Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Computer purge = great discoveries

I found these poems on my computer when I was tiding up my documents. I can't remember if I wrote them or if I found them somewhere. This is a humbling confession, but I really love them and I would like to embrace the person who wrote them and, if it is myself, I would be glad. Nevertheless, enjoy:

Boobs and Botox

A monogrammed note card is all I get

For years of enduring your lies

The politics of friendship to which I was so naïve

Can’t a good honest person be president someday

Oblivious to the truth I live

Caught in some parallel universe of pedicures and implants

I value goodness not a good package

Maybe I really am jealous of the life you tell everyone you live

I am really a self-righteous hypocrite

Maybe my most valuable possession is the ablility to be good

And I threw away my niceness with scorn for your bluff.

Reality Show

Subway number 9

You left

And I saw you go but you can not not taste my loneliness

And grief for what I did and did not do

Risen lord only knows when you will come back again

And maybe he will bring you along when he comes again and both of you could judge me at the same time

talking it over like reality contest judges

(Isn’t reality a contest?)

Air my shortcomings for all the world, or at least an audience who could text message, to decide my Final Judgement

Who will remain as your lover

And who will appear next season

I stand, feeling the sucking away sensation as number 9 departs the station

And you with it, indifferent, grasping a loop to stay steady

I will one day stand on another platform

Subjecting myself to Definition by the apathetic, unschooled opinions of another subterranean lot.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

The Waste Land




"April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers...."

- The Waste Land, T.S. Eliot
I've always loved this and studying it takes a life time. Even if you don't know of all he alludes to in the poem, it is a long stirring of "memory and desire" - so much like spring time when things forgotten shoot up through the fertile ground. 

Spring is so tricky. It is my spring break and the weather is beautiful except that the temp was in the 30's this morning and it will only be about 60 today. That is not warm for me. Nevertheless I will be out and about buying Easter lilies for the church today with Mary's unwilling help. She is sleeping late, so maybe she will wake up with renewed vigor after our long and arduous shopping trip. I wish we could have accomplished our goal of finding a mother-of-the-groom dress for my mom yesterday. Maybe some of the possibilities will pan out.
Off I go....

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Allergies and Humidity



The picture of me shows how my head feels when pine pollen and humidity fills the air.














I am involved in reading New Moon right now. I have been bitten. I did not really want to like it but I do. I don't know what it is about the stories. For older readers, like myself, I guess it evokes memories of first, true, supernatural love. It is also a great, suspenseful read and the text is large enough that I do not have to use my reading glasses!!!

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Regrets for not writing

I can't imagine living in the snow. First of all I would fall down a lot. It's stuck to everything and you have to shovel it. Your car slips around in it. It just doesn't seem like much fun. It is pretty but you need sunglasses to look at it. 
I had good intentions of writing about our trip to Chicago. It was a wonderful trip because Jamie and I got to go away without the children. I also got chosen to be patted down at the airport. It was thrilling. I had to take my belt off and I thought my pants were going to fall off and they would get to do a really thorough search. They stayed on; my hips saved me again. I was cleared and I got to fly out of Mobile. I didn't forget and leave a pair of scissors in my purse like when I got to see the President. They took my scissors so I couldn't hurt the President or cut anything while I was waiting for an hour to see him. This is why paper dolls don't sell well anymore. Scissors have become a security threat. I didn't get to sit with Jamie on the flight to Atlanta but I did get to sit with a large Greek man who smelled of spices and garlic. He was charming when we started talking. I did not understand some of the things he said (his accent was sweet) but I understood that he loved Mobile and was heading home to Manhattan. He was the one who told me about the plane that had just crashed into the Hudson. This is how my life works. I get to fly once in a blue moon and it happens on the day of a highly publicized plane crash. It did not bother me. What were the odds that one of my planes would also crash? The birds had done enough for that day. So, anyway, Jamie and I survived the flights and enjoyed each other and kept each other warm in the sub zero weather. Tune in next week and find out why I have flowers in a plastic bag.