Poem: Speck And Observation


The rain it falls

and forests burn

Pink sun she rises

constellations turn

 

Insects forever crawl

dull rivers flow

Hot deserts whither

Nor’easters blow

 

Dirt and bone

we come and go

The earth moves on

and does not owe

 

 

Advertisements

Clarity


Seeing people for who they really are, whether they are homeless or our closest friends/family, can often be challenging. As humans, we spend a lot of time trying to create comfort around us, and this may include internal comfort also. Living in a world where situations can bring us discomfort, our brain will do as much as it can to remove the ‘bad’ stuff; erase memories or twist pictures before our eyes into something we’d prefer to see.

Seeing the world around us without our rose-colored glasses can often be painful, on a personal and global level. It may reveal our own child as a drug addict or a fellow human as hungry, neither snapshot as something we want to see.

But both these things are truths before us and must be acknowledged. They are drastic cases of what we see when we choose to have our eyes truly open to people around us. How do these things make us feel about these people and how do we react in response? Afterall, it does not change the fact that they are both humans still…

What if what our eyes remain closed to simpler truths about someone else? Things that just make them who they are, but different from you and I? Have we truly listened and accepted what someone has told us about their feelings or needs? Or are we trying to change them to fit into our agenda?

It can be a challenge to accept someone just as they are; especially when they look or act differently. Each day the world seems to become less and less accepting and we drift farther apart from our shared humanity.

Respect and listening. If we felt heard and respected, no matter how minor the role we may play in this game called life, then we can feel here, human and a part of the whole.

 

 

 

 

 

Honey, I’m Home!


Recently I was watching a video (a funny one) that was on one of the late night shows about how there are these Robots with AI that are being used for certain ‘relationships’ I won’t really get into here. I’m not sure if it was real or humor in response to all the out pouring of sexual harassment allegations that have hit the news lately. In any case, it was a moment’s pause where laughing was medicine in an otherwise very un-funny situation.

But the whole idea made me think. Having been a single woman for a very long time, I wondered about the concept of Robot companions–not at all in the way that this particular video mentioned, but maybe more like an R2D2 sort of way. Could this be a possibility for the future? Our own home companions or partners?

I mean, let’s face it: I’ve “been there, done that” and bought every possible T-shirt for trying to date and find the right person for me. Over the course of years I’ve been single (and I’ve actually lost count now of the years), and the stories I could tell about the weirdos I’ve come across on the websites would make hanging out with a machine seem like heaven. Humans are scary and/or boring.

Picture it: instead of pouring through 100’s of  old photos and fake profiles of humans, you could simply pick out which Robot best suits your needs; short, tall; human looking (creepy) or not; male voice, female voice; appendages or just lights. Then, you could have the AI programmed to whatever things you enjoy or are interested in–think of all the data that could go in there. No more dates with someone who is clueless! Ah the dinner discussions!

Honestly, I’m not so interested in much of an emotional attachment anymore, although some of these Robots you see in movies are pretty darn cute, way cuter than some of the people I’ve tried to date! It’s all about communication anyway at my age, or maybe even helping out around the place. So if you read a good book together, you could discuss it. Or maybe go to a movie together. There could be special all terrain Robots built for hiking too.

The possibilities are really endless here. Robots are filling in so many areas of our lives anyway, why not becoming part of our family? Yes, I understand there is a bit of a spooky part of it; the whole bit of them taking over the world, infiltrating our homes and getting smarter than we are (which isn’t a stretch really). Sure, this could certainly happen…

But before they do decide to take over, having a companion that’s smart, reliable, predictable, neat, sympatico and maybe even agreeable would be such a nice change. And maybe having one on your side might just be an advantage when push comes to shove and Robots gain power over us.

Because, if there are bad ones, then there will be good ones, and they will be the ones we shared our homes with and loved.

Poem: Choices


Howling thoughts in my head

lying awake in my bed

my soul is filled with silent dread

Walking in the night alone

the trees can’t speak but can only moan

it seems the world is stripped to bone

Figures hide behind every door

and seeing kindness is no more

times of love have turned to lore

Where has all the beauty gone

the lovely eve and blazing dawn

humans now are all just pawns

They had the chance to save the earth

to clean their mess and show their worth

and instead of killing choose re-birth

But time slipped on and they lost their way

most figured it would happen on another day

so in the end sweet home was left to pay

***

In my mind I know this is not yet true

yet slight is the chance to make it new

bring back life to this planet blue

As time is running out for you and me

for every animal, bird and tree

It’s all our jobs to set us free

Rabbit Ears


Sometimes we have a hard time tuning in our lives, as though we are passing through a magnetic anomaly or concentrating our physical self in an area that could be a place considered  opposite of where a lei line would be, permeating bad ju-ju. So during these times we’re a bit like those old TV’s we had with the rabbit ears; the ones we had to keep messing with in order to get even a partial picture on the set. But mostly the channels that came in were simply static–that crackly white noise, which blurred in front of our faces with maybe some echo of a scene behind the black and white lines squiggling on the box in front of us.

Try as we might to move the antennae around (or physically pick them up in desperation), and add  aluminum foil to the end to extend their reach, we’d barely see much, only once in a while–if we were lucky and the weather patterns cooperated. Then lo and behold, an image would form and we could watch the world play out in front of our eyes. We’d sit frozen, captured and greedy because finally everything was in focus–if only for a moment we were mesmerized.

I pass through these moments of clarity where my world feels in focus. Where I feel I have tuned my antennae correctly for once and that I am standing in a place of great rightness. I, too, stop and stare, because it is unusual and crisp and clear. It feels odd at these times, like not quite my self, but more ethereal ready to disappear back into the scrambled and distorted reality I’ve become used to passing through. It is a stunning feeling and gives me pause. At these times I feel outside reality.

So when these times of sharpness come; when the world appears more brilliant and the fuzzy noises that threaten those flickering frames where we see things distinctly are suddenly quiet, it gives hope for one day having a steady stream of these moments. Is it finding the lei line and absorbing its energy? And once there, adjusting the rabbit ears permanently in the position of the clearest existence.

 

Poem: Madness Approaches


There is an otter swimming in the tub

and chimps that wear evening gloves

Sometimes a little gray mouse

playing  music with her beloved spouse

Or a drowsy dreamy sloth

sipping upside down chicken broth

And the sleepy lion laying near

is too lazy to really fear

While nearby drying with a towel

found in the bathroom is the owl

In every corner of these rooms

birds chat with Vidal Sassoon

On a chair tucked away in the back

some lumbering bear his toupee so black

Little creepy crawly insect things

with ancient writing on their wings

All these creatures just hanging plain as day

looking like they’re here to stay

Maybe it’s all not so bad

the outside world is just as mad

 

 

 

 

Poem: Hurricane Reverie


Weathering a storm

laying flat

floating on a yoga mat

deep below the pressure

The careening dervish slicing bits

sharp edges

protruding from parts long ago

They fall

in shards, scattered

around a weighted form

marking the image: a murder mystery

Who was this person

lying heavy upon the shores of then?

Hovering spirits

caught on the updraft

and spewed from the cone

find her unrecognizable

The devastation blew heavily

over the solitary shape

silently still upon the floor

What life remains

when hit head on

and looking at the world

from above?

 

Poem Art: The Sentry


bookmark

Years of giving

torn from the skinned Birch

to carry others

across rushing waters

while naked the Tree remains

rooted

watching

as the world walks away

Not listening

to the endless clawing on Jesus arms

the sucking tendrils

that have grown up

twisting themselves around

the age-old rings of Her heart

Move on! Move on!

whispering through the thousand hands

waving goodbyes to those

that left her standing

still

and siphoning life from

dirty earth thrown down

around Her

Immobile

a sentry seasoned with sight

the beacon to set others

on their way

But forever bound and grounded

in the place she chose

to be born

 

 

 

Just Right


“In the right place, under the right conditions, you can finally stretch out into what you are supposed to be. ” — Lab Girl by Hope Jahren

 

How long do we wait for the right place and the right conditions? It may seem to some of us that we take a long time to stretch out; that we spend much of our lives contorted and bursting apart just to come together again. I have.

The right conditions seem to involve some sort of special magic; a particular brew that mixes together to concoct the spell where the microcosm in which we move feels easy and the skin that we wear no longer needs tailoring.

Some folks that we meet seem to have been born with this magic as they whirl around with the twinkling Universe hovering nearby. But most of us aren’t so lucky. Some of us seek it, but I see now this maybe isn’t how it works. It may be more like how a seed turns into a tree. It’s just dumb luck. It just waits encased in its shell until all the conditions are perfect and then bursts forth into the world.

But most don’t get this far.

Maybe I’ve just tried too hard to make everything happen. Can I be more like that seed? Just quietly sitting on the forest floor gathering the magic conditions to crack me open. Will I be one of the lucky ones?

And once I am that wonderful entity, crawling with life and fluttering with each breath of wind, my roots firmly reaching in all directions: then I will know I am who I am supposed to be.