“Winter Wonderland” by Terry Redlin
This image sits on the shelf of my bedroom closet where I see it every morning and remember…
Other than this greeting card, I was unaware of Mr Redlin’s expansive body of work or that- “During the 1990s he was frequently named “America’s most popular artist” in annual gallery surveys conducted by U.S. Art magazine.”
Today while writing this homage, I was moved to write Mr. Redlin to thank him. I learned he passed away in 2016.
Forever remembered, my father Vito, 7/12/31-11/19/2017
Bell-la
may peace find you this season
merry and bright hearts love one another
compassion in gentle wrapping for all
Holidragon
There are very few pieces of my art that stick into my soul, this joyous beast holds my heart in a warm place.
I wish many joyous moments–for each and every one of you–in this wondrous season of magnified love. 😘
there in our hands, the power of words
yet so often, we rally them into service
too late
too busy
considering pluses and minuses
try as we do
to separate
fact from fiction
moral fiber from bull crap
opportunities vanish
to speak
my heart
to yours
calendar clocks tick away
missed opportunities
wrong gift sizes
this year’s chapter closes
now all we can do
is wish upon a Christmas star
pray
for those of us with faith
hoping it eventually comes
to light
what it was
we never got
to say
perhaps, one day
when the magical star returns
with it will pulse
another guiding opportunity
to shine
this new chapter will be better
imagine our one world
spinning with a modicum of peace
where
we two
can love again
Deer Friends
a mouth doused with sweet romance
is deliciously contagious
eyes bedazzled by the goodwill of others
illuminate the world
a steadfast hand that comforts the weak
can reach the Himalayan snow caps
lovers who entwine in a sincere embrace
are more satisfied than Cyber Monday shoppers
a soul refreshed by winter moonlight
will shine for eternity
a heart made of fruitcake
can never be broken
Peppermint Pigs
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
hey, 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
perhaps if we all spoke in simple language
rather than tongues
if we gazed with eyes
rather than expectations
what if we sang together with voices clear
frenzied rants quietly melting
if we opened ourselves to listening
blocking programmed retorts
this season
imposes upon us
the choice of reflection
the challenge of change
in ourselves
we can create magic
genuine magic
a mystical presence of benevolence
spirited on by a collective desire
to wrap our world in peace
the simplest of gifts
difficult to embrace
yet within our grasp
all we need do
is listen to earth’s language
life
Baby Elf
crouching behind windshields
squatting behind screens
societal svengalis lurk
unruly wild things pacing clear enclosures
bitter birds choosing not to fly
limitations evaporate
when powered on by false gods
emotional anchors become
looming weights of entitlement
hands grip wheels
steering by fabricated courage
verbal appetites satiated by barbs
served beneath craving fingertips
manipulation expands
a cracked sea sponge tossed into a violent whirlpool
bytes of malice more sour than sun-baked wine
flow over rims of digital goblets
what happens to some
what happens to us
communicating without the skin of our souls
the flesh of our humility
the forbearance of our hearts
what will become of us
when traveling forward
without the divinity of pure movement
and humble earth beneath our feet
as this holiday season fast approaches
may we remember
humanity dwells inside
each and every one of us
let monsters be made of fantasy only
Holidragon
inspired this weekend while returning my daughter to college-many crazed people driving the highways-
many crazed drivers on cell phones rushing to cybershop
T