Monthly Archives: October 2015

Riding the Cyclone

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cyclone milliethey say you can never go back
she did, at 79
the magic of optimism
in her breast
returning to Coney Island
for the ride of her life
a young man locked her in
brave nana, kneecaps knocking
beneath that padded bar
she didn’t look back
only forward
at the dropping parallel lines
stomach lifting steel
smiling, laughing, screaming
on this Halloween
she leaps another year to the right
considering each 365, a dazzling gift
nothing about her has changed much
her remarkable passion
her boundless spirit
why, in 80 years
the only thing that has changed
is the ticket price
her first ride cost twenty-five cents
last month, the Cyclone was twelve dollars

shy party doghappy birthday, mom
xoxo
millie at 79

he whispers amen

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thank you he whispers
like an amen
the broad smile on his face
I’ve seen somewhere before
his bright marbled eyes map
world destinations traveled decades ago
both light and dark
those hands, trembling and warm
once gripped killing machines
with cool unshakable confidence
back then
they wore their brand of patriotism
like a second skin
back then
there was no doubting
now there is
and today he whispers
thank you and tips his baseball cap
to my young son
who has just held the door
for the elderly gentleman
wearing the navy blue cap with the meticulous insignia
that reads WWII, US P-51 Mustang

lone

lone

previously published, I have no fighter plane art

falling

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spectacular glow against the robust purple grey sky
leaves spiraling in wind directing thin branches to bow
unreal color drenching the landscape
but what am I seeing
not glorious
scratched pencil lines and spinning circles
into ovals with broad maws and wild fur
sharp orbs and blocky nostrils
I’m hearing too many voices
the wind is a sailing eraser
the wall
Art Wall 1Art Wall 2Art Wall 3Art Wall 5Art Wall 6Art Wall 7Art Wall 8Art Wall 4RHinopaper falling like leaves
when
almost home I look up through a tree
these
these are the falling papers
this is the wind
this is what I need to remember
this is why
I have eyes
autumnsketches done for students to demo different animals…
picture taken when I returned home from subbing
while standing in my driveway looking up

blur

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dancing in a deluge
freezing wet arrows pierce your body
everything blurs
could go exploring in the rain
determined to the ends of the earth
driven to the bottom of the oceans
like a wide-eyed child
searching
always searching
for a meaningful destiny
you don’t accept plain living
a grand enough purpose
even after the cold water
has cleared your vision
and washed the mud off your face
boy with green glowing eyes
wide-eyed previously published

she followed me home

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the version tonight
I do not like her
the woman who came home
that one
she followed me
had the nerve to walk in my shoes
into the house
in soles not made for stomping
yelling in a voice that should be singing
she’d said
the other version, the one I like
warned me awhile ago
things might get a little ugly
like a volcano
festering stuff below the tonsils
when that one gets angry
she’s not pleasant
not even to the cute little dog
no one is safe
the only thing two extra legs buys you
when she’s in that mood
is a fast walk into a little crate
I hope when she finishes firing off all her rockets
she flattens into an autumn shadow
I want the person who entertains me
yea, the one who mostly laughs
even when it gives her smile lines

Pumpkin Sweet

Pumpkin Sweet

HoNest

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nested internal thoughts
resistant to the bearer’s weight
honesty to ourselves each time
form healthy embryos
protected by truth

lies crack under pressure
less than honorable thoughts
eventually break our souls
eagleeagle done a few months ago, Tombow water color marker, Prisma pencil and a touch of white acrylic

We nearly lost the bald eagle in the 1960’s. DDT weakened shells to the point of cutting down this raptor population from 500,000 strong to a scant 1,000. Through conservation programs and legal protection the bald eagle has made a miraculous return to the US landscape. DDT was banned in 1972.
Fun Fact: The bald eagle is the only eagle unique to North America

at the beyond

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Nothing is the same
All the lights are on
yet the dark is oppressive
I imagine you’re out there
Dreaming lets me smile
I think you’re in the next room
Pretending is a talent of mine
I miss you completely
Maybe one day
we’ll be together again
at the beyond
when I grow tired of pretending
and short
of breath

Rocky

Rocky

missing you greatly, my dear friend and companion

Nina’s shoulder pads

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she adored shoulder pads
tucked beneath her brassiere straps
the eighties rage
her build was delicate
not like her niece
who resembled a linebacker
if she didn’t slice the shoulder pads out of her fashion finds
Nina appreciated how the foam pieces squared-off her petite form
on her body, clothing draped as it was meant to
she had style and a talent for accessorizing
my aunt lived with grace, style and beauty
she remained dignified and lovely
even near the end
her eyes
gorgeous, dark and wide
unlike stacked boxes of jewels
and endless drawers of shoulder pads
irreplaceable gems
I miss their soft, elegant glow
still

Red Wolf

Red Wolf

When I was little, Nina had a little fox stole that sat on the top a cushy chair in her bedroom.
Happy Birthday, Nina. Today, she would have turned 83.

it’s never perfect

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out of body
experienced
feet in the clouds
head below the rest
not moving forward
but losing no ground
heart and soul
right now
a keyboard duet
for an invisible piano
will be studious again
at rock bottom
where the colored paper plays
the pencils swirl
and the brushes sweep into dance
the melody heard
by intruments
not requiring perfect circumstances
they know life
is never perfect
even at its most musical
guitar man

The Magical Last Light

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I’d like to share something that I’ve selfishly kept to myself for many years. It’s free and it’s beautiful.

My favorite moment occurs when conditions are just right: the sky is a foreboding grey, the sinking sun is well onto closing down for the day, and a gentle wind lifts the tree leaves like fluttering butterflies.

The moment begins when the sun’s last rays illuminate just the tree tops. Then it happens–lasting only a few surreal minutes. Nothing else can describe this sight except magical–the magical last light.
trees ligthIt’s truly spectacular. The interior light in my studio softens even the dogs take notice.
dogs studioIt’s like leaving Kansas for Oz…
color treesI hope you enjoyed this moment as much as I. If you take the time to seek out this light, you too will be reminded that all things are possible–even peace on earth…

Reworked old post from 2014, I thought fitting for today 🙂