Friday, December 31, 2010

party time

To party, or not to party...

Tonight, after a simple, cozy dinner
at home, with David
we will both curl up
with books...

Me, I'm an old fashioned girl,
I still like to the turn pages,
feeling the weight of the book,
touching it, possessing it til the end

David is a bit more modern;
he's hooked on the kindle
that our daughter bought him
for his birthday last year...

I think it's the immediate gratification
of clicking to the next book
as soon as he finishes reading something...
David is panic stricken
at the thought of nothing to read...

But as my friend Edwina often says,
"I digress..."

I don't really enjoy going to parties...
I like giving parties...
especially for someone else...
I've even co-chaired three charity balls,
each one for more than eight hundred people...

The details of planning something wonderful
because you love someone,
creating a memory, a moment of time
that you have spun into a dream
then gave to someone...
that to me is a party...

I like dressing up for parties...
little girls and playing dress up...
Do we ever really out grow it?

I was trying to remember
just when I stopped liking parties...
and I actually think I was about four and a half...

I was invited to a birthday party
in the apartment complex where we lived...
The little girl's name was Tristi
and she had a younger brother named Mikey.

I remember being very excited...
Everyone in our apartment complex
who played together was going to be there...

I had a new power blue party dress
with a swirly skirt and a satin sash to wear...
I even had a pair of shiny new black patent maryjanes...

This was a really big deal for me
because I usually wore thick corrective shoes
that one time even got stuck in the fence
when I tried to climb over it
with everyone else...

I don't recall most of Tristi's party...
I only remember how it ended...

Tristi lived in an upstairs apartment.
As I was saying good by at the door
I turned to leave
and Mikey came out...

I can't tell you what he said
but he shoved me HARD!

The soft powder blue party dress
floated above my head like waves
as I tumbled down the cold cement stairs,
my shiny black patent leather maryjanes
far above me, the toes looked likes birds
ready to swoop down
and grab a fish out of the ripples of blue
as they quickly moved away...

They took me to the emergency hospital
for stitches to my cracked open head...

Although I was very sleepy the next day
Tristi and Mikey came over to see how I was
and to bring me a present...

Mikey also had to apologize...
and say he was so sorry
that he was even giving up his own birthday party...

Before they left, he managed to sneer at me,
whispering under his breath,
"I'm glad I'm not having a party this year,
cause you would just ruin it anyway!"

I remember crying when they left
but everyone just thought it was
because my head hurt...

Happy, happiest New Year ever...

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

some days

some days
it's as though all the sadness
in my heart decides to run away
and uses my nervous system
as a road...

today is one of those
some days

there seems to be a traffic jam
going on inside of me
everything is so heavy
weighted down
doesn't want to move...

I'm no sad slug
no mud wallowing snail
if my limbs need dragging
I'll drag them...

I silently applaud
as I lift my arms
ever so slightly
and tap the keyboard

I can do this
what else can I do today?

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

just because

I've been busy making my holiday truffles
and my head is filled with more chocolate
than words...

If you can,
try to do some random
act of kindness for someone
just because you can...

I hope all of your holiday dreams
are coming true...

Somewhere among all that chocolate
words are swirling, bubbling and brewing...

Happy Holidays to All
and to All,
Sweet Dreams Every Night!

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

kissing boo boo-s

Today my twins, Ariana and Brandon, are 35 years old.
On the movie reel of them,
the one that continually plays
inside my head,
I can see them experiencing
so many childhood moments...

I can still feel the weight of them
when they were first put into my arms...
hear the softness of their breathing
against my cheek as I held them
so close...so close...
vowing to protect them,
cherish them, teach them...
try my best to make their dreams
come true...

One of my dreams was to be a mother.
I'm the oldest of four,
I was always baby sitting,
I taught preschool and Saturday school...
I even wanted to be a Gramma
when I was old enough.

But kids do grow up
and they should...
Each stage of life offers opportunities,
perspective, understanding, deeper loving
and unfortunately, sorrows...

As I write this tonight,
I can still smell the baby powder
as it blended with my Shalimar...

Ariana has systemic lupus...
I'm there for her 
but it's her fight
and she's a Warrior Goddess...

Brandon has his own demons
to conquer and sadly, for now,
he's not letting me be there...

I wish it was as simple
as it was when they were little
and everything was alright
after Mommy kissed their boo boo...

Saturday, December 11, 2010

moonstruck

Every night I am newly bewitched,
transported and tempted by the moon...

I have written image after image,
poem, after poem...
trying each time
and every place where I am looking,
to if not perfectly,
then spectacularly,
capture what I am seeing...

The delicate mother of pearl bird
that is the new moon...

The spicy, sassy lemon slice
half moon...

The wanton, whirling, spinning egg moon
before the circle is complete...

What can you say about the grandness
of a full moon...
the ribbons of shimmering diaphanous light
that dance across the velvet sky...

When I was three,
I named my favourite doll,
Diana, after the Moon Goddess...

I believe that all babies
and small children
should be read, Goodnight, Moon...

When Ethan and I are apart
in our dreams
we rendezvous on the moon...

Yes, I am certifiably moonstruck...
but as I write this,
the movie, Moonstruck, comes to mind...

There is that wonderful scene
when a love sick, sort of dopey,
Nicholas Cage tells Cher that he loves her...
and Cher hauls off and slaps him silly...

"SNAP  OUT OF IT,"admonishes Cher...

As this year begins to fade
into the shadows of time,
I was sort of fantasizing
about all the people
that I would like to haul off and slap
just like Cher did in the movie...

Some of these people I know,
some are celebrities or famous,
some are people you just hear about
or read about,
people who are busy minding other people's business...

Well, Cher's slap in Moonstruck
turned out to be a wake up call
even for her...

And there's nothing so bad about that...
or a good old fashion
Snap out of it either...

Monday, December 6, 2010

notes to myself

Since falling a few weeks ago
I'm finding it more difficult
than it usually is
to put myself
back together again...

This was the first time
I fell on my back
and I banged my head
in the bargain...

As I patiently rest and wait
I've been making an unusual amount of notes
to myself...

It seems like when you're not doing very much
there are an improbable number of things
that you need to remember to do...

There's the magnetic list on the frig:
things to be bought at the market,
the pharmacy, Target, the bookstore...

The little cube of paper squares by the phone,
the one that's so pretty when you choose it,
that day by day whittles down
until you don't remember the design on the sides...
that's where I write down all the calls...
the calls to be returned,
the calls that need to be made,
the appointments that need to be scheduled
and rescheduled...

I also have coloured index cards...
I write things that are important to me on them
and pin them on the bulletin board above the computer...

I have a green one pinned there now
with a Chinese Proverb on it:
Your life begins
when you plant a garden...

My own garden has had a few sad seasons...
The weather has been erratic
I've been distracted physically,
emotionally... and so I've been neglectful...
Though I've been disappointed
by the loss of plants I nurtured;
I've also been happily surprised
by the strength of others
as well as the delightful appearance
of those plucky little volunteers...

A quick aside to those who do not garden...
Volunteers are seeds that sprout like
will of the wisps, here, there and everywhere
in your garden...carried by the wind, birds, insects
they are uncanny, magical and reaffirming...

There is a purple index card pinned above the computer too.
On this card I wrote:
A person who sees radiance where others see objects...poet.

Beside my bed I have a tiny note pad
beautifully embossed with the image of a butterfly
that my daughter brought me from Sedona...

Maybe because of where I keep it
or possibly because of the evocative way it looks,
this is where I write all the little things...
dreamy things, whimsical, illusive, intangible, wishful things...
but I also write some big, loopy, crazy things here,
things that pinch me on the inside until I get them out...

This is where I scribble in purple ink,
I want to live my life as i dreamed it...

My heart is fragments, stained with tears...

I want to scream until someone really hears me...

why is it so difficult to make a difference?

There are even sticky notes on the desktop of my computer.
I haven't started leaving myself notes there...
although just the other day I found one...

I love you, Gramma, Ethan