my pink dog

dear God
I seem to have lost my faith
the pixie-haired girl stuck
to a weathered pink dog with stale bubblegum
has stumbled too low
to be found in my dreams
her memories as diaphanous as Christmas spirit
present only if you’re willing to believe
Lord, somewhere while seeking gold
my pick-axe and pan rusted
jewels of this earth
fake gems plastered in false promises
my pink pup disintegrated long ago
nothing to grab onto now
no faith to embrace
no shield to burnish
stamped with the devil’s pitchfork
locked inside life’s eternal circle
the sign of peace
we alight here in this place
our time measured in a fish eye blink
lays out no global welcome mat
too many starving toes crowding “welcome”
and the rubber rainbow has discolored
beneath this vast azure roof
no one shares a meal together
I’m gonna tell you something, Lord
despite this miraculous ability to hate
that we’ve been granted
my greatest fear
is the moment
I believe these words
I’ve just written
the pink dog is still tucked away safely inside my heart

My Charlie

My Charlie

 

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goddamn peaceful

5 am
wishing ’twas contented spirits
who dusted winter’s cement grasses
with sparkling pixie dust
my little dog’s lone paw prints
sweet as a postcard one might send a faraway lover
I linger in this miraculous quiet
let the moment warm
the silence of this morning
as beautiful as swimming beneath water
where sounds of despair are drowned
swept away by bubbling filters and light-dancing reflections
fondling liquid ballerina toes
there I often dream
there, I can only dream
in the silent spaces away from mouths not my own
‘the’ planet, when we’re cruel
mother earth, when we’re kind
I don’t want to touch the frozen front door knob
twist it and go back inside
rather
I’d love to freeze out here
5 am
with the sparkling pixie dust
and all that glitters
in the beauty of this miraculous silence
when the world seems so goddamn peaceful
rest
“ye merry, gentlemen
let nothing you dismay”

Rudolph Hug

Rudolph Hug

lotm-screen-shot-amazonhey, what do ya know, monster clawed its merry little way to #9 position this past week on Amazon’s little list of, hot new love poetry releases

illuminated with dark thoughts

this morning like so many other mornings
waiting for the sun to rise up and grant us
another opportunity to make it right
anything or anyone we may have wronged
or perhaps
more in the drama of later moonlight
the subtle possibility
we might make something of ourselves
while we are gifted here to earth
gravity holding us
balancing our bodies
we can’t do it alone
we are
each like a small sparkle
brighter than starlight
if you believe in such frivolous gaiety

I for one do not
you see
I am illuminated with dark thoughts
I am a lying pessimist
yearning for the truth of optimism
in a world peppered with road rage salt
silly in fact am I
that I would compose such a lifeless line
seasoned with black and white culinary fare
thinking how clever
how wise
three of them
one of me
guided by northern light
yea I can keep going with this crap
like I said
I am illuminated with dark thoughts
brightened only by the singular prospect
of you
in you

I am a most excellent liar
for I am not a lying pessimist
in truth
I am an eternal optimist
I am a gut-wrenching lame ass
I do believe in humanity
I do believe that behind words
cast like fishermen nets
people dwell
behind all the world’s false twinkling
the light of some truth bleeds out
through infinitesimal skin scrapes
the largest wounds

why do I believe myself an optimist
my one technological treasure
in the 1980’s when VCRs were introduced
many adults fancied themselves harbingers of theatrical doom
“there go the movie houses”
“there die our cinematic experiences”
a lame ass heart quietly rallied
the same lame ass heart always praying for white Christmases
to this day
“my local theatre won’t go out of business people need people”
“people need people”
“we want to enjoy experiences together”
“hear laughter”
“communally sob – not sad alone”
“clap”
“eat popcorn and slurp giants”
“we want to suck face in the back row”
“hold hands in the middle”
“wait for his arm to wrap my shoulder”

I am a most excellent liar
fooling my own heart into believing
if I can do this
it will bleed out
others will sense my fake joy
they might smile
it will start
this morning like so many other mornings
waiting for the sun to rise up and grant us
another opportunity to make it right
there is a sneaking warmth
creeping like crackling fire
and Christmas snow

Harem Eyes

Harem Eyes

 

It’s okay to give AnnMarie 2 birthday presents

Zoo Balloons

True Story

My parents got to the hospital just in time for me to enter the world. I was born several minutes past midnight, deep inside the womb of Saint Mary’s. When my dad went to pay the bill, he was informed by a dulcet-faced nun, he owed not for one but two full days. He inquired about the additional charges.

The congenial nun responded, “According to our paperwork, your daughter was born on May 19th, not May 20th. Our records do not reflect daylight savings time.”

Vito didn’t like being taken advantage of even by elevated folks of the cloth. He argued with the administrative woman of God. But with wife and newborn held as good faith collateral, my father relented and paid the extra twenty dollars.

I retell this story every May 19th to remind anyone who might care – “It’s okay to give AnnMarie, 2 birthday presents.”

God bless:)

party on, Nina

those eyes still haunt me
huge echoing eyes
and that small painful smile
you had so many other smiles
why is it the small one I remember
and the effort you took to make it
just for me
if I focus, I can see the bright smiles
your black shining eyes, icing on the cake
back when you were healthy
before life decided what it wanted to do with you
as it will all of us
God, I miss you still
Glenn Miller helps
singing and swinging up there on a cloud of pasta
and chicken soup with tiny meatballs
party on, Nina
party on

My Charlie

My Charlie

Charlie was a great pink stuffed dog that Nina gave me many Christmases ago…

not what I expected

so far behind where I normally am for this time of year
as I suffer from HOHO OCD
don’t like doing the crazed shopping thing
with the reindeer-like snorting
and elfin foot twitching on some store’s yule tile

many changes ’round my gingerbread house this year
nothing horrid
just many needles simultaneously falling off the evergreen
this mad dropping conifer has been obstructing my path to
holiday hype preparedness

it happened today
while I was feeling very sorry for myself
and all that I had to accomplish
to create another Merry Memory

on the sick side of the pediatrician’s office
two little girls sharing the common bond
of a Christmas Cough and Holiday Hack
I sat there with the delicate daughter
(mind you, not so delicate when it comes to a throat culture, without a helmet she could take out Odell)
one of these precious little girls began singing,
Silver and Gold
then the other darling chimed in

my self-involved brain began singing along with them
an octave lower for the chorus
when they changed up the lyrics
they didn’t sing, “…silver and gold, silver and gold…”
they sang, “…silver and gold and blue and green and red…”
and they kept going
giggling while adding colors

before I knew it
I was giggling along with them
and the cranky old lady that had been sitting on my heart all day
reunited with her Christmas spirit
not what I expected
not at all

For those of you who celebrate, I extend a Merry Christmas
For all, I wish you a warm and exciting New Year full of hope and possibility

Peace, Love and Light,
am:)

A Gift

A Gift

 

still grand

my pianochipped black and white keys
my hundred year old friend
gone
to another home
another love
the holiday music sheets are quiet
Christmas melodies ring out
through radio wires
and satellite dishes
not from beneath my fingers at this festive time
I do hope one day
to welcome another instrument
something much smaller
to dwell in the studio
alongside the paint brushes and pencils
it won’t be the same though
how could it
but I’ve had a wish fulfilled
luckier than many

during this holiday season
there is a struggling musician
with jubilant fingers playing
like silk bows across promising gifts
her young smile now as bright as
a Christmas star

and this to me
is beautiful music

Bell-la

Bell-la

let cling to our skin

they cling to the legs
Ignorance and Want
beneath rich velvet robes
two malnourished beings
present in Their suffering
we remain focused on our priorities
during this season of hope and love
wrap tenderly our hearts
with Their existence
let us go forth
in humble spirit
and grand charity

fiercefor Rocky
Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol
The Ghost of Christmas Present

I Will Part with My Love

What is it they say–
if you love something
set it free…

In the past,
we’ve made rhythmic music together
I’ve joyously
caressed him and
he’s returned in kind

“Hearing the seasonal bells”
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s
timeless words
set to melody
has inextricably bonded our souls

We’ve been an unconditional duo,
though of late
my thoughts have been elsewhere
My aloof fingers
stroking electronic keys

In my tangled heart
I know
our music will linger on–
as a childhood dream
once realized

I do love him so
but
the day I release him
I know
he will never return

Bell-la

art published last December – it’s never too early for the holidays

There is no longer space for my baby grand piano – rather than have him go down to the basement, he will be sold…I do hope to get an upright someday – gotta have a piano or I get cranky 😉