Der Wanderer bin ich nicht

Ich gehe auf die Erde
ein wenig wie alle andere
leise und stille
ohne Macht zu suchen.

Ich freue mich uber
meine Kinder und Enkelkinder
dass sie uberall sind -
sie gesund und lebhaft tanzten

Ich bin eine Wanderin -
aber weiss noch immer
das Gluck ist ja - hier
wo ich bin, nicht da drüben.

(In an answer to "Der Wanderer" )

Around the world...

In our little village house
quietly on the first floor
or
second one to some people
I just Skyped my beloved
of
so many years in the States
and asked him to call our son
on
the dot on the other side
of the antipodes- in Australia
via
Skype to then call me here
in the little town of Languedoc
shock
my father would have been in awe
of this technical evolution
an
amazingly fantastical spree
of human endeavour and wit
it
is a grand leap of ballet
alas our son is not available
cable
from my hubby in form of a text
I now can go happily to bed.

(Thanks to POUL)

For the Danes

What is it having a nationality?
Is it a language?
Is it a culture?
Is it having a country somewhere?

Yes to all those and more,
you see, the Danes have a Royal family!
Though it is an irrelevant institution
in today's world of presidents
dictators and whatnots
I think many people who are Danes
will tune in from all over the world
for the first time to hear
the Queen's new years speech
because now we can!
For the first time the Danish National Radio
a very powerful monopoly
will not block the emission.
Therefore, you will find me
at my laptop tomorrow eve somewhere
listening in -
she speaks a beautifully Danish
She is part of our culture
and she is our head of a state.

(According to Oprah we are the Happiest
people on Earth- go figure)
((Apologies galore, this is not a true
poem - just an immediate, intermittent thought))

Good writing comes once or twice

Sometimes you read a book
or two - both earth scattering
the one a totally off-beat one
about a young girl and how she
fell into being a terrorist
not by herself of course but
by somebody who recognized
her moods for what it was
a lack to belonging
a missing out on love
brilliantly written
with all the newness and
slang of the young ones
viewed from the sidelines and
from inside.
The other opus was just
a chilling analysis
of four financiers around
the world crack - such power -
scary - when it is happening
again and again and again.
The last book took the author
ten years to create -
Lucky to have read both
too bad the exhilaration
of reading such good stuff
only comes onces or twice a year.

(Reading: Apocalypse bebe and
The lords of Finance.)

Same old stuff

Reading a book about the young uns'
the drug culture of Europe
of how sex and waywards teens
try to make sense of their world -
is it different from mine?
I know I was protected
in more ways than one
maybe naive - perhaps I avoided the trap
because I knew that if I gambled
I couldn't stop - if I drugged
I wouldn't be able to stop
granted I still have a vice or two
but who hasn't
if you didn't I'd worry
then you would not be human
and I claim to be one.

Every day in the village

Ten o'clock in the morning
I am still sitting in my pj
it is a different lifestyle
it is a relaxed, boring day
where anything can happen
earth scattering, or not
a heart attack, a chance meeting
a walk, solve the Gordian knot
whatever it may bring
of good tidings or bad
I shall cherish it forever
because it is a day to be had.

Decisions - New Year??

What good does it do
when you turn into the other you
and change into strange forms
nothing to the current day "norms"
we know that their range
flips like stocks on the exchange
each median is preferred
although I truly wish I deferred
a behavior is detrimental
to myself - a change transcendental
is needed to become who I am
a wise mature, not crazy,a funny femme.

Taste or no?

The deserted almond tree hangs heavily
with its oblong fruits of lore
to a non botanically inclined
it looks like somebody forgot the almonds
but knowing that there are two kinds
the edible ones and the bitter ditto
it is possible that they are the poisonous ones
Although walking along the almond alley
it is tempting not to pick some of the fruits.
They lie all over the trail, just like the
olives that are now black and if you try
to munch on them they taste horrible.
A fault of nature? Or like herbivores
we should take care what we eat.
Strange emotions going along this trodden
wintry blazing morn seeing so clear
the mountains from afar - a moment
where the earth, wind and fire bred
water in the mouth - yet I resisted
and only dreamt of those coming before
and those coming after - a Faustian moment
almost - it was too cold for that.

Pompei's ruins

Money siphoned suspect
from maintenance every day
so the House of Gladiators
fell due to neglect,
said the old curator.
On the UNESCO list
of worthy antiquities
rather than saving the decay
dig down - find newsworthy stuff
who cares about what we have!
This is an attitude - enough
of infamous lackadaisial apathies
from the authorities of Rome
what if is were St Peter's dome?

A Yule -wish

The yuletide was here - everything in place
except the spirit - she was not in the mood
she was anything but - tomorrow it would come
these festive days of family and friendship
yet something was missing this time
and Vigga the Volva wanted so badly for it
not to materialize - like another tide
where somebody else's spirit left the earth
she was not usually praying
but this year she almost wished
she could - wait until the new year
to join the brigades of all who went before
cause so many were dependant in some way
stronger than any of the clan -
due to free flying ways with no strings
and yet - she mused we all have these
strange wondrous ties swirling around
our utterly egotistical egos
wherewithall we bind ourselves to
our free-for-all chosen friends
or for better or worse our families
whom we cannot choose in any way.
A Bergen-Belsen prisoner-of-war
was equally thin to our dear friend
fighting beyond - the doctors warrant
no more can be done - unless a miracle
and who truly believe in those
once you have gone through a lot of time
Vigga the Volva groaned inwardly;
no prayer - just action of some oddball
genetic function of medicine
plus the patient's belief to be better
although we all know which way
we are happily going towards
and whether death was a he or a she
or an it - it was for every gene
the only possible outcome of life -
consequently she bowed to the great mother
and said these slim, slender words,
Please do not let him suffer needlessly
and let him expire when the sand
in your glass runs out - although
she smiled through tears
her friend would probably had put it -
let me go when the last drop
of the gorgeous mellow red wine
has run through my throat
and I have savoured it fully.

French food

Why do the Americans rarely cook
with spirits and wine
but use sugar and starch
when the job could be divine
food should be an art
we eat and we depart
food and fun entwine
surely by hook or by crook.
The French have a la carte
it is now truly enshrined
on the intangibles dines
just look at their design
for simple calorie chart
it may not go by the book
but oh how it tastes sublime.

More on toes

Wine drinking "a l'ancienne"
will do bad things
if you forget to drink water
it will hurt - bing.
Whatever you do swallowing
that beauty of Faugeres
be sure cleanser is following
"old time" gout can you impair.

Triple sec!

Triple occasion to celebrate
400 years ago - today
winter solstice
full moon
lunar eclipse
full of mysteries
Triple occasion to celebrate
100 years from now
again it will happen
to be alive
on this day is a gift
full of enjoyments
Triple occasion to celebrate

Toetally Holiday Time

An infected toe hurts much
so instead of a productive night
I spent it with foot in water
in front of the telly -
just when I needed to run around
and prepare for Christmas
So whatever will be it will
be a toetally holiday.

Your wish my command!

Lasagna, mama, would be nice
ok what else for tonight?
something easy for dessert?
a sweet and juicy concert
consisting of apples galore
a spirit blend for the corps!
so dinner has to be started
whether or not tried uncharted!

Angels in the Village

There are angels all over
but most of all in our village
people care - they mind
they are just one of a kind.
Their good deeds glow
warmly, snugly, a silage
holiday spirits intertwined
with jolly local wines!

Her majesty our dog!

Shopping with daughter exhausting
nothing fitted either of us
we tried - we laughed - we (almost) cried.

We did get one item - for the dog
four little shoes for her cold little feet
for her morning walk when it is too cold
and she refuses to go more than one house away.

Great success - two adult women could not
put one shoe on the bitch
she only wanted to rip it and them apart.

Just like us she did not like the fit
and we had a big discussion
whether they would be pink or purple
to lessen the embarrassment factor.

She just got herself four new purple chews
and not for her cold feet - four new shoes
did not get approved by her majesty!

A hand in it all

Serious interlude at the hand specialist'
A violinist couldn't play the instrument
due to overuse, bad playing schedule
and just plain mismanagement -
another broken arm in soccer a young girl
whose dreams of popping the ball went haywire
a guy who was one of those charmers
that you just had to see in action to know
that he was like silly putty, you could never
hold him down - under no circumstance
come to find out that due to his wife's disease
he is actually trying to care a lot.
Another who had Lyme's disease and arthritis
tried hard to do what the specialist required.
The latter's story was also interesting
both she and her brother got involved
in trying to soothe anybody's hands
due to their mother's terrible fight with
arthritis and hopeless situation.
We are what we grow up to become
nothing more nothing less - amazingly simple,
something so easily picked up most handily!

Today December 9

Today is the day in math
when my son is half as old as I am
or I am double his age
it will never happen again.
Strangely wonderful
or oddly horrible
but anyway - Lots of thoughts
to the day I became a mother
and I was finally a grown up!
A memorable thought
an accounting moment!

The eon's wonder

Strange interludes
on emails - ( an aside) could have been snail mail
meetings between trips and what-nots
(another aside) photos reminds us of "ancient" meet
here and there from one end of the world to the other
(a third aside) two thoughts almost simultaneously
without even realizing that two souls are interconnected
(a final realization) just relaxing
in time - in space - on earth - in the fourth dimension
standing talking in water one summer's day
chattering away in a park somewhere
Nothing more wonderful.

Frosty freedom

A wondrous winter day somewhere
where everything was seemingly calm
and joyful and bountiful
the bare trees swayed lightly
in the frosty frigid wind
the people walking put up their coats
scarves and hats were well worn
sheltering their bare spots of flesh
only the front part - noses
eyes and not even mouths nor ears
let alone a bare head with hair or not
were showing - they could all have been
from another culture - another world
and at that moment in time it was ok
to shelter yourself - opposite summer
where most from the western world
would cry wolf if they saw somebody
decked like themselves on a cold winter day.
An utilitarian utopia - where everybody
must be more of the same...

Santa's Washington Refrain

Hey - ho - hey ho
tax-cuts for the rich - no go
blackberry's and diamonds and Veuves Cliquots
Hey ho

WikiLeaks!

WikiLeaks - class act or not?
An informed public - is that better
or worse than an uninformed one?
Why pursue the messenger
when it is really the message
somebody is not sending!

To inform is to educate
and to educate is to know
without wisdom and knowledge
how can we now exist?
We have turmoils and twists
plus dictators and whispers!

I'd rather have more info
and the right to be in the know
I will wage you that even
when people can download leaks
there will not be revolution
but outrage and then pause.

Evolution and truth deserves
a life of its own - to leak
or not to paraphrase is the question
but I'd rather see honesty
and transparency in vogue
than irresponsible ignorance.

(Not really a poem - just a
virtual wiki thought!)

A somewhat Christmassy poem

Where have I been today
out and about - inside my hide
doesn't matter either way
I exist I breathe I fly
on my imaginary wings of late
my dreams are not a waste
but help me keep me sane
humor is about being humane
If I cannot laugh of my self
I would not believe in Santa's Elf.

Ensenhamen

Lessons in courtly behavior
is needed even more so today
it makes you a pure engraver
because you are your fellow
that's all - tweet - hello!


(Trying to tweet as well as instruct)

My view of burlesque

A picaresque burlesque
Thi's the humanity's dossier
of seedy costumes fun part
wriggling, dancing away?
but a grotesque burlesque
meat and boobs on display
smokey rooms and bars
a cannery of instant replay
a certain Kafkaesque burlesque
with the thirties cabaret
little interest in their art
their patrons' drinking convey
Romanesque burlesque
Dreams of going to Broadway
the reality of a la carte
oft a sleazy ending to a soiree
alas no statuesque burlesque
some people make it ahead
whereas many do not take part
in the dream lights but drop dead
a masked carnival burlesque.

(inspired by "Burlesque" and
Gypsy Rose Lee")

Poor humanity

Rape and mayhem of the world
are statistics to some
to others a pure reality
somewhere it's a repercussion
of the way people interact.
When they want control
over others - men they shoot
women they just rape -
and then make the men children
into forced kid soldiers.
At home it happens too
more frequently than you think
in the "enlightened" society
domineering others
to the nth degree -
manipulation of the brains
and the sexual organs -
fellow man, woman or child
in the name of for your own good
a vicious terrible circle
is commenced or continued.
Humanity is so inhumane!

(To comment Eve Ensler's report
of rape in Congo)

Le pauvre President!

You are a paedophile -
intended wording - puerile.
The difference assured
under stress - endures
Sarkozy's presidential gaffe
a not-so-lucky epitaph.

Totally weird post

A voice of a different tone
wrote and a whole life bemoaned
away from grief and exposed
himself in a weird prose
defensive as hell - OK
so what does he want to-day?
A point you want to get across
just be aware - you are not my boss
but somebody I have barely met
and you are certainly out to get
your family's viewpoint, dear,
I do not give a fig, you hear.
We both have the story secondhand
and if you profess to be the one man band
go ahead, be my guest - but you
label yourself with a lot of goo
none of us really knows the true truth
so your letter is going to the roof
top with the rest of the ashes
your letter - flown and splashes.

Turkey's demise

When a person gobbles a turkey
at Thanksgiving dinner
she or he knows the murky
story of the bird's inner.

The turkey is dead and gone
when you swallow the meat
but the taste on the way down
tell tales of ancient meets

Each bird that we digest
is a token of American values
at our national bird's behest
stuffing me please with cashews

Enjoy me when I am sizzling
or even the day after when cold
think of my breast, thighs drizzling
I served you twofold.

I gathered people in peace
Pilgrims and Indians both
I serve as a conversation piece
while gliding down your throat.

(Inspired by Jack Prelutsky)

Friday sentiments gone

Fast dinner preparation
due to a preset arrangement
on a Friday night
yields an unsatisfactory sentiment
of family neglect
Regrets are for the needy of a bad conscience
Of feudal narrowness.

Vanit y

Vanity of words - vanity of body
vanity of everything
did I forget something
yes - mother nature
in spring pale light green jade of a tree
in summer wild flowers of any hue
in fall with foliage of brightly reddish to burgundy
and winter - brown or gray or white
so the humans and their pet animals
wild vanity of bloody murky blight
so true - so tried - so tolerated
alas - the beliefs of others
yet I only see vain vanity
a longing for a bonfire
blushing up the world
brushing the comb of mighty flesh
we are the people who have no idea
of what is going to happen
oh yes we know somewhat what has happened
but nothing could prepared us or
the future - our kids for
this kind of life in front of a screen
this godly belief in electricity
burn your gadgets - get out and
just imagine this world without
what we are used to now -
computers, intelligent phones
fads of our new century
never have so many been so connected
and yet so lonely -
in their vain thought that we can control
what we create - alas,
Pandora's box is truly opened.

Bus stop revisited

After their morning ablutions
of the kids when they were small
I usually went to their bus stop
and met some of my neighbors.

We had our "risqué" elocution
in the townhouses of urban sprawl
our confessions were nonstop
we were the gang of true sabers.

What I had missed of pure acumen
I met again near the shopping mall
an absent missed American hop
that was my today's savior.

How can I start to draw conclusion
of the friendship - with an apostle Paul
it was a ticking bomb pop
of reminiscent crazy behavior.


(to Jimmie)

Shakespearian Cleihew

Shakespeare - a witty bard
defended his portrait die hard
of Romeo's love for his Juliet
alas, it was a Russian roulette.

Autumn cinquain

Apples
Pears of autumn
trees giving us great fruits
from which we gather strength and joy
divine.

State of union horror!

Fear of fleeing the responsibility
the force of mental ability
mediocrity is sublime
instead of democracy's prime
only joy of happy mediocrity
a "true" banner for democracy!

Unseasonal L unch

Saturday lunch in November
outside it is warm enough to enjoy
our repast - in the air
son of loins joins
and we and the dog laugh and bark
of silly mishaps - hard of hearing
some remarks get misconstrued
in the backyard of a neighbor
a tractor whirs loudly
annoyingly it disturbs the peaceful
and thoroughly out of seasonally
jolly day of sun - beams - even
a wasp flutters by but leaves
gently the lunchenors alone.

"Lunchenor" : a person who eats lunch

Drifting thought

Sunny day of cold November
will give away to joy
of the starkest month of the year
the other side of the earth
it is light bright and warm
full of little kids' laughter.

Lack of movements

I am in a terrible bind
falling just behind
in exercise - of mind
spirit and body - worse
will have to coerce
myself otherwise disperse
my torso's general prime
will have, I fear, a sad decline
and my last years not benign.

Citations!

Citations - Citations - Citations
with each media growing stipulations
of headaches for students and profs
to quote correctly is now so rough.

To be a citationally honest whore
you note ebooks, and mags, galore
papers, films, strips, a loony bin
of every single indigestion of sin.

The owner of the original thought
did not realize that you are overwrought
by trying to do what is right
citing sharply with all your might.

An Inalienable Right!

An inalienable right to contraception
should be for all people on earth
in a bid to humane sound perception
an inalienable right to contraception
do not come with your preconception
of telling anybody to give birth
An inalienable right to contraception
should be for all people on earth.

(A triolet form of verse)

Afterthought

Good morning to a new day
where we can see
what messes were done yesterday
what can we do
but smile and move away!

Lost in the air

Out walking our pooch yesterday
and came up with a fabulous poem
while briskly and joyfully wandering
but for the life of me I cannot
recall my brilliance
assuming that it was my brain
in a flash dance out and that was that
the thought of no sparkling
so the Darwin award for loosing
my great writing's stance.

A friend of light!

She relived wholly while
she was telling me her story
vividly
the how, the when, the what
and the why.
Had I had a camera running
it would have shown
a vivacious, wild,
wondrous woman
lit by the rain
and the sunlight
shining through the window
in the quiet vanilla deli
the weather reflecting
the different moods of their well
such a welcome web
on a Wednesday afternoon
in October - a veil over
the dragging, but wholesome week.

To Mali

Fill in your own words...

In far away ...
lived a youngish ...
who had a ...
They went down to a ...
saw a ... in the ...
What happened to ...
the ... asked.
I .... knew, exclaimed the ...
All I realize .....
that....
.... a lousy ....!!

NIMBY

The things we do not do
are the missed opportunities
of serious ball game
in our own backyard communities.
However, sometimes a claim
to do something good
is a divine inclination of yore
to feel greatly understood;
yet your intentions were
somewhat different than that
you really didn't care
whether the neighbors an eyelid bat'.
You just wanted to play
in your own charitable way,
but nobody realized that
you were just a miserly cad
who could not afford to donate
and let others you actuate
when really and truly
you did your best and cruelly
it can be said that you did
you were your own "el cid".

Odd phone call

Strange phone call
to thank me for something
I would have done anyway
(I think)

All because of a unknown voice
I had to be a broken record
because to me it was (not) done
(I digress)

The past is still the present
the present represents the future
and the future will meet the past
(I know)

Oddities and normalities
frugalities versus spendabilities
Creativity not followability
(I hope)

The mysterious progeny

My youngest child is a reader
he is an avid young male
where as I am your average matron
alas, that is how he sees me
whereas I as of the baby boomer's
wild and know-it-all generation
think that I am just right
that I can do whatever I want
(within my economical sphere).
Heaven help me
if I even mention the matronly name
I have never been a lady,
in my generation they are few and far...
We share the same political views
why else would he be my son?
But apart from that he is
a mysterious androgen
like my own paternal donor.
If I did not know it
I would think I, for sure, have given
birth to my own father,
except for one thing
the progeny of mine reads, reads, reads.
(Something my father never did
maybe he couldn't???)
I am truly amazed at the blend
of humanity, and egotistical verve
of my youngest - blessed with
one feature
charm.

(A mother's musing)

Theatre and what it is?

Physical theatre
exemplifies what we sample
when going out
looking at the world
Psychological drama
is how we react
when we exist
in our own little world
Philosophically
we either experience
drama, comedy, boredom
or disengaged
acting inertly or
Passionately theatrical
feeling with all might
what the whole world is about
or not....

Recyling bins

In the far off corner of my ear
the recycling bins get emptied
all over my neighborhood
then I know it is Friday
and we can start new cyclus.

Over the milky way's Cygnus
there is the black hole's display
of being sheer misunderstood
when you support science' frenzied
desire to save the earth so dear.

My grandkids should live not in fear
of having their skins jellied
in sunny Aussie' lack of wood
but enjoy their childhood's play
seeing the coming of a nimbus.

Spider of the screen

Today, sitting quietly
at the keyboard
minding my curious business
a spider walks across the screen
asking me,
What did you say?
I have nothing to spill,
I tell her, I just look.
Nah, you do not see
the bigger picture,
my furry insect exclaims.
Oh, why not?
Granted, you watch the world
from your screen,
but do you experience it?
Smell it?
It is like second hand smoke.
Not the true reality.
Get up and off your duff.
And she huddles off into a corner
starting to spin her tale...

October 13th

Ethos Pathos Logos
long forgotten terms
from philosophy class
revisit them
once - twice - three times
a lady
or a gentleman
in the human mirror
reflections
never veer far from
the Greeks.
Pathos Ethos Logos
emotions of the keyboard
can never replace
our human feelings
epitomized
in the goodness of
a person
helping fellows in crisis.
Logos Ethos Pathos
reality and clear speech
enthralls the listeners
as well as the messenger
and defies the wild guess.
Just a thought of rhetoric
on a sheer clear cold
October the thirteenth day.
where politically we need
all of that.

A burial haiku

Death hits every day
whether we like it or not
flowers for a friend.

(For Tom)

Babushka's off!

Take off your babushka
on the old ladies' summer day!
In some cultures
you gather mushroom -
in others you pick apples.
Michaelmas in one place,
St Martin's summer
in others languages -
and from the 18th century
it is called Indian Summer.

That is what we have today
a gorgeous day - not too hot
not too cold after a spell
of chilly mornings.
I still applaud the old
grandmothers who take off
their babushka on a hot day
letting their hair low
in the free floating breeze.
Just now I am that girl -
letting herself be warmed
forgetting for an instant
that I am a babushka too.


Babushka is a head scarf
as well as a granny

Washing machine philosophy

Washing machine's noise
Saturday's poise
designed to employ
gives great joy
modernity's ploy
rest and enjoy!

Vitality

The chicken or the egg?
the hen or the rooster?
The yolk or the white?
Just another health booster!

A perpetuum mobile

A mobile in motion
moving - circling
hanging by the thread
flowingly suspended
a life of its own
rhythmically free
as close as one can get
to a violation of
the second thermodynamic law
of perpetual motion.

There has to be an air current
a lowly quiet breeze
a feline indolent licking her fur
a dog sauntering sweetly by
a child's light laughter
lovers' heated embrace
anything close by stirring
slowly lingering
and you will discover
its unique singularity.

To Flensted Mobiles

A flying egg

a full Monday moon
a raging tune
a burst flying balloon
somewhere in the sky
on the sly
away from the fry
a sadness encroached
an egg not poached
a cocoon unbroached
lifeless memorial
somewhere equatorial
a sea struck burial

Almost there

An apartment slowly
emties of its life
a process of elimination
of things which spoke
to its owner
now the contents get
thrown out - sold - given away
with sadness
and fond memories
and anger and not understanding
why some things were different
papers revealed a story
for me to tell or not
but within a month I lived
another life
but I throd almost
in the same footsteps
without realizing it
but not quite....

Tove

Tove was an ash
she swayed for the wind
her wood was hard
but inside
she was mellow
loving trusting
believing that
even when it was raining
storming, a blizzard
the outcome would be good
she sometimes wavered a tad
too much and at times
her branches were hurt.
Bearing one fruit
late in life will be
her claim to fame.
You could lean on her
and she loved when the deers
in the wood surrounded her.
Her leaves shimmered with joy
when a squirrel found food
near her and needed her for shelter.
But like all trees and beings
who follow mother nature
she also needed to obey..
To many, however, Tove will remain
an ash of renown in our minds -
an Yggdrasil.

Long and full

It did not last long
the joy I felt for a moment
somebody close died.
A merciful short fight
with death.
When you stand and look
at the dear face
you wonder how life
and not life
has run its course
then symbols and traditions
and public services take over.
For the nonegenarian
the run was long,
truly interesting
so I should not cry,
but celebrate a long
interesting life,
however lonely she felt
during the last years
when everybody she knew
either moved or left.
She did everything.

Facing yourself

The portal closes
and fears return
where shall I look
when anguish shakes
my inner core
joy vanishes
facing myself
somewhere of my youth
I must stare away
from these moments
and just cope.

Let me enjoy the moment

Party going from on to the other
it can be a little too much
but then when I think of home
there is not a whole of such
and a person needs friends
good or sweet or even "bad"
the sheer feeling of being
is something to be had.
So summer eves full of joy
laughter and petanque
will forever stand out as fun
not as a great think tank
but light smiles of simplicity
certainly beats the dull
and lack of creativity
Of course I know that life is hard
for humankind and thee and me
but let me enjoy my moments
cause life often turns to a dire quotient.
Knowing that Faust was guilty
of saying "You are so wonderful"
what hubris was for Goethe
never stop thriving but this was cool.

Des vent d'ici

Vent marin en ete
donne de l'humidite
vent de nord en hiver
fouille de la froideur
vent de l'oest en autommne
fait pleuvoir en commune
vent de l'est au printemps
on reve des meilleurs vins.

Something about learning?

dehydration
rehydration
cultivation
deformation

humanizing
dehumanizing
accidental
intentional

observation
sensation
partition
incatation

reformation
mastication
implication
variation

Fleurette

A unique flower popped up
one day in mid-August
a timid one, but with dreams
beyond what her kins see
her filaments a bit irresolute
but her style surely forceful
and oh her dreams to fly
with the wild eagle
to find the great apple
and sow her ovules, her spores
and design her fresh views
differently while conquering
a whole other continent.
Her peerless qualities will
show when she actually blooms,
it takes - sometimes -
a lifetime, but when she does
she shall outblossom
the queen of the night
and become fleurette of the day.

Snapshot

Photography - at war
weddings in pictures
two extremes polarized
can they be united?
What make one person
turn to photojournalism
the other to families in joy?
Both are necessary
for one or the other reason
who is to say that
families are not important
in time of conflict
juxtapose that with strives
of kin of your own flesh
humans are beastly souls
this snapshot reminds.

(Thanks to Chandler for letting me read:
The Painter of Battles by
Arturo Perez-Reverte)

Charm in a village!

A comment received moments ago
flattered my battered ego
you are the only other person
in the village who would read this!

Professing no real capacity
but a healthy curiosity
I shall now delve into a work
stimulating my brain cells!

It goes to show that someone
knows how to charm my electrons
even though this person fights
for his life and the other.

Myopia Nostalgia

A crowded beach in August
sun baked bodies like sardines
my oldest friend and I

another crowded northern beach
sun and clouded shrimps roasted
as teenagers

today she still loves being cooked
whereas I have become cautious
as older girls.

Today was as if we were on
one of our European trips
in our early twenties.

Looking for the tan and water
we chatted not so much about
topic of our youth: men.

But hubbies, kids, grand kids
filled our conversations. Yet;
As sexagenarians, we can still look!

Saturday Morning at Denmark House in Aussie

They are there on the screen
in colors - for me to them see
a few hours after the event
I see their lovely smiles
their curls - their laughs
as they eat hotdogs and whatnots
I have been to this place
so I know exactly what it entails
they ran then - they ran now
so I know but cannot hear their sounds
only in my mind - instant replay
so hurrah for Facebook and the rest
silently participating - fabulous!

Asserting - smoking

Confrontations avoided
with nice neighbors
but it has to be done
their smoke gets in my food.

Being a child of the 50es
I was not taught to speak up
but to quietly accept
what life offered me.

Asserting myself vividly
is going to be difficult
move away from my windows
when you puff - please

Your habit hinders hopelessly
my enjoyment of eating
but I hope that my disgesting
does not endanger your smoking.

A scenery

Sorrow blended itself
with absolute divinity
of a certain glade
filled with eaglets
and snakes and trees.
All this was blended
with vines old and young
in full bloom all
the wind of the mountains
flew about my head -
standing gaping at the dale
with backdrop of a range
of kind space between the clouds
spare colors except verdure
stark grays and bright blue
No painting - no photograph
would bring out the depth
of one Thursday in August.

Why

Why here - granny?
Why not with us or your love somewhere else?
Why in this odd little place?
it is just a village somewhere
in the country called France.
I am living in Melbourne Australia
Farmor - and I dare ask - why?

Alexander - all brilliant questions
but you know what - grand son of mine
so far away - loved firstborn of my firstborn

This little life is truly mine
and nobody else's - I can talk or not
I can walk or not
and often in the evening I listen to opera
- and reminiscence of a certain time
when I learnt to appreciate this art form
especially tenors
my Spanish uncle introduced me to Placido
in the early seventies ...

Why does Farfar let me go?
I tell you - it is true love and freedom
and therefore I am faithfully happy.

These summers alone gives me joy
and I learn to cope with life alone
because grandson of mine
my mother told me when fairly young
that a person is always alone
She did never elaborate
so I had to realize that loneliness
which most people fear and hate
or feeling lost is being human
overcoming that - you get stronger
so when one day you and yours sibs
are old enough to read some of these
little scribbles - left for you
you may realize - that
old silly Farmor was right
- being alone is a gift
but you just have to appreciate it
in the manner to which it was intended.

If you can combat loneliness
then you as a person can do anything!
and calm in my body and soul
I am ready to tackle the world
I have recharged my dead batteries!

Odd verity

Letter from a friend
reminding me what
I ought to be doing
which I am not
I write poems - not books
and live my quiet life
in a little village
not far from the sea
the crowd of this area
is as bad or as good
as anywhere else
this micro cosmos of mine
is why I am diverted
in my light travails
one summer's odd verity
therefore what ought to be
is not what is and who cares.

Under an orange tree

Under an orange tree
sitting people three
chattering about all
and nothing at all
enjoying their wine
their eyes and mine
encounter each other
feelings sister to brothers

Under an orange tree
three fates of variety
we were Europeans all
standing up and tall
in each of us combine
life's experiences entwine
here in a village souther
our selves ruled our rudder

Under an orange tree
our chats were of society
one lost his wife to squall
two were just having a ball
flirting to a bantering line
knowing it was just the wine
prizing the company of each other
one surely after another.

Under an orange tree
graces joined in unsobriety
just to events forestall
ending not in a port of call
where misunderstandings whine
but serious friendship aligns
with a smile of the calligrapher
bowing deep to the philosopher

To Tony and Adrian

Pataphoric non-poem

I wanted an allegory
alas could not find it
therefore creating a pataphor
the flower on my neighbour's windowsill
overlooking the empty alley
is the glass I drink
standing in the little street
looking at life passing by.

Vigga and her tree

Expressly - the end of her world
her wondrous tree Yggdrasil
standing up tall and vibrant
vegetated waiting for death
Vigga kept its kernel verdured
except in the happy height
of a glorious summer's day
it settled subtly for frigidity
she talked to it sitting at its foot
her eyes welled wishfully over
her saline compelling wet drops
hit the tree trunk at its receding roots
but to no appellant avail - .
Vigga the Voelva realized readily
that even she could not stop death
dousing the one taciturn being
to whom she had always turned
with her futile wishful tears
she now sat at its tall torso
and she waited until the cancer
had meticulously massacred
convulsively the rearmost root
with its stratagemic stranglehold.
She held the trunk tightly
as Yggdrasil finally yielded.
She sat next to the giant
who had given so gracefully
of itself to other living spirits
and she rested sadly ruffled
knowing that no one can change
the victory of destructive death
but in Yggdralsil's yellowing case
its whole being would take years
to its dreadful but sure demise.
Another alternative - Vigga the Voelva
thought animatronicly torn
between sorrow, anger and acceptance
would be to divide the tree up
and create new (albeit dead) objects
and objectively its appeal appalled
the sombre seeress - and she shook
her head in shock for even having
that slight thought - but as always
she would ask her wise sister Sophia
one day when her raw rage of anguish
had left her and she again would accept
that life takes turns - towards
an entirely randomized reality
you live and you die - and there is
nothing you can do - but bitterly
bow to this existence or with gratitude
smiling seeing in fond flashbacks
having known a tree named Yggdrasil.

Fight for life

... a friend fights
my wish to extend a lifeline
or a life jacket
in frustration
mission impossible
fucking bloody cancer again....

to Chandler

Un jour d'ete

Un jour plein des amis de passage
presque dans les garriques sauvages
les fleurs bruts s'entendent
entre eux et la vielle lavande
les vents violents les embaument
le monde etait leur royaume
pour un seul air du temps perdu
la vie propre et courte tordue.

Gorilla glass

Waiting for Godot
can be of value
one day -
a new invention
may not be of use
right away -
but the future
one can never predict
so it is with
Gorilla Glass.

Waiting patiently
until the fish bites
the trades ring
a new option
not truly seen
for what it is
right here and now
so it is if
you hold the passion.

Waiting for inspiration
will yield nothing
so you can try
opting for the rainy day
solution to the problem
it will never come
and yet - in the desert
there is sand to be found.

Midinette

Une midinette vient de apparaitre
dans mon cerveau irregulier
pourqoui ce singulier etre
me hante sans me laisser?
Midinette, petite filleule
de ma jeunesse lointaine
dans la nuit je bois un tilleul
et je te revois - corneilienne
pauvre petite - tu etais moi
sans le savoir tu m'as apprit
etre en bonne ou mauvaise foi
cela ne fait pas un pli
dans la vie il y a des betises
qu'on fasse tous les jours
meme sous les belles cherises
la mort les soigne a son tour.

Radiators - What?

Decisions about a new radiator
in a another language
is for the layman a challenge
on top of knowing zilch
about such gadgets.
Yes, I have searched both
internet and consumers advice,
but, honestly, still it is a blur.
I can only be thankful
that I have an expert "in situ"
so to speak - not further away
than a little click - .
So eventually we shall know
whether I made a seemingly
right decision - following
the local electrician's advice.
Random radiator thoughts.

Melon haiku

mellowing melon
juicy orangy moisture
delectable joy

Tempting Templates

Every time I open this blog
I get a message : New Colors
new form - new you?
Never mind the content!

Would I rather show in blue
polkadotted background
a smiling dancing frog
I do not give my consent

My blog may be boring
in outlook and such
my poems are the meat
this is my daily lament!

Languedoc Brotherhood of Wine

Medieval brotherhoods
(with sisters in between)
sanctioned by the church
for the good of the wine
Bacchus even mentioned
from the Catholic pulpit.
The ancient Dionysian rites
to the wine-tasting of now
urge to drink it
(albeit in moderation)
ever so often to imbibe
(just do not drive).
Paganism invested in believers
a conviction of un-principles
mixed with cheer joy
a return to the wedding at Cana
a celebration of every day
as if it were your last
in an absolute mixture of
costumes and vivid colors.
From old to newly created fellowships
with only one common goal:
Ye drink the noble wine
of the grapes of Languedoc,
once mediocre and common
(filling the everyday need
for at least two centuries)
now becoming a new old classic
and branding them smartly
with trickling your palates.
The smells of the garrigues'
lavender, poppies and rosemary
compete on the world's stage.
Such a vision of wisdom
was given to-day in an aura
of solidarity for the content
of your well-being combined
with the marketing and viva voce
of unique feeling of sense.
When a good wine enters
first the smell, the taste,
the fine texture of the aroma
filling the nostrils and mouth
until finally gently elegantly
disappears down the throat
leaving a response of awe.
Such is the true kinetic kinship
in colors of white, red, and rose.

Arch melody

An arch from the 14th century
shorter than it used to be
any road leads to eternity,
from the ancient stones
to more recent bones
from Greece to powerful Rome
where does this artifact fit
into my itinerant life's jig
the clocks of Cazouls tick
every heartbeat echoes
the rocks metamorphose
our fates an instant transpose.

Wind on toes

Wind makes the curtain
whistle slowly -
its movements reflects
shadowy on my toes
its air brings cool
breeze to my being
energizing the lazy self
one more time.
My feet taps to its rhythm.

Enigmatic Adalais

Enigmatic Adalais
Why did you donate
your castle to the church?
Didn't you have
anybody else to give this property to?
Your son died
and were you a secret bonne femme
who thought - her whole village
would suffer the same consequences
as the inhabitants of Beziers?
Did you not have a nephew?
An uncle to whom you could have given
your little castle, inherited from
your husband who died on the
road to Jerusalem seeking
holy blessings with his king
his royal highness of France?
Was it a ballance act -
to throw sand in the eyes of the inquisition?

No castle is left but a small chamber
what secret did it hold?
Or did you believe that the church was good?

Was it to prevent a power play
from happening in our gentle town?
What motives did you have?
Did you think that if you gave
the rich church your wealth
you and your loved ones would go to heaven?

Questions comes faster than ever?
Adalais de Cazouls - daughter of Sauvian
I shall try to find you in your deeds
it may take me a long time -
you have me captured.

Donjon dormant

Casouls a un donjon
epoustouflant et rond
mes speculations opportunes
tout pres d'Enserune!
Un sarcophage captif
une ecole pour les hardis
une cachette des Cathars
une caserne par hasard
un entrepot des foins
ou un vestige romain?
Une chambre qui fait rever
et pour moi j'aurais aimer
y danser et m'amuser
avec des fantomes d'antan
Pierrette a son Harlequin.

A ghost story

Somebody sent a ghost story
on the coast of Maine
but I have an equal one
from the region of Languedoc
I know there have been people
living - in the place we now own
they have had all the feelings
of a lifetime of 2000 years
there have been nuns, but before that
the castle people enjoyed cooking
and when I cook I feel as
if somebody peeks over my shoulder
approuving if I try hard
to make autherntic French food
and in between the nuns and me
several hundred years worth of souls
float before my eyes...
and the amount of food eaten in
this tiny place has been tremendous
so ghosts or not I am just part of them.

Long distance 2-year birthday

In far away Aussie
my redhead grandson
to-day is two
an important day
in anyone's life
he has been out
doing what he likes
he doesn't know
his farmor follows
him in his thoughts
good wishes follow
him from around
the globe and reaches
him, albeit a little late
cause telepathy might
not be as fast as Skype
but just maybe it is
sending you hugs
kisses and sweetiepies.

Twingofife!

Twingo twingo running bright
on the road to somewhere right
you are just a great machine
running down the lavine
up and down where I chose - you go
round and about - I know
that you are truly my car
because we travel near and far
to what end we both will come
you will twinkle like a star
in all red colors - in the great bazar
you are such a cute little chum
whereas I will end up in the grave
you will shine and recycled pave
away for another kind of life
forever you shall play as a fife.

Le vin parfait

Once in a blue moon
one will taste a wine
of a certain kind
which bouquet
will haunt your buds
not often - just
this rare occasion
where the blend
of the grapes
will scent your palate
and send you off
to a secret paradise
of friendship or
just companionship
to-night that rich
round earthly bloom
of an touching pat
swirled itsself down
the throat of you
and you sensed it.

Oven dreams

I cook something - a dream
a mix that I have made
it will never be the same
because that's not my game
a foodie's mascerade -
just filled with cream.

Musings of a sorry kind

Sitting in my little room
far away from everybody
I have to -
to get my writing going
but it ain't going anywhere
cause each day is new
with new joys/sadnesses/
persons/animals/
views/introsppections/
so discipline has to be found
if not today
maybe tomorrow
although...
bad excuses/sad idiocies/
maybe after lunch
in siesta hour,
the I shall attempt to..

Summer days - no ending

lazy summer - shot
anyhting done - not
wild vines - green
footsteps - seen
cleaning - nil
writing - quill
of the daze - out
get moving - about
continued - not
because it's too hot

Shoulds-woulds-coulds?!

Shoulds coulds woulds
all words tempting the
my bad conscience
I should clean, for instance,
I really do not feel like it.
I could go for a walk,
more likely.
I would like for somebody
to turn up on my doorstep
with a genie and then finish
whatever I was struggling with,
not going to happen either!
So shoulds woulds coulds
go away for now today
and let me live in peace
but tomorrow you may turn
up again for all I care,
although you are coming
nagging me in the night.
My coulds, woulds and shoulds
be with me anyway now
you always will until
the end of my days!

A sneeze

Sneezing in he road
it could have been me
but instead it is somebody else
whose nose talks in spurts
achoo - achooo
- achoo

A sneeze is something
strange- you cannot hide
it has to come out - somehow
somewhere in a house in a street
bless you we say
but

what does it really mean?
thank goodness it is not me
making that awful noise bothering
everybody - anybody - anywhere
me be blessed
not

Old voices over the phone

Old voices from way back when
are soothing, sometimes bothersome
because they know you inside out
you cannot hide
you can only acquiesce
they will know if you fake it
those old voices who know
will immediately find out
if you have a new lover
if you are hurting
if you are smiling
if you are screaming bloody hell
if your time is up
and yourself is down
and you know them too!

Unbroken wish

I know it is not much
an arm in a cast as such
but when it's your main
it is bloody difficult
to use the left as a right
just as if you were a leftie
your odd side was afflicted
I have a wish - unspoken
cause if it were unbroken
that arm of mine here
you would not hear
my complaint as a poem
-that is the problem.

Comme partout

Voyez-vous les gens du village
ils sourirent quand le temps fait beau
quand il fait moche
les visages sont "ne me rapproche"
verts et très amers

Voyez-vous les gens du village
ils sont curieux des nouveautés a saliver
quand on ne comprend rien
les masques jumelent d'une question
incompréhensibles visible

Voyez-vous les gens du village
ils sont gentils quand ils le savent
quand on est d'accord
on se sent tout abord
vitaux et tres joviaux.

Hubby screwed a screw

Screwed two screws in a door
is what hubby did today
I let him rest a little
otherwise he may stray
to do more and wear out
and that will not do
because I need him
when I am sixtytwo!

Le docteur poli

Un docteur doux avec de la politesse
et plein de sagesse
cure tout le monde ici
mais un jour il va se retraiter
et les gens ne savent pas
qu'ils ont - pardi
et je me demande qui
va lui remplacer
car encore regne la gentilesse
mais pour untel/unetelle retrouver
doit etre fait avec finesse
l'impossibilite de la realite
les gens doivent etre unis
pour qu'ils aient un pareil
mais, cela sera une merveille!

Sill of life

A window sill with wild thyme and peonies
away from darkness and sordid thoughts
the perspective, the outlook
can change by seeing full of life
instead of just flowers in a box.
A square of brown dirt
filled with white and red blooms
smiles at you -
and you return the favor
for you own sake and you change into
that wild longing beauty of a crown.

Noise Aphorism

Noise - from work does not bother
when it is done for your benefit.
Noise from fast motorcycles
is irritating if I am not on it.
Perspective changes everything
so when upset
add empathy -
then no more nagging decibels.

Cancer's cloak haiku

Cavernous cancers
of cursed cast culls candidly
its cloth of chagrin.

Carol

Death - expected
yet sadness in the soul
spreads its fangs
to commemorate
an etheral lady
so well-loved and sweet
embraced by bitter cancer
exstinguished
when she evidently
had more life
to vivaciously span
but deemed to
breathe no more
by sudden eclipse.

The couple of Eden

The couple of Eden
never ceases
to surprise
with their immaculate generosity
Uniquely molded
for everyone else
to emulate
almost to the point of ferocity.
Other mortals
will do well
to model
this behavior by imitation
yet we others
cannot compete
to conceive
their goodness by infinitation.

Misbegotten

Government distrusted
lobbyists mistrusted
power brokers
should be ousted
can anybody be entrusted
with anything anymore?
I truly deplore
the state of the states
Let's start with
clean, clear slates!

Split the toffee

Split - splat - splot
words are forget-me-nots
blues and hues

split - splot - splat
a poem I surely begat
grays and maze

splot - splat - split
the subject matter is it
coffee and toffee.

Rip off

Fake id's, rip-off
and the likes
are now totally
the spice of lives
buyers beware
even more today
you are within luck
if you can say
that you have never
ever been swiped
the odds grow for
you to be heisted
Internet dealings
are exquisitely sublime
but I stop now
due to cyber crime
I was charged
an excessive amount
from overseas
into my charge account
luckily the company
knew of my habits
so they called alert
asking it is legit?
No, of course not
I firmly said and swore
change id and tidbits
one down and so score
this individual will
be so careful pronto
with Facebook, Amazon
and look out for her contos!

Wise Gaia

On a hot day in late May
a butterfly grew and flew
from bud to bud - spreading
its message - summer's coming.
We got to procreate pro rate
here and there and everywhere
so the nature's call calls
for again all over starting.
Gaia's command - alerting
folks that winter's nearing
on the other side of world.
The double vision the duality
is built in reality and all
our girl knows how to swirl.
Sadly - oil spurts out in water
many of her creatures slaughter
whatever can she do to construe
why folks misuse her gift so true
Terra's answer lies in herself
You fools - go to your shelf.
Banality of man is mortality.

Utopian dreams

If I ruled the world
children would be fed
and nursed and bred
to think and laugh
and question everything.

If I ruled the world
the old people would be venerated
and helped and nursed
to enjoy and be part
of our every life.

If I ruled the world
the politicians would be honest
and get no more pay
than the carpenter or plumber
and they would have two terms each.

If I ruled the world
the sexes would be equal
equal pay, equal rights
equal terms on the boards
the males would care equally.

If I ruled the world
solar wind and water energy
would be priorities
as well as feeding the lot
and everybody would take vacations.

Utopian's utopia follows
the themes of work and joy
and laughter and sorrow
a full belly - a healthy living
ah - on a day - I can dream!

Smut haiku

Oh glorious snot
green, yellow feverish glut
invaded by smut

Primo

Emily's garden
was just like Monet's
she poeted it
he painted it
my flowers are
my offspring
all of them musical
each with their own forte
tranquillo, grave, vivo,
with their grownup blend
of notes, hopes, desires.

(thanks to Mali, for reminding
me of what's important)

Supercilious

A broken wrist,
oh pure shit
when one is older
not bolder
too careful now
to avoid somehow
purely to assure
not to injure
this limb again
and yourself maim
or your arm twist.
Here's my writ:
totally avoidable
on actuarial table
wires along the floor
I totally deplore
that none took action
and foresaw a fraction
so surely dangerous
instead of convalesce
mine unfortunately
anyone preemptively
for years could deem
a hazard of extreme
the threads perilous.
J'accuse: supercilious.

A flower

Kudos to medical front desk lady
who saw I needed very badly
by my doctor to be seen
so she smiled and fitted me in
grateful for her compassion
kindness, sometimes out of fashion
is applauded by this poetess
who unexpectedly met noblesse.

Wimbledon

Oh to be at the Center court
so many times on TV fought
would be a dream come ball
strawberries, champagne and all
I would savour one thing only
feast my heart on fight of the lonely
victorious women and men
who flick the ball again and again
get a crick in my neck for sure
for all the times my eyes endure
the play of the silly the yellow round
up, down, aloft, swusshing on ground
the Wimbledon on the tele, not live
a wish to be granted - a forehand drive
alas, does not do it for me
one day - one year, never - maybe
with poetry and my dream of Albion
tennis to see is hubby's passion
to give him a ticket to the ride
would be a sure and foremost pride
to dress for that fancy occasion
would be my special celebration
and study the people in the stalls
instead of staring viciously at that ball
with Brooke and Granchester in mind
and his longing for home of a kind
now for that simple reason I yearn
to be there and money burn
for there is betting to be had
alas, don't do it said my Dad
only if you are prepared to lose
and laugh at your own silly bruise
a sum of a specific and little amount
you can then enjoy, not lose count -
of the many times the ball flies over
the distance would be from there to Dover
what a silly ending to my poem
it was fun to write it -here in Golem.

Theme to ponder

If an honest politician
when he is bought
stays with the same patron
then honesty is to be found
even among the legal lobbyists
this theme makes sense - !
All you have to do
is pay a premium price
to ensure that your enterprise
is heard -
ere
someone else just pays
a tiny trifling more
and now the over-all objective
changed -
an moronic oxymoron

Not really a poem, just a tidbit!
An honest politician is one who, when he is bought, will stay bought.
Simon Cameron
US financier & politician (1799 - 1889)
Found on Michael Moncur's Cynical quotes

Wisdom for the aging!

Writer I am not
yet poetess maybe
always word spinner wannabe
Realist I am
yet idealist maybe
forever humanism seeker
Just hope - hope - hope
and then again with reality
it is not that easy
I but know that with age
my outspokenness
has become vividly more
forceful - purposeful,
therefore with that trait
I am no longer the quiet
meek little bourgeois
but an old crone
with advice to give
yet knowing when not to give
and that is wisdom!

Pretty haiku

gorgeous day in May
walking with daughter and dog
a pretty picture

She just is

What humans think
she just is
we fight about money
power - lust
anything we can get
or not get
she just is
faiths - entertainment
good versus bad
whatever that signifies
she still just is!

Brontesaurus

A friend sent me a link
on Youtube - amazing
Brontesaurus
fun stuff on the Brontes

Anne, Charlotte and Emily
all authors in their own right
surrrounded by ubermales
not being part of the society

outcasts - still to this day
females have to be doubly strong
due to our biology

yet, in today's paper
there are talks of a choice
of a supreme justice
being a woman - no kids
no husband - no lover?

maybe she will be confirmed
but then she doesn't have
what women normally struggle with
just like the Brontes!

Monday frustration

Another student - totally chaotic
second one - not prepared at all
As a tutor - an evolution
from feeling worried - something I did ?
parents helping too much
writing essays
to - these people are not getting it!
It takes sheer determination -
tenacity - wake up and
smell the real life!
It's not that easy
and especially not
on a May Monday morn!

Lady Lack

See yourself in the mirror
early in the morrow
horror horror show
alas wringing my hands
didn't murder anybody
but sleep -
deprived - deranged
stare at yourself and wonder
how anyone could love
somebody like me
blinders are good
always have them on
early in the morrow
when your spouse looks
herself in the mirror
and screams -
lady Macbeth equals me.

Proust questionnaire?

I saw a term and wondered,
looked it up on Wikipedia.

Does anybody even remember
card catalogs and retaining
information on this kind of question?

It would have been next to impossible
unless your colleagues or you
remembered having read about it.

So nothing stays the same
Proust took it at different times
then we can too.

Shockingly - simple and time waste
but that's what free time is for...

I shall remember to take it
on a day when I am a bad mood
today I was in a good one
and --- I am like Jackie Collins???!

What's in a name

Somebody wrote that
about my redhead
of a grandson
ginger ninja
what a perfect name
so I have two of them
a curly barracuda
a ginger ninja
what more could
a distant granny ask for??

Sleepless again

it is getting tiring
of being so tired
lying sleepless in the night
thinking of weird stuff
going the extra mile
to try and doze off
before the new dawn
the only consolation is
tomorrow repeats twilight

The good witches and Redhead's Nine Stiches

My little redhead grandson
you are so far away
I wish I could cuddle you
especially today
since you have had
whole nine stitches
in your finger - that's bad
I wish that your witches
will help you grow
and take away the pain
but you will have to know
they try - careful - in vain
so that you tumble over
you cannot always adjust
to the weight of the cover
it makes you turn abrupt -
to the witch on your left
I cannot but fall
but the witch on the right
smiled and said hey ye all
is just too much adrift
eventually at full might
your cure will be swift!

May 2

What happened on that day
in history?
I asked myself and googled it.
In herstory
my father was born
a search pinpointed him in the country
where I am from -
I found him hidden in automobiles
and air planes
him being one of the pioneers
of introducing private airplanes
in/ or around 1930
a go-getter - a salesman
par excellence
Today I wonder if he would
recognize the same traits
which drove him in my progeny?
I think he would be proud.

Poetry readings

A friend of mine asked me to come
to a poetry reading - I did.
Now I know why I avoid these things
like the plaque
I could not always hear
what was said.
Maybe it is me.
Poetry is a solitary act
unless slamming it out
(in which case it is meant to be
part of a whole in an open setting).
One student with dreadlocks
and baggy pants I asked
what he did in his spare time
and he said writing rap songs
I told him - I am a poet too
he looked at me -
a new concept that his rap
is poetry - just of a different kind
so whether you are a rapper
or a lyricist
or just a house word smith
we are all poets
and our readings may bring
the reader what she needs or not
it makes no difference
but to the writer of these words
it is karma or therapy
no money - in solitude.

More on politics

If a senator without reason
can block a nomination
not being obstructed anyhow
by the committee members
and actually is recommended
why should the public not know?
Obfuscation and party loyalty
on the damned Capitol Hill
seems scarier than I thought
Alas, all politicians can be bought!

Wall on Federal Hill

Wall Street bankers' greed
with the Federal Reserve
common man is nil.

My olfactometer run over by pinesol

Odors of strange kinds
bothers my sense of smell
overly to the extreme sensitive
to overpowering perfumes
or other icky scents.

Yesternight gagging
due to hubby's cleaning
- his use of pinesol -
threw me off and still today
I can barely breathe, yet -
because of this season
(allergies are the reason)
windows will be closed
to me and by me.

Therefore I postulate:
my human olfactometer
would be better than
the electronic nose
used as a gadget for
measuring the odorific* market
telling at least
manufacturing mega corps
that they have to clean up
their emanation act
and stop that "so-called
clean house" stench.

Clearing companies
to coin a new act
should be me and my nose
sniffing out the trails
of strong putrid
public and private scents
because smelling a rat
makes me sniff and puke!


(With the excuse to all the natural rats
doing what rats do)

*odorific: new word: signifying
a terrifying or a terrible or a terrific odor
depending on the eyes of the speaker or beholder!

Modern classical

My youngest, the clarinet player,
sang with his instrument last night
making stunningly modern music
most of it sounded great
and of course pride in my progeny
welled in my "motherly" brain
observing that I never knew
Hindemith sounded so classical
almost like Mozart -
a valuable teaching from a child
to an old one -
yes we can still evolve -
and do it every day.
Thanks for that lesson in music!

Unity

Unity in Juan Gris'
"Violin and Playing Cards
on a Table" is lacking
my student postulated
alas, I do not agree
but how to get her to see
that the violin he created
split an atom whacking
that is an avant-garde's
view of still life's unity.

p-words

As an account holder
you have to have a
password
another for your bank
account
oh
the tax man wants
you to sign in
electronically
more than one email?
never use just one
word
badies can get hold of
it/them
try remembering just
half of the words
and all of your accounts
I sometimes cannot
even remember
who I am?
but
yous39012344567tink!

Wrinkles

Botoxing wrinkles
would be great
if it were not
for one feature
poison into my body
does not entice
after all my wrinkles
are me -
more than anything
having had them
since the age of 15.
They have grown
with me, got one for
each time I fell in love
each child gave me plenty
and the death of parents
yielded more -
fights - sadness - joys
grand kids add a few extra
proud of my wrinkles
I am not but
they tell my story
as well as anything.

White page

White page
either paper or screen
starring humorlessly
at my tired eyes
demanding nothing
but attention
hey girly -
why don't you scribble
something worthless

you do that
all the time so
why not today, hey?

heart problems
of any kind do I care
I am white - bland -
anonymously ?
search for an adjective
finding none appropriate
the moment has passed
hey - lady
who calls yerself a
poetess - how flighty
the terms seem to erase
scrape - scatter
the letters over
the rainbow-lined sky

you are nothing but
some measly letters
put together in randomized
so called order
nothing that a monkey
would not eventually
come up with!

Ap(bc)elady - collect yours
and zoom off to
the land of no return
where you can say
all the words you want
but they have no
meanings whatsoever

return to the white page
and start all over
every time you feel like it
it ain't gonna be better
than last -
except for you.

me - I care not -
I just am....

Thi's timagain

Hurrah Hurrah
it's spring again
with that comes
sniffle snuffle
of the noses
not like a truffle
but of roses
in bloom
yet only to my doom
in April, May, June
hell breaks lose
a nose is like a pasha
my hope - alas - in vain
that once it will stop...
alas, not until I drop.

A hare's hop

First fine fit
flimmering flit
fairy, Harry
hail, not tarry
stop and wop
sing a string
over the rainbow
fling fling fling
where in the world
will Willy Nilly go
with a hop and a drop
and a red nose toe
up and down and
all the ground
will be a wee
bit sound bound
the hare whose hair
is floating on air
will grin and bear
willy nilly hare
goes a long way
to hear the thunder wonder
and flings his ears
for years and years
away with the tears
dropping from his eyes
he dries them and
so do I.

(Crazy poem a la Seuss)

Childhood friend

We grew up
you and I
next door
you were blond
I was darker
you followed
I led
or I followed
you led
so totally
different in
temperament
different in
styles
different in
tastes of
men
of choices
yet
through the years
you are my
chosen sister
because
you are the one
to whom I turn
when I want
to put over me
a well-worn
and much loved
security blanket
because you
never once
judged me!
A truer friend
there never was!

(To Hanne on her... ahem ..60st)

Telltale time

Terrestian terrors
of magnifying magnitudes
seem far off the horizon
when you live within
four walls of family visit
and the only people
who matters are of your blood
of your genes of you
One easily recognizes
the sameness of situations
familiar to every human being
living their part of the chain
nothing new - yey
all is altered because
the train keeps plodding
along so whatever little twist
changes from one time to the next
within itsself -
the reaction of years
differ - had I known
what I now possess of wisdom
then I would maybe have done
the deed differently -
this is futile speculative
idiocy of idosyncrasies
one can never go back
and rectify - and even if I could
the outcome may have been
differently diverse
or not....
Never go for the devlish
solution to wishful thinking
- only a foolish female
of romantic notion would still
want in her wildest dreams
but...
luckily little did she know
hallowed hello from her
utterly crazy girlish guilttrip.
lay off lady- get real
beckocning beat of a wayward
wind of the hell of a heart

Aussie lessons?

Kids running all over
wild little Aussie children
healthy and sound
not really caring about
whether the world's catastrophes
the politics, the sports,
only about their immediate surroundings
their parents, their toys,
their house, their cat,
nothing else matters,
on occasions their extended
family members -
Maybe we should all care
more about the people
close to us instead of
the politics of whatever
the bigger picture
creating fractals of our
own little neighbourhoods?

Genes R us

Genes are strong
much more potent
than I thought
they will now determine
my life forever
whether I fight it or not
I can no longer deny
that my father's heritage
live well within me
the bloody heart!

Little feet

Near the water
in and out of the blue
grandsons playing
on the beach
building sandcastles
destroyed by little feet
walking along the bay
soothing waves surrounded
the little family
on a holiday away from home
enjoyed the setting
and for sure the people
sound of the little feet
waking me up every morning.
You forget that sound
and now I hear it again.

Train ghost

The ghost on the train
into Melbourne City and back
was friendly but insistant
he was not going to cede his place
he hammered, he pounded,
he shattered my peaceful rides
I tracked his movements
it was not a battle I won.
The memory of two trips taken
almost two years ago stood out
he talked I listened
that was how I saw our relationship.
Now - he will never talk again
I shall forever bee haunted
between Ashburton and Flinders Street
and back
by a quiet August weekend
where I was allowed to relive
some point of my innoncent youth
thirty-three years gone by
Cambridge - Copenhagen - Melbourne
oh train spirit - I shall remember
because you are gone - spirit of poetry
of youthful hope and joy and resentment
because I could not love the way
you did - animus of mine
phanthom of my train ride today
you are dead - yet you push yourself
through everytime I ride that train
until I am gone too.

Grandkids crazy gallore

I have two grandkids
they are Aussie born
but their tempers are universal
eternally running wild
driving their parents
exactly to their breaking point
nothing new
no surprises
except that I their grandmother
had forgotten
how crazy it can sometimes get
but truly at the end of the day
the children are
just like my own
I survived,
they survived
and their parents will too
a phase that's all

Mid-Afternoon

after a day at work
dreaming of Starbucks
the first mate on
a whaler's ship
with a mermaid's logo
the coffee that I drink
equals in strength
and potency
wham - bang
the power
of my shipmate's
left-over coffee
from the morning,
cold ...
filled with milk
I savor the beans
enjoying a quiet moment
writing poetry
about drinking
cold coffee
on a misty Monday
in mid March

RR - hubby?

Looking at car ads
in the Saturday's paper
prompt my hubby to remark
instead of getting a new car
you could get a cheaper one
an old Rolls Royce
---
for what? impress the neighbors
baffle the friends
dupe my dead brother?
---
it is not my style
to have a fancy car
to want a grand house

I tell him bluntly
otherwise I would've had
another different spouse.

D-Sun

The sun is out
I am inside
I should be out
when the sun shines
however creating
a poem seems to be
more compelling
than vitamin D
yet, out is now
not in an hour
when the sun sets
abandon the net.

Greenish sign

Greenish lawns of grey wintryweary torpor
on St Paddy's day in full sun
aim low
a first yellowish daffodil unfolds its crown
on the Irish saint's dawn
neglect
what winter was - icy storms - grayish morns
on your lapel a shamrock
shines!

Depiction

the norm we follow
is what is general
for everyone
we follow fashion
we mold opinions
about all
the premise changes
and if we don't
our world chastises
the exceptional
yet the atypical
is uncomfortable
for most beings
in the animal world
you kill the weird
strange adaptations
of Darwinistic proportions
show competitiveness

of the present species
in our current society
we accept reluctantly
the odd, the strange,
the queer, the weird,
bizarre differences
a dyslectic genius,
an ALS physicist,
a homosexual artist,
the odd one out
often through
the so-called crazies
renewal will be found
borders expanded
visions broadened
horizons widened

alas money rules
talks walks and
the world follows

Virtual differences?

In less than 15 minutes
to Hawaii
to India
to Zimbabwe
all over the map - metaphorically
browsing the bouquinistes
at the quais of illusionary Paris
read an ode of a favorite scribe
listening all the time
to Mozart's requiem
this is our virtual world
trying to compose
a poem with sense, is that possible?
One day on the one hand
Ipod generation will lose their hearing
other - following day - nope, not true -
next, no focusing in the lecture halls
must prohibit the laptop
to take notes - it is back to
paper and pen - due to rookies'
wild behavior on the net
by not paying attention -
distractions always there
in our own minds - daydreaming
Now it is just virtual
but is it different?
A vicious pragma confronts
the virtuous pragmatism!
Nay, the incubus is you!

Hubby haiku

A haiku for you
mate, friend, lover, dana blue -
65 to you!!

Pastiche over old spring poems

All of a sudden spring comes fast
is it this time going to last?
or will it go back like in the past
few months - what a contrast
to blizzard and gray unsurpassed
this winter's blues has gone away
maybe to return another day
however while the sun surely strays
with its so warming welcome ways
I shall enjoy it - come what may!

Travelogue

Travelogue from a friend
reminds me of places
I shall never see
but it doesn't matter
because in my mind's eye
I have tripped more times
than I can remember.
Every time I open the newspaper
every time I see a film
every time I read a book
every time I listen to people.
I journey sometimes
further than I have ever even
wanted to wayfare
yet - the peregrinations
of Queen Mab's fairy dust
in which I desire to partake -
how deep I dream
is the hold she has over me.
Trotting with my fellow companion
half of the globe virtually
will never stop my wanderlust
Even though I may not see all
I call upon Dr. Faust's
devilish curious enterprise
riding into the sunset
with my desire to explore
intact, implicit or explicit.

Don't sweat the tiny stuff!

Somewhere friends are having lunch
outside on their terrace
while I am still huddling inside
due to chills and snow
somewhere my grand kids are frolicking
outside in the strong sun
while I am freezing and sneezing
because of winter's embrace.
Somewhere a friend is fighting
liver cancer and having chemo
whereas I am complaining of
the eternal sinus infection
realizing that I of course
am a lucky bastard with nothing,
but small stuff to worry about
when a friend is battling death!
I think of her beauty and joy
when walking across the fields
and meadows - knowing all her flowers
and anger raises in me asking why??
My thoughts follow her deeply
yet, I have to write her telling her
that she touches my life so
she does not know how I think
of her obvious gorgeous smile.
Sometimes you meet a person
whom you instantaneously like
I see her one New Year's eve
at our dinner table, gentle,
composed, resting in herself -
I sincerely hope she can battle
calmly, composedly, connecting
herself with her inner strength
and enjoy every day of her life
surrounded by those who love her.
Isn't that what life is all about?



To Carol

Day haiku

Just before my work
two cents of remarks describe
my gray wayward day

Antibiotic's probe

resistant microbes
to antibiotics
grows stronger
in some cases
they even combat
to cure and kill -
doctors want stronger
medicines to fight
the panopticon of
negative bacterias
alas, you have got
to be strong to go
to the hospital
or get off the exilir
of the 20th century
nature is always
stronger -
death wins every t i m
e

Fortune haiku

Fortune cookie dream
predicts saffron sunflowers
late in the summer!

Modern medicine ovation

chills down my legs
itching and streams
of warmth
deceptively
spinning like
the beginning
of an orgasm
except it was not
fearfully irritated
drinking water
and hurrying to the store
buying cranberry juice
drinking - water
peeing ever so often
alas - another antibiotic
for the cure
and eventually
recovery is sweet

The Volva's venting

her winter boots helped Vigga the Volva
as she was treading through the tedious snow
it was now an old hat that winter
hammered heavily every two days piling up
gray and grayer the whiteness became
along the roads - melting came slowly
when the sun definitely decided
to appear again on the open skies
shortly to dismount and leave for
rain and rain and clairvoyant clouds
she mused to herself which lately
had become a solace - her own voice
she felt alone in the vast void
although it was her own doing
she had no true energy this time around
her cavalier of her summer in the north
of whom she had vivid sensual dreams
did not make her morning peregrination
any happier or easier, just heavier..
and the blasted simulated whiteness
bothered her - she was longing
for love in all the usual places
not her daughter's filial love
but a sexual deeply satisfying lust
spread in her body defying the cold air
surrounding her, prompting her to walk
to her favourite spot in the woods
where she leaned against
a tree, (was it Ygdrasil as usual?),
staring wildly, blindly around her -
even daring to fantasize of the eunuch...
she was in a frenzy - not sensing anything,
but her own body inside her heavy winter cape,
hotly she reached down inside her gown
- her deft fingers finding the flower -
with her free hand fondling the nipple
one after the other, feeling not the cold
only the summer heat of her own yielding
building up the movement of her fingers
on her Venus mount - rubbing - until
the ecstasy and well-deserved release

she walked on down to the stream
washing her hands and splashing ice-cold water
on her hot and feverish face - she bent down
and thanked the goddess for at least
being able to satisfy her needs -
as natural as all other bodily functions
even though she was alone in her woods

Happy Hubby or Lourdes revisited

Stood in the shower
when
hubby exclaimed,
Today is a miracle!
Huh?
All the socks
matched - none missing!
Truly
it seldom happens.
Were we in caves
of Lourdes
today
we were graced
by the hose goddess.
Unique union
of a happy hubby
and settled socks
outside the bath!

Positively spring

Oedipus resurrected
Electra and all the rest
of the Greeks - mythology
ancient wisdom buried
deep in the Jungian archetypes
hidden away so deep
that only in fairy tales
and legends told by mother
can anybody find solace
(except religious believers)
and understanding of
the fellow mortals
adding on the person's
own life experiences.
Eureka for us who live -
there is always something
new to brave or espy!

Q?

Q - a questionable quest
a letter in the alphabet
becomes a challenge -
query a quarry?
Quaver and tarry!
As I must - alas -
onwards to the goal,
a recipe for success
is to carry
on the weird quest;
the end may be
chaotically quixotic.
Challenges picks at
the curiosity -
could not conjecture
sublimely or awfully
that for the scribe
the letter q
begins a novel
poem in the qth -
an occult picaresque.

(crazy poem dedicated to Ian Flemming's
Q who tried to create many
crazy devices (especially in the
movies) for James Bond and whose
view that you have got to try anything
whether it works or it needs refinement)

S'not

My nose is producing
my eyes are filling
coughs not too much
I'm not very seducing
It's truly chilling
I guess I'm a nonesuch.

Sole haiku

reading a new book
joyride to old nether-worlds
balms sad, phantom soul

A lousy poem

Another doctor - another appointment
another test - another disappointment
another day in the cold weather
another hey - a bunch of tether
constraint of a special kind
yes, I do I do I do mind
that my health is not my wealth
that I have to trim my belt
so this is a poem full of anger
I rather think of my French boulanger
than slim without drinking Pyms
a fairy tale of the brothers Grimm
would be for me a kind of sublime
this poem is a poetess' war-crime
since it's awful and therefore should go
and melt and be forgotten like our snow!

Banning the f-word?

Self-control of freedom is difficult
because freedom needs to be free
derogatory words of any kind
tell only of the owner's mind
and his/hers opinions, an emcee
of learned behaviors - an adult
but we should really applaud
a child's mind of maraud
saying the emperor's clothes
were nothing - just exposed
that we all control the freedom
of speech - self-imposed atom bomb

Stressors and lessors

Why do some people stay calm
and why do others worry?
To some rap music is balm
others their tempers flurry!
Could I trade my jarring humor
for a phlegmatic dudette
or a sanguine cool boomer
instead of feeling cold sweat
run down my spine every time
whatever hits my sole note
bangs my front like creeping thyme
sends fragrant torpedo boats
upsetting my inner press?
Yes, I would prefer relief
of my mind's running and suppress
what stresses me out - massif
soothing - ethereal surf
surrounding my endorphins
making me play like a smurf
on an Amati violin
to be free of what makes me
tumble my headstrong notions
in my being's bourgeoisie:
rethink my makeup's potions
without lessors and stressors
and bothersome whatevers
I would be an oppressor
renouncing me forever.

Gone Nuclear

Tests of various and sundries
because of a nervous heart
I had to get up this morning
it was not a very good start
I slept not at all in the night
due to the snoring of my knight
and I couldn't take any meds
so wandered in and out of my bed
and rose - no coffee - banned
a drink which kicks me awake
today I had nothing - just juice
it was harder than - understand
the test in which I had to partake -
I survived - the nuclear produce.

Starbucks here we come

Walking among the snowplowed streets
steering straight to the local Starbucks
which is the only entertainment close
in sun-filled, sugarcoated suburbia
my daughter, our dog and I harbor
a beacon of hope that it is open
after the snow - after the storm
we plod along, we thread on ice
in puddles, on packed snow, dirtied
by civilization's ultimate machines
to get what we were hoping for
a scrumptious caffeinated drink
only to turn around and spread out
the lasting sensual kick of our day!

Melted

the sun is heating again
melting, melting, melting
we fade into our routines
tomorrow
forgetting
the camaraderie of our abodes
keeping us sheltered
touching on occasions
of those who do not have
that luxury
(if it can be called so)
of having that cover
over their heads
stewing the soups
of yesteryear
in kitchens
the hearth after all
is steeping in winter
because we have to
acknowledge the frozen
the cold, the ice
and steam up the bodies
with work of shoveling
(which is not that bad
when you do it carefully)
after which you dissolve
the marshmallows
(if you have any)
in your hot cocoa
just as were you a child
coming in from play
in the frozen snow
you melt

Enough!

Enough tarradiddle
stuff of second fiddle
slough - stop the riddle
tough blowing twiddles -
alas humans have to always bow
fast to nature's whims bestow'd
blast - accepting the bloody snow!

A youthful yen

Paris a place - a man - a dream
a town where the poet matured
ancient fable's prince
hallucinations of freedom and art
how often to think back
on that tiny speck of time
when youth and joy and sadness
blended together in a cocktail
the Iliad denotes descriptions
of its royal harbinger of sad fate
where two centuries at least of
artists drawn to its hearth
you abandon your soul fervently
without thought of tomorrow
whether it is your prince (ha!)
your kingdom or your illusions
cause what is Paris without
dreams, hopes of betterment,
or realms of creativity
it is just a name among others
nothing more - nothing less
a chimera like the gargoyles
found on Notre Dame de Paris

Flying geese haiku

flying geese in v
wintry omen of new spring
joyous ride to south

Neologisms gallore in snow

The way of the word
words hurt
words soothe
words laughs
words pray
words ironize your speech
words create
words obliviate
words beat
words intellectualize
words becomes neologisms
like snowmageddon,
snowzilla on a day
where we await another storm
humbly I bow
to the words of euphemisms
creating one new
snowtology - just for fun!

tautology - snowtology
snowstorms being a bore

After the storm - a reckoning

wintry wild beauty
sparkling sun filled icicles
away from my cold house
from a friend's warm hearth
a full belly of
waffles, ham and eggs,
plus cold mimosas
add cappuccinos;
hardships are not hard
to bear and then
gratitude towards
sometimes modernity
is overflowing,
but most of all this storm
just like anywhere else
shows that hope is there
for altruistic attitude;
it is all around on
a rawish rebellious
unbridled upbeat morn
after a whitish wild
storm of unprecedented
surprising force
acknowledging that
friendly - climatic elements
have a lot in common:
you should never ignore them
but celebrate whatever
they throw along
even though when you have
a disaster like Haiti
or tsunamis in Indonesia
there is always hope
for a streak of humanity
to shine just like
the sun beamed crystal
a gem of new day

Snow ode

From unwinding Olympians
amusing themselves tossing
white droplets of cool
unto our brownish brackish
bluish moody mother lode
of terrestrial dirt and earth
we expect an abundance
of congealed, glaciated vapors
to cover up once more
to create havoc and assault
our everyday life with force
to compel the humans to stop
and relax for just one moment
to enjoy their brood or themselves.
The high mighty immortals
minister their mischievous
randomized manipulations
upon the little miniatures
called Lilliputians by some
and creatures by others.
In the name of humanity
take a moment and enjoy
the snowstorm - hibernating
not unlike our furry forefathers
and our female ancestors
inside a tent outside which
the wintry gales were howling
like wild wolverines outside
in the dusk of white and dark
seeing only the gray white carpet
becoming, beckoning to go out
and in spite of the churlish chill
break free and frolic in frosty
tenebrous tempting snow
and spread an rime-angel
in honor of the world spirit
who created the different tempers
of climate and choice.

Waiting for snow

waiting for snowstorm
with droplets of winter show
beauty for children

A Tableau

This winter of white and snow
is not the tide I will know
whenever, wherever I will go
wines of d'Oc and Bordeaux
will add to my daily plateau
driving my little red Renault
living in our small "chateau".
This dream is not H.D. Thoreau's
but mine and my beloved beau's
who elected to follow "quid pro quo"
before I lie not a feet below
but over the sea you may throw
my ashes and my thoughts of woe
this morning outside the window
I think of times past and status quo.
Lucky in more ways than many although
I have had my moments of dumb show
so ere quitting this ground I'll sow
a thought of joy and laughter aglow:
Take each day like the last rondeau
smile - a smile - it's your own tableau!

"Morrning walk"

news comes early
by way of a paper
today like any day
from its thrown place
sometimes on the grass
often on the blacktop
and rarely on the crisp
crunchy frosty snow
the full moon is lifting
the morning pattern
to a wondrous exploit
a gladdened moment
where all is still
saluting Selene

Oops!

Coming home from a lunch
not even having a munch
I take in the recycle bin
I drop it like a tin
my poor itty-bitty toe
was caught in between
now I sit - oh me oh woe
with ice and chagrin!

Cancer

A helper of death
I will sometimes linger
at others my job is faster -
never instantaneous
but I will get you
at your end, have no fear.
I am at his service
because I must obey,
my master Thanatos,
often Oizys blames me;
I cause much suffering.
Yet I am an Autochthon
born because my mission
is such that I invade
where I can for no
apparent reason
other than spread and kill.
For the love of Alcetis
oftentimes I let you be
and I stand aside to let
another fate befall you.

Why?

Now I know
exactly why
I dream of
living in
a village
in France;
it's simple
instead of
seeing only
parking lots
and boxes of
stores
a highway,
a few trees -
my eyes hit
when I go
from the
box store
in the village
vineyards,
mountains -
and more
vineyards
on a very
clear day
the Pyrenees!

ici- ici -ici

Mon coeur bats trop vite
les resultats pas encourageant
hier soir j'ai meme pense
peut-etre a l'hospital
alors je me suis mis a faire
des choses physiques
monter et descendre l'escalier
plusieurs fois - voila
aujourd'hui c'est mieux
mon coeur revient a 122:78
et cela c'est bon -
je sais bien pourquoi
je suis une bete
je veux vivre - mais ici- ici- ici