Sixty Years Hence

Happy Christmas Eve from Art and Words! 

Time wants nothing but what is beauty for the soul... ❤️

you

you turn me away 

because you say 

i might be dangerous. 

i do not beg you 

to change your mind. 

i cannot expect you 

to not be scared. 

but. 

if 

you close your eyes 

and ask to see 

true beauty,

it will come to you 

in the form

    of my hand 

inside of yours. 

it will come to you 

through 

whispered blood

and sinew 

that moves in 

your body now 

but started 

long ago 

in mine. 

Valentine's Day Cards!!

Our first batch of Valentine's Day cards are available! We want you to have cards for a variety of Valentine's -- loves, friends, teachers, kids, etc., so each night this week, we will post a different card. You can purchase them directly from etsy, or from us. Love is in the air! ❤️ https://www.etsy.com/shop/artandwords2015?ref=s2-header-shopname #artandwords

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 6/29/14 -- Reminiscing

I read a post today about reminiscing about the past. That inspired today's poem. 

Reminiscing 

Reminiscing. 

Of the days gone South 

remind you only of what you are without. 

There is nothing like living and learning, that's for certain,

but if you stay back in the seat of lies and dreadful stories and lacks of compromise,

You will lose your current self and give up any hope 

of rebuilding the shelf 

that is willing to store 

     the books,

     and carry 

     the weight. 

Walk forward and stand up straight. 

It's okay to stop to catch your breath, 

But 

if the motion contorts and forces your neck 

to stretch 

to the side that hurts the most, 

     Talk to it, listen to it, and then      respectfully ignore it (Or ask it to kindly F itself). 

Your current self deserves your time. 

Your self today did no crime. 

Live without exception 

and worrying about dots unconnected. 

The truth is, no one's (dots) are. 

Connected perfectly. 

They want what you want and you want what they want 

And if you talked about it, you'd see, 

Everyone's giving and everyone needs 

to feel 

and laugh 

and run 

and play 

and

Drink milk and eat Oreos and sing in the rain. We all deserve today. 

We deserve us. We deserve dried fruit and neon stuff. We deserve to listen to music about me and you 

where the lyrics remind us of the ones we are and were. 

Reminisce to the words you write yourself. It sucks ass to know you have the power sometimes,

But you do. And just as your mother (or third grade teacher) would say -- finish one thing before you start another. 

So fly your alien invaded spaceship up into the sky, sit down and smile and stop asking why. 

You're here now 

     and      alive. 

You lucky bitch. You deserve it. 

It's awesome. 

Embrace all good shit! 

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 6/15/14 -- Father's Day Part 2

My husband Scott and our daughter Skye

Yesterday, in honor of Father's Day, I wrote this Part 1 poem about my daddy and me at age six when he died. And, today... Part 2 dedicated to my husband. As I fell in love with the next most important man in my life, made beautiful babies, this age of six began to leave its mark in ways I'm still trying to understand. Even as I write this, I am learning more about me, and my favorite man.

Father's Day Part 2

When my daughter was born, I started to push
harder than I ever had before,
because I was afraid of loving you
and having what happened to me, happen to her.
The man I chose to worship and adore,
I feared would be no more...
so instead of holding you tighter and
bringing you in,
I built a wall of dried clay and mud,
and struggled to let you in.
We still loved,
but we spun and swirled in different directions.
We struggled to stay connected.
We didn't deserve it, but I thought we did.
So you ran away,
to the dog house of your youth,
you excused yourself,
and withdrew.
You who I chose above all others,
who loved me as a mother
and more than any other.

You will explain this all one day,
but in the meantime, I have a few things to say
about the man you are today.

My husband Scott,
father, lover, friend, and son --
you are a man of integrity and heart.
You read books about believers and mountains and art.
You lay down a blanket if our babies are cold,
you love to hold us, and cook, and laugh, and run.
I look into your eyes and I see a future so bright.
You are the man I need morning, noon, and night.
You are a part of me and I a part of you.
Our skin and souls and intuitions are connected to the wind.
I honor and respect you.
I love you, and will never shorten that phrase again.
Because once you find what we've found,
you never let it go.
Happy Father's Day to you, who I adore.

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 5/5/14 -- In Your Eyes

Motherhood (Photo credit Google Image)

I read this interesting headline tonight about motherhood awards in India. It made me think of my own children, and how they see me through their eyes, and what I see in theirs. 

In Your Eyes

In your eyes 

Of sweet blue 

I see my heart 

And truth. Hope lives

Inside your wide

Expressions. 

Your laughter and pain

I stare into them 

and 

practically 

Melt. Away. 

My job is honorable and

dignified. 

I smile because in your eyes

I am mom.

You deserve to feel me 

Wholly,

Faithfully,

Completely. 

In your eyes, 

I am 

Pure Love. 

Headline Poem 5/4/14 -- On her shoulder

Little bird (Photo credit Pinterest)

I came across this website today about all things birds. It inspired today's poem. 

On her shoulder

A bird

Free now,

Sits 

on her shoulder

In love. 

Headline Poem 4/12/14 -- Weightless

Surfline near Humboldt State  (Photo credit surf line.com)

I read this article about the horrible bus crash that occurred while students were on their way to visit Humboldt State University, one of my alma maters. The situation is so sad, and ten people have passed away. The tragedy has me reflecting on many things -- the juggling of normalcy and disaster, the way different people deal with something like this, the university and town of Arcata, small, isolated, unique, and coping, and the last line, "you could see the love..." It makes me think about life for all of us -- wondering what will be next, how the weight of burdens will be handled, understanding that there is no right way to deal with what comes our way, and that each day is a new day. 

Weightless

The weight is

released. free

to let go, or move on

to stay,  

to not know.

there is no stress

to guess

at what is next.

today is Saturday.

weightless, 

I rest. 

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 3/20/14 -- dear you

(Photo credit Pinterest)

Today is the first day of Spring. It would have been my grandma Bernice's 95th birthday. It is International Day of Happiness. And, I am in love... with love, with spring, with my husband, with my children, with my mom, with my breath, with myself, with art, with nature, with music, with poetry, with friends and family. Today, a love letter.

dear you,

today, i give you myself in spring
new, like flowers
bright, like sun
fresh, like grass
happy, like wind

when the new flowers bloom, the bright sun nourishes them, the fresh grass welcomes them, and the happy wind lets them go

thank you for embracing me in spring,
my gift to you

you deserve it

i love you,
me

Headline Poem 3/8/14 -- A Mother's Orchestra

In the news there has been a story about a pregnant woman who drove her three kids into the ocean. Another story explains that a mother and father left their kids in the woods. Today's poem is not about them though. I couldn't bare to put their stories into words today. I woke up today, as I often do, thinking about my own mom, me being a mom to my kids, my friends who have lost their moms, or who are watching them get older and change. I read a post on a friend's wall about some wise words of wisdom from her son about her own mother, and the strong bonds of knowing a person before they are born. This post, and the news about mothers (I suppose) inspired today's poem. Plus, it is International Women's Day. 

A Mother's Orchestra

A mother's orchestra plays with the strings from her heart

The notes are made up as she goes

Pretty melody and tear-jerking moves

tuned and tugged and strummed

she watches 

as her little boys become men

and her little girls become women

A mother's heart wants to wrap her babies up,

put them under her musicial wings

and keep them safe

But instinct tells her it cannot be

as difficult as it is, she must 

soak it up, 

And then even though it hurts,

give them space

For only with freedom will they learn how to play

Only with distance will they learn what 

to do

To tune, to tug, and to strum on their own

They'll come back one day

to their mother's orchestra

Where she'll be waiting 

With open arms and heart open

Like a well-used harp

Ready to listen to them play their own orchestra symphony. 

Headline Poem 2/15/14 -- A rock full of love

(Photo credit ABC News)

Ellen Page came out as a gay woman yesterday at the Human Rights Campaign's Time to Thrive conference benefiting LGBT youth. This poem is for her, and all of those needing a rock full of love. 

A rock full of love

There's been a boulder on my chest

Smothering my every move

Controlling who I love,

and what I show the world

Rocks aren't supposed to hold you,

or make you feel a fool,

But mine did because I let it, 

even it was confused. 

Most days I didn't care if my rock stayed there forever

Maybe it's for the best that you suffocate me so,

taking my life by squashing my breath,

the world doesn't need to know. 

Then I looked around at all the others stuck,  

and I called out --

Those fake rocks are hollow,

like paper mâché 

Not of the earth, they are man-made. 

Like balloons filled with water, or dirty air,

those inflated stones are heavy from our own despair. 

We can pop them. 

We can lighten their weight. 

We can control their strength. 

Together, we must give those ugly mounds a shove

They are not to hold us down.

 

From my rock I stand now, free and unafraid

My voice echos in the canyons... 

More love is made. 

Headline Poem 2/14/14 -- Loyalty

(Photo credit me)

In honor of Valentine's Day, a not-too-mushy poem about loyalty and love.

Loyalty

There is nothing more beautiful than a man in love

Weakened by a woman, and unafraid 

Constant as the break of day,

Loyal like thoughtful children who gather to listen, and to tell their tales of adventure

and sleep

Despite the arguments and miscalculations, 

He is comforted knowing she'll never leave

For although sometimes there is no bliss, there are always half-asleep reflections,

Woven apologies,

And the moment their hands meet

There is nothing more beautiful than knowing the birds will sing in the morning,

And she, loyal, will be waiting with a kiss. 

Headline Poem 2/13/14 -- No one tires

(Photo credit Jane Goodall Institute)

A chimpanzee named Wounda was released into a chimp sanctuary in the Republic of Congo last June. Before she says goodbye, she gives her caregivers hugs. The chimp's name means "close to death," and it is clear she appreciates their efforts to bring her back to health. The video and pictures of this event are just now gaining momentum because Jane Goodall's birthday is in April, and she is hopeful that images like this one will help her foundation raise more funds to save more animals. Today's poem is based loosely on this story.

No one tires

No one tires of the soul's genuine work and wonder,
fresh straw and rice grow without distraction or tampering,
natural the way lovers embrace, after a journey, by the moon, with the sun,
wind the only thing able to change direction

Honey from the bees, smile and say thank you
sweet and warm, there's always a bit that lingers at the bottom of the cup,
it is the sweetest, though many never discover it
drink from the one that's cracked, for it has had use, and is soft
no need to turn it around when visitors come,
the wise know there is no need

The soul's garden reveals when it is full of grief or love, unable to hide in the shadows
open like a mystic's eye that even when closed knows how to see
time lapses with the light, which retires and brings a new day
it will not remember the dirty heat, or the chains which some bear,
it is too in love with living to to feel anything but divine strength
drink it up because that is the essence in which we travel,
in which we are traveled

Sixty years hence, they will say with astonished energy,
remember the tests of nature
like raisins on the ledge,
treasures on the clay, golden from life
intelligent from the simplicity
wise from the freedom
younger because of desire
time wants nothing but what is beauty for the soul,
and no one tires of it

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