Monthly Archives: October 2012


HAPPY SAMHAIN…  as well as Dia De Los Muertos, (the day of the dead). My favorite time of year and my favorite day.  I like to take the ‘Hallmark’ out of it cause this is truly a sacred day for me.   Not about ghosts and witches, or ghouls and pumpkins, (maybe pumpkins).  This is a time when the veil between the worlds is thin.  Some refer to that world as the spirit world, or the world of those that transition before us, for me it is the ‘unseen’ world, certainly the spirit world.  It is time to remember our ancestors.  A time to release old stuff, to give space for something new and more expansive.

 There is a certain kind of ‘death’ when we let go of what no longer serves our life, especially when we have held on to a way of thinking or being that has, maybe never, been a positive, loving experience for ourselves.

It is a time to plant a seed within ourselves.  A seed that is maybe something we thought we could never do, or a creative opportunity we put on the ‘back burner’, or any number of ‘seeds’ to nurture over the long winter that may come to a greening in the Spring.

 What might you need to release to give space and expansion in your life?  

What seed/s might you plant to be nurtured and come to push through the  soil of you life?




Jump to the big Boo

It’s a ghostly dark night haunt

Fear no deathly call


Honor what has gone

Endings find new beginnings

Rejoice the let go


Death is the new life

Making way for renewal

See beyond yourself


Release the old ways

Give expansion to your life

Plant a seed of love 


I see all of you

Thin is the veil between worlds

Nothing is unseen


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Morning people… Us geezer girly-fiends will make our decent down the state with the big wind.  Leaving the bigger wind and the turbulent Lake Michigan to slam at the land.  Not a ‘rock hounds’ day at the beach.

Sandy had her way with the East coast and snow pummels in feet the Appalachians.   West coast has its continued earthquakes and Nature wins.



If you haven’t bared the Nature of you

feel the metaphor roll across your land


From outside in the sea of you churns

in storming tidal waves of  feeling


Pouring down on to the roads and into the subways

Of the deep of you, on the land you claim


Does Nature make for coincidence in her expressions?

Does She swirl like a might galaxy over the waters?


In the ‘As Above So Below’ for us to understand

In the bearing down of her a reminder that she wins


More than often her grace gives to blue and Sun

And full moon nights light the sky in magic glow


There is nothing she is not capable of expressing

In the vastness of creativity made manifest for us to imagine


We are of her nature in  the nature of Her

Elemental beings expressing our vast creativity


We are Sunny days and violent oceans

White deep winters and vacant deserts


We are giggling brooks and bolts of lightening

Surging tides and forest moss resting


We are gentles rains and our earth cracking open

spilling out our hot lava and gentle kissing the shore


We are Nature’s nature….

Think not that you will not win








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Geezergirlies are fun and surly.

Pickin’ stones on the beach mighty early

Havin’ fun in Leland Town

Sure to see everything around


Here and there and everywhere

Busy Girlies do curse and swear

Little potty mouths a yappin’

Laughin’ silly then were flappin’


That’s what happens when old girls gather

With stories of life and love together

Havin’ such a jolly ol’ time

Eattin’, laughin’, sluggin’ the wine


History plays a memory game

Remembering when where was the same

Here we are now from all these decades ago

As if it was yesterday us girls feel the flow


Of the giggles and gossip and the boys and the girls

When we were those young things still not yet unfurled

Finding our way to  woman grown up now

Only to find we’re still those girls  that somehow


Still live inside us in our fluff and our curls

When innocence and discover had our heads in whirl

Delicious remembrance, some painful laments

We share in this gathering of us Girls sentiments


Lucky we are of these days we share

Vulnerable friends our souls we do bare

Us Geezer Girl we still have what it takes

To be friends forever with love we partake



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Us girls are in our third day of fun and renewal…

Hail to us all…



The crow flew west sounding his alarm

The fog of the morning burned in the Suns’ awakening charm

Took flight in the wind lead by the caw to waters edge

The flirt of the trickster’s squawk pulled to our wander said


We let our wings open to the wind n’ fog in rising Sun

Pulled by the unknown mystery of land to lake for fun

Black wings floated to the sandy beach

Between toes the grit filed our trek with no retreat


Eyes held to stone and pebble, shell to glass.

We be Pirates of this mitten’s morning quest

To find the blue stone treasure through the rising mist

Assured the magic would fill us without resist


Three crones in call to ancient fires

Around the circle we sing to the flaming pyre

Remembering our long agos in the far away

Remembering the magic of those magic days


When crow did call from east and west

Tease and taunt our heart felt quest

To find the sky held to rock and stone

Of heaven on earth that lay hold to our bones


Here we are a last brought by the Call

Of Crow to air and our Northern soul

To this land with beach of flow and stone

We three crones have found we’re never alone






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US girls on the road. Big face me.

Tender is the heart in history’s ramble

Shared stories of love and loss lays us open

At the belly of our lives consumption

That fed us for six decades to meet at the

gut and give in the safety of friendship


In rush our tears and laughter we tremble 

The weather of us meets in sunrises and tidal waves

Shining and drowning one moment to the next

Grateful for the gathering of heart to heart

In the unexpected wonder how time is meaningless


The heart and soul have no time frame or suspense

Love’s flow knows all our sunrises and tempestuous seas

It knows the gratitude of friendship that holds no judgement

In the glory of giving freely all that you have ever been

And have hoped to be in the coral wonder and slamming waves


Sacred is the gathering of ourselves laid at this altar

Of surrender under the northern Michigan sky and

The white cap grey of the Big Lake’s vastness

Natures children sharing our elements and seasons together.

LIke the trees, we are naked to each other, fearless to any weather.




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lions, n’ tigers, n’ Giants … oh my

Holy Moly BatMan/Woman, this ain’t Kansas anymore.  Up north here I come.  Girlfriends,  older than dirt arrived last night, and ready for a roadtrip.  Friends guarding my ‘fort’ and pets. Weather super duper.  OH YIPPPeeee.  

My friend Carol, gave a great ‘one liner’ last night in reference to some man I think we knew when we were babies, (at least that long ago)  Maybe she was referring to one of the Tigers Or Giants last night…Whatever the reference, I laughed good n’ hard.  I decide I would let it inspire me this morning.  I realize it might be one of those lines ya had to be here for to fully appreciate.  What-ever… right?

“He wouldn’t know his ass if he had his hands all over it.”


 He was all tucked into his tight baby blue cotton game suit

Cap pulled down tight on that big ol’ lumberjack head

Number 007, chewing on some God awful piece of something dead

Chunked up in the corner of his mouth like a squirrel 

Harboring up winter’s meal in its lil’ squirrelly cheeks.

Movin’ his mouth like a cow on it’s cud in heat

Spittin’ and sprayin bits of bone and sinew out the corner of his mouth

I was hopin’ it would rupture out his nose and hurt.


He was ready, rotating his spiked shoes into the dirt 

Rolling on that dead thing in his mouth with his tongue

Swiveling his ass with the bat held high quivering to meet that ball

He was ready to place all 90 miles an hour of orbital rotation right out the park.

“Hit the frickin’ thing, knock that S.O.B outta the park. Send it to heaven.”

Oh ya, we were screamin’, yellin’ hard on the edge of seats, hearts racing.

“Now or never damn it, yer the man, bring’em on home baby.”

Strike 3… 


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The sky gets wider as the leaves give their slow twirl to Earth

Hundreds in golds and reds  in release make naked their summer home

Laying the carpet thick with their final breath


Vulnerability spreads it branches to the coming season of bitter cold

Rooted deep, gathering the vital force of earth to harbor the core of life safe

The metaphor trembles in me.

Of being fully frocked in summer green and lush 

All dressed up for the heat and the party in abundance

Then Winter heralds her call in chilled beg of release to lay it all down


Lay it all down vulnerable and naked to the season of freeze and austerity

There is no hiding of the self when the cold bares down hard

The flirt of Summer dress falls away hiding nothing

HIding nothing at all

As you stand stripped to your branches, unguarded, unprotected, 

Exposed in the raw like every other tree in the woods.

Every tree in your woods with arms stretched to the Heavens

Taking the Winter for the renewal of life in Spring


Cause it will come.  It will come and feed your soul of green

Call creativity up from the roots of you as you give again

It is for this you remember as you let the death  of things go

Rooted to the truth of of the everlasting journey of  One with the other

What was never yours has always been yours in the circle of Seasons

In the circle of life, In the unending circle of All that Is.

In the death and life, and Rebirth, In the coming and going and return


Maybe, you are Pine


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Hail all you beautiful people. This morning I thought I’d check on what I wrote last year on this day.  After it, is today’s little ditty. This is it… 23 Oct 2011… I think I’m better earlier in the day With words that jump up and play Awake too long my mind it tumbles gets busy with life’s daily jumble   So here I sit at three p.m Hoping for a poetic gem To lay upon this blogging table Dig into some clever fable   As you see this is it Gathering some words to fit Into this day that is sublime Doesn’t matter I’m not on time   Whatever the ‘right time might be The time is right now for me It’s kinda fun to make things rhyme Turn a word on a thin dime   It’s not about this being my best There is no best on request Being here in the now This is what I got.. OH Wow. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ TODAY… TADDAH   I’m not sure I have a rhyme in mind As I sit here with hope sublime This wordy thing I like to do Hard to know what will come down the chute   I am reminded the fun of rhyme When first my poems rhymed all the time There’s something clever in these silly fits Of rhymes that find a way to sit   On these pages that I sage my verse With no rehearse that is none the worst Than endless hours of words made right The suffering writer in the late of night   No no not this poet girl in a wordy swirl Sitting here making words dance and twirl Have fun that’s done real soon I channel a loon that calls from the moon   The problem is once I’m on this rhyme It is hard to stop the word roll and get to work on time All day long I’ll hear this beat twirling people in their seat Rhyming clever in my meet and greet   Gotta go.  See ya later Bye bye now must stop this patter

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Morning… The shorting days encourage longer bed nesting.  It hard to rise in the dark for me.  And, I do like to enjoy the sun coming up.    I’m still clear that the hour only has 37 minutes, cause isn’t time zooming by?  It’s pushing the end of October and wasn’t it just June?  Eeek.  

I was wondering if any of you had some favorite poems that you’ve read here that I might consider putting in a poetry book?  I’d appreciate it, if you have the time to help me out here, and let me know.  thanks so much.




integrity |inˈtegritē|


1 the quality of being honest and having strong moral principles; moral uprightness : he is known to be a man of integrity.

2 the state of being whole and undivided : upholding territorial integrity and national sovereignty.

• the condition of being unified, unimpaired, or sound in construction : the structural integrity of the novel.

• internal consistency or lack of corruption in electronic data : [as adj. ] integrity checking.

ORIGIN late Middle English (sense 2) : from French intégrité or Latin integritas, from integer ‘intact’ (see integer ). Compare with entirety , integral , and integrate .


There’s cubby holes of me with stories, and rocks and shells and honey

Tucked in most available spaces.

My unity has been, may still be entirely all over the place

In an ordered esthetic museum of a life collected

In some integral fashion by wants design and lack’s fear and pretty things

Not remotely interested in being divided

Spared of no little honesty settled somewhere in the body

Routed out by sudden chaos


Am I upright and solid in my divided self not feeling the divide

Wholly sure of all the goodness

Held to the comfort of the gathering and eye candy around me

My territory is not limited to this

My conditions of being unified are the oceans all connected

And never a repeat of the same sunrise

Sovereignty is in the hearts of our awakening to Oneness

Being of sound construct, unimpaired


I rest in the integrity of being whole where ever I have placed treasures

A pirate’s bounty sails  the oceans 

That are all connected bodies of flow and tides and waves.

I am unified with all of it












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I’m a bit of a poet slacker… that’s what happens when I don’t feel well.  I”M BACK..


Breaking the chain of days of words

Finding the string that binds in my hands

Letters that call out stories in lines

That lay me in sentences across the page


Inner critic ties me in knots 

suffocates poetic structure’s dally

It’s all good if I believe it to be 

No day is lost in timelessness


Crawl out of the dreary dally

of snot and cough, of head throbbing

Words to far away a to gather here


Give to the perfect moment 

Never lost to dis-ease’s clutch

Begin again and again 

Every moment is a new beginning



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