paint brush poet

beyond blue

2007-07-16T09:11:00.000-06:00

away and beyond
gone inward
seeing only blue
why don't you call?

85 Jeep Cherokee

2007-06-20T14:56:00.001-06:00

85 Jeep Cherokee

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My address is 85 Jeep Cherokee
I packed a few things
that had not been taken away
put in small boxes
you could tuck into corners
fit nicely behind wheels.

I am gone now
from prying eyes
I can park my home in wild places.

My day spent reading
books from the library in town.
Soaring in my mind to lands
I will never see.

No worry about material possession
concerns pared down
to food, being dry, and warmth.
time to think and wonder
is this the freedom I wanted
__________________

My New Mexico Vacation

2007-04-10T10:48:00.000-06:00

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When Spirits Murmur

2007-04-04T12:30:00.000-06:00

I was okay during the day
but at night
I could hear the spirits
in Chaco Canyon
murmuring quietly
on the vibration
in the air
on the land
visited by me.

At night
I lay huddled
in a cozy sleeping bag
under a rustling tent
only sticking my nose out
sometimes
but it was so cold
I didn't do it often.

When the sun was out, so warm-
I wandered through the ruins
wandered
wondered
walking quietly
feeling the sacred earth
beneath my feet.

New life

2007-02-16T14:56:00.000-07:00

I resigned from my benefited corporate job for the free life of the artist. Yes, that's right folks I left the politics behind as I have been threatening to do for months. I invested in a new computer and have been trying to learn how to operate it--no easy task although they say Vista is so simple and easy. I keep trying to make it complex.
I have been trying to get some structure so I won't always be sitting looking at the window at the snow blow by. It is getting better although at first I will admit I felt like a bird suddenly let out of a cage and didn't know where to fly.
When I learn how to operate the photo end of this deal I will post pictures, but for now I am only re-establishing contact with the outside world. I feel like I have been 'gone' for months, hey maybe I have been!

Let's all go Red! Red! Red!

2006-12-12T15:22:00.000-07:00

Here's how it works:1. You Click and search on something "red".2. TheFind.com gives. For every search on something that includes the term "red", they'll donate $1 to Doctors Without Borders.
C'mon. You know you need red. You cannot get ENOUGH!Red shoes.Red purses.Red cell phones.Red footie pajamas.Red electric guitars - stop singing into that hairbrush and GO for it!
This campaign will run until the goal of a $10,000 donation for Doctors Without Borders is reached -- according to Doctors Without Borders, a $10,000 donation provides 10,000 people with vaccinations for meningitis or measles.

So is this easy or what people?? Let's all find red stuff and give easy money to the people who are off their arses and into doing good!!
Paintola

Santa is a bit foggy

2006-12-06T11:17:00.000-07:00

Santa is a bit foggy this year
I can't quite see him
I'll miss him I fear.

It may be my vision
or maybe my heart
I can't find the spirit
gone from the start.

Onward you reindeer
without me please go!
I'll catch up I'm sure
by July 4th or so.

Who Invented the Wind?

2006-11-24T09:19:00.000-07:00

Blow!
Stop!
trees bend and crack
roofs fly like playing cards
hats dance down the street
hair turns upside down
children push against it
Who invented the wind?
made it more than a warm breeze
Who is this jokester?

Mermaid

2006-11-16T14:20:00.000-07:00

Smoke

2006-11-03T10:51:00.000-07:00

Reflection of my
in a broken window
on the only wall standing

terror
said my eyes
scream
captured.

they were
murmuringinacorner
opaque eyes
at me

light changes
seen through smoke
they once were
gowns from yesterday flutter.

Nacho Granny

2006-10-21T14:08:00.000-06:00

Nacho Granny
Turns her sweaterinside out
stead a washt
wears a ball cap
gray pony tail
with her town on itso
she will remember.
Legend is...she rode vaulting,
young girl
on a strawberry dapple mare
in Bailey's Circusflipping,
joyous
reaching for
tent peaks
hot summer nights.

Now granny makes nachosjalapeno?
concessionaire
for High School football
cackling to herselflost in memoryoh those tents,
that horsehotsummernights.

Smitten

2006-10-13T15:57:00.000-06:00

I am up for it
I will take the gamble.
I see your windswept eyes
I feel your glance.

Do not ask for my freedom
My checkbook
or too much time.

We can dance
brushing up against
capture.

I will love you today
conquer me not.

Painting: mr. and mrs. jones

Quiet

2006-09-29T14:45:00.000-06:00

rising dawn, red cries
pink chases ink across skies
night weaves plum wine lies

Anxiety is a phobia

2006-09-23T14:12:00.000-06:00

Nod to "Illustration Friday" I feel this way at work sometimes, don't you? Like I am biting at a bit--

Always

2006-09-21T12:31:00.000-06:00

always
faint whisper
sure as water
borne
on the wind-hisses on silver sweet wings
to the soul of man
always,

Revolution!

Indecision

2006-09-05T10:25:00.000-06:00

Unicorn,
charge willingly
to my side.

I will ride
unsaddled.

For I wish
protection
against
swirling mist
of indecision.

I step
fearful,
alone
unaware.

Platform Shoes

2006-08-30T15:16:00.000-06:00

I fell off my platform shoe and turned my ankle. I needed to be more careful, I knew these shoes could murder you. It was not too bad though, I thought I would be able to do my dance steps. I limped into the club, trying to flex the ankle as I went. I needed to check my make-up one more time before going out on the dance floor.

My boss was sponsoring a dance-slash- hairstyle show for the Poison Zapple Disco. My job was to look like and be part of the Kiss rock group wannabes. It was a cute routine with a nice flip in the air. The male model who was doing the flip was a body builder, so I was not worried about the move. I was looking forward to the feel of those strong arms, I thought with a smile.

What I worried about was my ex-husband, Josh, who I knew would never miss this. He used every opportunity to be a nuisance. He had never gotten over our divorce six years ago, and he was a serious stalker. Once I had to have him arrested for breaking in the backdoor of my house, he would not believe I did not want to see him. He was very drunk at the time. He was under a restraining order for a year after that. It scared him, although those warrants are usually not worth a crap. What does it matter if you are dead? I hoped he would not interfere with this show. Sighing, I checked the make-up, (very Kiss,) and went on to a photo shoot.

The club was full and the lights were flashing in the floor and walls. The music was deafening and exciting. I could feel the heavy disco beat throbbing to my toes. The disc jockey was high in the air in his tower, running the lights and music. There were big screens everywhere showing people having a good time. I was more than ready to go, all my nerves keyed up. I took a sip of my drink. I loved dressing up and dancing. We lined up and were ready to go at the signal.

I started to feel a little strange. Things started spinning. I felt like I was on a bad trip. My knees buckled and the last thing I remembered was being carried out by the bouncer, like a rag doll. They thought I had drunk too much. After I had thrown up a couple of times, I felt better. I leaned up against a car in the parking lot and held my head, which was banging in pain. I noticed I had thrown up on my platform shoes. They were black suede and would probably never be the same.

I was still not feeling too with it when my friend Jenna came out to see how I was doing.
“Are you going to be able to dance?” She asked
“I don’t think so, not without puking on Steve’s head.” I replied. “I feel pretty bumpy. I wonder what got put in my drink?”
“You think someone put something in your drink?” She asked incredulously.
I nodded, then grabbed my head. Ouch! That hurt. “I think it was my goofy ex.” I told her.

I wasn’t so sure about that, I hadn’t seen him all evening. I didn’t know what else to think. How could I have such a reaction so quickly?

I went back inside to watch the show. My part was being handled quite nicely by one of the group. I was checking out the crowd when I saw him lurking around the bar. It was Josh, trying to look like part of the scenery and look nondescript. Maybe I should call the police on him. He was pathetic and something inside made me hesitate. Why would he want to see me sick?

He didn’t want to see me in the arms of that model, I decided. Even though Steve was harmless enough. Nevertheless, to make me sick about it? Maybe kill me if I got a strong enough dose. I didn’t think he was that jealous. So why hang around? Did he get some rush from getting all full of rage?

I looked over to where my drink had been sitting on the table. Someone had picked up the drink and thrown it out. There was a big wet spot where it had been sitting. A real big wet spot. What was going on? I went over to my table for a closer look. I noticed something was dripping from the ceiling, right about where I had set my drink. Could it be what had made me sick?

Oh, My God! It was blood! I had been drinking blood! I did not know which was worse. Someone had been hurt and was bleeding, or I had drank the blood. My shrieks stopped the show cold. Everyone came running to see what it was. Bouncers took the stairs three at a time to get to the body or whatever.

I began to think, “Blood would not make me that sick.” Oh, I was one confused person. I felt woozy.

The police officer came over to talk to me. He said the body was beaten, but it was death by poison! If I had drank all the drink, I would have died! I sat down with a big thump. I could no longer stand on my shaky legs. I would fall off those darn shoes again. My make up had runs in it from crying. I’ll bet I looked like crap.

I had just been poisoned at the Poison Zapple. It was too much.

Dozer

2006-08-25T15:15:00.000-06:00

Snorting and bucking
the big yellow dozer
makes ready to work.
Blue Rock is coming up-
or down,
locals say-
gonna get a facelift
gonna get generic.

They're pulling down the old town,
juke joints
and the Elks Lodge.
"We'll make it look like Vale, Colorado!"
the contractors say,
counting their money
rubbing hands together.

There's talk around
town meetings
some think it would be
o so cool
to change the old town's
name to Glendale.
I can hear the founder
spinning

Starbucks is coming
Walmart too
Condos line the hills.
the old blue rock
yes the true rock
rolled downto the forest
marks the head
of ducky new bike trail.

Good bye to Blue Rock,
a town we all knew
and loved.

Tales from the Chicken Yard

2006-08-15T15:57:00.000-06:00

"The Chicken's Story" Oil on Canvas

The whole flock gathered

in the henhouse

after farmer Bill,

long asleep.

They played on the

gameboy

with their orange feet

that Red Rooster

had stolen

so stealthily

from farmer's son,

Jun-Jun.

After much cackling

and crowing

white chicken finally got to the next level.

Blue Rock Forest

2006-08-08T09:20:00.000-06:00

Looms large,
emerald green
at the west edge of town
Blue Rock Forest

breathes.

Centuries of twisted limbs
reach down sly, slow
to caress
the town's children.

At silver eveningtide
forest wails low
through ancient roots
for the moon.

Horses tell the tale
when they rear and plunge
no entry, stay back!
from the forest's dusky hall.

Priestess

2006-07-28T10:44:00.000-06:00

at the hour when all is forgotten
between the dark and the dawn

She leaves her slumber
steps out into the black night
with bare feet
to feel the vibration
of the earth as it turns
turns, turns
climbs to the top
of the rock the town
was named for.

Her white muslin gown
whips around her ankles
pain here,
caress now
snowy hair thrashing
its storm on her crown.

Arms raised, reaching
fingers stretch
to point in all directions.

Calm
calm in her mind
so she can hear
the voices of ancients.

She can feel
under her
lifting
standing in the light
unity for a moment;
opens green-blue eyes,
the town is healed
for a day.

Waiting

2006-07-21T15:43:00.000-06:00

I can't stop the rain
wouldn't want to.
been so dry
so long
I can't remember
when
we had puddles.

Midsummer

2006-07-18T10:09:00.000-06:00

Flowers
lift their face
to the sun.
They know
if we deny
summer
is on the run.

Haiku III

2006-07-15T10:18:00.000-06:00

"That wind took my Red Ribbon"
watercolor/craypa
they reflect my soul
paintings of pain and pure joy
brush led by spirit

My Claim to Fame

2006-07-08T08:17:00.000-06:00

This is as good as it gets, folks! Our name in lights at the Renegade Art Reception on July 2, 2006. It was an awesome reception, big turn-out; lots of good food and music. The artists were not at their best behavior, but hey! We all had a good time and are looking forward to doing it again. Congratulations to all of us and JOB WELL DONE!!

Tidal Wave

2006-06-29T10:25:00.000-06:00

You
with lunar pale skin
black hair
eyes like a stormy sea.

Me
freckles fall across
a nose, large
and proud
flamed frizzy hair.

We rose up against each other
like two tidal waves,
crashing
into rocks and other
hard places.

Until the sun set
in a blaze of crimsoned story
fighting the darkness
and each other.

Far away in another land-
two islands, quiet shores
we are
friends in peace.
__________________

Top Ten reasons I live in the mountains

2006-06-24T11:17:00.000-06:00

1. Whatever foul mood I am in I always feel better when I look out the window.
2. I would rather my son deal with wild animals than gangs.
3. The air smells like wet pine instead of car fumes.
4. I can get to work in five minutes.
5. I know everyone at the Post Office.
6. I can hear trees sing when the wind blows.
7. Every house has a view.
8. Its always good sleeping weather.
9. No air conditioning.
10. I look at the mountains and see God.

Star Boy

2006-06-17T15:35:00.000-06:00

He leaps in wonder
Hopes one day to fly
Into the hand of God.

The Stars are his companions
Many are they and bright
They whisper in his ear—

Star Boy
Star Boy
Stay with us tonight.

Campfire Ghost Story

2006-06-15T15:31:00.000-06:00

I watched the full moon go drifting from one side of my tent to the other. I loved camping and the long peaceful nights. I felt a part of the earth when I slept on the ground. It was a warm fall night in Palo Duro Canyon, Texas, just right for a sleeping bag. I turned over and admired the moon again; it must be about four a.m., judging by the moon’s position.

I heard a horse scream, clear and sharp in the pre-dawn air. It woke me fully as I had been dozing back and forth. I felt hooves reverberate on the ground below me, one solid thump, as you would imagine a rearing horse would make. The scream echoed out over the canyon, ending in a shrill whinny that left no doubt it was from a horse. Then all was very quiet, I could not even hear the owls and wild turkeys hooting and warbling in the bush, as I had before.

I lay and wondered if I had dreamed it. It seemed so real and clear to me. I fell back to a fitful sleep, dreaming about wild ponies thundering through the canyon.

The next morning I asked my camping co-hort, Tess, if there were any wild ponies in Palo Duro Canyon. “Not that I know of,” she replied, busy with making coffee. We had breakfast with me telling her of my experience the night before. She just shook her head at me, looking pensive.

We were on a photographing mission, taking shots for an upcoming show. After breakfast, I headed out to amble through the cactus and mesquite and look for likely subjects. I cut out behind the campsite, heading up the hill.

I came to a dead stop when I saw the hoof prints. “Tess! Come here and check this out, will you?” I called to her. She hurried up, knowing by the anxious tone of my voice that it was important.

“Mmm, that one could be a heel print,” she said, putting her heel in it to show me. “This one is definitely a hoof of some sort,” she pointed to one that had the weight coming down on the top of the print. My breakfast churned in my stomach, and I felt excited.

We discussed the possibilities for a while, and then decided to go for a hike around the dugout of Charles Goodnight. We found some beautiful pictures there of the dugout itself and the old cottonwoods growing around it. The dugout was made of very old timbers; some of the rafters were from Indian teepees. A fireplace in the back of it was no more that a hole dug in the earth with an adjoining hole in the roof for smoke. It creeped me out to think of someone living in the earth like that, would worms come through the wall?

As we looked around, we found the Historical Marker that explained about a Battle fought there. The Marker stated that Charles Goodnight had overseen the killing of the Indians there and stole their horses. However, there were fifteen hundred horses from the tribe and Goodnight only needed about five hundred. He and his posse had killed one thousand horses in the canyon.

I remembered the scream from the night before and felt the hair rise on my arms. It now seemed like a ghostly scream from a ghostly horse, under a full moon.

I Want a Cowboy

2006-06-09T08:21:00.000-06:00

Cowboy
Speaks quiet
Around waxed
Moustache.
Well worn clothing
Made of hide.
Stetson hat pulled low
Color of rain
Crusted sweat.
Voice
The open sky
Eyes
Bottomless river.

I want to go with him
Sleep on grassy range
Curled in his arms
Run wild with coyotes
Shiver and wail.
Feel alive.

Blue Door

2006-06-03T15:11:00.000-06:00

Tiny.
It was a tiny blue door.
Light exploded around the corners.
I tilted my head
Thought I heard the most beautiful music.
Bells and soprano voices called me.
I felt the most incredible compulsion to open...
I could only get my face in the small space.
The light was totally blinding;
my eyes hurt with trying to stay open.
I wanted to be there
I wanted to be inside.
I reached my hand in, felt around.
It felt very warm
I thought I could feel grass.
I determined to try harder to look inside.

After a supreme effort,
I willed my eyes to stay open.
The music became louder
the air even warmer.
I could see a place I had been
before in another time.
A place of love and peace.
I remembered it from before my birth.
I wanted so badly to be there again,
but I could not fit through the door.
The music faded, the light and warmth dimmed.
It was not my time.

Eating Frost- a winter story

2006-06-02T15:51:00.000-06:00

She looks cold with her arms wrapped around her chest. She is indeed underdressed for the season, even in a navy cable knit sweater and blue plaid wool shorts. On her feet were cream-colored knee socks and brown leather sandals. Her hair is carrot colored, wildly curly and in a long ponytail that goes to her waist. It is so thick it is like a man’s wrist at the base of the ponytail.
She looks incredibly sad, the corners of her mouth turning down and two big crocodile tears making silver tracks on her downy cheeks. She lays her forehead on the window. I wonder what the story is here. Does she miss a lover? Is she blue because the Christmas season is over? Maybe there was a much wished for gift she did not receive.
The wind blows, gusting past the window, causing the big pine tree to swish against the glass. Snow spits at her, some falling against the panes and melting. Frost etches a beautiful white forest on the thick old panes of glass. She sees the frost and began to smile, looking ten years younger.
Suddenly she notices me standing there. Her eyes begin to twinkle and dimples appear in the corners of her mouth. I notice that her laughing eyes are the emerald green of spring grass.
“Oh Reggie! Do you know what the best part of January is?”
“What, my darling?” I say, hoping she will say it is when I visit her.
She turned back to the window, and stuck out her long pink tongue. Laughing, she took a big lick at the glass.
“Eating Frost!” She replied.

Haiku II

2006-06-01T09:54:00.000-06:00

stamped upon my heart
whispering nightly in dreams
sweet scent of freedom

That old green bottle

2006-05-27T08:41:00.000-06:00

My pal at www.foodiefarmgirl.blogspot.com inspired me to tell a story about this green bottle.
When I lived on a small farm I found the most interesting things from the past owners. In the root cellar I found some enterprising drinker's stash of whiskey in the most beautiful old green bottles. My favorite is pictured here, when I found it there was some interesting funky brown stuff growing in the bottom.
My daughter, then 12, would not go in the root cellar because the ceiling was covered with snails. Unfortunately for her, this gave us ammunition to use against her. Sorry kid.

Regret

2006-05-26T09:35:00.000-06:00

Listen!
You can hear
Spirits hissing
in the living room.

Murmurs, whispering
Low, earnestly quiet

Is it all about me?
telling my life and
What
Should be?

Is it
Their story
Spirits of the cabin
Going over and over
What
They should have done
How they should, should, should.

Why they call this Wind River

2006-05-26T08:52:00.000-06:00

From my cabin I could hear the sound of the wind. But it wasn't the wind, as I soon found out. It was the roar of this river, filled to bloat with spring run-off. The weather people are predicting another season of drought in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, but it doesn't look like it according to this river. This river doesn't talk; it roars. Don't bother trying to talk or even yell over it--it has the awe inspiring power. Just stand there and absorb until you feel a part of it.

Don't tell my mother...

2006-05-24T12:36:00.000-06:00

But this is how I ate while I was on my weekend getaway. Very simple foods consumed without a lot of hassle. There is a lot to be said about being by yourself, and this picture is just one example. Not many dishes to wash either.
I think I am going to post pictures of the weekend. Then you can feel like you have been there!
I think this blog has been needing renewal too.
Paint

A day of serious contemplation

2006-05-21T09:38:00.000-06:00

Paint is having a weekend in this rustic cabin. It is time for renewal and contemplation. No TV, phone, pets, ex-husbands, teenage boys, needy friends. Just walking, taking photos, art, and writing poetry. My one regret is this is not my cabin. It is 100 years old with huge amounts of character. I think I may have scared some racoons out of the attic with my singing. I mean Jeese! I'm not that bad! I will be back soon, laden with new work and ideas. God Bless.
Paint

Mirrors

2006-05-17T15:52:00.000-06:00

Mirrors grace the walls
in the great hall no more.
They are put away
as the mistress hides
from her ever marching
journey to age.

No reflections
to watch her pass by
in vintage gowns
of yellowed satin and lace.
She will not have to see
the maps of life lived
on a canvas of sheer
blue veined skin.

Mom in the 1950's

2006-05-10T12:41:00.000-06:00

Habits are hard to break
Mom always fell in love
With bad boys and danger.
She lived on the periphery
Knowing that her life was not
What she read about in books.

Looked in the windows
Of women who 'got it right'
The ones in clean sweet homes
On carefully manicured lawns
With perfect, well behaved children
Who had good grades.

Mom wondered about the genteel
Delicate ladies who got flowers
on Mother's Day or Birthdays,
Pretty presents tied with ribbon.
When she might get a black eye
Or a hung-over man to tiptoe around.

She may have thought she missed
A life where she did not work two jobs.
Someone to take her on vacations,
Lovingly smile at her in church.
The life her mother told her
She should have and didn't.

Seven children in a pack
Running joyously in a small town
Nere a worry or a care
Except when grandma was coming
Or would we have fried chicken.
Surrounded by love, oblivious.

Happy Mother's Day Mom!
You deserve the best!
Love,
Your daughter

Tombstone Eyes

2006-05-04T15:10:00.000-06:00

On watch for the moment
an instant between
when a leap would be
possible
between this mortal experience
and the awareness of next.

O dissident heart!
in your piercings and pain
you know not my love-
no reflection to be seen
in your deathless tombstone eyes.

Haiku

2006-04-22T12:49:00.000-06:00

On Mary's nightstand

pictures of her nine kitties

whiskey, sleeping pills

Friend

2006-04-19T15:48:00.000-06:00

The cross
is not the story.
Nor the blood, flesh
or nails.

The Eyes that saw and wept
Tongue that spoke the Truth
Heart that knew us all
Spirit unquenched and alive.

Untouched by death
hatred
ridicule or pain
Glorious Easter!

Phantom

2006-04-12T14:42:00.000-06:00

When dark time tumbles
reeling drunken from the sky
now the pale circle of moon
makes shadows under
reaching arms of oak trees.
He goes to stand in high places
arms embracing the wind
a long black cape flutters
around his naked feet
and behind him like inky wings.
Teenage phantom
celebrates the night
into his own, alone.

Shoebox Full of Tears

2006-04-01T10:08:00.000-07:00

She wrote her tears
cached in a faded shoebox
that cradled her favorite heels
she once loved to dance in.

Folded pieces of white paper
smeared with inky phrases
stolen from caring eyes
hidden till she's gone.

By God's Wounds

2006-03-24T12:13:00.000-07:00

Heart conscious realized
Love is wrong.

Encapsulated scene
Sharing
Time and soul
Passion inferno
Furtive shadowed places.

Blood tears
Surrender
He is not yours.

Red Sand

2006-03-17T10:58:00.000-07:00

Red sand waits hissing
under the broken bones
Hungry waves from the tide
wash the blood away.

White parachute lay spread
like angel's silky wing
rise, blow upward
home to cobalt sky.

Who will mourn sky dancer?
mourn him not I plead
he who knew absolute
before his end was seen.

No Air

2006-03-01T15:34:00.000-07:00

I am drowned
in words
none to hear
or speak.
No air left
only a blanket
heavy
like rocks
your statement
"It's over."

Second Chance dream

2006-02-24T09:02:00.000-07:00

In my second chance dreams I am a spotted pony throwing my head up into the wind
smelling the trees
walking in the swishing golden grass that lays down when

In my second chance dreams I am a green beetle
hoping for a chance to get in your window
crawling on a flat yellow leaf on fragile legs taking a drink of

Dreaming I never hurt you for a mad moment with a pretty stranger who winked
and bought me a white russian
and told me I was

Really I did not ever know there were some things you did to those you loved
that cut so deep
you left me to learn that there are

Ode to a Cheese Sammitch

2006-02-22T11:17:00.000-07:00

Warm and tender
crunchy yet soft
salty and sweet
laid quietly at rest
on clean blue plate.

Whose lunch are you?
I whisper to olives
cheese sammitch waits
surrenders it's taste
sacrifice noble...repast.

Cheese sandwiches are not boring!!!
This is motzerella and tomato on pita.
A fine sacrifice and a darn good lunch!

href="http://technorati.com/tag/ Pete+Wells+Loves+Cheese+Sandwiches" rel="tag">Pete Wells Loves Cheese Sandwiches

Mickey da Boo

2006-02-19T14:38:00.000-07:00

Well folks there he is-contemporary photography style. I am jumping in on Weekend Cat Blogging. Mickey is four years old. He is a jittery kind of cat. He loves to hide under the covers, same as me, and he doesn't claw your thigh while under there either. He is mucho funo. Sometimes he runs into walls showing off for Ling. You'll see her later. Ta!

Cut outs

2006-02-16T09:40:00.000-07:00

Post card cut outs

stamps in a line.

Iden-tical faces

grocery store

magazines

blonde women

on parade.

The Periphery

2006-02-11T10:37:00.000-07:00

Locked in the periphery
of my mind
the truth sleeps
patient.

o I stay in a tunnel
warm and safe
protected
in my dream.

It will not stay hidden
becons from afar
reality
I am more than human.

Meeting Myself

2006-01-27T13:01:00.000-07:00

To slice off my ear
like Mr. Van Gough
would not make
me a painter.
To put my eyes
under my chin
like Mr. Piccaso
would not an
artist make.
Only to put brush
to canvas
put word
to page
put my soul
out for all
to see
then
an artist
I will be.

Painting: "Meeting Myself" by Sandra Coker acrylic on canvas

Nottingham Cemetery

2006-01-19T15:22:00.000-07:00

"I've been ten thousand miles
in the mouth of a graveyard"--Bob Dylan

I saw you there
with your black coat flapping
with your red eyes glaring
spittle flew from your foaming mouth.

I ran from the howlers
the bitchers
the crying children.
I screamed from the gutters
hid behind
tall
cement angels.

I saw the earth move
with a million silver clad worms.
Green clouds
bent trees
down the asphalt black
humanity hunkered down
wept for the loss
of innocent blood.

I awoke in Nottingam Cemetery
wondered about my tattered clothes
wondered about the dream
slipped away to my sanity
while ghosts
slept on.

Ah been tagged...

2006-01-18T11:22:00.000-07:00

Again. JDHiggens tagged me for Monday Meme. Here I am trying not to think today. I have decided to go on a low-carb diet and it has depressed me. So expect some weirdness. I am at this moment having a low-carb lunch, can I do this??? Anyway...

MeMe
Last live Music Concert: John Denver Tribute by Cowboy Brad Fitch (www.cowboybrad.com) It was very good, standing room only. Outdoors in a Performance Park with tall red rocks reaching for the sky.

Last CD Purchased: "IZ Live" Hawaiian Music. He is very spiritual and wonderful voice that calls me every time I listen to it. I recommend it for bad days.

Last thing cooked: Hamburger Helper, cheeseburger. No not for me, for my teenager, my habits are not that bad, but his are. In fact HE should have cooked it.

Last new thing eaten: Martha Stewart's Lime Shortbread Cookies. (and they are low-carb) Wonderful recipie out of her Baking Handbook I received for Christmas. It's a great cookbook by the way, lots of pretty pictures of food, utensils, and kitchens. I admire Martha because she came out on top of a difficult situation. About that shawl, however... So I gave away subscriptions to "Living" for Christmas to help support her. (Plus she gave neat calendars for subscribing, beside the point though)

Last gift received: A box of chocolate mints: Yum! But not low-carb. This was before the whole diet thing.

Last piece of clothing bought or received as a gift: A black velvet shirt, Yay!!

Last embarrassing moment: When I checked on my poem in William's poetry contest and nobody had voted for it...

Last totally new experience: Signing up for e-harmony. I swore I would never do it! Never say never. It is kinda cool though, and fun.

Last foreign country visited: Mexico and did I love it!! Awesome place but I would not want to live there! Wait a minute! Let me rethink this...my retirement dollars would go twice as far...

Last big acheivement: My photographs and poetry were accepted for an online literary journal out of LA. Exciting! I think they liked my contemporary photography more than my poetry, but hey!

So now you know a little bit more about mememememe
I tag Prosperity Sue, Tilda, and Scarletpeaches--
AWMondayMemes

Between Two Breaths

2006-01-13T15:21:00.000-07:00

I am not dying,
Only caught between
two breaths.
The world here is quiet
My mad scattering ceased.
Exactly in the moment
Feeling the world as it is,
Not as I wish it to be.
Creativity at its finest
Flying wildly and sweet
Sweeping me along
In joy or fury,
A sigh.
Time to return

Painting: "Screaming Man" print on paper by Sandra Coker

Morphie the frog

2006-01-06T14:22:00.000-07:00

liked the sun
turned him blue
didn't care
about his warts.

slept in a cave
jumped in cold water
a fine little frog
was he.

ate a big black bug
choked on the legs
catching breath
bulging eyes.

swore off insects
went vegetarian
seeds are for me!
a fine little frog
was he.

Radiance

2005-12-28T12:17:00.000-07:00

To be radiant
or to see
Is it the same?

gray

to be gray
or to see
not the same.

Phosphorus
or black and white photo
what to be today.

Balance

2005-12-17T15:08:00.000-07:00

She teeters precariously
balancing on heels
way too high.
Her hair is too long
Her skirt too short.
Red hat
Lipstick hot.
Sexy at fifty.

Longing for love

2005-12-16T09:42:00.000-07:00

Roge looked to the sky for the answer
Longing for love was he.

Imagine his total surprise
When God's answer came to be.

If you are Ray, Joanne or Thumper--You are tagged!
Use this photo as a prompt for a 2 paragraph statement/story or
2 stanza poem.
AWMondaymemes on Friday!

Misplaced Reindeer

2005-12-10T08:49:00.000-07:00

Santa misplaced his reindeer
Or was it his evil twin?
He was sliding down the chimney
When they took off again.

Standing on the rooftop
Cursing out the stars
Wondering if they would return
Or had they flown to Mars?

At dawn he found the beasts
Sipping martinis down at Joe's
With all the third shift workers
That's just the way it goes.

So what about the children?
Waiting snuggled in their beds.
Will they get no Christmas?
Or is it just in their heads?

No trains or dolls to play with
No great books to read
No mixers for mama
No ties for daddy's need.

Santa grabbed all the reindeer
"To rehab you must go!
Messing around with Christmas
Is the lowest of the low!"

The reindeer now are sober
And with a jingle of their bells
Are ready for next Christmas-
That's all the story tells.

Dec 5 Monday Meme

2005-12-09T10:24:00.000-07:00

From Dawno:

AWMondayMeme: December 5
Dawno’s first AW Monday Meme: Feeling rather holiday-ish tonight I thought the first AWMondayMeme should be: what are the 10 books or sets of books you most wish you could find under/beside/in your {insert appropriate holiday decor/object}?Get creative - whether it's a signed first edition or a illuminated manuscript, anything goes!

Now you have went and done it Dawno--I'm gonna have to think!! I was so happy slugging along, being lazy. To pick out 10 most wanted books is like being a kid in a candy shop! But anyway...

1. Steven Kings book "On Writing" I actually bought this book for my mother, so when I told her I wanted a copy for myself this Christmas, she said "You can have mine someday." Sigh...

2. A new Sylvia Plath. I already have the collected works, but still want more.

3. "Hattie, Get a Haircut!" I have been wanting this one for myself for a while, but guess who I buy for last.

4. "Weight of Water" by Anita Shreve. One of my favorite 'books of all time.'

5. Hard copy "Shipping News." See # 4.

6. I liked JD's suggestion of a collection by William Haskins. I hope he gets on the stick and puts one out.

7. One dozen copies of "Stories of Strength" to give away to loved ones

8. Any book by Oprah, except the diet one.

9. "Atlanta Nights" I plan to buy this if Santa doesn't bring it to me :-)

10. Deepak Chopra's latest book I don't know the title, but I have several, so it has to be the newest!

Yay! That was easy!

Tag: Scarletpeaches; Rosemerry; and Spookywriter

Please add the tag below to the bottom of your meme so it will appear in the list of tags:
AWMondayMemes

When Trees Change Places

2005-12-04T10:37:00.000-07:00

Night falls
all is black

When trees change places.

Tickling each other
with feathery boughs
sighs to breathe
songs
on the wind.

With a courtly bow
a dance
begins to whirl
as leaves fall
in the frenzy.

Morning tips its
pink from blue
the trees are still
till night is black
again.

The Reflection

2005-11-27T09:11:00.000-07:00

upon reflection
in mirrors dreary fog
a glimpse of tears
on downy cheek.

Cold blood runs down
from neck to arm
I hang waiting
watching
for deaths last breath.

my love--now gone
my love--insatiable.

welcome numb

2005-11-17T11:26:00.000-07:00

Seeking Destruction
welcome clutches
of addiction and pain.

Dark lonely places
siren song of numb
stabs from shadows.

Mind skitters aimlessly
one compulsive thought
feeds another.

Hopeless and lost
I teeter close to the edge
only to fall, spinning

Beg

2005-11-06T08:30:00.000-07:00

Mustangs
beg to be free
locked in
two hundred acres
a raging thirst
have they.

They watch
man and his truck
suspiciously
with reason
now the rope
takes them away.

Mustangs
kick and scream
mightily
ransom paid
in flesh
so others live.

Bones

2005-11-04T14:14:00.000-07:00

Turn,
so she can see
in the mirror
the curve
of her backbones
sticking out so fine.

Smile.
She admired her thinness
turning again
heads
for the porcelain goddess
to lose lunch
once more.

the red mirror

2005-10-28T13:23:00.000-06:00

In the middle of the desert there was a great mirror. It was as tall as the pyramids. It had been left by strange beings, it was told. Shazar fell off his camel when the reflection from the mirror blinded him.
Shazar, a young boy who had just learned to ride, quickly got back on the camel. He was blinded in his right eye and it bothered him greatly. Even with this he was concerned about looking important. He tried to look around. He glimpsed the reflection again. With his good eye, Shaz peered into the tall mirror. Inside he could see a foreign looking city, unlike anything he had ever seen on earth.
Vertigo gripped him as he looked deep into the heart of the red city. Streets, and sky alike were red. The people (people?) that walked around were red, all dressed in red. A young woman strolled by, looking at him like she could not really see him. He wondered if she were looking at herself in a mirror there. She put up a red hand and pushed back her red hair.
Suddenly Shazar was gripped with the need to destroy the mirror. He reached up to his saddle and took out his sword. Swinging it with his full force he hit the mirror on its ground level.The air was rent with a screaming wail like he had never heard. The shatter was tremendous and rolled across the dunes in a shimmering echo. The force of it all knocked Shazar to his knees. He recovered slowly lowering his hands from his eyes.
His camel was red. He was red. The sand was red. All around was red everywhere. Shazar stood up and shook red sand and mirror shards out of his clothes. He rode his camel across the red dunes to his tent. No doubt it was red as well.
__________________

Mythic Battle

2005-10-21T12:56:00.000-06:00

Witches and warlocks
great hairy beasts
Vampires and dragons
sleeping at feasts.

Holographic skies
Volcanos great blast
Haunted ships
with broken mast.

Kittens and puppies
with distorted eyes
Children throw thunder
battles are lies.

Am I in a dream?
or am I just mad
Only his trading cards
O I'm so glad!

Note to "Dub-ya"

2005-10-16T10:31:00.000-06:00

God Speaks to George W. Bush:
'Take a Hint' by BILL MAHER
Mr. President, this job can't be fun for you any more. There's no more money to spend--you used up all of that. You can't start another war because you used up the army. And now, darn the luck, the rest of your term has become the Bush family nightmare: helping poor people. Listen to your Mom. The cupboard's bare, the credit cards maxed out. No one's speaking to you. Mission accomplished. Now it's time to do what you've always done best: lose interest and walk away. Like you did with your military service and the oil company and the baseball team. It's time. Time to move on and try the next fantasy job. How about cowboy or space man? Now I know what you're saying: there's so many other things that you as President could involve yourself in. Please don't. I know, I know. There's a lot left to do. There's a war with Venezuela. Eliminating the sales tax on yachts. Turning the space program over to the church. And Social Security to Fannie Mae. Giving embryos the vote. But, Sir, none of that is going to happen now. Why? Because you govern like Billy Joel drives. You've performed so poorly I'm surprised that you haven't given yourself a medal. You're a catastrophe that walks like a man Hoover was a #####ty president, but even he never conceded an entire city to rising water and snakes. On your watch, we've lost almost all of our allies, the surplus, four airliners, two trade centers, a piece of the Pentagon and the City of New Orleans. Maybe you're just not lucky. I'm not saying you don't love this country. I'm just wondering how much worse it could be if you were on the other side. So, yes, God does speak to you. What he is saying is: 'Take a hint.' -- The closing comments on HBO's "REAL TIME WITH BILL MAHER

Survivor's Song

2005-10-07T10:31:00.000-06:00

Running scared
Hiding successfully
Feeling apprehensive
Looking out.

Do I?
Should I?
Keep him safe
When he does not seek it?

Would he hate
Harbor resentment?
Maybe to hesitate
Take a gamble.

Watching doorways-

Enemy voices
Sleeping lightly
Wait uncertain.

Born to Fight

2005-09-27T14:30:00.000-06:00

Some days are just like this, you know. When I did this self portrait of a woman with her chin up, I was pregnant. The doctors said I may have been too old to have another child, but he is nearly fourteen today. Well, so much for that. People are always telling you what you can and cannot do. It really is up to YOU what you do. You make the decision and then carry it through.
It takes courage to go against the crowd. It takes willingness, faith, and determination. I had the child. I moved across country and started a new life. It is good. You can do it too.
All over the United States people are starting over. People who thought their life was a disaster. It was. The hurricane sent a whole nation of poverty stricken people to a new life and new opportunities. Children are being given a new chance to have a good life. There are parents with their chins up just like this woman. They will succeed. I know it because I have been there.
Oh, the drawing is cray-pa on black mat board. The fight was my own. Peace.

2005-09-14T13:34:00.000-06:00

OMEN

Native americans saw disappearing buffalo
Omen of things to come
Helpless in their plight
A mighty battle fought.

We see global warming, animals extinct
No omen is beheld.
Busy in our consumption
Ignore cries of tired land.

Mother nature, her power complete
Will take it back one day.
Grass, trees and animals rule
Man returned to caves.

2005-09-14T11:54:00.000-06:00

HAMMER

When daddy used the hammer
Us kids all ran and hid.

Maybe it was the cursing
Could have been the beer.

Woe to the little ones
They never seemed to know

If he hit his finger,
Who would be the first to go.

Just a little ditty about my childhood. I am feeling very up and down. Can you tell? It may be all this negative imput about New Orleans. I feel that the people who are doing the 'real work' there (handing out food and cleaning babies) are very courageous. Better than the never ending circle of politicians (in office and in recliners) who do nothing but point fingers. It is discouraging. No wonder I am writing poetry about hammers.
As you can see I am still arguing with this blog about getting links up. Is this so hard?

Stories of Strength

2005-09-02T14:29:00.000-06:00

Greetings today! I have been in a writing frenzy! I'm trying to get a story and a poem out for an analogy. A group of writers (www.absolutewrite.com) I belong to are putting together a book that proceeds will go to the Red Cross (100%). It will be called "Stories of Strength. " It's what we can do for our fellow people in New Orleans. God help them all. So anyway watch for our book on www.lulu.com. Someday I will get my stuff together and post some links...for now Ta!

This is what I do

2005-09-01T12:55:00.000-06:00

So what is it? It is an assemblage. I enjoy putting 'found objects' together and calling it art. Titled "Secret Door." This is how it works...
My daughter is having a garage sale. She has some old old wooden boxes. One of the boxes has a removeable top. Lightbulb!
I see a piece that could be used for a tabletop or a wall hanging, etc. Meanwhile at my day job I have collected all kinds of unique items. I let my muse go.
So this was fun! Now what? I decided to make it an installation piece. I bought some pea gravel, placed the piece on the floor and surrounded it with about four inches of gravel on all sides. It looked really neat that way! I put it over in a corner of the gallery so no one would kick it. After that I wrote a poem about it. So it has been really versatile and fun. I even took a bunch of pictures like this of it, details, and they have turned out well too. I will probably frame some of them up as contemporary digital pieces. So you just never know when the muse is going to hit you up the side of the head! This time it was at an every day garage sale!
Have a good day and Happy September!!

Trying...

2005-08-31T09:59:00.000-06:00

Hey! I'm just learning here! So cut me a break okay? I want to try it all out. Maybe you came here expecting a poem so--
(I'm about color)

There once was a girl from Nantucket
She taught her dog to spit in a bucket.

Her mother said "Go!"
Her father said "So..."

I think you can figure out the rest.
Keep writing...
pbp