the right moment for a lefty

can you glide atop marble
with big feet tripping you
can you dance across scuffed inlay
while soaking in the swing band
if you know me at all
you’ll know why music and maroon socks are perfect
will you sneer if an errant hair strand sticks to my shiny mouth
my lips are glossed ’cause I’m trying to look pretty
as you swing me left
I can’t swing right – that’s the side I always drop things on
will you know I never lived above an Italian deli but wanted to
or worked as a librarian
or sketched on a zeppelin
or like my bedsheets striped otherwise I put them on the wrong way
will you know I dream all the time
something I was supposed to be held back a grade for
will you know how I escaped
and that I don’t ever want to be caught
I just want to dance to swing band music
with someone who doesn’t mind laughing with me
dancerquickie sketch today

s’words’

your words
smolder into sabers
that pierce my naive imagination
while I tend inked sheep
you dance with spirited stallions
upon thoughts ignited by hoof spark

I will drink your sharp wine
let it dizzy my head and spin my body
then I’ll wander back
inebriated through the forest
back to the safety of my paper cottage
before your perfect flames burn down my underdone dwelling

Marilyn hands/oil

Marilyn hands/oil

MM in oil, painted, oh gosh, in 1982 during my Marilyn phase. MM to many ‘perfect’ to behold, to others ‘sadness’ by peroxide…

against a thick crimson sky

lone soldier

this day is not ours to decide
it is done
some had no choice
sacrifices made
youthful years in hell
bodies and minds disabled
parentless children
forever missing
white markers
against a thick crimson sky
we commemorate those
living daily nightmares
eternal memories stowed
in footlockers
those of us 
untouched by blood
this day stand beside
those who act(ed) honorably
who often return(ed) alone
these dutiful hearts
must never
sense anything
but respect
compassion
evermore…
pop Germanymy father-in-law while stationed in Germany
below, enjoying his US return
with his beautiful girl who was to become my mother-in-law
below that photo, one from 1919 LeMans, France
my father-in-law’s father #95
war returnLeMans, France 1919

monster and madame

mooseman fullthe moon was grey and soft
when I gave myself to you
we traversed the indigo sea
winged as silent bats
echolocating the stars
your magnificence enveloped me
a bond
alluring in its exoticism
monster and madame
we breathed only night’s hither
nurturing human faith
and earth’s breadth of truth
undivided souls
morphed into one great passion
a lupine love
for the ages


Video: Mario Lanza breaks into Ann Blyth’s rendition of “Be My Love,”about halfway through, if you can manage through first leg :)
Mooseman created in 2007 if memory serves. I believe the moon was full that night he came to life…:)

sailing on terra firma

sadness
suspended by the cool sea
blue on blue

restorative
warm earth anchors
soil sanded tones

floating
directionless
ebb and flow

hope

believe
you can sail
on terra firma
caroline in ocean

Seabiscuit Shell

Seabiscuit Shell

delicate daughter as a wayward mermaid – one of my favorite photos
seabiscuit shell created a few months ago after staring at my Breyer’s horse collection that shares my studio (yes, I keep plastic horses – in my defense – they are very pretty)
Maybe a Triple Crown…

my beautiful

we see the world differently
sometimes we don’t speak the same language
I’m a flesh and blood train wreck
often shamed by your benevolence
I wonder why you continue loving me
is there something you know that I don’t
while I dissect, ponder and worry
you patiently watch with a warmth
that tamps my pounding heart back into a steady beat
you sidle me when I’m lonely
refusing to allow my tears to burden the floor
your honest eyes convince me
again and again
why I love you
my beautiful dog
yes, I know it’s time for your dinner
chama

Our beloved Chama 1997 – 2009
Let’s hope more shelter animals find homes…
This post is dedicated to C-Dog – a site that champions human benevolence for all animals. Also, a shout out to newcomer, Lillian the Home Poet who reminded me this very morning about the generosity of our beloved pets.
C-Dog is currently on hiatus (hopefully not too long:) )

word dining

skin-slick words
one sliding into the next
sinfully playing out thoughts
cinematic suggestions coupling
atop monochromatic unions
each time
honestly every time
my eyes are guilty
while my mind races
and my palms sweat

perhaps the solution is
rending those sultry words apart
pouncing above the serifs
visualizing beneath the descenders
disrobing the creator
but what would be the point
it is not the invisible writer
but my golden age response to
these enticing content seductions
perhaps too much fantasizing
or
contemplation of sensual mystery
whatever rational is applied
I should not keep biting

but I fear the world
a bit more dull
if not dining on sensual words
and I’m a bit selfish
that way…

Dress of Life

quickie sketch previously posted, but I think she appears slightly aloof –
perfect for when one reads erotica that turns their face red, even when no one else is in the room…

I sure hope my parents aren’t reading this stuff ;)