Monthly Archives: January 2013

A MOMMY TALE… Happy Birthday Mom


Happy Birthday Momma.  She would have been 97 today.  wow.  I will always miss my momma.

MOM'S COSTUME FOR A PARTY, EARLY 70'S

A MOMMY TALE…

I was 14, awkward and a floppy teenager.  You know the kind;  sure we’re right, and giddy most of the time, flopping on the couch bemoaning the affairs of school and friends, always saying.  “Oh Mom.” extending the drawn of the ‘o’ in the whine.

My mother was patient.  Doing her best to keep hearth and home stable for my brother and I. She worked as a secretary at the University to keep food on the table.  She was a cute, sassy lady.  She was always a lady cause that’s what her generation of women tended to be that came from educated backgrounds.

It was a Saturday night, I was babysitting for the neighbor boy in the apartment next to ours.  Mom had a date.  She had never had a date that I knew of so this was a big deal to me, and I image in forethought it was for her too.  It was all about me wasn’t it?

He was  a professor at the university and she was quietly excited about it; consulting me on what she’d wear.  I failed to see him come and pick her up because of my babysitting, which cause me all kinds of duress through out the evening.  I wanted to see this old guy that was taking my mother to the movies and dinner.  I wanted to lay my eyes on him and make my own teenage assessment.

My ears were attuned to every little sound emanating from our apartment building; waiting to hear the door downstairs open and my mother would return with some story to tell me.  It was just gone  9pm, when I heard voices and knew she was home.  I cracked the door to hear what was being said only to hear giggles and mumbles which made my heart a little racy.

I did hear his good bye and the door close.  I then stood at the top of the stairs waiting for my mother to come up.  First came her shoe; a little beige pump that landed on the first landing coming up, followed by a giggle.  I felt shocked and said, “MOM!”.  That was when the second shoe came flying up, landing on the top stair in front of my feet.

“Mom!”, I say, “What are You doing?”  She gives no reply.

By this time she’s at the top of the first landing making her slow steps up to me.  Her eyes are all glittery and mischievous.  Her closed mouth looks odd and ready to pop open as she gets to the two steps just below me.  I’m shaking my head and hoping she’ll tell me what in the world is going on, when she gives me this grin that looks like her teeth are bright orange.  And with this exhale of laughter a slice of orange flies out of her mouth and hits me in the chest falling to my feet.

I am stunned.  She is laughing hysterically at me, and I’m standing there mouth open and eyes like saucers wondering what the hell just happened.  Who is this woman in front me?  What happened to my mother?

I think for a moment I was frightened.  As fun and playful as my mother was, she didn’t act like this.  She had left the house kind of nervously excited and seemingly calm and returns insane.  I was speechless momentarily till she gave me a big hug, and I started to breathe again.

Mom had had a really good time.

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LIFE OF PINE


LIFE OF PINE

I am Pine.  I have a deep bed of my birthing at my roots, a couching of the fruits of my living,  laid to the Earth one on top of the other, on top of the other giving back to the land.  A loom of feed, a dark mulch to the land that holds the moist to my roots.  My cone of seed to find genesis.

I would be in silence and perfect stillness were it not for the tumble of the wind through my branches and the Sun pulling my green to my surfaces, and rain that shimmies through the bed of my children to my roots.  I grip the land with the gentle weave of my roots ever busy drawing up and in the taste of rock and soil.

My stillness is deceiving to my sensory vitality.  What is seen hides the unseen.  Were not the forest for it’s trees.  Not for the forest family that nibbles at my bark, or builds a fortress among my branches for me to hold the sacred birth of freedoms flight, or the protection from the surface bullies hunt, and hungry needs of what takes to give back to the cycle to life.

I Am.  Rooted here, vulnerable to the seasons in their elemental cacophony of mood swings and tumultuous whims.  The giving and taking of what feeds me lays to my branches and finds my roots for my reaching and pulling in.  Everyday holds a give and take in the mingle of roots to dirt, roots to neighbors in the family of forest keeping.  Roots to the land that is my becoming to this stewardship; busy nurturing from roots to sky.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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WHAT’S ON MY ALTAR


GLENA ARBOR 07 033

 

Wrap my loved one in healing light

Chant her songs of cherished delights

Nourish her land with the mulch of my heart

Every moment I begin at the start

 

I sing love songs across her land

Imagine great goodness to flow hand to hand

For the Highest good her greatest power

That her land blooms with fields of flowers

 

I wrap my loved one In healing light

Seeing her whole, well, and with a long life

We have lots of joy and play left in us to do

There are some thing that don’t belong in life’ stew

 

I light all my candles on my altar to you

My dear loved one some laughs are there too

Cause we’ll be doing some giggling and some big hahahas

The best medicine I know for the poopy blahs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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5 VOICES… A PANTOUM


I love this style of poetry.  It has a beauty in it’s unexpected outcome if you allow it and just go with it.

This Pantoum poem was a collective experience in my writer’s group.  With the exception of two lines which I took the liberty of editing very slightly, it is the collective voice of 5 writers.

treeshadowpath

Finding the stillness in my breath

I become one with the forest away from the screaming house

Bright flashes of light, illuminating faces around me

Then a shot sounds, echoing through the trees

I become one with the forest away from the screaming house

I am afraid

Then a shot sounds, echoing through the trees

I fell to the mossy earth and wept

I am afraid

I tremble and try to calm

I fell to the mossy earth and wept

I become exhausted but I feel cleansed

I tremble and try to calm

This shouldn’t be happening to me

I become exhausted but feel cleansed

I wash myself clean

This shouldn’t be happening to me

Bright flashes of LIght illuminating faces around me

I wash myself clean

Finding the stillness in my breath

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SUNSHINE DECEIT


And so it is that it’s sooo cold out there and the Sun shine brilliantly.  I’ll take the Sun anyway he wants to give on any day in the cold of winter.  Shine on…

winter white

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Sunshine deceives the chill

The bitter cold cares little for Light

It will lay it’s winter down

This is the way of this season

 

I feed on the Sun in the cold

I gulp it in through my eyes

Fill up fast on it to rise

My emotional temperature

 

Up beyond the gray gloom

I harvest it into my breath

I harvest it into my skin

I harvest it for winter silence

 

Make my body safe and savor

The delicious glow as the wade

Through the gray days eats up

My Sunlight’s larder

 

And too soon my harvest of light

Must come from beyond the winter

Before the next Sunshine gives

Remembering the Light is more

 

Than the bath of that golden orb

That feeds the land and fills my eyes

Light rests in dark places

I only have to imagine it so

 

 

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“I’ve lost my tuxedo, my strong suit”


I asked for a ‘line’ to begin this poem this morning.  Chatting about emotional availability and such relational experiences with a friend.  I, making a statement about the challenge of that, and that it might not be “…your best suit.”  And out of that, came this line.  Oh… I like it.  Let’s see where it goes shall we….

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masking..

‘I’ve lost my tuxedo, my strong suit”

It was from Paris and fit me like a glove

I lent that best suit of mine to someone

Someone’s got my ‘best suit’

And now I have no suit at all

No suit to protect my emotional vulnerability

And what suits me up in my protection

Is all layered up with decades of proof

That I might not be all that worthy of love

I’ve lost my tuxedo, my strong suit

I wore it well till I lent it out to someone

I suit up now with beer and smoke

And the distance that lives in that avoidance

I do lay my best cards down everyday

Let the ‘deal’ fall as it may with the hope

For that Royal Flush to win over the mundane

That suits some days and not others

In the lonely of the singularity

I’ve lost my tuxedo, my strong suit

It fit me like a glove Paris styled

I wish I knew who I lent it to

It suited me back in the day

Looking good in my show of self

In the no fear of vulnerability

strutting the confidence of youth

Not needing the to be available

except for the surfaces with the Jack wild

And I was suited up for the take me I’m yours

I wish I knew who I lent it to

It fit me like a glove

It suited me

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MY BIRTHDAY WISH LIST


For my Birthday today… Yep…today.  These are my wishes.

I was much younger then and couldn't help myself.

I was much younger then and couldn’t help myself.

JEANNE’S WISH LIST…

Peace on Earth

Kindness as a daily practice

Unabashed laughter

At least one thing to be grateful for in the morning and before bed

Finding peace when peace is hard to find

Embracing what scares me to love my fear away.

Having more and more love fill me up

Inviting the opportunity for a like-minded companion in my life

Gather my poetry and get published

Love my body and make it happy

Find a place to volunteer my gifts

Laugh some more

Pray for more peace

Help light the dark corners

Move out of duality

STay in the moment

Stay in the moment

Stay in the frick’n’ moment

Laugh all that staying in the face

And stay there.

MInd-full breathing

Welcoming stillness

Expand my work opportunities

Not think it’s all about me

Detach from negative thinking

Walk in nature

Be my best self for the highest good of each moment

Be Light

Be lighter

Have some lightness of being

Shine my light

Lighten up

Put the light on

Laugh out loud often

Support more Joy everywhere

Be nice

Be Love

Love it up

Be Here NOw.

 

 

 

 

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