envelopes and pages

catching up journal pages 2010

Happy St. Nicholas Day

World Aids Day

How Long?

Happy Fall

Happy Fall

Muddy Pass

The birds
would eat out of
my hands
unafraid.
The blue so sharp
it hurt my eyes.
Foxes weaving
mice through
the camp.
All night
the stars fell.
Has anyone
seen....

Talking to my Mom

Perdita

When you find her
let me know.
Is she wandering
along the reedy
shore
head down looking
for pieces of
her broken necklace.
See if she will come
when you call her,
or if her milky eyes
turn away.
Is she lost among the stones
at the dark edge
dragging one shoe
her hair a tangle of leaves.
Her fingers twist a
muddy knot
waiting
to come home.

Lotteria

Hard Shadows in November

You should be dead

to haunt the living

the empty chair at my table

the meals I eat alone.

The candle flickers

from a whisper

unheard by anyone

but me.

It is the emptiness you leave

the open space

in my heart

where the rain falls in .

The vast expanse of the Arctic

bedclothes always

cold.

The laughter unechoed

the thought held and

worried smooth by silence.

Migration

When birds become blind
do they
reconstruct the sky?
Blue piece by
blue piece.
Puzzling over
a forgotten horizon.
Lost in a memory
of flight.
They sigh
small heartbreaks
escaping their cages.

Sparking

How I long to see

the electricity

spring across

the tops of the

pine trees

like masts at sea.

To hear the hum

of the northern lights

and face the closeness

of the stars as

they whistle down

upon us

to light up

your smile

The Last Time I was There

So the last time I was there
it smelled like rain and damp
the black and white tiled hallway
clogged with old cooking gas.
Once it was home
down the stairs to the haunted apartment
the found note once hidden in a back of a drawer
"i can't stand it any longer"
folded into a fortune sized slip of paper.
The low ceiling jungle
overgrown with dripping Victorian plumbing
filled with the wails of nearby sirens and claustrophobic dreams.
I was drowning below the line of the sky
my face covered with your rage.
Until one day my lungs so full of sadness
I could no longer breathe.
I broke the surface of your madness
and fled into the street.
Everything I had in my hands
was all I owned.
Washed up on the shore in the striking sun
learning to walk upright
I imagine my footprints scorching the cement.
leaving marks as I turned away.

Fractured

Aren’t the most lovely things broken and flawed?
The diamond is born under pressure,
its’ beauty only revealed after cutting and polishing.
The gentle crazing of memory around the eyes
A map of all our smiles and tears.
How dull and flat the shine of new things
Only through time we see true worth.
The sea shell whorls slowly
The tree moves imperceptibly towards heaven
The days we sift through
The years we remember
The moments so small as to be forgotten

My Favorite Pattern

So in about 1974- I had my sister make up this pattern up for me in about

every granny dress combo possible - i loved it

So does LA street artist turned fine Artist Becca

She has a show at White Walls gallery this week end

Happy Birthday Pablo

"Love is so short

Forgetting so long"

Secret Wings

Happy Birthday America

Dreaming of Flying Again

"A Prayer for the wild at heart

That Are Kept in Cages"

Tennesse Williams