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

Le moment

J'attends pour manger mon petit déjeuner
ici aujourd'hui dans mon petit village
a Haiti ce n'est pas la même chose
et je n'ose surtout pas y penser
car ici je me sens si a l'aise
cela va durer assez un petit moment
je descends pour acheter mon pain
cela est presque un fait divin
je me sens dans un très beau roman
avec des bonne choses françaises

Best friends

A man at the beach with his tiny dog
she placated him by fetching the sticks
he threw here and there at it
I watched them for over an hour
they were their own best friend
I thought the man walked with a lady
the two did not meet at the end
the dog followed her master-lover.

Designing an Ikea kitchen

Designing a dream kitchen
is not an easy task
when you have an old house
you cannot have this
you cannot have that
I think I need a flask!
But it would have been
in infinite nightmare
without the cut and paste
Ikeas gives you first
a paper with board wares
with a lot of room to spare
then they come and design
your less than perfect plan
for me it took longer
I could not multiply
but then it worked oh man
I did not forget the garbage can!
So if anybody wonders why
Ikea has success just look
and see for your own self
how easy it is for clutches
to serve up a wonder of chinook
in an Ikea kitchen - you will cook.

Éloignée je peut entendre
les bruits des rues
les poubelles claquent
les chiens aboient
les chats dont il y en a
énormément miaulent
de temps en temps
les gens parlent doucement
ou des fois leurs voix
sont enragées bouleversées
tout passent d'un temps
a l'autre dans le village
comme partout, le village
c'est la compagnie
tu travailles des longues heures
c'est dans ton endroit
d'une grande ville
C'est partout dans la famille
car sans le village de mal
ou de la bonté c'est comme cela
parce que tu crées ton village
autour de toi - n'importe ou
et de n'importe quoi.

Shopping with Yvette

Traditions - they start how?
by people doing a feat together
nothing much - a meet of minds
if they both agree to like it
it will be done again on and off
not like making love
not like caring for a child
a dog, a sick relative
but because it is fun
traditions can be tribal
traditions can be unique
traditions can be traditions
just because you make them
on occasions they can be dreary
because a difficult uncle does
not like your mother's cookies
but then even that becomes a tradition
like yesterday - shopping with Yvette
is a fun-filled female sales' tradition

Lunch in France at home

A quiet noon in the village
not much going on
prepairng a lunch,
left-over heated up onion soup
left-over heated baquette
left-over tunamousse
and last but not least
two small pieces of cheese
each from a different region
a glas of white wine from
le bag in le box
followed by a coffee
and a small piece of chocolat
is it a wonder that it seems
so different from MacDonald's
furious and fast meals?

walking aids

yesterday at a flea market
my eyes encountered amounts
of visual left-over stuff
things unwanted
dolls loved but
their owners gone
where were the little girls
that might as a older person
used a walking aid
- there were too many
--- ---
canned canes left
that their souls stood tall
and would help others
they just laid tossed

their people .....

Clown's tears

Once upon a clown's face
a sad expression spread
it talked of oppression
it chatted wearily of death
there were no other mimes
who could show a mimic
so vivid that three times
she thought of limits
to life to joy to man
all that she held dear ran
down in a total blur
the tears of the farceur
streamed out so blunt
due to humanity's runt

les murs

Le soleil brillant avec le froid
donne la lumiere memorable
epoustouflante dans la poussiere
des vieux murs abordables

Age old puzzle

Vignettes of wandering souls
intertwined with ropes of fates
here and there they fray
there and here they play
their own warped way to desecrate
the expected correct way
to behave in order to achieve a goal
for what purpose do we live
an egnima no one can solve
yet- humans - try to evolve
the answer perhaps is to give.

Just a little whiff of my familiar

Pictures of grandsons
makes me sad and proud
proud cause they grow
sad cause they no show
in my everyday life
in my thoughts however
they prosper for ever

Lost sleep

In middle age
we women toss and turn
so often I hear
I read at night
try not to disturb
the male snoring
next to me
Rarely I encounter
a man who loses
the second nourisher
as much as
the female species
and yet they demand
as natural as hell
that we shall remain
the same day in-day out
when we cannot even
think straight.
I applaud all females
who has turned
and yet survives
the middle age

I sure hope
one day
I can sleep
again

That wish I get
in my death
- but

I want to live
and exist without
fuzziness and
feeling lousy

Pills can help
sex can help too
but is that enough?

Babette a Beziers

Un brouillard du soir
au milieu de l'hiver
fait rêver Babette
autour d'elle il y avait
des aventures nocturnales
elle se sentait - horreur
plus mal a l'aise
qu'a sa ville natale
Paris avec ses coins
des mecs et des putains
mais la pauvre s'est effrayée
car dans le crépuscule
il y avait des jeunes mâles
avec des gestes menaçants.
Babette embrassait angoissée
son ami avec qui elle sortait
et disait, tout a fait sérieusement
"J'ai peur, cher Jean Luis,
et je ne veux plus de la vie de midi.
Je rentre chez moi - a Paris
la je connais mon local"
Comme cela finissait l'histoire
de Babette a Beziers - vraiment
le cauchemar d'une dame absorbée.

Al a Da Li

Portraying surre a listic ten den cies
an d ero ti que grot es ques
a la DA li
requires more than automatic writings
it de mands perfection
ala daLI
but in Figueres in Cat a lo NIA
you c an fi nd j u s t t h a t
a LA d ali
Where the pai ntbr u sh met the can vas
whe re the mas t er' s struck
AL ada LI
Min atur es - m An o FL amanc Ha
lots of p ORT raits of g aLa
a lada li
O nly d Eat hsto pp ed the pha ntas mic
moto risa tions oFh is wiiiiinnnnngggsss
alaDalI

A mouse

In my little French house
lives a little French mouse
it eats my cheese and bread
but when I leave it dreads
that it cannot be fed
and it turns into a grouse
growing thinner and thinner
it pines and it screams
it is absolutely no winner
then when I return to Cazouls
it grows bold and demands
that I satisfy its cravings
with sausages and moules
it holds so thight the food
with its little hungry hands
that I to my face saving
gives it everything it needs
then the mouse and I are at peace.

(beginning a poem a la dr. Seuss

Cazouls

Cazouls dans la pluie
entre deux nuages
l'hiver a Noël
mais la chaleur interne
dans mon corps
brûle comme un jour d'été

Sad Christmas story

A man at the next table
Christmas day sunny
he commanded another glass
of white wine - then
he struggled to get up
talked in a beautiful language
yet - stone drunk
fell down struggled to get up
sad and lonely -
got slightly abusive
with the owner- who promptly
removed the man's mobile
- he calmed down - drank a little
and paid up - never saw if
he got his phone back
- a sad Christmas story
from a small town somewhere

Copenhagen

My beauty of a city
a battle cavorting
too much cauterisation
of our civilization
much less concern
for all the world's countries
a too grand compromise
the democratic chattering
for our deliberating climate
where was Churchill
with his demands of cooperation
in view of the greatest calamity
we all lost in Copenhagen

Reality check

would I be going far back
when the building of the pyramids
took place
would I be forwarding to a
distant future on a faraway planet
would I be there in the renaissance
with Leonardo and the biggies
or would I be part of Mozart's entourage
singing my head of in the Magic Flute
would I be a Celtic wise woman
or a Nordic ditto
would I be a slave on a ship
going from Africa to the States
would I be an English proper
lady married off to an Australian
would I be jet-setting with the
Fitzgeralds on the Rivera
none has my fate - no one will
anybody would not be - nobody - me
somebody could say she was
me - and that someone is I

Sleep school

In far away Aussie
they have sleep school
for newborns and their parents
how come that oldies
like me who is awake at 2:58 am
cannot go to sleep school?
It is inconceivable
that it can be that difficult
to go to sleep and stay asleep
Granted with the lack of
a certain droplet in the system
I cannot go to Morpheus' realm
Oh to be a baby again
and snooze long hours
Oh to be a teenager again
and doze off in never never land
I wish I could
I wish I would
Toot - toot - toot

Steve

Far away in France
So near in my mind -
a human light went out,
an accomplice in life -
a friendly, complicated
soul of flamboyant bent
with an old school tie
sense of humour and
wicked ways,
but underneath the finish
an unpolished direct
heart of humanity
accepting not his final lot
still fought recklessly
for a fairly long time.
Far away in France
close to home -
Ave Cesar - morituri
te salutant.

ISFP!?

Introvert
looking for reasons
within myself
going the extra mile
to see why
Sensor
earth mother I am not
but having two feet
on the ground
a tad too much
Feeler
of respect to others
knowing almost what
they will say before
they say it
Perceiver
flipping more sides
of the coins
to make a sensible
decision for all
And this will
make the portrait
of an artist????
Where are the dares
in all this?
Where are the unfits
to the mold?
Where are the crazies
in the yield?
Where are the zealots
in the world?


(Inspired by the poetess taking
a personality test)

More mindless morning

I found the missing boots
they were behind in the closet
where they belonged
I need sense or I posit
that my hubby and I
could not find the waders
tearing - looking
all over for the evaders
where will it all lead
to the grave we heed
I cry and laugh - so minute
this scheme of nil - en route
Walk the dog - clear the mind
smile - you are one of a kind
on the mindless morning where I found the boots
maybe it was the elf in cahoots
with the house to teach me a lesson
end of this crazy - story - session!

Mindless

Lost - clueless
which I bought
and have searched
ever-which-where
for a month
but the item
is gone - not there
nor here
so I have to
rebuy the boots
because winter sets
in with cold and frost
my old toes need
the warmth - yet
I am out in the cold
cannot find them
at all, I am sure
I hid them - so
my mind has begun
to go - alas
I am mindless!

Thanks for the pains

Pains - awake me
pains - aware me
that I am alive
and for that
I am thankful!

A sore song

...
suspicious sore
somewhere
makes the owner
aware
of the time
and its flying
somehow
the inherent
scare or fear
will contribute
to how the battle
is won
-
in the long run
it is lost
of course
add raveling
- fighting -
sing and rattle
not wrong

Listen to the dryer

Churning dryer
means the wash
has been done

Churning mind
means the thought
has been minded

Churning washer
means the idea
has been gone

for a long
- long time

Turning the tuner
means the music
has been changed

Turning the music
means the time
has passed

Turning the time
means the past
has been d/gone

for a long
- long time

An oldiess choice

Sleepless nights
awakening at 12 am
3 am - 2 am
estrogen deprived
however - when
an oldiess awakes
and her mate is
snoring next to her
two choices appear
she can have sex
or go to sleep on
a sofa, a bed,
anywhere else away
from the snoring.
Not all the time
she will be ready
for sex but
it sure beats
a loudly snoring
mate!

The Vølva ressurrected

Vigga the Vølva who was
the one there never was
only in the poetess
imaginary world
but she lived for her creator
who could not let her go
she became real
a embalming friend
ending up controlling
her diminutive mindset
with different kinds
of loaded or unloaded adjectives.
So she did not
walk off into the sunset
but is still roaming the earth
to observe the foolish
lovable hatred of mankind
for what purpose we create
wars and murder and mayhem
boiling down to only
lack of understanding and
education with a unhealthy
pure egotism built in.

No worries she will be back
with a volvatic vengeance!

Twilight memories

Twilight on a November afternoon
shows me the memory of youth
was it when I said goodbye
to you the first time or the last
that doomed silvery reddish sky
before you left for home
I truly felt - never again
and yet now I wish for years
that I never had
or will have
futility and yet fertility
in the poet's mind
because out of chaos
comes a blip and out of
a pop ... a chimera...
a vision of long forgotten
very hot desires -
a passionate embrace
if only in the deepest dark

Twilight when I was young...

Skype haiku

Tonight I shall see
my grandkids on Skype and we
shall talk the no talk

hardboiled eggs

Hard boiled eggs
ham and jam
is the breakfast
I don't need
I just eat
a 'nana and yogurt
but truly sometimes
I wish I could savor
ham and eggs
and all the jolly fat
instead of relishing
my meager meal
yet I should not pout
but sing joyously
cause I get food
when others don't
therefore
hardboiled eggs
and ham and jam
you are fluff
and that is all

Running virus

Runny nose rules me
Runnymede rules alas
murder mayhem rules the world
scarred and sacred is the population
of viruses yet they proliferate
in me they battle
outside the poetess they fight
who will win?
the virus or the human?
The nature of the vira
grows virulently
in all directions
it could be a band, it could be a commune,
it could be dance or a protein,
what a virus is not
is a peaceful endeavour...
Runnymede's Magna Carta
written in blood of generations past
my virus today fights my body
running away - running amok
running - running - runn...

Mr. Somebody

For fun he did it
for fun he won it
for fun he was applauded
for fun he went out on a limb

it was not for fun

after all

Being/nothing/exist

Fairy fairy fey
today is the day
where you shall reign
over my heart's domain
for whatever is what
for whenever is hot
if you cannot find
my brain's online
I might as well be dead
nothingness instead.

Levi-Strauss in a nutshell

Existential tribalism
tribal structuralism
structural linguistics
lingual anthropology
anthropological morphism
morphical existentialism

hommage a Levi-Strauss

morphical: tiny initial
structural phonemenal

Masks

we all wear masks
one for ourselves
deep inside
one for our loved ones
closer to the wall
one for our friends
peeking over the wall
one for everyone else
our backs to the wall
we all wear masks