2022 dances in as a benevolent ballerina in a shining tutu (2 2)
Her flowing muslin calms our hearts, her beautiful resilience eases our minds
With universal joy, our eyes gaze upon her, bitterness and worries of the past forgotten
What a lovely thought to embrace…
Through all that remains ahead for us (and it is quite heavy), may we resolve to pull through together
I wish you all peace, love, kindness, and good health in 2022 – Year of the Benevolent Ballerina
Well, my friends – I stopped advertising my illustrated poetry collection a year after it came out. Like so many of us, I’m not great at self-promotion. Since we’re stuck between walls right now, I’ve adopted a devil-may-care attitude. At least for the moment😊
Just click on the pic or here and it flies you to Amazon for the ebook version and whatever remains of the printed version. (My book also rests on this blog’s first page) The bulk of printed books are sitting in boxes in my closet. My mother and I were planning to joyously peddle them at fall festivals. I haven’t had the heart to go at without her, though my lovely daughter has volunteered.
Once we all get through this insane period in time, and we will, I’ll peddle away come Autumn. ❤️
Stay safe🙏
Thanks and prayers to all those leaving the safety of their walls to help others. Thanks to those going to jobs that keep our world moving… Thank you and stay safe.
a warm, wonderful 2020 to all!❤️
While my darling daughter was checking out my ‘Published Writing and Art’ page, she informed me that many of the links no longer connected to the published pieces. In an effort to correct this, I went through the entire list and connected each piece to its corresponding blog page, as well as re-linking to the journal or site where each was published. This is the one that got away. It was published back in 2017, by ‘Miracles Magazine’ (A generous friend who still works for the magazine had asked me to submit work). I’m re-posting my poem, ‘Bessie’s Echo,’ so the link can be updated. Thank you.
Bessie’s Echo
in the distance
faceless proclamations bounce back and forth between the rush of cars
years ago
would’ve been herds of cattle trotting for lunch bells ‘cross the road
perched on
a yellow Adirondack chair on my front porch, I drink flavored seltzer from a tumbler pretending it’s Dom
spotted bovine hooves
only echos now like dairy farmers spirits loading Bessie’s milk on old Erie railroad cars
bound for the city
retired clanks and clatters float toward the bright sun that once fed fat cows golden grass
little birds
with bright yellow bellies flit by my front porch saying their good nights
or goodbyes
cows
cropped portion of a sketch drawn about ten years ago, someday I must redo this little sketch, the dang eyes are lopsided!
So very honored to have “Blue Humor” published in The Stillwater Review
“The journal maintains a dedication to the lyric poem—musicality at the heart of it, the delicate ideas at work in the layers. Since that time our journal has published poets like Michael Waters, Judith Vollmer, Paul Genega, Adele Kenny, Robert Mitchell, J.C. Todd, Chuck Tripi, Mihaela Moscaliuc, Diane Lockward, Robert Carnevale, Jessica deKoninck, Edwin Romond, Lois Marie Harrod, and Roberto Carlos Garcia.”
Honored to have my poem “Stronger” published in Literary Mama-a beautiful testament to the spirit of motherhood…
“Literary Mama first started to take shape in 2002 as a class called Writing About Motherhood taught in Berkeley, California by Amy Hudock. A group of mothers continued meeting at the conclusion of the class, and within months, had connected with other mother writers who, like them, were producing work that was deemed too complex for glossy parenting magazines and too mother-centric for traditional literary journals.”
Stronger
a worn woman stands in my mirror
half-cocked smile working its way to the corners
my mother deserves a joyful daughter
my mother, the one in the mechanical bed
I remember a version of me
standing tall with my broad frame and big hands
(gifts from my dad)
ready to take on life’s traveling circus
I fancied myself a carnival strong-woman
all muscles and charisma
what of this beaten figure confiscating my reflection
proud shoulders curving toward the dirt
hands large like her father’s, now achy and brittle
I long for a return to those 360-mirror days
sauntering like a big cat
pumping fierce iron
positive in mind and powerful in body
yet here I am with the memory
unable to ignite the revival
my beloved weights, big stacks once impressive to many
abandoned on a cold gym floor somewhere
still I lift every day
my mother’s broken body like a heaving sack of flour
from bed to wheelchair to commode
up and down up and down
up ramps down ramps side ramps
in around and back again
with each passing day
I grow stronger
thanks to my dear friend and fellow writer DS Levy for the tee-shirt gift, and thanks to the handsome model, my dear little teenage son
a link for you if so inclined to throw coins into a writer’s cup
Happy Halloween!
The lady you see in the background was a sculpture I created way, way back, my junior year of high school. I was ever the wilful child turned into obstinate teen and did not take direction well. My art teacher warned me of clay thicknesses. I didn’t listen. The sculpt, 3 feet in length, did not live long. All that remains of her – a few photos that I treasure as a reminder- there is always more to learn from others – listen well and learn – always learn
anntogether 