a little fun or something, Poetry

resolutions

looking back over the year

I marvel at the resolutions I’ve kept.

eat more chocolate: check

talk about joining a gym: check

laugh heartily at myself for talking about joining a gym: check

comment on the unseemly passing of time at least one million times: check

tell significant children in my life I can’t believe how much they’ve grown then grimace as I remember how much I HATED that: check

promise myself I’ll eat healthier tomorrow: check.

And now I’m driving, pondering if it’s even remotely possible to improve this list, but all I’m hearing are the wheels turning.

you got me again you re-indefatigable resolutionary revolutions you.

then my coffee spilt as I hit that bump darn it.

I was hoping I could stop missing you…

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Poetry

origamied

The words of sages

supposedly wise supposedly.

 

Ancient repackaged as new.

 

The air choking with nuances amiss and/or askew,

complacencing my view.

 

The forest floor

thickening under my feet

as I run. (Is this running?

maybe walking. maybe crawling.

maybe breathlessly clawing.)

 

The impact

folding me in

until I’m sure I can’t be folded

any more.

Cutting in all those places

I don’t want to be cut.

Of course.

 

Living in hope

of being taken out of this drawer

and being in the understanding.

in the unfolding…

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reblog

days by numbers

I so love Steve’s work!

inconstant light

storied glass and steel

Three ghosts are in the hall. On the cable
internet outside, two currawongs are pecking,
but the mysteries of past and present,
of calendars, dates and numbers are best
left for numerical processors.

When time was thick and sweet and I couldn’t breathe,
when you wept and left me wondering,
when the blue of clouds and day was painted
on the land to resist the night’s temptations,
I could start six lines and finish them,
know what I’d just said and order wine.

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personal, Poetry

that scene in edward scissorhands we watched last night you know the one that reminds me of wordpress

the scroll and the screen

the drip from the downdream

picking right in my mainstream.

the gasp (of suscitation)

evicting asphyxiation

ironic mis-mutation.

Did I mention I love snow?

  • Praying and wishing you moments, and more, of peace and beauty this holiday season (without any nasty plot twists at the end) from a very grateful heart.
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General bewilderment

Sunshine Blogger’s Award

Well Blogosphere, you never cease to amaze me. Yesterday I was surprised by the honour of being nominated for the Sunshine Blogger Award by Georgia Park. I can’t express how humbled I feel that this one came from someone with such obvious talent and such an inspiring story. Thank you Georgia. Really…

And I’m on vacation right now, visiting in-laws and only using my pretty crappy little phone (please don’t try to avenge that comment, phone), so this will be rather no frills, shall we say.

Continue reading

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reblog

Poesy plus Polemics

vicissitudes “Vicissitudes” by Delia Dante

was a time
youthful calculus
plotted the changes
of infinitesimals
bent to the influent
arcs of trajectory
functional points
differentially aimed
at a future
some semblance of
personal
private success

was a time
before octadic bits
became bytes
of electrons
when slide-rules
were moved
by an analog mind
with derivative
notions of
how to conduce
a pragmatic
perfectible life

was a time
of naïve disposition
unwary that life
has its own
independent volition
it moves along
unforeseen paths
unexpected directions
unknown destinations
its integral quotients
converging in
arrant surprise

was a time
many miles many years
of organic mathematics
divide the incipient
dream from its destiny
tangent adventures
oblique with
vicissitudes exercised
muscles of character
standing a man
the boy never
could know

now is time
for brash inverse
of theorem
for certainty summed
by survival of scars
earned contentment
despite analytics
a fortune of memories

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Vicissitudes

Quote

img_20150321_185030179

O write us some air

you’re the prism one

refract us a dream tonight

for we’re all in the mood

for Heal’s melody

and you’ve got us feeling

personal, Poetry

ever so grateful you blogging dream weavers you

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sam_0731

“They I said it wouldn’t happen again,

this flooding”

a sight not to be seen for another __ years.

“My ears filling with expert voices

trapping the scurrying feelings

insecting in the inescaping

infecting the elucidating”

nourishing the swell

between us –

your eyes telling me

under the indiscriminate trees.

Which are as beautiful within the flood as without.

smiling in the sudden illumination…

Poetry

come sit with me dear friend

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