving and taking and giving

and years of a life lived big and creative

folding into the arms of Earth and sky

significant cause I make it so

Significant cause you make it so


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23 may 2012     It’s a wednesday.  I was born on a wednesday and the poem says: “ Wednesday’s child is full of woe”.  I do not accept that as my truth.  Do ya think they said that cause it’s starts with a ‘W’ and that was the first word the poet had to run with?  How about ‘Wonder’?  Or maybe ‘Wise’?

This Wednesday’s child is full of Wonder

Feels the Wisdom in the Whimsy


Welcomes the Wonder with her Whole self

Wishes  Wellness for the World


Wishes Wanderers enjoy their Walk

Wish our Way to be Well Waged


Wages freedom from the Wall of Silence

Walks in Peace to Win the War


Takes the Wand of magic Willingly

Waltzes on a Wave of air


Wrangles with the Want of Wholeness

Wills her Woman-self to Witness


Wears her Want With a Wail of Freedom

Weeds away What doesn’t Work


Weeps With Joy and With the Wasteland

Whispers White dove to the Wind


Wednesday child has Won the War

Woe is gone It is no more

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ENTRE-SLAM GOES LIVE …31ST MAY  GO HERE and see what ‘fresh hell’ I got myself into.

On Thursday, the 31st of May I will be telling a 5 minute story at LIVE, 102 S. 1st st.  at 7pm.  The topic is.  “The Show Must Go On”.  I am all a flitter.  REALLY.  I’d love your support.


Five minutes 

is an eternity.

Giving the vulnerable 

a chance to make believe 

naked in front of a crowd

of hungry listeners taking in 

your exhaled words of courageous 

story-telling of some yesterday in 

your long ago for their entertainment


There is no fame in this exposure

that was left to someone else’s 

15 minutes of tabloid air time.

Of little matter to you in this 

five minutes of naked 

fully clothed in front

six billion people

represented by

a few friends

and a gaggle

of strangers


Naked and scared

you do it anyway



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