Tag Archives: poem of the day


There is laze to this day held to the bodies call to release

To lay low in the shelter of quietude and nurturance

Sipping the Ginger and lemon, bathed in honey

To give sweetness to the sniffle and cough


The body asks for care in the busy and the sleepless

To slow and to rest in the patter of this day of soft rain

As leaves give their final cling to the branches

Soon to bare naked the tree to the winter howl


That time is not yet tho’ this time is for resting

Nestle in and let the rain chatter and bite

Snuggled in to the cozy of home and pets

Laze in this day for the body and mind to ease


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After noon brings this day busy at the coffee shop where I sit distracted by the coming and going of people.  Being visual, I’m pulled into pretty much everything.    The pleasures of distractions does not get writing done except in fits and flits.

I was a tattle tail today.  It had to be done and it drives me back to my childhood and the betrayal of it, even tho’ in this situation I’ve tattled on someone I don’t know.  It will be revealed what happens next.


There is conflict in the tattle tail when the tattle needs telling.  Or maybe it’s the telling of the tattle.  Some good words act as contra-band in the deceit of them out of clear context.  Goodness used toward a path to untruth that caresses the ear and ego with ‘it must be good’ cause those words tell me so.  There is no commodity from the bottom to the top when no service or product is held accountable for the exchange in the scheme and scam of that pyramid.  What goes up stays up and does not trickle far down no matter how the telling gets said in the tattle tattle of it.  Wanting a quick dash at the cash from the hopeful gift of other that is a circle that will open and be broken.  You will lose.

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Back from the Dease and the glorious morning sunrises, sunsets, and the beautiful gift of that Full Moon. Big WOW.  I was lazy, ate too much really good food that we made, special brownies, a little sippy of the vino.  RELAXED.  Took a hike in the ConAir trails, did some ‘junkin’.  lazed and geezed some more.  Ate.  yep…  Thanks Bridget n’ Alan for BFship.  I’ll be on your ship forever heading to where ever.




On board the ship of relation

The water can be fine then it isn’t

The sea of life goes from slick glass

to tsunami with little overt warning


There were signs bobbing around on

the surface.  It was the going deeper

that scared you or maybe the surface

safety keep you thinking that treading

water was how it was suppose to be


One day exhaustion settles into you

And you pray for a tidal to pick you up

And take you anywhere but where you are.

Cause that circle of safety isn’t keeping you dry.


Maybe you see a ship that looks better than

The one you’re riding on and you swim for it.

The Sun’s shining and it’s a new day. You’ve been

treading just over board hoping for a circle or a raft

or better yet a ladder to climb back on board with.


Swim baby swim.  Relation-ship is the boat we all float on

The sea is fickle and you can either storm with the weather

or seek out the calm harbor, moor the ship and swim

together to the shore for a steady walk on the beach


The further out you go the more likely the ocean

will wave you around this way and that for fun.

You decide on how much fun or strife you want

It’s your damn ship after all and ya’ll choose

The kind fluidity you desire.


Go deep or stay surface.  I say, “Do both”.







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Mornin’… and today the morning sounds give to the garbage trucks making their way through the neighborhood.  Thank the Goddess that I threw out my ‘messy business’ and they are taking it away.  I put some emotional crap in that big old blue bin; betrayal, hurt feelings, expectations, old hurts, and dumped some more of my low self esteem and aging body issues in there to fill it right to the top.  “Take that too!”  I say I say.

I hear them taking it away and I’m feeling glad about it.  How crazy it that to be full of joy with the bang and clatter of the dump trucks?  “Begone you nasty negative thinking. Git you’re butt outta here.”


Betrayal gives a gift to

open arms with the heart

exposed in the wait for

loves flourish to enter


If not that it is a reminder

to remain open in that

state of care and sweetness

in welcome to the next possibility


Ward off the hard hit of

withdrawal to the sting of

perfidy that holds to amazement

the ache of yesterday’s wound


Allow the heart to hold to

the goodness felt before the

rupture bleeds out in wasted

longing unrequited


The feel good far out weights

the bruise of ego’s treacherous

mind games that lays raw

the glow of vulnerability.


When in the vulnerable tender

lives the open heart’s purity

of unconditional love struck

by the light ever lasting.


There is no betrayal there

Awash in the glow of pleasure

and care-fullness given freely.

Fear has no place in this place


Standing where you are

tingling with the gift of the

heart being open in the truth

that you are perfect love












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9 august 2012   … 22(the fool)/4/13… 


A fools day.  Not necessarily a Foolish day, tho’ it could be.  Maybe a day to feel the pull of a gentle risk, or explore the unexpected more deeply.  Allow the touch of some magic the appears to rise in you or around … Maybe… do something you have wanted to and were unsure of the outcome.   Jump.


The rain fills my senses.

settles into my body 

with pleasure and peace.

Happy for the Earth


The brain is full.

I place it on pause 

for the slow down.

hearing only the 

rain tapping on

the hungry Earth


It’s not melancholy 

that licks at my edges,

nor the jitter of what

lays in wait to come

around the corners.

A simple peace of light

glowing, expanding.


Letting in the call

of ancient times

of what has always 

been known rising again

giving sense to these times

held tight waiting for

the timeless to return.


I settle into the rain

filling my senses

Inhaling it all in

the gratitude of being

fully present in this moment





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and the poetics of the day…


Listen to the body speak

of it’s need, when the hard

lay down forces the moment

to pain and the ‘check in’ says

“Slow down.’

Body language is jabbing me

A steady pulse of bruised hurt

giving into the relax and let go.

Finding calm and pleasure

in a sweet connection cause

the stars are lining up just right.

Breathing in the goodness

Letting the Big Ouch have it’s time

till it passes and the Stars

praise with their Light.

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body parts

Ann Arbor Art Fair… last day… Weather report…Super Duper.  I walked most of it over a couple of days.  It’s still tooo big for me to inhale it all and not get ruffled around by the mass of people.  And oh so wonderful to see some great art.  Very impressive.  I bought a fake tooth that looks like a real tooth.  Yes…. I did.


Dan Banda… artist

my mother’s gold tooth

I like body parts connected or not

I know it’s a strange thing and

that’s just the start


It’s not like I want any body n’ gore

If your parts are connected

Please keep them they’re yours


It’s when artist they make them

in detached singular form

Fingers, n’ eyeballs, just not yours


I might hang them on chains

to wear around my neck

little sterling ‘parts’ so cute what the heck


I even have a vagina, oh yes I do

well made in fine silver

YOu might want one too


Perhaps I’ll collect them gather them all up

put them all on one chain

make a whole person up


In little pieces of metal, clay and bone

all gathered strategically

around my neck they will go


I know you’re all jealous of my little parts

I think to day if it feels right

I’ll wear Dan BAnda’s sterling heart






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