Headline Poem 7/2/14 -- because they feared

(Photo credit Google Image)

I read this tonight from NPR about a huge new invention that takes down a 30 foot tree in 15 seconds. Fast, efficient, and "built for busy humans," this inspired tonight's poem.

because they feared

in a matter of seconds
a tree
thriving
is uprooted.

  revealing
that what appeared
  to be living
was actually dead,

and
no one was
acknowledging it

  because they feared

that
maybe
 
it was theirs

Headline Poem 6/24/14 -- Life

Elizabeth Gilbert's new book The Signature of All Things was released in paperback today. She is promoting it all around the world, and once I finish the eight books I have lined up ahead of this one, I will read it. In the meantime, I reflect on life. 

Life 

I want to grow old

with sagging body and forgetful mind. 

I want the dirt of the earth to 

welcome me home. 

   (Though 

   Not 

   Today. 

I still have tens of thousands of words to read,

signatures to write, 

And miles to explore). 

I know I'm needed. Here. 

In the flesh. 

Where yellow is still yellow, bright and new. Where rainbows appear after a darkened time -- 

colors so bright 

you almost beg again for the storm. 

But. That's not how it works, thank goodness! 

I want to rock wrinkled (one day) on the porch

With a cool drink and mountain view and recall the days of sunburns and stingrays. 

I want to do that with you. 

I want to smile down at my feet, crooked and curved in all kinds of strange ways because 

Ripples are my favorite things. Always have been. 

Ever since I was a kid and 

realized 

Way leads on to way... & that today connects to yesterday. Toes are like that in the end. 

Familiar like old friends. 

I want to complete this life with no hunger inside, 

Not starved or lacking of 

Compromise. 

I want to see me through a looking glass decorated with beads 

and see

A woman who 

in the best and worst of times hung her head so high

People thought she'd fly 

With airplanes and their wings,

Loud, 

led by a pilot trained in loving rhymes, master balancer of speed and time. 

I sleep knowing 

you know me so well. I wake 

feeling content because I believe 

In eagles and wildflowers and paradises on earth. 

I am lucky because I've been alive since birth. 

Headline Poem 6/19/14 -- In a turbulent storm

A special called The Sixties aired tonight on CNN. Here is tonight's poem 

In a turbulent storm

You called my name

But I let the waves take the sound away 

With the seagulls above 

And the fish below

I wasn't ready

I said no 

The echos were distracting

Was that my voice or ours, or

a combination

Which somehow seems worse (it's better to choose)?

The mermaid multiples and seductive sand

Took a stand finally to reveal a plan. 

She

Must

Find

Out so 

that both of them can

Swim in the crescent 

Harvest and hidden

Under water land. There is space now for them to see the flesh of each other. 

The eel and the weed of sea 

Rescue thee. Please rescue me. 

She waits 

He waits

In a turbulent storm. For now it is over

Death skipped their door. 

It pours no more. Until it pours again. She's ready. He's sworn in. 

Begin again. Begin again. 

Headline Poem 5/21/14 -- Reflections from a Bench

(Photo credit Google Image) 

Tonight I read that Disneyland is overcrowded and has two choices: raise prices or expand. I thought about Disneyland, and how much I enjoy watching the people while I'm there. I reflected, and then wrote this... a poem loosely based on this headline. 

Reflections from a Bench 

Because I love you 

I will keep you safe

And agree to attempt to fall for 

The new man you have become,

the one who drinks warm tea and honey 

And mends his own heart with books and conversations about his youth 
and the women who broke his heart 

while he stayed patient and faithful. 

Until, with me, you broke and the pieces flew in all different directions,

While I gladly watched the wind that blew,

accepting that I could not fix the mess alone (if I wanted to), 
and resented that you'd even ask,

But really, all you wanted was to feel love and connection from the woman who promised 
never to push you away,

And really, all I wanted was the same. 

On the day I started to leave, and you decided to stray, 
the tiny compasses drawn on the palms of both of our hands were erased and lost. 

Kisses made their way to others, 

Circling where they could not see, 

Because it was dark and spiraling downward

And a place they should not have been. 

Now though, as I sit and think, 

I realize in an odd way,

It's a beautiful thing. 

Headline Poem 4/13/14 -- apples

(Photo credit Google Image)

I want to be respectful of the victims and family members of today's shootings in Kansas. This story inspired today's poem, but like so many poems, it is a piece of the headline, sometimes just a word, or sentence that leads to the actual focus of my poem of the day. The line that caught my eye today was, "If we had the slightest hint it was going to happen, we would have done everything we could to stop it." This is where today's poem becomes extremely loosely based on this headline, and more about a bigger picture, and whether or not certain events in life can or should be prevented. 

apples

rotten apples 
bear good fruit
sometimes
it is worth the time
it to cut around the
brown and 
mushy
to eat 
what tastes good, 
and is not
too badly bruised.

some apples taste better 
when they fade.
discard or 
pick another
to avoid the 
ugly,
and you 
ignore the sweet. 
you forget the tree. 

some think 
they will  
never pick a rotten apple. 
or 
never keep the one that fades,
but some 
do not know
that apples are like you
and me.

Headline Poem 4/6/14 -- some are better prepared

Tornado (Photo credit Yahoo News)

I read this article about tornado-prone Oklahoma, and the line that caught my eye was "some are better prepared..." I thought wow, that could relate to so much!


some are better prepared

some are better prepared
to take

the news that rattles and
spooks without warning,
no time to duck, cover, or
hold on for dear life.

some are better prepared
to let

it wash over their bodies and
face. clean. like a fresh start.
or a new flower, growing along side
a field of beat down weeds.

some are better prepared
to release

the nastiness and stench of a thing
that they did not ask for, and are forever questioning.

some are better prepared
to close

their eyes to betrayel
that knocked on the door and let itself in
with a secret key. secrets love company.

some are better prepared
indeed.

Headline Poem 3/31/14 -- Down the road

I read this headline today -- about a dying man and his daughter. The community came together to create a special memory for them. One line caught my eye, "Down the road." Of course having lost my own dad young, I understand that line. The little memories I have mean so much, and down the road, they make me smile, and love everyday. 

Down the road

Years from now, down the road, you'll remember the aisle

you walked holding his hand, the last gift he ever gave to you, solid, where layers upon layers of hope and fear collide, in this memory, for life. 

You know he'd give anything to stay, but he can't. That's not how it works. 

Like a pebble, small but mighty, you'll smile with sunshine in your eyes, happy to have lived with him, happy to be alive. 

Down the road, there will be times when you'll curse the stars, and be upset for what you are without. 

You'll know how longing feels, true. 

But, you'll also know how high you can climb, and that you have gifts, insights, and a friend on the other side. 

This loss will allow you to connect with others who know how it feels, famous authors, strangers, and characters who seem real. 

Life will lead you through adventures, license plates will pass from differents states and countries. 

People will share their memories with you, letting him live on through them. 

The hardest part may come when you have children of your own. 

You'll be sad for what you are without, and may fear what they could lose, like you, but it will teach you about strength and being nice. 

There may be some who will try to knock you down, who will see your vulnerability as weakness, and may even try to use it to get ahead. 

You'll see through them. 

You'll see what's real.

Vulnerability is strength. It means you are alive. It means you feel. 

Trust your gut, even when some people say you have a hole. Do not let them tell you that is weak. Holes are everywhere. 

If someone tries to use that against you, know that they are probably hurt. 

Write love letters, write for you, even if someone tells you not to. 

Climb mountains. Jump with frogs. Drink fine wine. Laugh at yourself. 

Visit with true friends. 

Listen to poems. Let them take you where they will. 

Let the ocean splash inside of you. 

And no matter what, give and receive love.
His absence will hurt, but it is also the greatest gift. 

Headline Poem 2/19/14 -- much to marvel over

(Photo credit Rick Smolan/Against All Odds Productions, 2012)

Today is Amy Tan's birthday -- Happy birthday! She wrote an eloquent and reflective Facebook post this evening about how grateful she is to live the life she does -- as a writer, wife, dog owner, daughter, granddaughter, and friend. Her post ended with this line, and has inspired today's poem... "I wish you many things to marvel over."

much to marvel over

sometimes its's hard to be grateful
without sounding superficial
and materialistic
because really
all that matters
is food,
water,
shelter,
and love

there are those

who do not have what
we consider to be enough
limbs
friends
cash
they lack,
but are rich in ways
that those with money for days
are not
(poor are those who sit as the sun goes
down and only notice the bugs)

much to marvel over
when you have someone
who looks at you
and knows
when it is time to stop
and talk
and when it is time to walk away
(do they know you better than you do?)

much to marvel over
when you know when to follow
the recipe
and when to play it by ear
a pinch of this, a pinch of that
a meal on the table,
cooked with love
(perhaps with a little more salt and butter than you're used to,
but you're not complaining)

much to marvel over
when there is a soul
in this world
that can silent laugh with you for four minutes straight
triggered by a childhood memory
or running late
(bonus when it is your mom
who you used to make fun of
for the way she dressed, especially the colorful socks that matched nothing else)
and now in subtle ways,
you are proud to become like her
when you simultaneously and uncontrollably
giggle
until you can barely breathe
needing a tissue to wipe the happy tears
from your shiny face

much to marvel over
when you enter your house after a long day
knowing there will be free entertainment,
which may include
magic tricks,
a fresh game of go fish
dancing to music you know nothing about,
or silly, wiggly jumps from the couch
(back up, back up, you are too close)

much to marvel over
when you make connections
to the things you feel
and see
knowing your gifts and limitations (and sharing them)
times to push
and to
let things
simply be

Headline Poem 1/25/14 -- My dream is to wake

(Photo credit Angelo Merendino)

Today's headline poem is based on the love story of Jennifer and Angelo. Jennifer, pictured above, passed away in December of 2011, at age 40, from breast cancer. Her husband captured the entire battle in photographs. His pictures take us on their journey of strength and integrity -- of dying, and and loving someone who is dying. Today on his Facebook page, "My Wife's Fight with Breast Cancer," he posted that he is selling copies of the picture above to raise funds to participate in an exhibit in Maine, where he will once again share the story of he and his beautiful wife.

My dream is to wake

My dream is to wake every morning,

rested from a night of sweet slumber

Wrapped in crisp, breathable sheets

To these eyes of brown 

And the smile that melts all hearts

It is a dream because although I wake to the beauty,
it is only in pictures that I see the most amazing woman,
and touch the softest of skin

She is shared with the world now
Cancer took her
like she has taken us

We are still allowed to dream, laugh, spin, be free

I want to always remember the love of life through death
the fragility of it
the complete powerless vulnerability that is breath
the smell of seasons and salt, and fresh cut grass
my dream is to wake, taking all of this in
because she cannot

Now she smiles elsewhere with her healthy body 

and soulful love, always near, but never here

knowing his dream is to wake, 
beside her, 
she follows him where he goes... he knows 

Headline Poem 1/20/14 -- Happy, now and then

(Photo credit Pinterest)

Today's poem came from the headline, "Happier people keep healthier as they age." It makes sense that the happier you are, the healthier you are. The article even notes that helping older people stay happy is good for the individual, and for society. I just finished a bike ride and picnic with my husband and three kids, and this article from LiveScience inspired me to reflect a bit on my life now, and then.

Happy, now and then

I know there will be a day when I will wake not because there is work to do but because there is nothing particular to do, and I will decide where, and if, I'd like to begin

The house will demand straightening, but the beds upstairs will already be made in the mornings, instead of messy from dreams of goblins and princesses -- oh how I will miss that!

There will be no cereal, or jelly on the table after breakfast, no socks littered at the bottom of the stairs (unless they're mine), no yelling out reminders to brush hair and teeth, or time-left warnings of 5 and ten minutes until... 

I know one day I will calmly walk through the house contemplating which album to play the whole way through 

My husband and I will sit peacefully on the porch, like we do now, listening to the church bells and birds, and talk about the day

We will smile fondly, even longingly, when a young family passes by... we remember those days, we will say -- it wasn't easy, but it sure was fun

I know that one day life will be simpler and quieter and completely up to me, and him -- we will have made it through the wild years, and will know what that means like no one else

Memories of us are ours, things only  we've shared will hang in picture frames, and be recalled over dinner with friends 

The relief will show in loving lines across our faces, deep and defined, because we earned them 

We will be super heroes with silver hair sharing a life that's completely different, but still ours, ready for round two